#Dean Winchester is bad at feelings

[luwritesomething]

Dean Winchester x Reader: tolerate it.

Warnings: Swearing (probably), angsty?? and with fluff but it remains angsty until the end. also, dean doesn't (know how to) acknowledge reader's obvious feelings for him, lowercase intended, unrequited love coded.

Tags: angsty, hunter!reader, reader has known sam and dean since kids, no season states, can be read as black reader, can be read as plus size reader.

Reader pronouns: they/them (used once)

Word count: 785

Summary: When Reader bursts into tears because of seeing Dean hurt, he doesn't know how to react.

Author’s note: another dean thingie because angst is my specialty and i was feeling THAT kinda way... I rarely ever write for Dean! Not because I don’t like him (I LOVE HIM), but because since I haven’t finished the show (i've just finished season 8) the requests have to be either pre-show or within those seasons. Anyways, Dean and Sam Winchester requests are open, but with those conditions !! love my boys <3 also gif is not mine.

you cried when you saw dean really hurt after a hunt for the first time in long months.

it made you feel childish and stupid, as you had been into the hunter life for as long as he had, as you two and sammy had been through hell and back; but when you saw the exhaustion in his face, the hopeless look in his eyes as he tried not to move his arm too much because the pain was piercing and burning him, you couldn't help it. tears had ran down your cheeks in silence, blurring the sight of the gold rush of a man you called dean, but before you could turn your face away from him and sam, they saw you.

"hey..." dean started, and that was enough for you. you couldn't take it.

your steps were quick towards the door of that old, stinky motel dorm the three of you had found hours ago, making sure to grab dean's impala keys before you stepped outside. sam called out your name and even opened the door, fearful that you might just take the car and drive away from them and the reality, the pain, the misery. but you only needed the keys to open the door to the car and lock yourself in, spacing out of everything around you to try and rationalize the cascade of emotions you were feeling.

sam sighed softly, almost in relief, when he saw you weren't going anywhere, and he closed the door with care before turning to his brother. dean's eyes were filled with worry, an anxious expression that sam hadn't seen many times outside of the battlefield, but he understood.

"should i..." dean had to clear his throat to recover his voice from the surprise, the hoarse shock your reaction had thrown him onto. "should i go talk to them?"

"later?" sam asked like that was dean's original idea. he heard dean rushing to him in agreement, like he had never intended to go right now. "yeah, i think you should. later."

dean nodded stiffly. "later."

later was an eternity, but dean waited. he cleaned his wound, patched it up with sam's help, got a beer and then he got a second one, and a third one. he waited, sitting in his bed with his gaze lost in the floor boards beneath his boots, and sam didn't try to pull him back to reality.

later came when sam decided to get into bed, shutting the little lamp by his side. dean brushed his face with his hand, rather harshly to wake himself up from the trance he had put himself into, and then he moved the curtains to the side to make sure you hadn't drive away from them. you hadn't, and he already knew that because he would have heard you, but his heart slowed down at the sight of you still in the car.

dean closed the door to the room softly and made his way to the door slowly. you had your eyes closed, as you sat on the drivers seat, not asleep but completely disconnected from your surroundings. he had to knock on the glass window to get you to open your eyes, and your eyes softened when they locked with his, so soft, so caring.

surrounding the car, dean got into the passenger seat as soon as you allowed him too, closing the door to allow the intimate conversation to stay inside the vehicle.

"hey."

"hey." you muttered. you let your eyes close for longer than usual, then turned to look at him. "i'm sorry, i overreacted."

dean pursed his lips slightly. "we've gotten through so much worse. you know that."

"i know." your voice was barely a whisper. "i know. i just worry, you know? i... can't really help it."

"i know." he nodded along to his words, giving them value, making you feel like he was finally listening to what you had to say. still, your heart ached. "but i'm alright. i promise."

"we always are."

he only looked at you from the corner of his eyes. "it's what the job asks of us."

"i know." you had never sound so bitter in your entire life, you knew. but he avoided to look at you, and you did the same. "you're alright."

some beats of silence. then, a slow grin started forming in his face, "you should've seen the other guy."

"too soon."

"ah, c'mere." his arm extended and wrapped you around your shoulders, pushing you closer to him. you let him handle you, accommodating your head against his good shoulder, closing your eyes. your heart ached more and more and more--- "we've survived. that's enough."

but it wasn't.

[huggybearsunshine]

Fewer Things 5

Sam stirred awake in the library, book abandoned in his lap and looking around for what woke him. Then the sound of boots descending the metal stairs pulled his attention to the room behind him.

“Dean?” his tired voice called and went unanswered.

He placed the book on the table and rose to his feet as his brother reached the foot of the staircase.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, body tensing and brows stitching toward the middle of his face.

“It worked,” the hunter’s voice cracked as he said it.

“Worked?” Sam tried to shake the sleep from his mind, “Burying the box?”

“No, Sam, Cas is…” but Sam’s eyes had drifted up the stairs, “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry, but my stomach felt suddenly very empty and I also have to urinate,” Cas replied apologetically.

Sam’s gaze drifted back down and found Dean staring up at Cas with the softest adoration before he pretended to cringe.

“Just say you have to pee,” the older of the brