#until dean decides that all he wants is for sam to live a normal quiet life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bombingqueen · 1 year ago

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I might make a rec list of all my favorite wincest and j2 fics. I wouldn't mind receiving some recs if anyone is interested. I decided to just list my wincest recs because I read more sam/dean fics then J2. I have no idea how many parts I'm gonna have.

Updated:

Wincest Recs Part 1

Favorites (these are pretty much rated E):

the blood in your mouth (5306 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Dean wishes he could sink his hands right through Sam’s skin, his ribs, wishes he could touch straight down to Sam’s heart. He’d feel the strong muscle of it, the clench and release of every beat, the thick heat of blood. He could take a bite, all for himself. (In which Dean starts experiencing cannibalistic thoughts about Sam, and Sam just needs his brother. Season 11.)

take the things you love (4784 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: The thing is, Sam’s reinforcing every bad behavior Dean’s ever had with this kind of shit. Fucking Sam stupid over the hood of the Impala? Dean’s wet dream—unfortunately also Sam’s—but more importantly the implicit validation of every claim Dean thinks he has on Sam—unfortunately every claim Sam’s lizard brain wants Dean to have. (Sam knows his brother wants to possess him. It's a point of internal conflict.)

brother only wants (64098 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 11/11 Summary: Sam breathes like it takes effort, and then he says, "Wanting you was the very first thing I realized was wrong with me. It was how I knew there was something sick inside." (One of them had to fall first. A story about devotion.)

an act of faith against the night (5953 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: When Dean kisses him again, he tastes like Sam's tears. "I hate you," Sam whispers into Dean's mouth, still trying to get Dean to fuck him faster. No one should ever love this much. "It's your fault, this is your fault." Dean gave him this, everything that Sam never wants to lose, and now Dean's just going to tear it all away. He's going to throw himself away, like he's nothing, if Sam can't save him. (Angsty porn set sometime in Season 3. In lieu of actually talking things out, Sam and Dean have a lot of sex. Sometimes, like now, Sam breaks down.)

Bullet for my Valentine (8840 words) by merle_p Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Stupid. He is so goddamn fucking stupid. Running his mouth like a fucking idiot, not knowing when to leave well enough alone. Bad enough that he just practically talked dirty to his little brother, which, Christ – he must be more stressed than he thought if his self-control mechanisms have started malfunctioning that badly. But no, no, he came up with a scenario straight out of a bad slasher film, as if that is something normal people talk dirty about, as if that is something Sam would seriously enjoy. As if – As if Dean hadn’t hunted his own brother through the maze of the bunker, eyes black and hammer raised to strike, not even a full year ago. As if Sam hadn’t, just a few weeks back, knelt at his feet, neck bared, waiting for Dean to deal a fatal blow with a fucking scythe

Sam has a serial killer kink and Dean indulges him. There is no explicit consent discussion prior to the kink exploration. But there is a safeword that Sam is fully able to use.

With Your Dreams Untold (10157 words) by waywardelle Chapters: 1/1 Summary: For the past ten years, Dean has been bookmarking porn on the laptop for Sam to watch. Sam figured it would never go further than that, until one night, not long after killing Hitler, Dean decides to be brave. One thing is for sure: Dean is never going to let Sam live down the fact that porn is what brought them together, in the end. Set between 12x06 & 12x07, but not necessarily a coda.

Walkin' the Tightrope (24702 words) by non_tiembo_mala Chapters: 1/1 Summary: It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more. Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help. Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…

because you want to die for love (27299 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of Heaven verse Summary: He almost misses it. “Seventy-eight days.” A beat passes. “What?” That’s the face of twenty-four year old Sam staring at Dean with the eyes of the thirty-six year old Sam he left behind. Dean can’t get a read on him, on the expression there when Sam clarifies, “It was only seventy-eight days. I lived for seventy-eight days without you, and then I ended up here.” (Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.)

Just about everything by hathfrozen is awesome. The author really knows Sam and Dean and hathfrozen explores their unhinged dynamics well.

Strange How the Night Moves (2282 words) by dollylux Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam and Dean talk about Sam's night with Piper.

Kings of Christmas (4987 words) by brokenlittleboy Chapters: 1/1 Summary: During the holidays at the bunker, Sam and Dean engage in a tense competition over who can decorate the bunker the best. Things get out of hand, but in a good way.

The Exodus (14189 words) by waywardelle Chapters: 1/1 Summary: So. Dean left with Cas over a week ago on some sort of recon mission, and yeah, Sam has been trying to bury himself in research, but he's just not coping all that well with the long-term separation. He wakes up early one morning, expecting the day to be like all the rest, except it's even worse than all the rest, because he's completely and totally alone on his (brother-less) thirty-fourth birthday. His bleak outlook quickly changes with an unexpected phone call, and he has to admit that maybe someone, somewhere answered his embarrassingly needy birthday wish, despite his lack of candles to blow out.

Promise Me (9281 words) by brokenlittleboy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel Additional Tags: Soulmates, Fluff, Romance, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Men of Letters Bunker, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Winchesters, Canon Compliant, Top Dean, Bottom Sam, Frottage, Anal Sex, Sleepy Kisses, Minor Character(s) Series: Part 4 of Commissions Summary: Dean makes a promise to Sam. He'd already made a commitment to his brother in a church, but this time is more significant and meaningful. Their lives are already weird enough that one incestuous marriage proposal won't flip things upside down.

Sweet Sin, So Naked and Bare (16105 words) by HandsAcrossTheSea Chapters: 1/1 Summary: “Have you ever thought about us doing it bare?” Sam pauses with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth and brings his gaze up. “What do you mean?” “You know. Fucking bareback.” Dean’s not looking at him and Sam really, really wishes he would. Sam sets the cup down and exhales slowly. “Maybe.”

the need to choose (4542 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Castiel tells Dean something he never expected to hear.

This is an amazing fic. It does involve Mpreg and Non-traditional A/B/O dynamics. Dean is told he is pregnant. It also discusses the possibility of abortion due to the possibility of Sam and Dean being vessels and their war with Heaven and Hell. I think the concept is utterly brilliant. Sam and Dean having a child would really make it so that Heaven and Hell hunt them down or they give up their child.

reclamation (4152 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Once they're finally on the same page again, once things are okay, Sam realizes there's just one thing missing.

femme (4460 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Rummaging around the internet, Dean finds a kink he hadn't seen before; Sam explains, and demonstrates.

the beams of our house are cedar (7864 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: While they're still cementing the bunker as theirs, Dean remembers something he used to play with, when he was younger. He decides to give Sam a surprise, whenever he gets home.

there will be better days (9430 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

ambiguity (4155 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam has a fantasy that he's long wanted to see realized. Dean misunderstands, at first, but Sam sets him straight.

a gift; win-win (967 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam wants to watch; Dean obliges.

oh so good, oh so fine (7580 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of it started with the kinks Summary: Zachariah gave them their memories back, but he didn't erase what had happened in the time they were other people. Dean Smith made a mistake, and Dean Winchester--well. He's still living with it.

kansas city (4231 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam dies in a barn, and Dean tries to live, after.

deadlybride is one of my favorite wincest authors. everything they write is certified gold. Also, I'm a simple woman, I enjoy reading about Dean in panties.

Good Clean Fun (6050 words) by nigeltde Summary: Loose lips sink ships.

Fair warning, if Sam and Dean having sex when Sam may not be fully with reality squicks you then proceed with caution. It is not stated out right and it is left ambiguous.

Lips That Unlock Doors (2668 words) by AlulaSpeaks Chapters: 1/1 Dean may have the lips that unlock doors, but it’s Sam’s mouth that drives Dean crazy.

Dean just wanted a taste.

You Have Always Been a Fire, Burning Under My Skin (6037 words) by faequeentitania Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of Sharing is Caring Summary: The first time Sam woke up to the sound of Dean jerking off, he was twelve. Hearing your brother stroking himself in the middle of the night shouldn't be a turn on at twelve. And it definitely shouldn't be a turn on at twenty-two, either. But here he was.

The entire series is awesome. There is hetero sex but Sam/Dean has a pretty established thing going on throughout. Sam and Dean enjoy sharing their sexual experiences with women and they enjoy having threesomes.

Giving Thanks (23271 words) by chiquititasnewsong Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam forgets it’s Thanksgiving until he finds Dean in the kitchen at the bunker getting ready for a huge holiday spread. Whether it’s the day or the atmosphere or some kind of odd cosmic synchronicity, Sam takes a chance that turns out to change his life in ways he never dreamed possible.

I love this fic so fuckin much. The mutual pining and the increasing sexual tension is everything to me.

To Have and To Hold (3668 words) by fallingintodivinity Chapters: 1/1 Summary: It’s while standing in the middle of the vegetable aisle at a Wal-Mart, a slightly wilted head of lettuce in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, that Dean Winchester realizes he’s married.

A Warm Respite from a Chilly Night (1854 words) by doilycoffin Chapters: 1/1 After spending a good chunk of their evening freezing their asses off, Dean decides to warm him and Sam up with some good old fashioned spiked hot cocoa. And if it results in him getting to have a little fun with a very tipsy and horny Sam, then who is he to complain?

It's all consensual.

In the Chair Next to Mine (14407 words) by chiquititasnewsong Chapters: 1/1 Summary: This was written for this prompt from the SPN Masquerade Round 10: WINCEST - CAMPBELL BROTHERS, MARRIAGE KINK from: (anonymous) they really do love their little life in lebanon; the cozy quaint togetherness, the domestic bliss of coupledom, and they definitely get off on fooling the townspeople—letting everyone think they're mr. and mr. for real. (matching rings, the occasional pet name slipped, no one around them realizing they're getting an eyeful of incest every time a kiss is shared in public.)

Sam has a serious and intense incest kink. Dean gets into it.

Cri de Cœur [The Heart's Cry] (37817 words) by kelleigh Chapters: 7/7 Summary:

Sam and Dean could use a break after banishing God’s sister to the far reaches of oblivion. However, a new case drops into their laps when they receive a message sent to the Men of Letters using a strange old code. The name Campbell makes it impossible for them to refuse. The hunt takes the Winchesters back to Charleston, South Carolina, a city they haven’t been through in almost twenty years. It plunges them into the obscure and bloody history of an old plantation where ghost sightings and a consuming madness mean the clock is ticking.

Using every resource they have, including the help of the last Campbell ancestor in the South, the testimony of a powerless ghost, and the expertise of a handsome young historian, Sam and Dean need to uncover the truth behind the haunting before it claims another innocent victim. Based on the short story, The Yellow Wallpaper.

This is the second part of a series but it can be read as a stand alone. I love reading case fics and love reading ones that read like it could be on the show. This is awesome. Takes a divergence after Amara reunites with Chuck.

Sticking With You (10522 words) by smalltrolven Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam’s soul has been stretched to the limit after being attached to Chuck via the damn bullet in his shoulder. But now he has something to decide: whether or not to fill Dean in about what had really happened to Sam while Dean was off hunting on his own and killing his old buddy. It takes him the whole drive to Alaska, and nearly the whole way back to work up the courage to spill the whole story.

Dean helps Sam's soul heal and it is a beautiful thing.

nothing's gonna hurt you, baby (17652 words) by orphan_account Chapters: 1/1 Summary: “You get to have this, Dean.” The brush of Sam’s mouth against his own is the sweetest ache. Lips catch and drag and Sam whispers into his mouth, “You get to have this. If you want this, I’m giving it to you. Let me give this to you.” Dean wants to say yes. He wants to say please and I love you and thank you. For the trust, the devotion, the care. It’s not something that has ever needed to be verbalised but god, in this moment Dean wants nothing more than to tell this boy just how much he loves him. “Yeah. Yeah, Sam — I want this.” The words taste like the sweetest freedom and a thousand more years of damnation but Sam’s tongue soothes the burn of them. Long fingers cradle the back of his head tenderly, so tenderly, like he’s something precious to be taken care of, and Dean’s chest feels fit to bursting with how much he loves this kid.

I adore this fic. I really really do. and its sexy hot. This has Daddy kink. Sam calls Dean Daddy and it has undertones of subdropping.

Every New Beginning (1881 words) by remy Chapters: 1/1 Summary: one night you realize you love him, you love him in a way you shouldn’t, in a way you can never tell anyone, least of all him because he is not here. he is miles and miles and miles below your feet, so far out of your reach that you can’t even imagine it, and your chest hurts so sharp and vindictive you can’t breathe. and here’s the thing – without him, you don’t want to.

This is written in second person but it is an honestly beautiful depiction of Dean's feelings for Sam.

they were each other's toxic cure called codependency (2172 words) by nowhere_blake Series: Part 8 of codas for the damned and the brokenhearted Summary: Mary’s back, Dean is gone and Sam stops sleeping. She thought she understood how deep her boys' relationship goes, but when Michael takes over and Dean disappears, she needs to reevaluate just exactly how scarily codependent the two of them are. Coda to 14x01 Stranger in a Strange Land.

There's No Normal After That (6274 words) by Fenix21 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Dean discovers the truth behind the words of what it really means to love his brother.

Dean's turmoil after Sam's non-death is good stuff. This fic is set after Red Meat.

O Heavenly Christmas (8124 words) by SmackTheDevil Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Reunited on a bridge in Heaven, Sam and Dean have much to catch up on and slide back into their close relationship as if they had never been apart. Sam is reflective about a life long lived, while Dean is his usual self; cracking jokes and teasing his brother. But without the weight of the world on their shoulders, for the first time, in a long time they are both able to relax and talk about their time together on Earth, relive a few memories and enjoy their first Christmas together in Heaven.

amazing work and the progress of their re-joining is beautiful

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? (ain't you my baby?) (3367 words) by pilotflyingj Summary: Five times Dean calls Sam "baby," and one time he doesn't.

Monsters Are Always Hungry (27458 words) by untraceablegirl23 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: He peers down at him for just a second, a second that skips on like hours, because looking at Sam is like giving something up, like air, like space, and being replaced entirely with devotion. (Nonlinear depiction of the time Sam and Dean are found out and how it all comes to in the months beforehand which are Heaven and Hell at once. Or an acknowledgement of just how far they’d go for each other, even when it’s beyond wrong, because how can you hide when you’re entirely made for someone else?)

Midnight Ride (2749 words) by ani_coolgirl Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam really just means to get some sleep. But if he wants Dean’s good mood to last, he may as well indulge and enjoy the ride.

Sam indulging Dean's cowboy while Castiel and Jack are in the next room.

#wincest #I have over 100 saved wincest fics #I have a problem #personal #wincest fic recs

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saywhatjessie · 1 year ago

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coarse and rough and irritating

Day three of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 3: Beach Trip Fandom: Supernatural - Pairing: Destiel .6k[Ao3]

“Does this suck?” Dean asked, carefully holding his arms away from his body. “I feel like this sucks.”

Cas hummed, doing his best to wipe the sand off of Dean with a towel.

“Couple of beers, toes in the sand. Sounded great! And the toes in the sand is good but then it gets everywhere.”

“We could always get back in the water,”Cas suggested.

Deans snorted. “Easy for you to say, sun spot. My shoulders are already blistering. How was I supposed to knowI’d burn?”

“I would guess your freckles should have been some clue as to how your fair skin is susceptible to pigmentation.”

Dean grumbled again.

Cas stood up, draping the sandy towel around his neck, and pulled Dean into a kiss. Dean melted immediately, his hands coming up to grip at Cas’s hips, his fingers meeting the tacky sunscreen against Cas’s bare skin.

He whined, pulling away. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the beach was gross?”

“I’m not sure what about the beach is grosser than the normal human experience,” Cas offers, fairly, his thumbs brushing over Dean’s ribs. “But I imagine that everyone else was just happy to see you excited about something.”

Dean pouted, dropping his head against Cas’s shoulder. Cas hummed, bringing one of his hands up to cradle the back of Dean’s head.

It was the first time they’d made it to the beach after everything. First there was Cas being dead and then making Cas not dead, and figuring their shit out – both trauma shit and relationship shit – and then deciding what came next.

Was Dean going to leave hunting? Yes. (Mostly.)

Was Cas human now? Yes. (Mostly.)

Were they moving out? Was Dean going to live somewhere full time without Sam for the first time in his life? Yes. Definitely.

So they bought a house. They got married in the most official way they could in front of all of their family and friends. They started a life.

And they went on vacation to the beach: something Dean had been dreaming about his whole life.

And it sucked.

“I’ve sat in Baby covered in monster guts for a full fourteen hours and been more comfortable than this.” Dean complained, mouth brushing Cas’s coconut smelling skin.

Cas hummed again, kissing his hair. “We could always go home, Dean. Or we could see about renting a boat. Get the sea without the sand.”

“Still have the stupid sunscreen, though.” Dean sighed. “I’m hot. And it’s sticky. And my skin fucking hurts. And my beer tastes like salt.”

Cas rubbed his stubbly chin against Dean’s temple, squeezing him a bit more around the middle. “Dean, I think it might be time to accept that you are a creature of comfort habits who does not like the outside.”

“You calling me a bitch?”

“If you’re asking if I think you’re tough enough to deal with things that are unpleasant, I would say of course you are, you’ve been dealing with unpleasantness your entire life. But this is supposed to be a vacation. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Are you happy, Dean?”

“Here with you? Always, babe.”

Cas huffed his quiet laugh, rubbing his broad hand over Dean’s back. “Yes, you’re very sweet. But would you be happier with me on a couch watching a movie?”

Dean made a sound in his throat. “Can we order sandwiches?”

“We can order whatever you want.”

Dean sighed, pulling away.

“Yeah, okay. We can stay at the B&B, though. I don’t want to drive back until I’ve tried every all you can eat crab place on the strip.”

“Deal.” Cas smiled. “And when Sam and Jody ask about our trip at Christmas, I’ll tell them you were very tough and slept in the sand for days.”

Dean grinned, pulling Cas in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But you’re carrying the cooler: you said it would be lighter when we carried it back but you’ve only drunk two beers so it is not.”

#Destiel #spn #oops I wrote a thing #destiel fic #this is stupid

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50-percent-winchester-sister · 4 years ago

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Just Get Out

Prompt: After John dies, Dean and Sam take it upon themselves to look after you, but...

Dean: 18

Sam: 14

Y/N: 7

Word Count: 2,030

It's just been a month since your dad, John Winchester died, and all you have left family wise are your older brothers Sam and Dean. You didn't know what death really meant since you are so young, but your brothers knew, and they knew too well. Since you were seven your dad didn't really let you in on what he and your brothers did, all you know is that you and sometimes Sam get left at a motel for a while and they come back bloody and bruised. So when John died, Sam and Dean don't really talk as much as they used to, but for you, they really do try.

What you did know is how to practically annoy the hell out of them...well...sometimes. You are mostly a good kid according to Sam, who decided to take on the 'motherly' role, and Dean the 'fatherly' role. When Dean turned 18, he decided on his own to drop out of high school, but you and Sam are still in school, and Sam plans to keep it that way.

Okay now onto the story

Its 7:36pm, Sam went to the library for homework, so tonight is just you and Dean. You and Dean are in the kitchen and hes making dinner while you sit on the kitchen table. "Alright Y/N, we don't got much tonight, so I'm making mac and cheese...the good kind, not the kind Sam makes," Dean says with a tiny smirk.

"But De, I don't want macky cheese, I want chicken!" You say with a small but excited voice. Dean turns back to you, frowns and says "Y/N, we dont have chicken, this is all we got until Sam goes to the store."

"Wait what!?!?! But De I want chicken now!!" you say filled with whine and a little bit of sass. 'geez I really don't want to deal with this right now,' Dean thinks to himself "Y/N please, just reason with me tonight, I'll make Sam go to the store tomorrow," He says sounding defeated. Oh but hell no, in your tiny seven year old brain, you knew what you had to do

Step 1: Be quiet and wait like a good sister

Step 2: Once De is done and sets food in front of you

Step 3: PUSH IT OFF ON THE FLOOR

Step 4: Wait hold on-

Step 5: Why does De look like hes about to ye-

"Fucking hell, really Y/N!? You cant be fucking serious, what the hell was that for?" Dean yells at you. "De I said I wanted-" But he cut you off and said "I JUST TOLD YOU THIS IS ALL WE GOT" He says louder than his first statement. Now your'e shaken, but you know it takes more to make you cry.

"I don't care! I don't want macky cheese De!"

"Y/N, just get out"

...This is the calmest hes been all week

"Wha-"

"JUST GET THE HELL OUT" Dean practically screams.

Okay now that there is starting to make you cry

You quickly get off of the kitchen chair and you bolt to the stairs where all the bedrooms are. But of course you have to turn around and yell

"I WISH DAD WAS HERE, HE WOULD GET REAL MAD IF YOU YELLED AT ME!" and then you run up the stairs and slam your door shut, locking it in the process. _______________________________________

'Great that's just fuckin' perfect,' Dean thinks to himself. 'What the hell am I supposed to tell Sammy? Oh yeah, I screamed at Y/N because she wouldn't comply, and now foods all over the floor and I think I'm having a meltdown!'

'Sometimes I wish I never came here!' you think to yourself, pretty much sobbing while laying down on your bed. 'wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want me here too-."

You fall asleep shortly after the thought and Dean couldn't be any more relieved when he hears the door open and to see Sam with his backpack in one arm and a couple books in the other hand.

"Hey whats-...what happened?" Sam says slowly putting his backpack on the floor. Sam staring at Dean and all the food that's on the floor around him "oh, haha, this? oh, its nothing Sam, just a minor fuckin' mishap!" Dean says laughing through each word with eyes that look like hes about to sob any minute.

"....Dean?" Sam asks. Its been a while since there was major conflict... well since the whole situation with Dad anyways. "Was it Y/N?"

"What? No of course not, this is just a normal Friday fuckin night....yeah just, don't worry 'bout it" Dean says with his voice dying down a little bit.

"Should I go talk to her?" Sam asks. such a small voice but its filled with a lot of concern.

"No, she's asleep...maybe later?" Dean says back to him. 'He seems tired' Sam thinks to himself. 'Well I did leave her here with him...' _______________________________________

You wake up pretty early... well early for you anyways, its 9:30am and you got woken up to puffy red eyes and really messed up hair. You go ahead and leave your bedroom and when you enter the kitchen you get greeted by Sam, who is making breakfast.

"Morning sunshine," Sam says with a slight happy tone, but still pretty monotone. 'he's trying, that's a good thing' you think to yourself.

"Morning..." you say back, rubbing your eyes and climbing up onto the chair near the kitchen table. "So...wheres De?" you ask in a sleepy tone. "He's more or less still asleep" Sam replies. Sure enough right when Sam says that, Dean walks in all sleepy-like too. 'so similar' Sam thinks. "Morning to you too sunshine" Sam says with a pretty wide grin afterwards. "Bite me, princess" Dean shoots back, also with a small smirk.

You look at Dean, Dean looks at you, and a couple seconds later you two look away, but the stare you two gave felt like it was forever.

"Hi" you managed to squeak out. Without meaning to, you were quiet and a little bit nervous.

"Hey" Dean replies, but not looking at you, instead looking at the table, then to his hands, and then to Sam.

"Hey Sammy, do you think dad had any hunts that he wrote down in his journal for us to do?" Dean asks. Looking around Dean finds your dads journal on the couch in the living room. He picks it up and skims through the pages.

"I...don't know? Dad never talked to me personally about hunts, just you" Sam says as a matter-of-factly. Sam sets your breakfast down in front of you, and a plate for Dean on the other side of the table. "Why?" Sam asks.

"Because I want to hunt? We haven't in a while and you know dad will tear us a new one if he sees us on our asses doing nothing," Dean proclaims, in a slight aggressive manner, though it was almost accidental.

"But he's...not here," you say out loud without meaning to. You look up to see Sam and Dean both looking at you, and right then you look back down. While looking down you hear footsteps, and right when you look back up, you see Dean staring right at you. 'The eye contact is unbearable' you think to yourself

"Just because hes dead, doesn't mean we can just fuck around and do nothing," Dean says with so much venom you begin to shake a little.

"Dean. Back. Up." Sam says, looking at Dean with an angry look and his teeth practically glued together. Sam takes Deans shoulder and yanks him back, and he makes Dean bend down so he can whisper something into his ear.

"I know you and Y/N have this personal issue going on right now, but I'll be damned if I ever hear you talk to her like that again, hear me?" Sam whispers, he lets go of Dean shoulder and looks at Dean. Dean looks back at him, looks at you, looks at Sam again, and nods, running his hand through his hair.

"Good," Sam says quietly. Sam walks towards you and bends down, "When you're finished with your breakfast, head on up to your room, you're not in trouble, but I'll talk with you later, okay?" Sam tells you,

"Okay" You say, looking at Sam. You finished your breakfast rather quickly. During that time, Dean went into his own room, and Sam went out into the backyard to do whatever he does, you're not really sure. You put your dirty plates into the sink and you fast walk to your room, and you quietly shut your door. _______________________________________

Waiting.....sucks. You have no clue how long you waited for Sam but it felt like forever. In reality it was probably like thirty minutes, but thirty minutes to a seven year old is all day.

You begin to space out when you hear a small knock on your door. You jump a bit because you didn't really expect it since you didn't know when Sam would come by.

You get up off your bed and you begin to walk to your door when the door was already opening. you stop and look up

"...Dean?" You ask. 'uh-oh' you think to yourself. You walk back a little bit and he sits down on your bedroom floor and holds his arms out for you to come sit in his lap. He hasn't said a word yet you heard exactly what he is wanting to ask.

You look at him. He looks at you. Both have no clue what to say to each other.

You slowly walk towards him, and you climb into his lap, both getting comfortable in the process

It had to have been like five minutes before Dean starts talking. "I'm sorry" he says to you. Smiling, you start talking too. "Me too" you say and you look up to see Dean beginning to tear up.

Okay now its time to panic

Dean crying is something that you never see so...you begin to tear up too.

"De? Are you okay?"

"I wish Dad was here, He would get real mad at me if he saw the way I was acting" Dean says. "Wouldn't be surprised if he beat my ass, just because I'm eighteen, doesn't mean shit to him" he says with a small laugh after the comment.

"Well I think you're doing a good job" You say to him quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. "Just because you're eighteen, doesn't mean you aren't bad at being a brother, neither is Sam" You add.

Dean, trying not to just sob in front of you, breaths in and breaths out a couple of times.

"You're seven, when did you become so smart?" Dean asks hugging you rather tightly

You giggle at his comment and say, "I'm your sister, I had to have learned something from you."

"Good answer" Dean says.

Without knowing, Sam is leaning on the door frame, with his arms crossed looking at you and Dean with the biggest smile ever. "Hey," Sam says and makes both you and Dean jump slightly, Sam giggles and that and continues,

"The garage called, they want you to come in and help fix a 67' Mustang," Sam says.

"Oh whaaat," you whine. you begin to get off of Dean so he can go to his job when he quickly snatches you back up, gets up off of the ground and throws you over his shoulders.

"How do you feel about coming with me? Who knows maybe-"

"Will Seth be there?" You ask excitedly. (For some backstory, John's long time friend Seth works where Dean works, and ever since you met Seth, you've practically 'fallen in love' with him)

"More than likely, he likes old cars like we do," Dean replies. "Yes! okay come on, lets go, come on, come on, come on" You say, trying to hurry up Dean,

"Okay, okay, lets go" Dean laughs while replying. You two leave the room, and Sam closes your door. Again, with a big smile on his face, Sam starts thinking to himself, 'Yeah, everything will be okay'

#dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #sam x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sister!winchester #winchester sister #winchester!sister #winchester

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emotionallyits2009 · 4 years ago

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deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :)

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010.

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on.

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

#fic #deancas #destiel

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angelkurenai · 4 years ago

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Imagine being in a relationship with Dean, but when you finally start to make things more serious, you start to distance yourself and keep quiet from him. Being worried he might have ruined the best thing to ever happen to him and despite his insecurities, Dean decides to have a talk with you to figure out what’s wrong.

“What?” Dean's voice was gruff, still far too early for him to speak or stand in the first place especially since he hasn't had his coffee yet, but he did repeat with a frown at his brother “What?”

“Huh?” Sam blinked, looking away from your still – maybe far too still to be normal – form, hunched over your steaming cup of coffee, to look at his brother who had one raised eyebrow at him already “Oh uh, I- What did you say again?”

“I asked you. What's the matter man?” Dean blinked slowly compared to his brother who blinked too fast.

“No, nothing's the- You know actually-” Sam cleared his throat, turning more towards his brother and lowering his voice “I've just- I was looking at (Y/n) and I've noticed that lately some things are different, like- like this morning, and I've been meaning to ask you but I didn't know if I should so I just-”

“Sam” Dean said in a rough voice “Too early. Too many words. Cut to it.”

“Is she alright?” he asked with actual worry both on his face and in his voice “Cause I- I was paying attention to some things and she really doesn't seem like herself. I would've asked her but, while I'm her best friend, I didn't know if it was entirely my place to. So I thought I should ask you, seeing how attached to the hip you two are. Is (Y/n) alright?”

“I-” Dean started but frowned even more, his eyes immediately jumping to take in your form at the moment as he tilted his head to the side in confusion and deep thought “I don't-”

“You don't? Don't what, Dean? Don't know? She's your girlfriend, for crying out loud!” Sam whispered-hissed at his brother.

“I just- She seemed fine to me all this time! I never noticed a thing out of the ordinary. She's acting the same way she always did around me!” Dean shrugged, voice also hushed “No, really, that's how it's always been. Our relationship is the same too, maybe better than ever! I mean-” a smile, or more like a proud grin, started lifting the corners of his lips as he looked a bit into the distance in thought “If last night was any indicator, we are certainly better than ever!”

“You- what?” Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother with a tilt of his head.

“You know, I was a bit tired after the case, but then she came out of the shower wearing my shirt and you know how one thing can lead to another, and I really couldn't help. It was oof-” Dean blew out a breath “Wow, really, wow. So much of-” Dean had started recounting the events of the previous night with a coy smile on his face, until Sam interrupted him.

“Dean. Dean! Hey, not- not the point here, yes? And I'm certainly not interested in being scared for life by the mental images that would inevitably invade my mind, please and thank you.” the younger Winchester pointed out, effectively cutting him off also with a look that made Dean's smile vanish and the man sober up and get more serious “Our point here is (Y/n) and whether she is alright or not.”

“She-” Dean paused, letting out a short huff before straightening his back “Hey, honey? (Y/n)?”

“Hmh? What?” you asked slowly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you finally looked at something but your coffee, your boyfriend.

“Are you alright?” he asked caringly still.

“Define alright.” you said back with a serious face and they shared a look “Alright as in alright with an asteroid striking earth and killing everyone this morning or alright as in alright with passing out and sleep the rest of my life off with occasional breaks for midnight snacks?”

It took a couple seconds for any of the Winchesters to speak, only silence having followed save for the sound of the coffee machine, as they both stood there for a couple seconds only blinking”Alright as in... alright? Alright as in functioning properly as a human being and being... mentally stable perhaps?”

“Oh” you blinked, only twice, in understanding before shaking your head “No, then. No.” you went back to staring at your coffee, waiting for it to cool down and letting silence hang in the air but for a shorter amount of time before you added “As for mentally stable though, I think I've got something close to it. My mind is in a stable situation as in a never-changing state.”

“Never-changing state? Wh-what would that be?”

“You know, normal stuff.” you shrugged, eyes still laced with sleep “Like an internet browser.”

“You mean... like a computer? Sharp and with a good memory?”

“No, I mean like a browser. Fifteen tabs are open, seven of them are frozen and I don't know where the music is coming from.” you said with a casual shrug “But there's nothing new about it. 'S pretty much the story of my life, how I've always been. 24/7 and it stays the same, so don't worry.”

“I-” Sam frowned even more deeply, blinking in confusion again before shaking his head and turning his head abruptly to look at his brother and mostly glare at him, before he whispered “You call this alright?”

“Well, just between you and I... yeah!” Dean shrugged “That's how she is man, we both know it.”

“Well, yes, obviously. But today she seems to be even more of... that! Seriously, Dean-” Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head “Work with me for a moment here, ok? Really do. Think well about this. Has something happened that could affect her? Something that maybe... you don't even know about? Something that she wouldn't tell you for one reason or another?”

“Not tell me? Why would she not-”

“I don't know. I mean-” Sam shrugged, face going more serious this time around “Does she have a reason to? Is there something there that would cause it? Is... Is everything ok between the two of you?”

“Of course, why else-” Dean started, defending himself and what you had, before it slowly started downing on him and he stopped abruptly, going serious immediately “I'll- I will go talk to her.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, maybe you should wait a bit? Think this trough?” there was clear doubt in both Sam's voice and face, not that it deterred the older Winchester in the least bit. He was far too busy being worried abut other things than him messing up.

“Yeah, I've got this. Don't worry, I'll clear it all up.” he reassured his brother though Sam looked anything but reassured.

“Doubt that but alright, whatever you say.” Sam sighed “Just- Make sure to be calm. Be careful about this.”

Though Dean barely paid attention to half of the words, he gave a nod at his brother – which, alright, looked more dismissive than anything else – before making his way towards you.

“Hey, honey.” he said softly, slowly reaching out to take hold of your hand; the only thing you did was hum in acknowledgment, eyes focus on stirring your coffee.

“Alright uhm-” he cleared his throat, glancing at his younger brother who was looking closely at the two of you in concern “Hey, sweetheart, are you- How are you feeling today?” he corrected himself when he realized his previous question had already gotten an answer, albeit weird one.

“Oh just a lil bit tired. 'S all. But what else is new?” you shrugged, finally moving to slowly take a large sip of your coffee and sigh in content.

“I understand, the case was a bit tough for all of us. But things will get better, we'll take a break for some time if need be.” he nodded his head slowly, his fingers playing with yours as he hesitated for another second “I just- You know, you seem a bit off, so I- I couldn't help but feel slightly concerned about you. And I know you said you are ok but I wanted... I neededto ask you again if everything is really alright... between us?” his question managed to make you look up from your cup with a deepening frown and tilt of your head, fact that only put him even more on edge and made him worry even more.

“You felt concerned?” you question, glancing at Sam the same second he did.

“Yeah, I- well, we both did. But I even more so, you understand. So I just wanted to ask you. And honey, if- if I ever did anything, if I wronged you somehow, if- gosh, if I hurt you even, I am so sorry. I didn't- I didn't even realize it, I get so caught up with our hunts sometimes that... maybe I even neglect you. Some kind of boyfriend, I am.” he scoffed at himself, shaking his head “I know I suck sometimes, but you know I love you more than anything. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and to know that I might have somehow ruined this in any way, even in the slightest, hurts as hell. So I want you to tell me, I want us to talk, so I- so I can do my utmost to fix it. Something. Anything. So I can be better for you.”

“Fix it?” the more you only repeated his words in that careful, low tone the more the man panicked on the inside that things were much more wrong than he knew and wondered if there even was any fixing it.

“I- Well, I hope?” he asked slowly, before squeezing your hand “I just want us to be alright and it's clear that we're not. You just seem off and I was hoping you could talk to me about it, that I could change it. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need from me? Anything at all. You just tell me and I promise-”

“Well, since you started this-” you shrugged, straightening your back “I wasn't going to mention this but, yes, maybe you are right. There is something great I need, that I almost can't live without, and that I feel like I've been missing all this time. I really don't know how to tell you but in every relationship we must also think of ourselves, not our partner. There is no use in suffering just to make the other happy, it's not healthy. So I guess, enough is enough after some point, right?” you asked and he gave a weak nod “Dean-” you sighed heavily as he looked at you with almost wide, terrified eyes “I really need some space.”

Sam held his breath as he watched with almost wide eyes on his own the scene unfold before him, expecting anxiously his brother's reaction. He really hoped he didn't overreact, though, that his words were carefully thought, calm and collected instead of-

“You're breaking up with me?!” Dean nearly yelped the exclaim and Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. There went the first option of a civilized conversation, right out of the window.

You held his gaze for a couple more seconds, face completely blank before you finally snapped or close to it as you punched Dean on the shoulder “You're taking up all the bed you little piece of shit! I just need some space to sleep comfortably without having the fear of ending up on the floor, you idiot! I haven't been able to sleep well for the entire week because of you just sprawl out on the damn bed and take up all of the freaking space!”

When a kick on the foot under the table followed, Sam couldn't help but snort and let the smile rest on his lips. Relief, no doubt ten times bigger, washed over his brother though Sam wasn't sure for how long it would last.

“I'm so-”

“Oh no, you don't get to apologize! You don't get to say shit about this Winchester. I barely slept two hours last night, two freaking hours! All the while you were sprawled and snoring softly and murmuring in your sleep and enjoying your time in freaking dreamland like Sleeping Beauty!” but you apparently could snap harder and much as it made Dean back down with wide eyes, Sam was thoroughly enjoying it “So you want to be a good boyfriend and really try to make our relationship work? How about you start with the freaking basics such as letting me survive! Cause last time I checked lack of sleep is detrimental to one's health.”

“I- I will. I promise, I-”

“You fucking better.” you hissed, glaring at him before you grabbed your cup and got up, pausing only to look at Sam but with less menace because, in all honesty, he wasn't the one that wouldn't let you sleep “See? That's why I didn't like falling in love! Before you know it you sacrifice everything that's important to you for the other one. From sleep to your favorite cake! At least back then I didn't have to share my bed with anyone, it was all mine. And gosh, I will forever mourn that last piece I didn't get to eat. See, back when we weren't together he would have never dared do something like that! Now he has the audacity to do than and think that makeup sex will solve everything.” you scoffed shaking your head before muttering “Have a good day Sammy.” and exiting the kitchen.

“You have a nice day, too, honey.” Dean said albeit a bit more hesitantly, voice small.

“Don't tell me what to do!” you yelled both so that he could hear you and so that he knew you were far from alright “And stay the fuck away from my leftover fries!”

“I- alright.” Dean let out a breath, eyes wide before he shook his head and cleared his throat “Ok, well, it's safe to say that we don't have to wonder or worry anymore, right? So, silver lining.”

“Well, that did look like an (Y/n) who hasn't slept well, so yes it's safe to say we can be sure about what troubles her. Though I don't think that you're far from done.”

“No, yeah, I had no such illusion.” Dean sighed, getting his cup and taking a sip “I'm definitely gonna be sleeping on the floor for the next week.”

“Hmm maybe make it two?”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot #sam #sam winchester #incorrect quotes #fluff

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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Honey & Sweetheart

Spoilers for Season 15x20 finale

Summary: The reader talks to Jensen and a special friend about struggling with parts of the finale...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1,700ish

Warnings: language, spoilers

A/N: I wrote this one more for me than anyone else but if you feel similarly to how I do, I hope it helps you a bit like it did for me...

______

“Honey,” said Jensen as you stared out the window over the kitchen sink. “Oven’s going off.”

You spun and heard the beeping from the timer but he was already pulling on oven gloves. He took out the dish and set it on the counter, taking off the mitts with a strange look.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” he asked. You shrugged and he stepped behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist. “Still thinking about the finale?”

“It was a few days ago,” you said.

“Honey. I thought you said you liked it Thursday night.”

“Oh course I said I liked it. This thing has been a part of you for so long. You’ve been with the show longer than we’ve even known each other. I am so proud of you and the guys and everything you did.”

“But.”

“But I’m so angry and sad at what they did to Dean. I wish I’d asked you to tell me the end over a year ago when you found out instead me wanting to be surprised. I’m so mad because there was a sign all over your face about how it would go and I ignored it because I thought you were upset they would both live quiet normal lives and not go out blaze of glory. I should have said something. I would have called somebody.”

“Honey no one would have listened,” he sighed. “That was the ending always.”

“They should have listened to what you thought about it.”

“It was decided before I walked in the room.”

“I get it. It’s just not fair you had to do what they said with no say of your own. No one on earth knows Dean better than you and they ignored you and that’s wrong.”

“I’m not a writer, Y/N. I didn’t have a good idea.”

“Why the fuck did we just make a production company if you don’t have the ability to come up with ideas then?” you shot back. He stepped away and started to walk out of the kitchen when he paused. “I’m sorry. I know you had no choice. I’m sorry you’re telling me it’s okay as much as I’m telling you lately. I should be taking care of you. He deserved so fucking better though.”

“I know he did,” said Jensen quietly. “I know some people liked it. Some hated it. The general consensus I’ve gotten one or the other is that yeah, most agree he deserved better. I knew he did. But it’s done and I can’t change it.”

“I know, honey,” you said. You nodded and he stepped closer again, resting his hands on your arms and cocking his head.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice lower and you looked up at him. You stared and he smiled.

“Jensen don’t-”

“That’s not my name,” he said, still smirking at you. “You do realize I’m like right here, sweetheart. Anytime you want me I’m right here.”

“No you’re not. You died a stupid death. I would have taken a stabbing, a bite, a shot, a sacrifice, so many other ways. A fucking accidental death for you was stupid. Some think it’s poetic and realistic but I don’t,” you said. He shrugged and you bit your bottom lip.

“You were always gonna be upset if I died though.”

“Because your character grew the fuck up and knew he could have more in life. You should have gotten to have more than a dog for a week. You deserved everything Sam got too. I deserved to see that was Eileen he ended up with. I deserved to see that Cas and everyone Dean cared about was in his eventual heaven when he was an old, old man. I deserved so much better than a premature death.”

“I was forty one.”

“Jensen’s forty two. So if he keels over I’m supposed to say aw shucks he lived long enough, it’s cool? I wanted you to have everything you fucking deserve. What was the fucking point of you growing all that time for you to die from fucking rebar on a run of the mill hunt? You died just like you thought you would as a kid and I fucking hate that. Just because it is how you thought you would go out does not mean it-”

He leaned down and kissed you hard, resting his forehead against yours as he broke off.

“I never said it was a perfect ending, sweetheart. Write your own story. Write how I come back. Take it from me, I know a guy, hot guy, you may be acquainted with him and he really wants to come back in a few years once he’s gotten some space. He wants to take more control if that happens. He will he promises. He wants someone that cares as much as he does to help him figure that out. So you gonna help him out and figure out that perfect ending for me? That way to bring me back? You know this world. We break the rules all the time. You could have me back in a heartbeat. What do you say? Gonna help him and his friends out?”

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“I know you see yourself in me, sweetheart. I know you look up to me. I’ve heard from our mutual friend,” he said. You turned your head away and felt tears build up again for the millionth time in the past week. His fingers grazed your cheek and turned you back to face him. “So I deserved better. I deserved a long and happy life. Just because I deserved it and didn’t get it doesn’t mean that your story ends up like mine.”

You blinked and he smiled, stroking your cheek.

“You can have your happy ending. Keep going towards it. Don’t ever stop. You deserve your happy ending too. But you’re writing your story. You can take control in a way I couldn’t. You deserve happiness and you’ll get it. Don’t be scared it’ll go away, sweetheart.”

“I hadn’t thought of that until just now,” you breathed out.

“I know. Don’t be scared for you is all I ask. Go figure out my comeback story and figure out how to give me some kickass hunter wife and I get the kids and house and whole nine yards. You figure that out for me cause you need it and I’m not opposed to it. In the meantime, I’m gonna hang around with our mutual friend. Well I’m always gonna be around him but I’ll be around if you want to talk. Just say so. I’m gonna tag along the ride of his happiness for now okay?”

“You’re such a dork,” you said as you nodded and rested your head against his chest. “But I fucking love you. Both of you.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m okay. I promise. I want you to be too. If our friend tries to take care of you, do me a favor and let him? He’s not the only one allowed to feel so strongly about this.”

“Okay, Dean,” you said with a smile. “I think I feel better now.”

“It’s okay, honey,” said Jensen, his voice lighter as you hugged him.

“Thanks for doing that. I needed it,” you said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he chuckled. “But maybe listen to our friend. He made some good points.”

“I’ll still be upset about it all, maybe forever, but I’ll be okay,” you said. He kissed your temple and you shut your eyes, holding onto him. “Would it bother you if I honestly said there was parts of it I didn’t like at this moment?”

“It’d only bother me if you pretended to like it because you think that’d make me happy. You can support me and be proud of me without loving 100% of it. I have my own thoughts and opinions on it all, you can have yours too...plus I wouldn’t mind seeing your way of mixing it all up...you gonna pull the boys out of heaven?”

“Maybe. A few years from now, if you’re ever really serious about what you said, own it. Make those choices yourself.”

“Yes mam,” he said, kissing you again. “Want to go see if the new coat rack I put up in the mudroom earlier looks alright? I think I really nailed it.”

You stared at him and he giggled as he broke away.

“Too soon. So too soon,” you said as he pulled you with him towards the far side of the house.

“You cry and stress bake. I use bad humor and talking to Dean to cope. We all got out methods,” he said. “But seriously, I think I nailed it.”

“Jensen. You need to stop.”

“I’m gonna take a selfie with it and make that joke on instagram. Everyone’s gonna love that,” he chuckled.

“You need to calm down with the shitty jokes on instagram young man,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“You laughed. I won,” he said, booping your nose. “Thanks for telling me how you really feel about the end though. The end for now at least.”

“Just gotta keep teasing me with that don’t you,” you smiled.

“Not a tease, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a wink. “Maybe we can get Dean with a beard and some swearing, what do you say?”

“Maybe I could get a preview of that?” you asked.

“You certainly fucking can,” he smirked, voice low again.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely on the list,” you laughed. He cocked his head and kissed you gently, picking you up off the ground. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

______

#spn spoilers #dontspoilthefinalhunt #spn season 15 spoilers #jensen x reader #spn season 15x20 spoilers #spn #supernatural #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen imagine #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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hoboal87 · 4 years ago

Text

Carry On

Pairing : Sam x Reader, Platonic!Dean x Reader

Summary : One year after defeating Chuck, Sam and Dean are still hunting, but you’ve quit the life. When the boys take a vacation that quickly turns into a hunt, none of you expect it to change your lives forever.

Characters : Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, mentions of Bobby, Jody, Donna and the Girls

Word Count : 3.1k (I tried to keep it below 3k, but...😕)

Warnings : SPOILERS FOR 15X20, Angst, Feels, Fluff (it gets a little gross at the end), A Sprinkling of Pre-Smut, Pregnancy

A/N : This will keep the canon of the finale, and takes place during and after 15x20, but with an added reader insert. This was written as a sequel to “The Tie” but can be read as a stand-alone.

A/N 2 : This is my entry for @negans-lucille-tblr “6k Roll the Dice Challenge.” My prompt is “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” which is bolded.

No Beta, all mistakes are my own.

Check out my Masterlist here

You pull another book down from the library wall; everything has been relatively quiet since Jack took over Heaven, Rowena has put a leash on the demons, the only monsters you and the boys had to worry about were run-of-the-mill, so to speak. Adjusting to this new life is easier than you thought it would be, using the last year to learn that without the necessity to hunt, you and Sam were finally free to live your own lives. After Chuck was rendered powerless, you decided to give up hunting for good. Sam won't, you know that, Sam and Dean had been hunting their whole lives, but you were thrust into the life.

You make your way back towards your shared room with Sam, twirling the small diamond ring on your finger, passing Dean’s along the way. You peer inside, glad to see that the once mass trove of empty beer and whiskey bottles were gone. Sure, there’s still a few bottles strewn throughout the room, but nothing like it was before. In the months following Cas’ death, Dean had been a shell of himself, drinking himself into an early grave. He never told you or Sam exactly how Cas summoned the empty, or why it took him along with Billie. Dean always kept himself bottled up, until he would explode, letting his grief out by way of yelling and screaming. Cas’ trench was usually hanging in the corner, but it wasn’t there now, Dean must’ve taken it with him. Dean was still in pain, that much was clear.

Sam and Dean are off at some pie fest, and you opted to stay behind. You waved the boys off, asking Dean to eat a pie just for you. Sam and Dean needed this; brother time. It was something that rarely happened since you joined them over five years ago, even before you were with Sam, you, Cas or Jack were always tagging along. You saw it as the perfect opportunity to take some time for yourself as well, figuring out where you and Sam would go from here. Sam talked about going back to school, finishing his degree and applying to Law School again, he even had you buy him books on LSAT prep. You talked at length about taking the next steps in your relationship, you couldn’t ever get legally married, but you starting planning a ceremony anyway. Before Chuck was gone, you were content to just be, never needing more, afraid that it would be ripped out from under you the minute you let your guard down.

As you settle into your and Sam’s bed, book in hand, you feel as the weight that’s been sitting on your chest has finally lifted, you can breathe. It's been years since you've been able to truly relax, and as much fun as a pie fest sounded, you wanted to stay at the bunker, taking comfort in your and Sam's shared room. They’d only been gone a few days, but you already missed Sam terribly, pathetic, you know. Never in your life would you have imagined wanting and needing someone like you did Sam. The next morning you wake up to a text from Sam. The brothers mini-vacation quickly turned into a vampire hunt, a nest John had hunted years ago. The boys could handle it, you know that much, it's a milk run compared to everything they've fought over the years. Be Safe, Love You. You responded and went on with your day.

Sam always keeps you in the loop when he and Dean go on a hunt without you, providing you with a source of comfort knowing that they’ve killed the bad guy or solved the mystery. But now, they’ve been silent for too long, a nest of Vamps shouldn’t take more than a few days, and you start to worry. You’re heading towards the garage, determined to track down Sam and Dean, and lay it on thick about how worried you were when they went silent. You’re about to open the door to the garage when it swings open and Sam’s long body fills the frame. It startles you at first, even causing Miracle to bark in surprise. You throw your arms around Sam, all anger gone now that he’s back home with you.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You scold Sam. “You know how much I hate it when you and Dean stop responding.” You want to be mad, but you’re so focused on the fact that Sam’s back home with you again, that nothing else seems to matter. “If you’re gonna keep hunting you have to keep me in the loop,” you mumble.

Sam’s body stiffens against your touch. It takes him a minute, but he reciprocates your hug, pulling you tight against him. You stand there, waiting for some smart remark from Dean, normally barking at the two of you to get a room, but there’s nothing but the echo of the Impala’s engine filling the air. You try to pull away from Sam, but his grip around you only tightens, this hunt must have been more difficult than he or Dean anticipated. Head pressed against Sam’s chest, you can hear his heart thumping loudly and rapidly. Dean would never let you and Sam hold on to each other as long as you have.

“Sammy?” You whisper, trying to pull away again. Sam’s grip finally loosens, but his hands don’t leave you as you take a small step back. Your eyes travel upwards, finally landing on Sam’s face, his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, almost as if he has been crying. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam shakes his head as tears fill his eyes.

“Where’s Dean?” You ask as you watch Sam slowly break down. His head nods towards the Impala, and you pull away completely from Sam’s embrace.

You run towards the Impala as fast as your legs can carry you, a swing open the back door, hoping to see Dean’s shining emerald eyes. Tears blur your vision faster than you can comprehend what you’re seeing. Dean’s lifeless body lays in the back seat, all color drained from him. You scan him desperately, waiting for some kind of sign that this is all a cruel prank, that he and Sam were trying to get one over you for not coming with them on this hunt.

But, there’s nothing.

You scream out, falling to your knees, Dean was just as much your brother as he was Sam’s, he was your best friend, and now, he’s gone. Your cries fill the otherwise silent garage, he can’t be dead, not like this, not on some vampire hunt, something he’s done a hundred times before. Not when you know that he was looking to settle down, find some normalcy, or at least normal for him. He deserved to live, he didn’t deserve to die at the hands of a monster.

Dean wasn’t going to be there when you and Sam got married, when you told Sam about the baby you were carrying. God, how were you going to tell him that? Dean was going to help you surprise Sam, as soon as they came home, he was going to start dropping hints, see how long it took Sam to figure it out. But now, you stared at his body, tearing streaming down your face, you couldn’t stop crying if you wanted to. Sam’s strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and you both sit on the floor, unable to do anything but mourn the loss of the elder Winchester.

Through your sobs, you can hear Sam trying to offer you some comfort, assuring you that he went down saving the victims. You could barely process anything he was saying, and if this is how you felt, you can’t even begin to imagine how he feels. Dean was the only real family that Sam had left, there had to be a way to get him back.

“No, baby,” Sam murmurs in your ear through his tears, “I promised him. No bringing him back.” You didn’t realize you had said it out loud. “He wants us to keep going, he wants us to live.”

Three days later you’re surrounded by all the family you’d gained through the boys. Jody, Donna, Claire, Bobby and Charlie plus too many people to keep track of. You and Sam had already given Dean his proper send-off, dividing his ashes between the graveyard where Mary and John were buried and keeping the rest for yourselves. Jody told the story of the first time she’d met the brothers over ten years ago and how she’d come to think of the boys as surrogate sons. Claire talked about the time she and Dean went mini-golfing and how offended he was when she didn’t understand his Caddyshack references. The bunker was full laughter, it was Dean told you he wanted all those years ago.

You and Sam couldn’t stay in the Bunker after that. You’d left it open to all hunters, you’d still come back occasionally, but it was no longer home. You and Sam packed up most of your and Dean’s things, fitting as much as you could into the Impala, knowing that the two rooms would always be off limits to future hunters. Sam nearly slides into the passenger seat when you leave, and you can see it hitting him all over again. Dean’s gone.

You drive around the country for a few weeks, unsure of where to make your new home. Neither of you ever had a real home before moving into the Bunker, and you were the only family you had left now. You settle in Sioux Falls, Jody and the girls were there, Donna was close enough, and if need be, you could be back in Lebanon in a matter of 5 hours.

You find a small house close to where Bobby’s used to be, it is still a salvage yard, but Bobby’s house is long gone. As the weeks pass you don’t know how much longer you can keep your pregnancy hidden from Sam. Every time you try to tell him, it feels wrong; you are both still grieving the loss of Dean, and Sam has fallen into a deep depression. You have Jody take you to your doctor appointments, and she scolds you for not telling Sam, but when she drops you at your new home, and sees the current state of Sam, she backs off.

At your next appointment, she laughs and cries with you when you learn that you were carrying a boy, Dean. When you first told Dean that you were pregnant, he immediately insisted that the newest Winchester should be named after him, “boy or girl!” He insisted, “I’m named after a Deanna.”

“I think the world only needs one Dean Winchester,” you retorted playfully. Now, it seems the perfect way to carry on Dean’s legacy.

When you leave the doctors, you finally realize how obvious it is that you’re pregnant, your stomach rounding out perfectly under your shirt. You’re almost insulted that Sam hasn’t noticed your ever-growing stomach and the extra pounds you’ve put on over the last month, but he hasn't been himself since Dean died. You hadn’t been intimate with him since you settled into your new house, and he spends most of his day sleeping or in a fugue-like state.

Jody insists on taking you shopping for baby supplies, and by the end you’ve got a shopping cart onesies, blankets, something called a diaper genie, and many other things you didn’t even know you needed. As you walk through the store an iron-on name display catches your eye, and you make your way towards it. The names are written in large cursive lettering, and you hope that you can find the right one. You nearly squeal when you do, and find a plain onesie to attach it to.

You’re glad that the baby store carries labeless bags, especially when Sam is up and about when you get home. He looks good today, he’s slightly sweaty, and you know that he left the house and went for a run. He greets you with a quick kiss, a sheen of sweat covering his face, and makes for your room. He eyes the bags in your hands, but doesn’t say anything, and a few minutes later you can hear the shower running. Thank God, you sigh and take the bags into an empty room, Miracle following closely behind you. You set the bags down in what will be baby Dean’s nursery, Jody’s right, you think, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

You find the onesie and the iron-on decal, you place it in the center and carefully attach the decal. After letting it cool you tuck it into a small gift bag. You hear the shower turn off, and make your way back into your bedroom, placing the bag on your bedside table, waiting for Sam to exit the bathroom. You can’t help but stare at him appreciatively when he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re suddenly very aware of how long it's been since you’d been with him. Sam catches you eyeing him, and smirks, sending a jolt straight down to your core. You missed this, not just the sex, but how he takes charge with you, his domineering presence making you melt. He leans over you, and places a tender yet eager kiss on your lips.

You reach for the towel, letting it slide onto the floor as Sam deepens the kiss, and start to work him over in your hands. Sam groans at your touch, and starts to pull at your shirt, pulling his face away just long enough to rid you of it. Sam’s lips are back on yours just as quickly as they were gone. His hands palm at your breasts, and you moan into his hands reach into the overflowing cups, you really loved your pregnancy boobs, but your bras were doing very little to keep them in place. Sam’s hands travel to your back, and undos your bra, letting your breasts fall free. Sam finally opens his eyes when his hands land on your protruding stomach and takes a few steps back.

He quickly pulls on a pair of sweatpants as you pull your shirt back over your head, trying you best not to cry as he starts pacing the floor of your bedroom. You wait for him to say something, anything; you weren’t trying when you realized you were pregnant. You’d just gone off your birth control, and everyone told you it would take at least a few months for your body to get back to its natural cycle. You both knew it was possible but figured you’d have at least 6 months before really actively trying for a baby.

Sam’s face is almost unreadable; you can’t tell if he’s happy or mad, if he’ll tell you it’s too soon, that he’s not ready. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, as if he can’t figure out what to say. If Dean were here, he’d probably knock him upside his head, telling him this exactly what he’s always wanted.

“How– why–” Sam stammers as you move to the edge of the bed. “Are you– You’re pregnant.” He says it almost as if it’s a question and you nod your head. “How long?” There’s almost an accusation in his voice, you’re sure it’s not intentional, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“18 weeks,” you murmur, trying to hold back your tears. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but it’s– it never seemed to be the right time. When you and Dean–” Sam winces at the mention of Dean’s name, you hadn’t said it out loud in almost a month, not since you left the Bunker. “I found out right before you left, I was going to tell you when you got back. But… after… I was afraid that you’d say it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon.”

“It is too soon,” Sam mutters under his breath, you’re sure it’s not meant to be malicious, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “You said it would take at least 6 months.”

“It’s different for everyone,” you offer, as Sam runs his hands through his hair, still pacing in front of you. “Please, Sam, can you sit down? You’re freaking me out.” Sam moves to the edge of the bed, and sits down next to you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Sam whispers, eyeing your belly. “I don’t know how– I don’t know how to be a dad.”

“Yes, you do,” you grab his hand, and place it on your belly. “Dean taught you everything you would ever need to know.”

Sam smiles sadly, “I ever tell you about the night I left for Stanford?” You shake your head. “Dad and me, we got into this huge fight. So of course, Dean steps in– gets between us, attempts to calm us, but we were both just– just too fucking stubborn to listen.” He removes his hand, focusing down on them as he fidgets. “When dad said don’t come back, I called his bluff, and I was– I was so pissed at Dean, I thought he was taking Dad’s side, that I didn’t even say bye to him. I didn’t have it myself to go with grace. I walked away from him, the only family that I had, and I regretted it for years. I- I feel like he should be the one here, that- that we’re moving on too quickly.”

“Dean, he– he wouldn’t want you, us, to live like this, we owe it to him to keep fighting, to live our lives. I know how much you miss him,” a tear slips from Sam’s eye. “I miss him too, but you know what keeps me going everyday?” Sam shakes his head, and you take his hand in yours again, and place it back on the swell of your belly just as little Dean decides to kick for the first time. The smile on Sam’s face is instant, you can’t stop the happy tears from falling as Sam shifts in front of you, and lays his head on your swollen stomach. “Our son.”

Sam cries, truly cries for the first time since the day he brought home Dean’s body. You hold him against you, he’s been so pent up for the last 3 months, bottling up his emotions, he needs this, you both do. You’d been so focused on the baby growing inside of you never realized that you hadn’t realized that Sam had never come to terms with Dean’s death.

“It’s a boy?” Sam asks as his cries cease. “We’re having a son?”

“We’re having a son,” you nod, and hand Sam the gift bag still sitting on your bedside table.

Sam opens the bag, and you smile as he pulls out the green onesie, his eyes lighting up as he reads the lettering.

“You’re sure?” He questions.

“The world lost one Dean Winchester, let’s give it another.”

Please give let me know what you think! Reblog or send an ask

Forever Tags:

@that-one-gay-girl

@akshi8278

#bees6krollthedicechallenge #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural spoilers #supernatural fic #spn family #pregnant reader #supernatural #daddy!Sam

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icefire149 · 4 years ago

Text

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Ten - (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

It didn't take long to get all the shopping bags in the house. With the heel of her boot, Claire held the front door open for Cas. She knew it was because of his angel powers, but she was still silently impressed by his carry-it-all-at-once-I'm-only-making-one-trip game.

Claire followed behind him with Jack in her arms. He was still deep asleep and his face was squished into her shoulder. His downy hair pressed against her neck. She kept a hand on his back while they went into the living room.

Cas unceremoniously dropped the bags in the center of the room. He turned and his eyes softened, falling on the sleeping nephilim. "I can put Jack to bed." He held his hands out.

Wordlessly, she passed Jack over, and watched Cas take a moment to study the baby’s sleeping face. A prickle of irritation made her want to snap, that she didn’t do anything to damage the kid, but she managed to keep it choked down. Cas murmured something to Jack’s temple, and then he left a soft kiss there. After that he promptly disappeared upstairs. A weird tight feeling circled through Claire’s chest. She suddenly felt very alone.

Trying to push that thought aside, Claire started poking through the bags until she found the one with school supplies. They somehow managed to fill an entire bag with pens, notebooks, post-it notes, and high-lighters. Now she had to find a place for it.

Claire brought that bag into the kitchen and stood there for a moment surveying the room. Eventually she decided to toss it onto the table. With a shrug, she figured the table would be where their hunter school would happen anyways.

When she circled back to the living room, Cas was already there and sorting the clothes. He glanced at her over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. “Did you take the notebooks? They’re not here.”

“I beat you to them. They’re in the kitchen,” she said pointing with her thumb over her shoulder.

Cas nodded, and went back to making two piles. The next bag he picked up made him pause. “Oh, this one’s yours.” He passed it over.

“Thanks,” Claire mumbled, biting the inside corner of her bottom lip. She rolled the plastic bag in her hands. Inside was the black bomber jacket with the blue stripe down the sleeves and the galaxy shirt Jack picked out. Some tiny part of her just couldn’t leave them behind.

Cas went back to sorting the clothes immediately. Sighing, Claire slowly made her way towards the staircase. She didn’t particularly want to help, but she did glance back at Cas again. The bottom step groaned under the weight of her foot. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes?” He looked up. The traffic-cone, orange sweater, that Claire dubbed an abomination, was in his hands.

“Where were you going to store your stuff upstairs: in the closet or the drawers? I don’t wanna get in the way while I’m borrowing the room.”

His gaze squished into an intense squint. “I hadn’t thought about that yet.” The corner of Claire’s mouth hooked into a small, amused smile. Cas continued, “I suppose though...that I should just repack everything into the bags again. Store them out of the way down here.”

“Why?” Claire’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have an entire bedroom.”

“Yes, but I gave it to you. I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

Her smile vanished. Claire crossed her arms. “I’m living out of a duffle bag and the backseat of my car. I’m not messing with the furniture in your room.”

Cas’ head turned to the side. “But you could unpack and use that space while you’re here.”

“Or you could put your shit away like a normal person, because it’s YOUR ROOM!”

Standing up straighter, Cas tossed the sweater aside on the couch. His stare never broke from Claire’s. “For all intents and purposes the room is yours. I already told you that I don’t need a bedroom.”

“And I thought you said that I was free to leave at any time!”

“You are. I don’t under-”

“NO. So I’m supposed to just pretend I don’t see the whole little family act?” Claire took her foot off the step. Her voice dripped with venom. “Is this whole ‘helping me be a better hunter’ thing just something to ease your conscious? You couldn’t run away from playing house this time….so why not try to make up for lost time?”

Claire shoved the plastic bag into Cas’ chest as hard as she could. Cas didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak either. The shine in his sad, blue eyes made her want to scream.

The next thing she was aware of, Claire was slamming her car door shut. Her hands trembled, and that pissed her off even more. Again and again, she slammed her hands into the steering wheel until her eyes were too blurry to see a damn thing.

Claire had no idea how much time had passed when she heard a light knock on the passenger side, front window, but the blanket of night was indicator enough that it had been a while. There was no point in looking, she knew who it was so instead she started wiping the remaining tears away with the palms of her hands.

The door creaked opened and Cas slid into the front seat. In with him came the wafting smell of hot food, and Claire’s stomach immediately growled. She finally turned to him, and Cas held a plate out to her in one hand and a covered container in the other.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you bring me grilled cheese and…?”

“Creamy tomato soup.”

She took both, and got herself situated with the plate in her lap and the soup container in her hands. But Claire stopped herself before digging in. She eyed the grilled cheese cautiously. Only one corner looked like it was auditioning to be a piece of charcoal. “Did...you cook? Like actually made this from scratch?”

“Yes.” He looked away, leaning his elbow on the door. “And the house is still standing.”

“Why did you cook when you know it’s a hazard?”

Cas sighed, and rolled his gaze back over to her. He held it for several moments before speaking. “Eat before your food gets cold. I can still remember how unpleasant that can be.”

Nodding, Claire started taking big mouthfuls of soup. They sat there like that in silence while she ate. Cas stared out the window lost in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until Claire’s bites slowed down that Cas finally spoke. “I’m sorry.” Claire burst into a coughing fit. Her mouth had been full, and that was the last thing she was expecting from the angel.

He continued while eyeing her carefully. “I never meant to upset you. I’m in no way trying to force anything on you.” Cas turned away and leaned back in the chair. He stared at the ceiling above him.

“I know.” Claire’s voice was quiet. She put the empty soup container in the cup holder between the front seats and slid the crumb covered plate onto the dashboard. “Loo-”

“It surprised me….I surprised me..when I asked you to meet me out here. Giving away my secret location…”

“Why’d you do it then?” Claire ran her index finger across the side of the steering wheel. “You won’t even let the Winchesters near Jack.”

Cas shifted his whole body as much as he could in the front seat to face her. “I was scared when you said you were hunting alone. The feeling was overwhelming.”

“I’m not a child, Castiel.” Claire clenched her jaw. The embers of her anger were growing hotter again.

“I’m aware.” There was a low warning tone in his voice. “Don’t mistake or misshapen my fears. This isn’t about coddling you or...treating you like you’re incapable.” The tension eased in Claire’s jaw. He continued, “Those feelings mean…..your presence as well as your absence...they matter to me. You matter.”

Claire stared at him in disbelief. Her hands squirmed awkwardly in her lap. “So the teaching sessions…?”

“I haven’t lied. I want to help you, and I want to pass my knowledge along.” His head tilted just a bit. “Claire, I’ll never be able to repay you or...make anything right. I know that, but….this is something I can do. And selfishly...I’d like you to be the best.”

Claire’s lip twitched. “That’s...uh..a high bar.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth pulled into a small grin. “Honestly, I don’t think it is. Many hunters speak of Sam and Dean like they’re legendary. And….while I understand the reasons why….”

“They’re stumbling ass-backwards into everything,” Claire grinned.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Cas deadpanned. He shook his head. “The difference maker is knowledge and I have millennia of information.”

Claire’s gaze fell to her lap. She felt a myriad of emotions bouncing around her head. It made her chest feel tight. “So….this is about your guilty conscious.”

“No,” Cas frowned. “Um...uh, well, to a degree, yes. I’ll never forgive myself for the wrongs I’ve done, but my guilt isn’t why I care...or why I want to see you succeed at something that I hear you enjoy a lot.” That got Claire to glance back at him. “I see you as my friend and as my family. Just like Sam, and Jack, and Dean. And...things have been hectic since I last saw you. A part of me honestly called you here, because I missed you.”

“You did?” Her lip twitched.

He nodded. “Initially, I thought distance would be better. I didn’t think you’d want me around….” Cas glanced down at himself and sighed. “or to have to look at me.”

“Well that’s not the case,” Claire snapped. Cas looked at her startled. Her voice softened. “I thought I never wanted to see your face again….but then I’d hear through the grape vine that shit was going down...and I’d be waiting to hear from you.”

She crossed her arms and refused to look at Cas. “I figured that if Jody was on Sam and Dean’s goodbye list for the end then I was on yours, right? And then I’d get radio silence.” Claire paused. The pain in her voice didn’t hide well. “It sucks being disappointed all over again…”

“I’m so sorry. I-I…” Cas reached a hand out but stopped halfway between them. Looking away, he withdrew his hand. His next words tumbled out in a whisper. “Of course I would have called you….I wasn’t able to when things went….badly...I’m sorry. That’s a poor excuse.”

Claire rolled her gaze over to him. “Explain then.”

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “So...Dean was dealing with the mark of Cain.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “That was a while ago.”

He sighed. “It was, but it’s where a lot of bad things started.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“It took a lot of effort to free him from the mark, and….he was resistant. Turns out he had good reason instinctually. Removing the mark also removed the bindings keeping the Darkness out of creation.”

“The Darkness? With a capital D…...Jody wasn’t kidding about that?” Claire stared at him incredulously.

“No, regrettably. Her name’s Amara, and….she’s God’s sister.”

“Yikes.”

Cas shook his head. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Claire turned in her seat, bending a leg and leaning her back into the door. “Sooo the mark broke and the Darkness was released. Nice going dumbass.”

“I know…...and it got worse.” Cas rolled his eyes. “The witch we had helping us with the spell-work, Rowena, she stole a very powerful book when the spell was complete and she….hit me with her magic.”

Claire sat up straighter. “Magic works on angels?”

“Yes, but luckily not perfectly,” he said very matter-of-fact. “She calls it her attack dog spell. And it makes the victim rabid until they drop dead with bloody eyes.”

“What….did it do to you?”

“I….I eventually broke through the rabid behavior, but I was still at the mercy of Rowena removing the spell completely. And she was persuaded to do so, but it did have lasting affects…” Cas wouldn’t meet Claire’s eye. He was carefully choosing his words. “The spell might have killed me in the long term, but it did dig deep into my being and shredded everything it touched. I’m grateful Sam and Dean were there for me during that time. The recovery was...longer than I would have liked.”

Claire nodded and ran a hand over her knee. “What happened with Amara?”

“Oh...yes. Amara.” Cas took a deep breath. “After that, Amara was the pressing issue. She took a personal interest in Dean as...he was the last bearer of the mark.”

“Gross.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas chose to ignore that. He continued, “We learned that it took Chuck….um, God – he likes to be called Chuck – and all the archangels to cage her away before.” Claire grimaced. “And there’s only two archangels left.”

“Okay, that’s a not so fun fact.”

“No. There’s nothing fun about that.” Cas shook his head. “And they’re both caged in Hell so….they weren’t exactly available.”

There was a quiet pause where Claire was still processing every bit of information Cas shared. She didn’t miss that he seemed to be growing uncomfortable. He was twitching and pulling at his coat sleeves. And then, it dawned on her. “You asshats freed the devil, didn’t you?”

Defensive, Cas argued, “We….I was trying to do what was best..for everyone.” Claire’s gaze narrowed. “Lucifer was our only option. We didn’t know where or who God was, and Sam was receiving visions as answers to his prayers. Sadly, we were being tricked.”

She nodded. “So, rip the band-aid off. How’d you do it?”

Cas frowned. “I….I couldn’t ask Sam to make that sacrifice again. Lucifer wanted to use him as a vessel again.”

“Again?” Claire coughed. Cas hummed in response. Claire continued, “We need to go back to that later. Keep going.”

“And Dean nee-the whole world needed Amara gone. To do that we needed Lucifer. So I said yes.”

Leaning forward, Claire dropped her face into her hands. “You let the devil walk around in my dad’s body. Your body.”

“I’m not infallible, Claire.”

“My dad would be spinning in his grave...if he had one.”

“Yeah….let’s not tell Jimmy about that. He would be rather upset.”

She lifted her head and stared at him oddly. “Last I checked Heaven doesn’t have cell service. How am I supposed to tell him anything?”

“That’s fair.” Cas shrugged. “These days I feel like anything is possible eventually. I’d like to be prepared.” Claire nodded. “Granted all you need is to send an angel with a note.”

Stunned, it took Claire a moment to speak. “If you weren’t hiding from Heaven...you could talk to my parents?”

“I could.” His voice came out softly. “If there’s anything you want me to pass along to them...let me know. One day I may be able to….or at the very least I might run into an angel I trust that could do that for you.”

Claire shifted her gaze so she was looking out the windshield instead. Quietly, she turned his words over and over again in her head. She was still processing when she gave him a small nod. After a few more minutes she was ready to push that information aside for a while. She turned back to Cas. “So if Lucifer was walking around in…..well, where were you?”

“Oh, um…” His gaze fell to his lap, guilty. “I agreed for him to possess me so...uh, I was right in here..as well. Only, he was in control and I had no way to overpower him.”

“You agreed to be trapped in your own mind?”

He still wouldn’t meet her eye. “Yes.” The silence stretched on long enough that Cas glanced up and saw that the last traces of Claire’s anger had cooled. She looked concerned, and between that and the guilt of his past mistakes, Castiel felt like his airway was being crushed.

“What….what happened next?”

“That’s where...it gets...uh, Dean...would call it fuzzy. I’m aware that he did pretend to be me, but that was short lived. He lost my car. He terrorized Heaven, and Hell. I’m told…..” Cas’ voice grew quieter. “-that Dean, Sam, and some of our tentative...allies..they put a lot of energy into reaching me so I could expel him.”

“Good,” Claire snapped. Cas’ looked at her quizzically. “What? I’d kick their asses if they didn’t fix your boneheaded dumbassery.”

His tone was sharp. “I did what I thought was necessary.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was stupid.”

“I know,” Cas barked. They both sat there in their frustration for a bit. “Eventually….Chuck came back and Amara tore Lucifer from me. Problem solved.”

Claire glared out the window. Her jaw was taut. “Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t intend to. It was vile.” Exasperated, Claire exhaled loudly. Cas continued, “Chuck and Amara came to an agreement and the world was fine again. Lucifer was free so I spent my time pursuing him.” He didn’t miss the shiver that Claire tried to hide. Softly, he added, “But there’s nothing to worry about anymore. He’s caged. He’s just a distant memory.”

They sat there in silence after that. Eyes closed, Claire leaned her head back against the glass of the window. “Thanks….for you know, telling me…”

“Thank you for...being understanding,” Cas said gently.

She opened her eyes. “Our lives are insane.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be.” Claire shook her head. “Things suck, but I’m glad I met Jody, and Alex, Sam and Dean.” Her eyes looked sad, but there was a soft smile fighting to stay on her face. “Jack...and you.”

Dumbfounded, Cas nodded. The emotions swelling in his chest felt inordinate. Her words meant more to him than he knew how to express.

“Whoa!” Claire flew forward, putting her hands on the dashboard and pressing her chest to the steering wheel. “Did you see that?”

Castiel tensed. “What?” He leaned forward, studying the view in front of them.

“The lights flickered. Like some kind of power surge.” She opened the car door. “Come on, let’s see what Jack did this time.”

Exhaling, Cas deflated in his seat for a moment. He knew what caused the electrical issue and it wasn’t Jack. Cas took another deep breath and composed himself. He swiftly got out of the car, taking the trash from dinner with him. Before Claire could open the house door, he paused, “Claire?”

She pivoted on her heels, turning around. “Yeah?”

Momentarily, he struggled to find the right words. He knew that he needed to get this out now. “All...um, all you need to do is ask.”

“What?” She looked at him like he grew several more heads.

“In the future...if you decide that you want me around more...or less. Just ask.”

Claire rolled her eyes, and pushed the front door open. “Yeah, yeah. I get it now.” Cas followed her into the house. She went to the staircase and paused on the bottom step again. Her eyes found his. “I’ll consider it when you start doing the same.” She went upstairs, leaving Cas confused in the living room.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@nightandwine @autumnapologist

#spn #Castiel #Claire Novak #dadstiel #supernatural #baby jack truthing #An Angel's Vow #my writing #finally a new chapter

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

Text

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down)

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products.

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold.

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him.

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth.

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes.

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks.

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended.

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore.

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing.

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register.

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words.

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff.

Damn transphobes.

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect.

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go.

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous.

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and-

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again.

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.”

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar.

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him.

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone.

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen.

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually.

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief. What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried.

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes.

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

#i fixed it #god fucking damn it #dean winchester #destiel #saileen #saileena #sam winchester #castiel #eileen leahy #castiel winchester #jack kline #roweena #my writing #ficlet #deancas #trans dean #trans woman OC #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide mention

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riversongg · 4 years ago

Text

Here With Me

Summary: What if Dean had never died? What if Eileen had come back? What if Sam and Dean had been allowed to visit their loved ones and grieve the ones they lost? What if they had saved Cas from the empty? What if they got to live their happily ever after? Chapter 1: exile Word Count: 1757 Read on AO3

The first day after Chuck is defeated is a good one. They’re free. They’re finally free. For the first time in years Sam feels like he can finally breathe. That first day they take some time for themselves. They sleep. A lot. They eat, drink some beer. They go for a drive and feel the breeze on their skin. Sam cries a bit too, the tears of relief escaping after holding in so much tension for so long. There had always been one thing after another. Another problem, another monster, another evil deity trying to take over the world.

So yes, for that first day, they exist and do nothing else.

On the second day they have work to do. First, Sam calls Eileen. They’d texted a whole bunch already, Sam ecstatic beyond belief that she was back, but she understood that he needed time, time to realise that everything was okay, that this new reality wasn’t going to be ripped from under him, before reaching out. But one day without seeing each other is more than enough time before they are talking face to face, Sam breaking down in sobs at only eight in the morning. She’s back.

The air feels cleaner, the weight on Sam’s shoulders lightened. It’s even easier to breathe than before. He longs to reach out and hold her in his arms, but there will be time for that. They have all the time in the world.

Day three finds them on the road. Dean driving, windows down, head rocking to the Zeppelin he has turned right the way up. Sam’s knee keeps bouncing with anticipation. Dean tells him to “Cut it out, man” a few teams before he gives up, allowing Sam this moment of excitement.

They pull over for gas around noon and that’s when Dean finds the dog. Miracle, he had called him back before the end of Chuck. Sam remembers seeing the dog when Jack brought everyone back, but seeing him again, for the third time in only a few days, it’s evident to the brothers that this dog is meant to be theirs. Miracle sits between the two of them, peering through the front window of the Impala, tongue lolling out of his mouth as they draw nearer to Eileen’s.

When Sam and Eileen reunite, Dean and Miracle wait in the car. There’s a lot of crying as Sam scoops her into his arms, lifting her up and squeezing tight. He takes in her scent, never wanting to forget the way it feels when she is with him. There’s lots of kissing too, but mostly they’re just happy to hold each other.

The weight lifts a little more, every moment he’s with her he’s a little more free.

They arrive at Jody’s the next day. As the three of them, and Miracle, pull up to the house they are greeted with love and warmth. Sam’s heart swells seeing his family alive and well. Claire has her arm around Kaia’s shoulders, Kaia giving them a little wave as they get out of the car. Patience and Alex give them bright smiles and Jody runs up to hug the two of them. When she gets to Dean Sam sees not only that she squeezes extra tight, but Dean holds onto her for a little longer too, almost reluctant to leave the hug. Donna is there too and she’s the first one to hug Eileen. She speaks to her in the little sign language she knows and Sam notices Eileen light up, her whole body becoming a little less tense.

As they make their way inside, Dean lingers behind. Sam turns to call him in but notices the sadness in his smile. Sam tells Eileen and the rest of the girls to go on in without them. Eileen smiles, understanding.

Sam goes back to his brother at the curb, patting Dean’s shoulder.

“They should be here, man,” his brother tells him, his voice quiet and tight. Sam sighs. He still doesn’t know what happened when the Empty took Cas; Dean won’t talk about that day. As for Jack? Sam knows he’s okay, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less that he will never be able to hug the kid again, never again hear his laugh or see his face light up in a smile.

“I miss them.” And that’s all there is. There’s peace, and there’s pain, and there’s a part of Sam’s family that will always be gone, but he knows more than anyone that there’s always a way to move on and be content, knowing that the pain will always be there, but one day it won’t feel so big.

They stay like that for a few moments, thinking about the ones they lost, before Sam makes his way into the house, ready to exist in the joy and laughter these wonderful women have to offer.

At some point Claire disappears, and she shows up a few hours later with an exhausted looking Dean. Cas may have been Sam’s best friend, but Claire and Dean had a connection to Cas like no one else. It was good that they talked, Sam thought. Maybe it would help them both say goodbye, knowing that they’re not so alone in their grief.

They stay at Jody’s for two days before they decide to head home to the bunker. Of course, they take a couple of detours, visiting Charlie and Garth and a few other hunter connections on the way. It’s nice spending time with their friends without the constant threat of danger around every corner. Having fun should not be a novelty, but going to the park with Garth’s kids, playing arcade games with Charlie, these are the things Sam has been missing, the things he didn’t know that he needed.

When they get back to the bunker, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as can be. Eileen stays with them for a while, her and Sam spending lots of time in his room. Dean takes Miracle on lots of walks and one day even takes Sam to a nearby lake that he likes. It has become a new favourite spot for the two of them, Dean often spending hours near the water, Miracle by his side.

Two weeks in, Dean starts eating less. It takes Sam another week to notice. Eileen has moved home by this point, though they video chat every day. Sam plans on visiting her in a week or so, but one day he notices that Miracle is asking for his daily walk and Dean is nowhere to be seen. Sam finds him in the garage, passed out in the front of the Impala, an empty bottle of whisky at his side.

He carries Dean to his bed that night, his brother too drunk to wake up as Sam hastily pulls him out of the car and into his arms, bridal style. He knows Dean would knock him senseless if he knew, but Sam didn’t care. They never talk about it. Dean wakes up the next morning, chugs a bottle of aspirin thinking Sam wouldn’t notice and gets on with his day.

A slice of toast.

A walk around the lake with Miracle.

A beer before lunch.

Not actually eating lunch and heading straight into research looking for a case.

Not finding anything.

Another bottle of whisky.

Another night in the Impala.

Sam knows then that he can’t leave Dean. He starts cooking, like, really cooking. Dean has always been the one with the culinary skills, so it takes Sam a few attempts to actually make a half decent burger, but day by day he pushes a sandwich, a salad, a bowl of cereal towards Dean and doesn’t leave him alone until his plate is completely empty.

Six weeks after Chuck, Dean stops speaking. He stops walking Miracle, stops watching movies. He eats because Sam forces him, drinks because he wants to. He does research, for what Sam doesn’t know, and sits and stares as though waiting for something to appear. Sam realises now that he had been foolish to believe that everything would be okay. Life is never that simple for the Winchesters.

Eileen decides to visit one weekend after Sam explains that he’s worried about leaving Dean alone. They’re just coming in from a date, Sam heading to the kitchen to get them some drinks when he hears it. Crying. No, sobbing. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs that ricochet throughout the bunker. Sam freezes. He has never, never, heard Dean cry like this. This is something so raw that Sam feels like he’s intruding. This isn’t something anyone should ever have to endure.

He knew Dean was not okay, but this? Sam could never have imagined to hear something like this coming from his brother, broken or not.

He makes a decision on instinct, and rushes down the hallway towards Dean’s room. The door is open and he sees Dean rocking back and forth on his bed, a pillow held tight to his face. For a second Sam thinks the crying has stopped, but then Dean lets out an abominable scream, the hair on Sam’s arms standing alert.

Sam has experience Hell and then some, but this is the worst thing he has ever heard.

He rushes forwards and reaches towards Dean. Dean jumps at Sam’s touch and starts to pull away when he realises he has been caught, but Sam climbs onto the bed behind him and pulls him tight.

“Shh,” Sam says, arms around his brother, Dean burying his face into Sam’s chest. “Let it out, Dean. Let it out.” And he does. Sam doesn’t know how long they sit there but soon Dean’s sobbing settles into steady tears and Eileen appears at Dean’s doorway, not wanting to invade.

“Whatever it is Dean, we will fix it. We will find you some help.” He strokes Dean’s back to the rhythm of his breathing, keeping him calm.

“This is the one thing that can’t be fixed,” Dean mumbles into Sam so quietly Sam barely heard him.

“What is, Dean?” he asks softly. “What can’t be fixed?”

“He’s gone,” Dean says, his voice breaking. “Cas is gone and he’s never coming back.” Dean takes in a shaky breath and holds it. Sam is afraid of what might happen when he lets it out.

It’s there, in Dean’s room, his big brother helpless in arms, the love of his life at the door that he decides it: one way or another, he’s getting Castiel back.

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#my writing #wizardinpyjamas #mine #deancas #destiel #fic #destiel fic #15x19 #15x19 coda #fix it fic #fix it #finale fix it #kind of #destiel fanfic #destiel fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fic; here with me

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nonagesimus · 4 years ago

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(Fic) if you think it’s love (it is) - Sastiel ~2.5k

(AO3 Link)

Sam decides it’s time Cas finally gets that date. Happy Valentine’s Day, sastielers!

It was three days after the grace-extracting experiment. They had been quiet. Researching, looking for cases. Sam had calmed after the spell failed - for about a day. Since then Castiel had caught him staring in quiet moments, hovering over books with his gaze in middle distance instead of on the pages, chewing his fingernails. When he’d asked was was bothering him, Sam had said nothing. So, he waited. If Sam wanted to tell him something, he would. Eventually. Apparently three days was that eventually.

“I- I’m sorry if this is weird,” was an auspicious start, as he stepped into the library, but Castiel just waited for him to continue. “Dean told me - just mentioned, really - that while you were human you had kind of a… date that wasn’t.”

Which, yes, it probably was a little weird. Castiel was still unsure of what social cues he’d missed or ignored in that particular situation. But none of that was Sam’s fault. “I did,” he confirmed, neutrally.

“So, did you ever get a date?” Sam seemed to be very focused on carefully placing his coffee mug on the table without spilling anything. “A real one?”

“No,” Castiel said. “I think I’m ok without one, though.”

“No!” Sam’s voice came out a little strangled. “No, you- let me take you out.”

Castiel took his attention completely off the book he’d been scanning to fix his gaze to Sam, who at least had looked up at him now. Wide-eyed and a little paler than normal. “You want to take me on a date?”

That made Sam’s gaze skitter back to the table. “I just feel like you should have one.”

Castiel’s instinct was to push. Past the nerves, and the averted eyes, and the skip he could hear in Sam’s heartbeat. If he pushed, he thought, that might make Sam back off. “Ok,” he said, instead.

“Ok?” The word seemed like it rushed out of Sam’s chest involuntarily, breathy and relieved. “Ok. Great. Would- uh. How about the day after tomorrow?”

It wasn’t like Castiel had plans.

If he had, he would’ve cancelled them.

“How do I know you know what you’re talking about?” he asked Sam the next day, while he was watching him eat breakfast. “What’s the best date you’ve ever been on?”

Sam, to his surprise, flushed a little. “Ok, uh. There was this date I went on at Stanford. And- so you gotta understand it’s like a six hour drive from Palo Alto to LA,” he said, smile already curling the corners of his lips. “And Jess said she wanted to make a trip down, and I wasn’t sure. Twelve hours in a car is a long time, unless we wanted to get a motel or somewhere down there, but she was really into the idea, so… We go. We’d been together, like. Six months? I think.” His eyes had softened, looking into his memories. “Turns out she wanted to drag me to this bookstore she’d gone to with her family. They’d visited her Freshman year, taken a trip down to see the sights and…” He trailed off.

“And?” Castiel prompted.

“It’s called The Last Bookstore,” Sam said, focusing in on Castiel again. “It’s this huge place downtown. Bottoms floor is new books, top floor is all secondhand. Themed rooms, art features, the lot.”

“Sounds like your kind of place,” Castiel said.

“It was,” Sam said. His smile went distant again. “It took me an hour to realise that Jess liked it, sure, she thought it was a great bookstore. But it wasn’t six-hour-drive worth it to her. She just knew it would be to me.”

Castiel nodded, considering it. “That does sound nice.”

“We were so tired driving back I almost crashed the car,” Sam said. “But yeah.”

The next day, to Castiel’s surprise, they started early. Sam drove, did not tell Castiel where they were going. He’d packed a backpack, and didn’t protest when Castiel inspected it - it contained food. sandwiches, fruit, and carrot sticks, a thermos of coffee. Enough for Sam for the day.

“I’m guessing we’ll be out for a while,” he said, zipping it back up.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Unless- if you’re not having a good time just tell me. We can always go back.”

“You’re the one who wanted to take me out, Sam,” Castiel said, calmly. “I’m trusting you to do it.”

But Sam was nervous. Clear in the tension of his hands on the steering wheel, the set of his jaw. That, more than anything else, contributed to a quiet drive. Not uncomfortably - Sam had spent enough of his life on long car rides, and Castiel had certainly learned to bear them since he lost his wings. Sam took occasional sips from the thermos, they listened to local radio stations fade in and out, and watched the Kansas greenery go by. Until, a little before ten in the morning, Sam guided him into a small museum surrounded by short hiking trails.

And it was guided - Sam kept opening doors for him, kept hovering his hand near Castiel’s lower back, watching him out of the corner of his eye. They made it through three rooms - full of life-size dioramas, and informative placards, and really big rocks - before they spoke.

It wasn’t that it wasn’t interesting. A level of information the hovered in-between the levels that Castiel did know - the macro of heaven and the extreme micro of the world he now lived in with the Winchesters. As well as the displays, he watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. He had wondered if he’d linger close the whole time, that hand near the small of his back, a steady presence at his side. But, no, Sam orbits. Sometimes looking at the same displays as Castiel, sometimes across the room. Always aware of him, it seemed.

“So,” Castiel said the next time they felt themselves side by side, looking at a series of miniature log cabins, each in different stages of completion. “If this is supposed to be a bookshop moment, like Jess gave you, why here?”

Sam worried at his lip, cheeks a little flushed. “I don’t know if this is that special, but - and do correct me if I’m wrong, but I hope I’m not - you’ve experienced so much of history from the outside. Just through heaven’s point of view. And then you came down, and you fought with us, and you stayed with us. It made me think you might be a little interested in seeing more things from our perspective.”

“Oh.” Because of course models and dioramas were not just models and dioramas.

“Besides,” Sam said, with a little more confidence. “After the whole molecules discussion it was pretty obvious dinner was a bad idea.” He flashed a quick grin.

Castiel wished he’d brought a flower, like he had when he’d been wrong about it. For some reason it felt like it might’ve jinxed it. Was that a holdover from being human or just from spending so much time with the humans he was with? The same result either way.

Two hours had gone by, spent in equal contemplation of the exhibits and the man who had brought him to see them, when Sam suggested they head back to the car.

“The museum is open until five,” Castiel pointed out.

“We’ve got a location two,” Sam said, “And they close at five as well. We leave now we’ll have a couple of hours once we get there.”

Another three-ish hour drive then. “Using all your ideas on one day?” Castiel asked, moving with Sam towards the exit regardless. “There’s time.”

Sam laughed. “When have you known us to have this many days off in a row?”

It was true. Not just in the always-an-impending-catastrophe way, either. Castiel had been able to tell there was energy building up in Sam when they were in the bunker. That he was healing, but that also meant that a growing part of him was yearning to work again. Maybe planning this had partially been a way to burn off some of that.

Sam pulled open the passenger side door for him.

The set out again. Sam ate some of the food he’d packed for himself one handed - Castiel busied himself helping open and close containers, pouring from the thermos. Watching Sam drive. A shorter drive, but only slightly.

“This is,” Sam said, guiding Castiel towards the entrance, “The Cosmosphere.”

This one - this one Castiel liked better. There was something endearing, something comforting, something familiar about how hard humans strived for flight. And he understood, now, the lack of it. This was something that was too often missed, in heaven. They’d watched humanity grow, obviously, but they ignored how much of it had been under their own power. That the ‘hairless apes’ had taken stone, and steel, and fire, and built themselves wings.

He was staring up an a model of Saturn V when he noticed how closely Sam was watching him.

There was anxiety in his eyes, but also a fondness. A warmth.

Castiel’s chest was warm, too.

They lingered right up until closing time, walking so close as they left that it was easy for Castiel to brush their shoulders together, watch Sam duck his head and smile.

And he’d known. He’d known, as soon as he heard the way Sam’s heart skipped when he’d asked if he could take him out, at every door he’d opened, how he’d been watching Castiel closer than any of the exhibits. Sam opened the door of the car for him again, and Castiel stopped to grip his arm, feel it solid and warm under his palm.

“Thank you for this, Sam,” he said.

Sam’s answering smile was bright, and open, and felt a little like sunshine. “There’s, uh. There’s one more thing. If you want to do it.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Oh?”

“Suns gonna be down in about an hour,” Sam said. “I thought… If you wanted to I thought we could stop and stargaze for a while.”

It sounded romantic.

It was cold, in the December air, but Sam had managed to stow blankets in the car without Castiel noticing. He draped one over the hood, and piled the others on top of them. He didn’t feel the cold, not like Sam did, but the blankets were an excuse to sit closer that completely necessary. Shoulders pressed in together. One ankle thrown over one of Sam’s. They talked, a little. Mostly they stared up at the sky. Sam finished the lukewarm coffee left in the thermos. Castiel listened to him breath, to the beat of his heart.

After a long time, Sam made a slightly apologetic noise, sliding off the hood of the car. “This isn’t great date talk, he said, “but we should get going, and I really need to take a leak before we drive home.” Then he tramped off into the undergrowth off the side of the road.

There weren’t any roses nearby, but Castiel could smell wildflowers still somehow hanging on in the cold. Quietly, he made his way into the dark to pick one, carefully selecting a bloom that had no crushed petals, wasn’t too close to wilting. A brief thought to Dean’s advice, and he removed his tie, opened an extra button on his shirt.

It felt a little ridiculous but when they got inside the car, and the interior light turned on, Sam’s eyes flickered down to the newly exposed skin.

Castiel held out the flower towards him.

Sam took it, hand soft and reverant, grin blooming on his face. “What’s this?”

“For you,” Castiel said. “You took me out, the least I could do is get flowers.”

Sam flushed, gently tucked the flower into one of the buttonholes in his shirt. “Thanks,” he said, so soft it was almost whispered.

They drove.

Sam was clearly exhausted by the time they got back to the bunker, yawning so wide his jaw cracked and then looking shame-faced. “Sorry,” he said.

“Hm,” Castiel said. “Maybe next time it could be one trip out per date, not a marathon.”

He cracked a grin at that. And, after all this time, it was nice to see an exhaustion that felt pleased. Satisfied, not just harrowed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Cas.”

“So.” Castiel paused at the corridor that lead towards the bedrooms, turned to face Sam. Wondered if he should be pushing this far. “There’s a proper way to end a good date, correct?”

Sam’s eyes flickered instantly to Castiel’s lips, which made him feel unaccountably pleased. “That’s ok, Cas,” he said, instead of leaning in. “That’s- that’s more for proper dates, not. This.”

So there was the line. Driving a total of nine hours across Kansas, carefully selected locations that he’d thought Cas would like, sitting shoulders pressed together on the hood of the car. Standing right up against it, but Sam had drawn a line, and this was it.

“This meant something to you,” Castiel said, stepping one foot over. “More than just doing something nice for me.”

“Cas,” Sam said, shaking his head, gaze down, self-deprecating smile. “You don’t have to-“

“I would like it,” Castiel interrupted, stepping closer, second foot over the line, and taking Sam’s hand, “If you let it mean something to me too.”

Sam’s eyes met his, expression disbelieving, almost scared. But he didn’t pull away, didn’t shift as Cas leaned closer. Not all the way. He was sure, he was so sure but- but if he was wrong.

He wasn’t wrong. Sam, breath unsteady, hand tightening around Castiel’s, closed the last of the distance. As kisses went it was gentle. Chaste. All too brief. As Sam drew back a noise of protest slipped out of Castiel’s throat involuntarily; he shifted with him. Sam’s free hand moved to his jaw, guided him into a second kiss, slower and deeper, and that, that was what Castiel wanted. He let his hand splay at Sam’s lower back, drew him in closer, opened his mouth so they could taste each other.

They broke apart eventually, Sam’s thumb stroking up and down the side of Castiel’s hand.

“So,” Castiel said, “Next time, I’m taking you out. Give me some time to plan it.”

Sam ducked his head, but not far enough Castiel couldn’t see his smile. “Ok.”

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said. “If that’s alright.”

Sam’s smile brightened, and leaned in to meet him.

#supernatual #sastiel #samcas #sam winchester #castiel #sastiel fic #samcas fic #my fic

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jawritter · 4 years ago

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Happy Halloween

Summary: It’s Daddy’s favorite holiday. So what’s a good girl gonna do, but let him blow off some steam after a successful hunt?

Warnings: Daddy kink, hair pulling, consensual name calling, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, spanking, light edging, orgasm control, language, rough sex, oral (male receiving), mouth fucking, hint of a pain kink maybe? I think that’s about it. This is just porn with a crack ass plot. I’m not sorry lol.

Word Count: 3092

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: You guys ask for some Daddy!Dean for Kinktober? Well, who can say no to that? This fic was beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Want more? Check out my Mastlist. Not enough? Become a Patreon, and make special request, as well as get access to exclusive fics, and one shots!

**MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

Dean had always been the aggressive sort. He didn’t take shit from very many people, and if you were one of those who he did take it from, you counted yourself as lucky. He’d even gone off on Sam more than once, and Sam could get away with more than most.

It was one of the side effects of dealing with the life that you all were thrust into when you were just children. Your father had been hunting partners with John for years, off and on, when you were children, so you had known the Winchesters for a very long time, long enough to know you did NOT push your luck with the eldest Winchester.

Even though Dean was always hard in a sense, there was a time when he wasn’t as hard as he is today. Back then, the hardest thing he had to do in his life was impress John Winchester, and that had been more challenging than any monster he’d ever faced.

Life was as simple then. A vamps nest, the occasional Djinn.You killed the monsters, you saved a few lives. That time was long gone for the both of you. John's death had opened up a whole new world of monsters, demons and dick angels. Things that you weren’t prepared for, and neither was Dean. Dean spent what was only four months to you, but was forty years to him in Hell. Literal Hell. Sam jumped in the cage with Lucifer. Life became a downward spiral that just went on and on, until you found yourselves here today.��

God had it in for you.The son of Lucifer was dressed as the Devil, courtesy of Dean’s twisted amusement, in the backseat of the Impala he’d deemed “Baby” years ago. You were on your way to a Halloween party that was expected to go south thanks to one of those rare simple vamps nest your unconventional group had been investigating.

“Dean, I don’t know about this,” Jack said, looking at his own reflection in the rearview mirror where he caught the look of Dean's amused gaze. The red paint on the boys face was a little much in your opinion, but hey, you weren’t in charge of this shitshow, so you decided to keep your trap fucking shut.

“It’s simple Jack,” Dean said.You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, and you were determined to look dead ahead of you, and not in the backseat where you would probably die laughing. “You go to the party, just stand back, watch, find a chick maybe. I don’t give a fuck, but just make sure that no vamp gets inside that fucking house until Y/N and I can take care of the mother fuckers. If one does show itself, lure it out to us, and we will take care of it.”

Dean made it sound so simple, and you could only imagine how nervous Jack was. He didn’t have the conventional upbringing of most people as it was. Technically, he wasn’t even 12 yet, he was just advanced because of his race, and somethings just didn’t come quite so naturally to Jack as Dean had thought that it should. That, or Dean just didn’t give a shit, because he was never really going to forgive him for Mary’s death. He just wasn’t.

“You will be fine Jack. Just keep a low profile, and watch out for vamps. Dean and I can take care of the rest,” you told him in what you hoped was an encouraging tone. “This will be a piece of cake, and we will be back at the hotel before you know it.”

Jack fell quiet as he looked at the landscape flying past the backseat window, and your eyes trailed Dean's still amused face as he drove down the farm road to the old ranch house the teenagers were attending for tonight's festivities.

Dean loved Halloween. It was one of the only holidays that he really did enjoy. Sam, on the other hand? Well, Sam hated it, and when Dean found this case, Sam decided to stay behind with Eileen while you, Dean, Jack took care of this small little case that was only three states over.

Dean had tried to convince you to dress up for the occasion, but quickly changed his mind when you told him that there was not a chance in hell you could hide a machete in the slutty nurse costume he’d picked out for you. That’s how the plan to dress Jack up , and place him in the party watching the party goers was born.

You and Dean had a history.That history had started when he’d taken your virginity when you were only 18 years old. Every time you got a chance after that, you found yourselves between the sheets, in the back seat, and against the walls of bars in dark alleyways. Dean had a “healthy appetite”, and even in his forties he still carried the stamina of a horny teenage boy. You weren’t complaining either.

Somewhere around thirty, he’d discovered his Dom fetish, and that literally fucking ruined all other men for you. You should have known Dean’s “take no shit” attitude would have translated over into the bedroom eventually. It was the one place he could have complete control, and the one place he could let off steam with someone he trusted.That someone was you.

Since tonight was his favorite holiday, you had decided when this small little hunt was over, Dean would get to see you in that slutty nurse costume he’d wanted you to wear so bad. After all, daddy always gets what he wants, and that’s why you had jumped up and suggested the kid get his own room.

You watched the sky turn dark as Dean speed towards the party and the hunt, your mind on just what Dean was going to say when he discovered you had kept the costume.

Three hours later, you found yourself standing in the hotel room that you and Dean would be sharing for the night, staring down at the nurse’s outfit on the bed before quickly sliding the towel that was covering your body to the floor, and picking up the costume. You only had a few minutes before Dean would be done with his shower, and he’d already ordered you to be in position when he returned to the room. He just didn’t know about the costume.

Dean was usually in a good mood after a good hunt, and this hunt was the first easy thing they’d done in a long time, so therefore Dean was in a very good mood.

You had just slipped the last strap over your shoulder, and got into the kneeling position on the bed that he required you to be in when waiting for him, when you heard the shower cut off, and the door to the bathroom open.

The room was dark.The only light that came into the room was coming from the bathroom and it flooded the small room as Dean rounded the corner to see his prize. Judging from the predatory growling sound he made when he saw you waiting for him, he was very pleased, but you knew better than to look up from your submissive stance and make eye contact without permission. Dean wasn’t going to take your shit, and you wanted to cum tonight. Slick already gathered itself between your spread thighs in anticipation of what was to come, and Dean hadn’t even laid a hand on you yet.

Dean’s eyes shamelessly raked over you as he made his way towards the bed.You could feel his piercing gaze, even though you couldn’t see it, and you waited with bated breath for Dean’s approval, which came in the form of the Dean’s rough thumb reaching out, and running across your red painted lips. You reached your tongue out and swept over the tip of his thumb, twirling it around this thick digit as if it were his cock before sucking it into your mouth, and letting it go with a pop.

Dean groaned at the sensation as he watched your lips around his thumb, and his dick twitched in interest as his eyes roamed the barely there costume that you were wearing for him.

“Such a good little slut, waiting for Daddy, all dressed up so pretty,” Dean said, his rough voice causing a shiver to visibly roll through your body, and land in your already aching cunt.

Dean chuckled at the reaction and he brushed his fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear to get a better view of your face. It was a move that was almost too intimate for what was to come, but it was his way of asking you if you trusted him and you did.You trusted Dean with your life.

When he noticed you lean into his touch, it was the only permission he seemed to need. That and the high adrenaline made him more impatient than what he would have normally been . His large hand fisted your hair almost painfully as he jerked your eyes up to meet his darkened gaze. His bare chest and body was on display for you, as his hard length twitched on its own from it’s proud position. A bead of precum was already forming at the tip, and you licked your lips as you watched it bob there. He needed this. He needed this just as much as you did tonight, and damn, you wanted to taste him so bad.

His eyes followed your gaze, and if you would have not forgone the underwear you were sure that the smirk he gave you would have melted them clean off your already overly heated body.

“What is it, sweetheart? Daddy’s little cock slut wants to have a taste before I ruin that pretty little pussy of yours tonight?”

The needy wine that left you lips wasn’t the answer Dean was looking for, so he gripped your hair impossibly tighter, and growled as he looked down at your form as you all but squirmed underneath him.

“Use your words. I want to hear you beg for it,’ Dean said, lowering his face so close to your own that his lips brushed yours with every word, and his whiskey kissed breath fanned warm over your skin.

“Please Daddy, please let me suck your cock, I’ll be a good girl, please let me taste you,” you begged him in a small voice that surprised even you. Dean’s mouth meet yours in a clash of lips, tongue and teeth that ended with his perfectly straight teeth sinking into your lower lips before he pulled away to soon, leaving you breathless and at his mercy, his grip still tight in your hair as he guided you to his impressive length before tapping your mouth with his swollen tip.

Reaching out with your tongue you lick softly at his dripping slit. The salty taste of his precome filled your mouth, and you moaned as he gave your hair a sharp jerk, sending the jolt from your scalp to your pussy, that was literally dripping down your leg onto the already stained bed sheets under you.

“No teasing, Bitch,” Dean spat, his teeth gritted against the shiver of anticipation that rolled through his own spine. “Hands behind your back, you know the rules. No touching yourself. I’m gonna fuck that filthy little mouth, and then I’m going to split open that pretty little cunt.”

As ordered, you opened your mouth and Dean pressed himself into your waiting lips. You sucked at him as he slowly pressed himself into your open mouth. Your tongue ran along the vein under this shaft as he adjusted to the feeling of your mouth around him, stopping when the tip touched the back of your throat with a grunt, his teeth biting into his own lip.

Your fingers dug into your palms as arousal coursed through your body with renewed fervor. Dean’s cock laying heavy on your tongue as you gulped in oxygen. You knew that would be the last easy breath until he was satisfied with your mouth as his eyes locked with your own.

“Eyes on me pretty girl,” he commanded as he started to thrust himself slowly in and out of your mouth. “I want to see the look on your face when you choke on my dick.”

Giving him a hard suck in response, Dean started to fuck your mouth with harsh thurst as you tired desperately to relax your throat and hollow out your checks to take all that he was giving you. Your cunt pulsed with every thrust of his hardness into your mouth, and it was all you could do to keep your hands behind your back, and not give yourself the relief you so desperately needed. The only balance you were able to maintain was on your knees, and Dean’s hand still pulled your hair tight as he fucked himself into your mouth over and over again.

You did all you could to keep your eyes on him as your throat contracted around his tip as it assaulted you over and over again. Tears were streaming down your face, and your lipstick was ruined as drool dripped from your mouth, but you dared not break eye contact with Dean.

He was beautiful when he lost control like this. His green eyes rolled in pleasure every so often. The vein he loved to let you bite showing in his throat as he strained to keep from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself. Taking my cock so good baby girl.”

You moaned desperately around his length at his praises and he shivered above you, his pace faltering as he pulled himself from your mouth just before he could fall over the edge.You gasped desperately for air as he let go of your hair, and you fell down to your hands and knees on the mattress and he positioned himself behind you.

A hard smack to your ass caused you to whimper as you felt him slide his thick cock through your slick, not entering you, just teasing your throbbing clit with his tip, his fingers leaving delicious little bruises as his large hands held you in place.

“Look at you,” he moaned as your warmth edged around him just enough to make him nearly lose it right there on the bed sheets. “So wet, so needy.” Another harsh smack to the other cheek made you jump and a scream left your lips as frustration and arousal created the needful ache between your legs. Dean’s slow thrusts against your clit pulled you to the edge, but never let you fall over. “What do you want? Tell me.Tell Daddy what you need.”

“Please Daddy, please, I need you, need your cock, please,” you begged him, and he moaned behind you as his hand ran up your back, over your barely there costume, and into your hair again, giving it a hard jerk as his tip breached you, waiting for heat. “Then take it, slut.”

That was all the warning you got before Dean was pounding you almost flat on your stomach, each thrust hitting your G-spot with mapped out precision.You were a screaming, moaning mess as he pounded you into oblivion.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean said, smacking your ass and never losing pace as each swat of his large hand made you moan, and your pussy spasm around his length. “You better not cum yet bitch! If you do, you know it will be the last time for a week. Do you understand?”

You moaned as you fought against the orgasm that had you shaking on the edge of delirium, and Dean gave your hair a hard pull, bring your back up to his chest, ripping your top down so that your tits flopped freely as he continued to pound into your ruined pussy, giving your exposed tits a harsh twist to get your attention. “Use your words Y/N, or I’m stopping, and I’ll finish myself off while you watch.”

You knew he’d do it. He’d done it before, and Dean didn’t take shit from you, or anyone else, and he wasn’t afraid to take care of himself, and leave you waiting.

“Yes Daddy, I understand,” you squealed as his fingers dug into your hips, his hand never letting go of your hair.

“Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy,” he said as he picked up pace, until his hips started to stutter after what felt like an eternity, your own body buzzing as the orgasm you’d been holding off was becoming almost painful.

“Touch yourself baby, I want to feel you come on my cock,” Dean said, his voice strained as he raced to his own end.

Your hand traveled down your still costume clad body, and to your swollen aching clit, matching his pace in rough circles.

It didn’t even take a full minute before your pussy clamped down around his pulsing cock, and your orgasm rocketed through your body as he spilled deep inside of you. Dean pulled you both up as your bodies seized around one another, until he was able to remove his softening length from your body, and lay you gently down on the bed.

Your body was still quaking slightly when you finally came back to yourself, as Dean cleaned the mess up between your legs before helping you out of your costume in silence. You watched as Dean crawled over you body, and pressed a sweet kiss to your swollen lips before cleaning the lipstick off your face.

“You okay?” he asked as your eyes met his. There was your Dean again, always worried, always concerned for someone else above himself. Even in this aspect of your relationship, he was always the nurturer that you had fallen in love with under that rough exterior so long ago.

“I’m good Dean,” you tell him as his lips pecked at your own again, and he lay down next to you to pull your exhausted body against his own, tucking the covers in around you.

Maybe one day you’d tell each other you loved each other, but not today, for now this would be enough.

“Happy Halloween Daddy,” you told him, feeling him chuckle behind you, before his teeth bit playfully into your shoulder, leaving his mark on your skin.

“Happy Halloween Baby Girl.”

Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @rain-dance-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6

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huntertales · 4 years ago

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What Should We Name Him?

Summary: Three years after gaining control of his own destiny, Dean Winchester discovers a puppy abandoned on the side of the road. What should he do? Take it home to his wife and children, of course. Painting: Dean Winchester x Reader (Series Rewrite Setting) Word Count: 2,137. Warning: Possible spoilers for 15.19! (???)

This might be my little take on what life would be like after the show “ended.” (Plus I believe this is how that scene should have ended.) I wrote this out of whim, so it's not perfect. But there’s a whole lot of fluff because we need it right now. Enjoy!

Dean loves the high he gets after finishing up a hunt. He spent three days in Missouri due to a nasty vampire nest Sam was trying to take down with Eileen that got out of control and required some backup. His brother and fiancée decided to stick around to clean up, letting Dean slip back to the bunker and to his own awaiting family back in Kansas.

The Impala drives down the empty road he’s taken thousands of times that always leads him back home. His favorite tunes play as he enjoys the feeling of the wind rushing through the open windows all by himself. Today is perfect weather with the sun shining bright in the blue sky, not a single cloud in sight. No little kids trying to touch the buttons to the radio or asking what the strange rectangular object is after they went snooping around underneath the seats searching for a toy they dropped. It was just Dean and Baby, just like the good old times. The only thing missing was his wife and little brother in their respective seats singing along.

Dean finishes out the classic rock song by softly slapping his hands along with the rhythm of the drums. The music gets shut off for a brief moment when he spots the gas station he always stops by to fill up the Impala. He continues on with his routine of getting gas and thinking about what to get inside. Maybe some candy for the twins when you told them about how well they did on their spelling test. Hell, he might even pick up a six pack to celebrate the successful hunt.

He stopped drinking heavily as he had in the past. And the hunts he participated in slowly dropped to only a few times a month. Dean’s lifestyle changed dramatically when Chuck was kicked out of the picture. It allowed Dean to breathe and step back at the life he was finally able to control. The man wasn’t getting any younger and his kids were growing up fast. He wanted to be a good father, best that he could be. Which meant not having the twins creating memories of him nursing a beer at ten in the morning. And forcing himself to let Sam do more of the cooking and incorporating some greens into his meals.

Dean wanted to live long enough to see his babies grow up—see what they were going to do with their lives. Make decisions their parents were never allowed to. Dean’s entire life someone has been telling him what to do, writing down what to say. Not anymore. For the first time ever the curse was broken and he was able to do what he wanted. And he wanted to be a better man. He wanted to grow old with his wife and raise his children right. Watch his baby brother walk down the aisle with Eileen. Have some quality time with his friends and live his own life, damnit. And he was.

Dean checked his phone while filling up Baby to see you responded back to his text about heading back from the hunt. Like always, you warned him about making it back safe and signed off with a quick ‘love you ❤” that never ceased to make his own heart beat faster. He smiled to himself and shoved his phone into his back pocket once again. If there was one thing in this world that he knew, it was his love for you was tried and true. Your love was not a story that could be written or broken up. No one or nothing would be able to take that away from him.

After doing his normal routine and fetching a few snakes for the short ride home, Dean decided to make one more stop to the bathroom when he spotted the sign on his way back to the Impala. That's when he hears it—a whimper. The noise caught him off guard as his hand lingered over the doorknob. A few seconds passed before he heard it again. Dean stepped away and tried to figure out where the noise came from. He followed it until he came across something that made him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, buddy.” Dean ever so softly greets the puppy that is hiding in a cardboard box that has seen better days. Someone might have confused it with the rest of the trash next to the dumpster. Inside was a puppy that had to be only weeks old with old sheets. Dean dropped down to a crouch to carefully inspect the puppy for any possible tags indicating an order. His lips stretched into a frown when there was none. “Someone’s gotta be missing you, right?”

Dean knew he couldn't leave the poor dog on the side of the road. He always had a strict rule of never letting any non-humans into his car. The guilt would eat him inside if he let the poor dog remain abandoned. Dean picked up the box and carefully set it inside the backseat. He decided to make one more pitstop before heading home.

***

One stop ended up turning into two. The vet told him there had been no reports of a missing German Shepherd puppy recently reported. Which meant someone had abandoned the dog at the gas station in hopes someone might find him. Dean could have left it at that and headed home. But he kept staring at the dog. It reminded him of something that happened a few years ago. For some reason he wasn't able to part with the dog. He needed to be sure the mutt got a good home. The decision led to him making another stop—to the pet store.

The vet cleared the dog of any possible or diseases until the next check up. Dean splurged on the new addition to the family; puppy food the vet recommended, a dog bed, toys, anything the mutt might need. And most importantly a collar and leash. He got himself prepared with anything the dog might need. The amount of money he spent that day reminded him of the times he prepared for the birth of the twins. Expensive. But well worth it in the end. He couldn’t wait to see their faces.

***

“We’re home!”

Dean found his family where he normally did after coming home from a hunt; the twins in the library doing their homework while you and Cas kept tabs on the network of hunters across the states. You quickly looked up when you heard his voice echo through the bunker. An expression of pure relief crossed your face when you realized he was all right. You opened your mouth to ask him what took so long, but you found yourself with more questions than answers when you saw what he was holding. And the small creature at his side.

“Daddy!” The twins wasted no time dropping their pencils and jumping out of their seats to greet their father. Dean dropped the bags to the floor and crouched down to be attacked by two six-year olds with tight hugs. He embraced the both of them and gave out forehead kisses.

“Monkeys! I’ve missed you!” He greeted his children with the same amount of enthusiasm like always. “Were you two good for Mommy and Uncle Cas?” The twins nodded their head a little too eagerly.

“Dean,” You got up from your seat and headed over to your husband who had failed to yet mention the extra companion he brought home. You pointed a finger to the puppy sitting next to him. “What is that?”

“A dog.” He said a little too casually.

You rolled your eyes at the obvious response and tried again when he stood back up. “What is it doing here?”

“I found him on the side of the road.” Dean explained. “I couldn’t leave the little guy there so I brought him home.”

“Can we keep him? Please?”

“Please? Pretty please?”

“I promise I’ll walk him—”

“And I’ll feed him—”

“Okay! Okay.” You quickly stopped the twins from chattering your ear off at the possibility of adding another member to the family. You let out a quiet sigh when they wasted no effort in warming up to the dog. He was friendly enough, giving out licks and happy barks. You thought about this for a moment. “Maybe we can look after him for a little while. See if anyone lost this poor baby.”

You had to be honest, seeing the little guy made your heart swell in delight. It was always a dream of yours to own a pet. But the life you lead made it impossible. A lot of things seemed like that. Until a few years ago when it all changed for the better. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that Dean would be on board with another member of the family. Especially a furry four-legged creature.

“The vet told me no one reported any missing dogs. My bet someone abandoned him.” Dean said. Your expression quickly flashed into anger at the news at someone’s abusive and reckless behavior on a poor and defenseless creature. “I say...their loss. Our gain.”

“Wait, what?” You sounded surprised at his reaction. “Are you suggesting we keep him?”

“Why not? He’s updated on all his shots and the vet ran a whole bunch of tests. This little guy needs a good home.” Dean said. He smiled to himself at the sight of Mariella and Robert playing with the dog. Their smiles were too pure. They’d be heartbroken if Dean denied them an opportunity to have a pet. “Looks like he’s already part of the family.”

You can't help yourself when you make your way over to the dog and greet him with pets and ear scratches. You remind the twins to be careful when they take note of the puppy's floppy ears. The three of you look so happy in the moment. He couldn't wait to see Sam's reaction when he got home. He always secretly wanted a dog as his own. Today that dream was going to come true.

“What should we name the little guy?” You asked.

The twins thought about it for a moment before a round of names only a child could think of were shot off left and right, too fast for either you or Dean to keep up on. You let out a faint sigh when the discussion quickly turned into a fight about which name was better. Dean was quick to defuse the situation before it could end in tears.

“How about...” Dean crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind the ear like he seemed to enjoy. He examined the mutt for a second before the perfect name popped into his head. “Zeppelin?”

“Zeppelin?” You repeated the name, your tone the least be enthusiastic about the reference he subtly passed by you. “Are you seri—”

“Zeppelin!” Mariella shouted the name with excitement. To her it was odd and unique, something a six year old thought was perfect. “I like it, Daddy!”

“Me too!” Robert agreed.

Dean smiled to himself when you playfully rolled your eyes. Zeppelin decided to explore the bunker, his new home, with curious but cautious steps. He made his way over to the angel and started sniffing him out.

“Hello, there.” Cas greeted the puppy. He offered his hand for the dog to sniff to try and get to know him better. “You are certainly adorable. And a perfect addition to the family. German Shepherds are known to be a perfect guard dog. They are loyal and smart. Very strong."

“Sort of like you.” You softly nudged Dean with your elbow.

“Then it’s settled.” Dean said. “Zeppelin’s here to stay.”

Dean never really did like dogs. He always complained they shedded too much, barked at the smallest things and required too much attention. His opinion changed ever so slightly after taking a hunt with a German Shepherd that required him to meld minds with the animal. His opinion softened, but the lifestyle he led made it impossible up until this point in his life. But seeing this poor fella abandoned on the side of the road, the exact same way he did when all hope felt lost? He couldn’t turn his back on the dog. There was still an ounce of happiness left in him that blossomed back up.

This little guy reminded him that he was in control of his life. There was no one who was going to take Zeppelin away. Or you. Or the twins. Or Sam and his family. And most importantly, Cas. It was funny how dogs could bring out the best in people and reminded them small miracles existed. Maybe dogs weren’t so bad after all.

#supernatural #reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural x reader #spn #spn imagine #spn fanfic #spn reader insert #spn x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #mine #is this stupid? yes #is this kinda sorta poorly written? also yes #do i care? not at all

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 4 years ago

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When We Were Young (Part II)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

You slammed the door behind you, slipping down it’s smooth surface allowing the tears to fall. What is wrong with me? Not only had you completely embarrassed yourself in front of Dean, but you yelled in his face. He had to be furious with you. You’d be lucky if he spoke to you again.

Minutes passed with you continuing to spiral, your head banging softly against the wooden door of it’s own accord. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. The rhythm was soothing, and you felt your eyelids start to droop when you heard and felt a different type of knocking, more anxious. More aggressive. You tensed thinking it was Dean. You couldn’t face him yet.

“Y/N?” You heard softly through the door. Sam. Of course. You didn’t answer, but you stopped the rhythmic slamming of your own head against the door.

You heard a soft sign and a thud as Sam must have placed his forehead against the door.

“Y/N, please. Dean said you hurt your hand... let me help.” You paused, your hands pressed flat on the cold tile floor. Hurt your hand?

Looking down you gasped seeing the angry red blisters forming on your right hand, and suddenly, as if a switch were flipped, you felt the pain of the grease burning your hand and you cried out sharply, grasping the injured hand to your chest. You felt the tears streaming down your face again, as you sobbed loudly, your hand throbbing with pain.

“Y/N!” Sam was shouting now, hearing you cry on the other side of the door. You couldn’t move afraid of the sharp pain you felt moments ago, but you were also afraid of Sam breaking down the door with you leaning against it, his pounding fists growing louder. You scooted slowly away from the door on your butt until you felt the soft side of your mattress. Leaning against it you let out another cry more out of frustration for the situation you put yourself in then the pain of your hand. In that moment you needed someone there with you, but couldn’t ask for it as you continued to spiral into your own mind. You clenched your injured fist tightly letting out another cry of pain.

Luckily, it was Sam at your door and not Dean, so he simply picked the lock and entered moments after your mind shut itself down and you lay limp on the cool tile. You heard the door open with a creak, and felt the draft as Sam rushed in, kneeling down next to you and wasting no time, grabbing your injured hand in his. You looked up at him with blank eyes, barely seeing him.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Sam muttered, as he unballed your injured fist slowly and began applying a cool cream to the raised blisters that instantly soothed your hand. You were beginning to recognize where you were again, and let out a quiet sob, gaining Sam’s attention. He was carefully checking over your hand moving it this way and that in the light to make sure he covered all of the blisters with the burn cream. But his eyes didn’t stay on your hand the entire time. From his position, you could see he was glancing back toward the door. Glancing back at someone. It dawned on you all at once.

“Don’t let Dean see me!” You called out, not able to control the volume of your voice. You hadn’t meant for it to come out quite as offensive as it did, but clearly Dean heard you loud and clear, slamming your door behind him. Sam looked at you, grimacing when the door slammed loudly.

“I hadn’t meant it like that.” You whispered aloud continuing to beat yourself up over the entire situation.

“I know,” Sam breathed out. “Let’s get you up in bed and I’ll wrap your hand.”

You nodded, and felt Sam’s arm snake around your shoulders and help you to a sitting position, then up to your feet. You were shaky, but held yourself up while Sam pulled back your sheet and comforter. You slipped under them, and Sam sat on the edge of your bed wrapping your hand with soft gauze. When he was finished, you thanked Sam quietly, and he ran a hand gently through your hair, tucking it behind your ear, before leaving your room and closing the door softly behind him. You didn’t sleep that night.

—————————————————-

Since that morning, Dean hadn’t met your eye level and never tried to touch you again. You didn’t blame him, but you missed just friendly hugs or the way he would softly ruffle your hair as he passed on his way to the garage or something. And you missed looking into his bright green eyes each morning and being awarded with a Dean Winchester smile. You didn’t know what to say to him, or how to tell him you were sorry, without it developing into a conversation you didn’t want to have. So you kept quiet, and went about your life. The bunker was quiet as the boys did the same and when they went on a hunt, leaving you behind at your request, the bunker was deafening, with only your demons in the closet to keep you company.

As the weeks went by, you began to spiral even more. Every sound the bunker made, which you thought you had gotten used to months ago, had you cowering or hiding in your room. You hadn’t ever dealt with your past, and living alone for all those years was what you were used to. The nightmares only got worse. In every one you were trapped in the same room, in the same dark closet, with the same people over and over again. And it never ended. Every time you closed your eyes, it was like watching an old VHS. It would start from where you jolted awake the night before.

Which was exactly what just happened. You shot upright in bed with a short scream that you cut off quickly, straining your ears to make sure you hadn’t woken the boys. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table you saw it was barely 1:30am, but you knew you wouldn’t allow yourself to go back to sleep. Not when the same situation was waiting for you behind closed eyes. With a heavy sigh you lifted yourself off of the bed, resigning to a night of research. Sam needed some help with some of the symbols they had found deep in the bunker last week anyway.

You creaked open your door as soundlessly as you could, and stepped out into the cold hallway. The air let out a soft groan and you squeaked, mentally kicking yourself to shut up, as you were right outside of Dean’s room and the door was cracked. You slapped a hand quickly over your mouth hoping he didn’t hear you when you heard the springs in his bed creak and you sighed, hearing his footsteps coming toward you.

“Y/N?” He asked, peeking his head out of the door his hair looking adorably sleep mussed. You smiled to yourself, and Dean smiled back for the first time in weeks. Your knees went a little weak, and you realized he was asking you a question.

“Uh, hey,” you awkwardly replied, shuffling your feet a little, unsure where this conversation was heading, but figured you’d be honest for once. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was going to go see if I could get anywhere with those ancient symbols for Sam.” Dean let out an “ah” sound in reply, and you shrugged your shoulders, beginning to walk away, when you saw Dean reach for you out of the corner of your eye, but he held back. Feeling guilty, you stopped and turned toward him.

“Uh, listen. Can we talk for a sec?” He looked nervous as he asked, but once the words were out he looked you in the eye, both resolute and unwavering, telling you there wasn’t much choice. You nodded and he gestured to let you into his room.

Dean’s room was warmer than yours, more homey, and you inhaled leather and whiskey right off. You missed being in his room. After your moment, you hadn’t been invited for movie night with him anymore. You understood, but being in here made you think of his booming laughter echoing off the walls and the sound of candy being shaken into eager hands. It reminded you of childhood with your best friend. The thought made you tear up, but Dean cleared his throat and you choked back the tears turning back toward him.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you?” He looked uncomfortable again and you shrugged your shoulders in response, feigning ignorance to what he was talking about. Dean sighed in his typical ‘no nonsense’ way, and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Don’t do that.” He sounded exhausted and you felt a bit guilty in that moment thinking you had also kept Dean up just as much as you kept yourself up. “I know you better than anyone, baby. I always have. Just tell me what’s going on.” You had been looking down at the floor, but looked into his eyes when he used his nickname for you. You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Dean.

You took a deep breath, ready to sweep this whole situation under the rug and get back to normal life, normal Dean, normal Sam. Normal Y/N.

“Honestly, Dean,” you had a smile lightly plastered to your face and hoped it was convincing, at least in the dim lighting. “Nothings going on. I think all of the hunting has just been getting to me, and I started having some nightmares. The morning a couple weeks ago was nothing, you just caught me off guard. It’s not a big deal.” You decided to tell him like an eighth of the truth, and hope it worked, but you could tell by the way he flared his nostrils that he knew you were lying.

“You think I don’t notice, Y/N, but I do. I see the way you flinch at small sounds, or when Sam brushes against you without you knowing it. It’s like you’re afraid of your own shadow lately. And you think no one hears you at night, but we hear when you have nightmares and the things you scream...” He trailed off looking uncomfortable for the millionth time tonight and you were starting to lose patience that he wouldn’t just drop the situation. But what he had said was beginning to stick in your mind.

“What I scream? What are you talking about?” You had been certain that every time you woke up from a nightmare you cut the scream off instantly. Certain that you weren’t waking the boys. Had you been wrong?

Dean looked like he regretted saying anything, but he looked deep in your eyes, letting you know he was telling the truth. “You scream out for someone to stop... begging ‘no’ and ‘not again.’ Y/N... It sounds like someone is or has been abusing you. Over and over...” He finished and looked straight into your eyes, like Sam did when he was younger, trying to read you. But you were determined for him not to see how much truth there was to his words.

“Uh, look, I’m feeling really tired. I think I’ll try to sleep again,” you were slowly backing up toward the door, attempting to remove yourself from this conversation. But as you turned to leave, Dean grabbed your arm, and you ripped it back fear coursing through you.

“Stop!” You screamed. Even though you knew you weren’t in danger with Dean, something about being touched when you’re unprepared sends you into fight or flight. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N!” Dean yelled back, making you shrink away. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!” His voice was raising as he was coming toward you and you ripped open his door scurrying into the hall and crashing into what felt like a brick wall. You realized it was Sam and backed further away, feeling trapped in a situation you wanted nothing to do with. Dean had followed you into the hallway and with both Winchesters blocking the exits, you had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Trapped.

Read part III here!

#SUPERNATURAL SPOILERS #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #SUPERNATURAL GIFS #supernatural #spn fanfiction #SPN gif #SPN #spn famdom #SPN Family #fanfiction #fanfic #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #Sam Winchester #dean winchester

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manawhaat · 5 years ago

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Howl

Title: Howl

Characters: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader, previous Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Jody Mills.

Summary: After spending twelve-hundred years in hell, John Winchester is spit out and lands on The Bunker’s doorstep while you’re away on a case. Sam and Dean insist you stay away until they can help him let go of the Alpha inside him and become human again. But when the bunker unexpectedly locks down the day you return home, you find yourself trapped inside with an Alpha who’s more monster than man.

Prompts: (This fic covers 3 challenges.)

@flamencodiva 1700 challenge - “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

@firefly-in-darkness summer-challenge - Limerence – the state of being infatuated with another person

@wi-deangirl77 Supernatural Schitt Challenge - “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.”

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, slight angst, dub-con, fear kink, scent kink, blood/minor blood play, hunter/prey dynamics, extreme pining, heat sickness, allusions to stalking, creepy!John, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, biting/scratching, claiming/knotting, breeding kink, true mates, cum play.

Word Count: 7.3k (not even a little bit sorry)

A/N: Huge, huge, HUGE thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis for helping me make this what it is. You seriously elevate every single story you touch. Hell, you elevate EVERYTHING you touch! @sebbytrash and @sherrybaby14 also did kickass jobs betaing. I had a rough idea about this for a bit before I started to develop it and as soon as I started actually writing, I ended up signing up for a couple challenges, so this fic kills three challenges with one alpha. I liked a lot of quotes in Vanessa’s challenge so there’s actually 4 of them in here even though I only signed up for the one.

Lemme know if you like it, and maybe support my writing❤️❤️

“What do you mean John is back?”

Jody stops in her tracks and her face is a mirror image of yours, so you switch Sam to speaker and hold the phone between you and her.

“He’s back, Y/n.” Sam sighs, voice strained with exhaustion and confusion. “It’s him. He’s not missing a soul or anything but, uhh, he’s… different.”

“Different how?” A million things are running through your brain and you can only imagine what the boys must be thinking.

Shuffling fills your ear, quickly followed by the heavy creak of the bunker’s front door. His voice is quiet when he answers. “He was down there for a long time. It’s like it warped him. He’s-” Sam pauses, searching for the right word before landing on- “feral.”

Jody’s eyebrows shoot up and she clarifies, “Feral?”

Sam huffs. “Yeah. I mean, he’s only been back for a couple of days but the more we watch him and talk to him it’s like he’s more Alpha than human. Jody, I know you guys wrapped up your case but would it be okay if Y/n stayed with you for a bit?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you scoff. “I dealt with your soulless ass and Dean as an actual fucking demon. I can handle a little more testosterone than normal.”

“No.” The voice belongs to Dean. “I’m serious, Y/n. This isn’t like me or Sam in a rut. He was down there for twelve-hundred years. He’s stronger than before he went down there and he’s not himself. Hell really did a number on him. There are some serious red flags here, sweetheart. He’s dangerous, and if something were to happen I’m not sure that we’d be able to protect you.”

“Jesus” Jody breathes.

The length of time put into words makes your stomach churn. The idea of anyone, anything spending so long in hell only to resurface is more than enough to send shivers up your spine.

“We’re not trying to get rid of you. We just need some time to figure things out. He’s barely-” Sam’s voice cracks- “he’s barely human, Y/n. Just give us enough time to make sure you’ll be safe around him, okay?”

Your eyes meet Jody’s and she shoots you a look that says you should listen to them. Making the guys go through this alone fucking sucks, but you trust them. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep my distance. But please keep me updated and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Sam and Dean sigh in relief. “We will. Thanks, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.”

The guys keep you up to date and a little over a month has passed when you start to feel you’ve overstayed your welcome at Jody’s. You all decide it's time for you to come home and you’re off the following morning.

The drive is long but pleasant and the sight of the bunker looming in the distance is a comfort as you draw near. The iron door swings open and your friends emerge with smiles on their faces, waiting for you to park and get out before crowding you at once.

As they approach, you pick something on the breeze that you’ve never smelled before. Sam pulls you in and the warm spice wafting in the air makes you press your body into his, a little too close, too intimately. He rumbles out a laugh and you just purr in response, letting him feel the heave of your chest against his. It’s only when Dean practically peels you away from his brother that you let yourself moan into Dean’s neck, running your fingers through the back of his hair to pull him closer and get a better whiff.

“God, you guys smell so fucking good,” you admit.

Sam’s brows furrow and he asks if you’re due for a heat.

“Nope. I’ve been taking my pills… Maybe I just missed you guys!” You wink and Dean squeezes your sides, but you playfully slap him away with a broad smile. “Actually, the gift you want is in the trunk. Let me take this stuff in and I’ll come back and help you with the rest,” you promise. “Oh, and where’s John?”

“Went for a walk. He’ll be back in a bit and we’ll introduce you then.”

They rush off to your car while you head inside. The creaky slam behind you is followed by the alarmingly loud clacks and clunks of multiple locks setting into place, the sounds enough to set you on high alert. The lights don’t kick off, so you’re sure the bunker isn’t in full lock down, but before you can investigate the locked door you’re suddenly struck with the scent that you smelled on them outside, It sends a cramp through your belly and you take a deep breath to combat it, almost tasting the air until you’re interrupted when your phone rings. Dean’s face pops up on your screen and you answer the call to hear his voice, light and playful.

“Hey, what the hell? Open up. I know you’re excited to be home, but c’mon. We live here too,” Dean says, half laughing.

When you try the handle, it’s stuck in place. “It’s locked from the inside. I didn’t even touch it.”

“Son of a bitch.”

You stay on the line with him while they try their key from the outside. It doesn’t work and when they point you to the manual lever along the wall, it doesn’t budge. You can’t find any external locks to try on your side so you head down to the war room to try the mechanical system override.

A wave of dizziness washes over you when your foot hits the bunker floor off the bottom of the staircase, but you steel yourself and search the room for what you’re looking for. As if fate is against you, the search is aborted by the wash of a fever flooding your body.

It only takes a minute or two, but emotions and hormones slam through you at an alarming rate. Your heart and brain race as your body temperature kicks up a few degrees.

No, no, no. I’m taking suppressants. This can’t be happening. How is this happening so fast?

Sam and Dean are audibly yelling outside and through your phone, bickering about how to get into the bunker and that they should have known you’d go into heat upon returning to the smell of them. But their worried voices are muffled by a fog that comes over you, and somewhere in the bunker there’s a low growl that has your ears perking up. The sound is so faint you’re not sure it’s even real, until it comes again.

Your blood runs cold and you grip the phone tight in your hand, eyes wide as you look into the dark expanse of the bunker. “Guys… I think I just heard something.”

Their efforts to break down the front door stop cold. “What did you hear?”

Just then, the growl comes again and sends shivers up your spine. It’s the voice of a predator somewhere in the depths of the bunker you’re trapped in.

“I- I don’t think I’m alone in here.”

The fever and pain in your lower belly spike again and you’re almost crippled by the scent in the air. It’s faint but your body would know it anywhere, and before you can think about it you’re thrust into a strong and sudden heat that has you boiling and worried. Fresh slick gushes through your core, leaking into your underwear as you moan lewdly, clinging to the wall for support.

“Oh, fuck. Alpha!”

The phone remains loosely held in your grip but it’s dropped to your side as you rush through the halls, completely oblivious to Dean calling your name and warning you to stay where you are.

Every step you take has your body buzzing harder and harder. The sounds have stopped but the scent is getting stronger. Your mouth is dry with need and your body is almost reaching its peak just on the pulse of sheer power you’re being drawn in by.

The door to the dungeon is in front of you when your feet finally stop. Part of you registers that you’ve moved through the entire bunker in a matter of seconds, and wants you to stop and think about that for a minute, but the energy surging through your blood urges you to reach out and open the door.

“Don’t open that door!”

The voice booms through your skull, echoes off the bunker walls, shocks you, and fills your body with cold dread. Flinching back in surprise, your back hits the wall and you suddenly remember Dean on the phone. He’s rambling, but you cut him off with worry and lust fighting for dominance in your heart.

“Dean, I can feel him,” you admit, not even realizing it until after the words have echoed back at you in Dean’s voice.

“Don’t go in that room,” he warns. Commands. Your inner omega should be cowering. That’s twice you’ve been told and yet your body is quickly starting to think those words are more of a dare than a warning.

“It’s him, isn’t it? It’s John.”

A groan slithers through the cracks of the door at the sound of his name on your tongue and you know you’re right.

“He must have gotten back without us noticing. He’s dangerous, Y/n. Do not go into that room. Come back and help us find a way to get you outta there before you get hurt!”

You register the guys talking to you, yelling at you, warning you and begging you, but your body is moving on its own accord.

“Omega, stop!” John barks at you from the dungeon and you whine with need, sinking to your knees and taking in shaky breaths.

Sam’s voice catches your attention and you hear him in the middle of his sentence. “...away from there. Go to your room, take another suppressant and use your toys to calm down. Please don’t argue. If you’re going into heat then you need to leave right now. You aren’t safe there.”

Picking yourself up off the ground, you shake your head and try to break the spell. They’ve kept you away for a reason and if the guys are this worried, you should probably try to listen to them. Four steps is all you manage to take before the pain in your lower belly becomes too much and you slump against the wall. Now that you’ve been this close to the caged alpha, your body won’t let you leave.

“Guys,” you pant, sucking in ragged breaths to steel yourself from the pain. You take another two steps and collapse, screaming in agony as your nerves shred themselves, ripping themselves apart trying to escape your body and get closer to John.

Chains rattle, metal scrapes in the dungeon, and the snarls that burst from John’s chest have Sam and Dean calling for you through the phone. You grip it tight, crawl back down the hall, and sigh in relief as you give your body what it wants and the pain eases. When you settle against the wall across the hallway, the distressed sounds behind the dungeon door calm.

“I can’t.”

Hot tears prick at your eyes as you stare at that door in horror and need. You’ve hated being a weak omega with little to no say over your own life since the day you presented, and now what little control you’ve managed to find (with the help of the brothers) is slipping through your fingers. You don’t want this, but you are completely and utterly unable to deny it.

“I can’t leave. I need him.”

Soft sobs are the last thing the boys hear tumble from your mouth before you hang up and toss the phone away.

If you can’t leave, you’re gonna stay and do everything you can to listen to the men in your life. So you tear open your jeans and stuff your hands inside, desperate to quell the throbbing between your legs and gain back some semblance of control over your body.

On instinct, your mind goes to Dean. He’s been exactly who you needed him to be and he’s never let you down. Every touch serves a purpose, and his skill always afforded you the luxury of being in expert hands. But here and now, the more you think about him, the less you can remember; not the feel of his fingers inside you, let alone the taste of his tongue or girth of his knot when it’s locked you together.

A cry of Dean’s name fills the air, as if calling out to him will magically bring him to you. Will restore the memory and give you the headway you need. But Dean’s pushed out of your mind and before you realize, the images that fill your brain are of the man behind the door. Photos you’ve seen in passing over the years in Sam and Dean’s rooms and journals. The memories are a little fuzzy, but you have enough of the mental image to piece him together. Broad shoulders, thick neck, long legs, and strong hands.

Choking on desire, you’re frozen still and silent, pussy fluttering wetly around two fingers. An angry rattle of chains meets your ears on the other side of the door and you push your fingers through your folds for him, for the alpha you’ve yet to meet. The stranger that’s sent you tumbling down into this overwhelming heat.

“I can smell what you’re doin’ sweetheart,” he says through the door, and you hear him inhale long and slow; you know that he’s savoring the smell of your dripping cunt.

It’s enough to have you kicking off your pants and tearing off your shirt. The air around you is sweltering and your clothes are already soaked with sweat and slick. Your panties are wet against the back of your hand as you fuck yourself dizzy, try desperately to run from that pain and the overwhelming inevitable that’s flaring in your blood the longer you sit outside the dungeon.

Unbearable pain vibrates through your cells as you reach an almost orgasm. Everything is a blur and your tongue is heavy and dry in your mouth. You’re slowly suffocating and going blind, burning and dying. Heat sickness has always been a myth in your mind, but now you’re feeling it and you cry out in fear and frustration, worried that this might just be how you die. As if he can hear your thoughts, as if he can feel you growing weaker with every passing minute, your alpha rages and a roar booms through the bunker. It’s not anger or lust, but fear, and it matches your own.

You muster your strength and bravery, crawl across the hall and finally push open the dungeon door. Heat spills from the room and it’s musty with the pheromones he’s putting in the air, the sweat on his skin, and the need in his blood.

Wrenching back the shelves, you meet John Winchester face to face for the first time. He’s sitting in the middle of the dungeon in jeans and a flannel shirt. It’s buttoned over a black t-shirt and his sleeves are rolled enough for you to see the raised veins on his forearms. Chains and rope surround his body, strapping him tightly to the iron chair in the center of the room.

As you step closer, your initial analysis of his bindings is wrong. The padlock is near his right hand, the knots of rope at his hands are sloppy, and the chains on his upper body give him enough room to move a little against them. The only one that’s really secure is the padlocked chain collar around his neck.

“Like my handiwork?” he asks as you eye him. “Tied the knots and wrapped these chains, myself… but these won’t hold. I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t be able to stop when I get out. And I will get out.”

John shifts against the bindings as you step closer, bares his teeth to reveal elongated canines that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The veins in his neck are clear and visible, blood pumping through them hard and fast, and his teeth bite into his lower lip when you step into the devil’s trap.

Drops of blood spill out of his mouth and a shudder wracks through you- he’s hurting himself in his effort to stay still- but you can’t control yourself. You’re too far gone now that you’re this close.

“I need you, John. Need your knot. Need you inside me. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The words are the first you’ve spoken to him and they surprise you both. John hardens himself, slams his eyes shut and strains in this seat, holding himself as far away from you as possible until you rip your underwear off your body as a show of your desperation.

The scent of your soaked pussy makes his blood boil and a roar builds deep in his chest to explode out of his mouth. His body writhes with the force of it but in a flash the powerful sound turns into a menacing cackle. Wild eyes widen up at you and his blood-stained teeth have your full attention when his tongue tracks over them.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re gonna taste so good.” His hands grip at the arms of the chair, thick, sharp claws dig into the wood enough for it to splinter. “I’m gonna tear you apart,” he laughs, full bodied, crows feet at his eyes, mouth split wide open on his face.

Part of you doesn’t want to believe him. There’s a throb in your core that calls out for him, that yearns to feel his lips and skin against yours. Slick pools between your legs and John sucks in a long, harsh, deep breath, pupils expanding as he savors your scent.

“You think this is a game, baby girl?” Your pussy flutters at his words, even as his demeanor darkens further. “You’re gonna bleed, just like all those people on my rack in hell. Gonna sink my claws into you, see where you rip and where you hold up, see how hard I have to bite to get you to beg me to stop. Gonna break your bones and give it to you harder when that little omega pussy is busted open and bleeding around me. Stick around, send me into this rut and you’ll be wishing you never set foot in this bunker. That’s a fuckin’ promise.”

The thought of being torn apart is that of nightmares. Dean had rough ruts after hell, but he was right: John is dangerous. Every rational thought in your brain is telling you to run, to find a way back to Dean, but there’s an electricity in the air that tugs your ions closer to his.

His eyes are dark and stormy, the muddy wash bordering on red, and salt and pepper spread through his dark hair and the beard clinging to his strong jaw. Tentatively, your hands reach out for him and he hisses, jumps at you with dripping teeth and dark eyes, guttural sounds tearing from his throat as he struggles to get to you.

In an effort to sate your heat and keep your distance, a dizzying compromise lands at your feet. If you can take what you need from him, you might be able to gain the higher ground. If you give your heat what it wants fast enough, you can outrun him and gain control of your body again. Only half of your heart believes it, but you can’t stop yourself from easing into his lap to test the theory.

Heat sears your crotch where you grind down onto him, rolls off of him in waves that leave you in a cold sweat. “Will you come to my funeral, John? Will you watch me burn to a pile of ash on a shitty pyre? Because you’re gonna have to if I don’t do this… if you don’t knot me right fucking now.”

“I might have to either way, darlin’,” he growls, the chain collar around his neck clunking and rattling with his effort to both get closer to you and keep away all at the same time. The blood on his lower lip forms into a fat drop, lingers on his skin like it doesn’t want to leave, and you watch it fall and land on your inner thigh where you’re straddling him.

Even with his dark promises, your hands hastily pluck apart the buttons of his jeans and pull the material down to reveal a thick shaft surrounded by dark hair. He’s rock hard in your hands and before you can waste any more time your pussy is stretched open around him, every inch of his throbbing cock stuffed inside your slick walls.

You sigh contentedly as your heat settles, now that it has a taste of what it wants. Just having him inside you feels better than anything you’ve ever felt before, and a ragged howl escapes his throat at the rough slams of your hips down into his when you finally start to move.

Everything stands still while you take what you need from the alpha beneath you, claim him as your own with high pitched whimpers of his name, giving in to your most primal instincts. Every thrust has the two of you reeling toward the edge of bliss embarrassingly fast, and you grip his hair to force his eyes to yours when you’re close.

“Watch me, John. Watch me cum for you.”

Your efforts double, you slam your mouth into his, taste him for the first time, and cry out against his lips as the tingle of your orgasm spreads through your belly and explodes through you. The feel of you coming around him pushes John past the point of no return and into his rut. He’s tried to hold back, tried to tame the animal inside and protect you the way a good alpha should, but each buck of your hips has him barreling into a rut that you can smell, stifling and hot with a hint of sulfur, while you tremble in his lap and ride out your pleasure.

John’s eyes change- swirl from deep brown into an onyx wash that clears into a deep red that mirrors the emergency lights of the bunker. His body shakes and spikes another ten degrees in an instant and when you’re sure he’s about to actually catch on fire, an electric pulse consumes him, and then you. The surge shoots out of your bodies and the bunker lights flash with loud sparking pops before instant darkness falls through the bunker.

The red emergency lights and bright white flood lights kick a moment later, just in time for you to see John’s muscles tensing as he pulls at the chains he’s wrapped in, his rut taking him to full power. They groan and creak, and it’s when one snaps with a loud rattle that you realize the true strength of him.

“Oh my god.” You cower in awe, hormones no longer fuzzing your brain, before scrambling out of his lap. However, you’re not quite quick enough to facilitate your escape.

“You’re mine.”

A thick arm wraps around your back, and you shriek at the sharp sting of his claws on your hip. His one-handed attempt to keep you there with him draws blood, and you desperately wriggle out of his hold and off of his lap before rushing off into the bunker.

Two hallways pass by your sides before the clamor of breaking chain and splintering wood rattles into the bunker and stops you in your tracks. The wolf in him cries out for you, and a primal part of you is desperate to howl back. An eerie silence follows, sinks in bone deep, and you clap a hand over your mouth to stay quiet when you start moving again.

You don’t get very far before you walk into a brick wall of his scent, tumbling further under a tall, crashing wave of heat trying to drag you down to the depths of a hellfire made of a Winchester. The scent of the alpha radiates strong and insistent, and the door shuts quietly behind you as you slip inside, eyes keenly observing your room drenched in John’s scent.

At first glance, you see no differences, but the weight of the air tells you to look closer, and when you do you find that everything in your room is slightly off; as if all of your personal possessions have been picked through but weren’t put back into their rightful place.

The sheets on the bed have clearly been slept in and a pair of your underwear on the ground catch your eye. The soft pink material is moist when you pick them up and the smell that wafts up from them is unmistakable.They fall to the ground without a sound and you shakily wipe John’s cum off of your hands onto your sheets with a grimace of repulsion. How many times had he used your clothes for his pleasure? How many times had he laid in your bed, eyed the photos of your long gone family and defiled your intimacy?

John hadn’t even met you, yet, but from the time the boys brought him home he’s picked you open and left you exposed, vulnerable, and violated. He��s been living in the walls of your home, spending his nights in your bed just waiting for his moment to strike. The thought leaves your legs weak beneath you and you suddenly can’t breathe.

Bursting out of your room, you cling to the walls for support, searing pressure building in your lower belly as you move. If you’re in pain, you must be getting farther away from him. The hope in that thought is enough to stifle the pain and you’re crawling toward the library when your name is howled out into the bunker.

“Alpha,” you moan back against your own will, hands clapping over your mouth in an effort to stop the sound that’s already made its escape.

Two steps forward, five steps back.

Soft shuffling off in the distance switches directions and you know that John heard you call out for him. Panic bubbles in your blood and you battle pain, confusion, and need as you turn left toward your imminent escape path, eyes cast behind you in apprehension. You make it less than halfway down the long hall before you turn your eyes forward, finally sure that you’re on the path to freedom.

Stopping in your tracks, you stare in horror at the dead end before you. In your panic, you realize that you were supposed to turn right to get out, and you’ve just sealed your fate with one wrong turn.

Adrenaline and defeat kick around in your body and you know he’s going to find you. On cue, your body grows warmer, slicker and needier for him, and an electric crackle fills the air, telling you he’s getting close. He knows your scent too well and though you can’t see him, you’ve already been caught. Running will only make you weaker, so your stand still, waiting for the inevitable.

Soft shuffling has your ears pricking up at attention and your heart stops when you finally muster the gall to turn around and face your fate. John’s looming at the end of the hall, standing stock still just long enough for your pussy to leak and flutter for him. It’s that reaction that has him barreling down the hall on all fours like an animal, red eyes gleaming, claws scraping at the floor. He’s the most feral, lethal predator you’ve ever seen and this is what Sam and Dean warned you about. This is how you’ll meet your end- throat torn out by this hell sent Alpha with a cursed last name.

The child in your soul is the first to react, and your hands fly to cover your eyes. Maybe if you squeeze them shut tight hard enough you’ll wake up from this bad dream. Maybe you’ll be able to crawl back into your mother’s bed and find safety in her arms instead of death in John’s.

Your palms press painfully hard against your eyelids while you wait for the hit that never comes. What feels like years pass without a sound, and when you finally let your hands fall from your eyes all you can see is John’s mouth, the tension at the corners where he’s trying to restrain the snarl, white teeth practically dripping.

Body trembling and petrified at the way you pine for him, this wild stranger in front of you, your feet take a step closer to him without your permission. When your chest presses to his, the tears finally roll down your cheek and his mouth slams into yours. He hauls you up off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist before you’re slammed against the wall. All it takes is a slight shift of his hips and he’s inside of you again, splitting you open and swallowing your cries. He spins and a door breaks against the bottom of his boot a few seconds later, clattering to the floor while he lays you down on the bed and fucks an orgasm out of you with splinters still in your hair.

The orgasm hits hard and you’re still writhing in pleasure when John pulls out, shoves you up the bed, and pushes his mouth as far between your legs as it can go. He’s only just begun, but you’ve never been touched this way- this profound or this intensely. If you weren’t still in a blur, you’d be wondering how long John’s waited to worship someone like this.

Every lungful of air you’re able to suck in sticks heavy in your chest and throat. There’s a weight to the room that feels like you’re on another planet. In another dimension. All you can manage are gasps and moans and you finally splutter out ‘how?!’ because your brain literally cannot understand it. How can this feel so good? How can this possibly feel so right? How does he fit here so well?

He grins up at you, fire in his wild gleaming eyes when he growls, “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.”

As he devours you, takes you apart piece by piece, his lust-blown eyes shine up at you. They hold a lifetime of secrets and your body steals any semblance of control you might have been holding onto, bucks up into his mouth, pushes itself into his hands.

John holds you like you’re the most important thing he’s ever beheld. His infatuation and reverence sparks an epiphany. The monster between your legs isn’t donning a mask. John is a mirror, clear and revealing, exposing a part of you that you never knew you had before.

You moan his name, voice hard and eager to please. Eager to be pleased, filled, fucked ten ways to Sunday. You want John to ruin you, split you open with that cock and make you a ragged shell for nothing but pleasure and pups. The more he takes of you the more you want him; and the more you give in, the less afraid you are--of him and of your own desire.

John fucks you raw and hard like an animal, bruises your wrists and sinks his teeth into your body, breaking the skin here and there, licks and sucks marks between the bites he has no control over. What started as worship turns to chaos, and true to his word, he doesn’t relent, not even when you’re begging for mercy. Claws leave raised welts and lines of blood over your body as he digs his hands into your flesh, pushes and pulls you where he wants you, handling you like a rag doll for his pleasure.

The sheets beneath you are bloody and somewhere in his frenzied mating you feel yourself tearing around him in a sharp sting. A moment later, your inner thighs are wet with blood and slick and the wet squelch only has him bucking into you deeper and faster. Salty tears run down your cheeks as you cry out, but John ignores them and suffocates you beneath him. His claws scratch at your skin when he wraps a hand around your neck and grunts into your ear.

“Right here, Y/n. That’s where my mark is going. You ready for it?”

The question goes unanswered; all you can manage are strangled groans of ‘alpha’ and sobs of pain and fear before his pace speeds up. His knot throbs inside of you, stretches your walls that much more, and he pulls back enough to look down at you.

Tears litter your cheeks and you’re flushed, wrecked, and battered under his hands. John drives in deep with a smile on his mouth, savors the way you wince in pain at the feel of him slamming against your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your womb.

Long canines bite down hard where your neck and shoulder meet as John slams into you one final time. The red floodlights bathing the scene flicker and surge as your energies peak. His knot pops deep inside, painfully thick, locking him in place as he cums with a roaring howl that matches your own. The sound is guttural, primal, filled with pleasure and pain, and loud enough for Sam and Dean to hear from outside.

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

An hour after he’s claimed you and his knot has popped inside of you, you lay in his arms, unsure of everything other than the fact that you belong there. That John belongs inside of you, pressed deep and eternal. Every bit of your body hurts and his hands smooth over you, gentler than you even think possible, like a monster soothing a lamb before the slaughter. The white gleam of the flood lights in the hall outside illuminate the side of his face when he smiles softly down at you, his teeth and hands still stained with your blood.

Fear has a hold on you, hasn’t fully let you go yet. John is a stranger to you but here you are, clinging to his warm chest, body and soul marked as his in every way, forever. There’s a depth to his mossy brown eyes that reminds you of the men on the outside. Of Dean. The alpha who’s cared for you in the past, taken you in, and given you a home and family to love like your own.

It seems a lifetime ago since you were in this same position with Dean. From the first time you met, every heat and rut you went through, you went through together. The memories of how he used to kiss you, soft and comforting, and tell you cute jokes while his knot deflated send flickering warmth through your heart. But all too quickly, the happy memory is followed by a pang of hurt shooting through you.

Like magnets, you were drawn to each other, but Dean never claimed you because deep down you both knew that you weren’t his to have. Now, with John’s mark on your neck, heats and ruts with Dean are gone and you can’t help but wonder what the future will hold. If every heat and rut will feel like this one, or if you might be lucky enough to get a glimpse of the caring, playful alpha of your past. Tears roll down your cheeks and your mouth quivers at the thought of living with such brutality.

“You have his eyes,” you finally say, unable to keep the thought of Dean to yourself any longer. His brow furrows and you clear your throat. “Dean’s eyes.” He doesn’t respond, just levels you with a look you can’t place. “Well, I guess he has yours.”

A hasty kiss cuts off any other thoughts and you give in, letting that mouth soothe you in all the ways you know it can’t...shouldn’t. Not right now. Not yet. Not when you’re still reeling with fear and confusion and the crackling flame of your heat casting grim shadows through your future.

“I know,” he coos, his gravelly voice wrecked with emotions you’re both trying to come to terms with. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen. Not me meeting you, and definitely not this….”

John’s long fingers swipe over his claim on your neck, retreating at the small wince of pain he earns from you. Guilt worms into his chest and he holds you there, mouth just a kiss away from his.

He knows the answer but asks anyway. “Are you scared of me?”

You nod, shy but honest. “Yes.”

John hisses in disappointment, at himself and at you. How could you not love him the way he loves you? The way he’s loved you since he set foot in here and smelled you lingering in the air. He felt you wrap yourself around him when he paced the halls at night; slept in your bed to know you just a little more. He’s been obsessed with the ghost of you, and now you’re his.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you,” he admits, and your heart flutters, caught off guard by the meaning behind it. “Always thought it was Mary, but the second I walked in here, I knew. It was you.”

“I don’t want this,” your mouth spits out before you can stop it, before you can realize that you’re lying to his face.

John grins, gummy and wide, strikes fear in you with his irrefutable confidence but pulls you closer and speaks against your lips. “I knew, Y/n. Smelled this omega pussy every time I walked by your room. Didn’t say anything to the boys about it- didn’t wanna upset them- but I knew you before they even told me your name or that they had my omega here just waiting for me to come and claim her.” His hands stroke your cheeks and those eyes bore into you and unhinge you with the kind of care that only someone truly out of control can conjure.

“I could feel your energy when I touched your things, could smell this hot cunt on your laundry.” He inhales, the action crude and obscene. “Sleep didn’t come so easy, but the second I laid down in here it was like I could feel you pressing yourself up against me. I knew you and had you every night, so when I smelled you come through the door I knew I had to lock myself up or this would happen.” A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, guess it was meant to happen, huh?”

Even with his claim on your neck, you can’t do anything other than gape at him. You’re mortified and enthralled by his words, and secretly long for freedom from his overwhelming intensity.

He shifts a little so you can feel his knot inside you and coos gently at the anxious whimper you let out. Gathering you closer to him, John feels your heart race against his. As if his touch is all you need, the exhaustion of the day starts to drag you down and there’s blood on his tongue when he kisses you goodnight.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha.”

Those are the last words you hear before tumbling into a dark and dizzying sleep.

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

When you wake, it’s to the feel of thick fingers splaying you open, rubbing your swollen labia and massaging your inner thighs. Time is lost in the bunker and in your heat. It could be twenty minutes or a year later and your body wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Not when broad shoulders have your thighs pushed apart, the contented sigh on your lips turning harsh at the slick drag of John’s tongue.

He licks over you, parts your folds to find your clit, then sucks hard and makes his way down to your fucked-out slit. The wet, thick squish of his old cum seeping out of you vanishes when John forces his tongue inside to scoop it out and swallow it down. Shuddering violently against it, you fist his hair and kick off the blankets to finally look down at him. His eyes are red and your fever is raging again.

“My boys ever do this? Eat their cum from your little omega pussy?” he asks. It’s dirty and fucked up, wrong on so many levels, but he’s got a gleam in those treacherous eyes and you moan back against your better judgment.

“Don’t… keep it in me.”

Pride overwhelms him and his teeth dent his lower lip as he grins up at you. “Okay, sweetheart-” he sinks his fangs lightly into your flesh, holds it for a second and then gives you the painful satisfaction of breaking the skin- “yeah, let’s keep it in you. Make sure we get some pups in this gorgeous belly.”

Mewling in agreement, he releases his bite on your inner thigh and stalks back over you. Eager to feel him inside of you again, you pull at him and whimper his name so needy and so sweet that he sinks into you while he’s still soft. He’s pliant and warm as he pushes his old cum back into you, until he’s as deep as he can go, blunt tip squished up against your cervix. John’s right back where he belongs, and you can’t help but whimper at the small amount of lost cum that seeps out around him. As if he knows what you’re thinking, he licks at your lips, lets you taste his seed on his tongue and assures you in that midnight-dark voice the way only a stranger, only a soulmate, can.

“Don’t worry, omega. Your heat’s not done yet, and I’ve only just started my rut. We’ll get another load in here, soon enough. You’re gonna be so full of me and my pups.” He kisses your jaw. “All round.” Fingers squeeze at your tender breasts. “So beautiful,” he grunts, thrusting up enough for you to wince at the tight pinch of him so deep.

His mouth follows a pre-marked path down to the fresh marks on your neck -- the one bite on your body that actually means anything -- and his long, sharp fangs reopen his mark and sink down further into your flesh to solidify his claim. The power of his bite aches deep into the muscle and blood seeps out of the corners of his mouth. Sucking and licking your claim, John bites you over and over, deeper each time. All you can do is gasp and groan beneath him in pain and arousal, fingers raising blood on his back as you scratch a path down to his ass to pull him in closer. Trying to fuse your body and his in any way possible, to share breaths and blood if you can, even if it’s only through your warm needy mouths.

“Those boys aren’t getting to you any time soon, Y/n. I don’t think this place is gonna let anyone in or out until I’m done with you.” His hand wraps around your neck, pushes high to grip the edge of your jaw, and the pinch of his fingers against the bone lures a hiss from deep within you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod as best you can, eyes fluttering shut as he grows harder inside you and hotter against you with another flare of his rut. There isn’t anything in the world that could take this from you. You don’t know John, especially this dark version of him spat out of hell, but you’re his and he’s yours. True mates. And you’re convinced that the strong current that vibrates between you will keep you locked in here with him until your heat and his rut have died off.

“All fucking mine,” he says as he pulls you closer, the promise raw and real, and you’ll follow this monster anywhere.

Even to your death.

#john winchester x reader #alpha x omega #flamencodivacelebrates1700 #that's some supernatural schitt #firefly's summer challenge

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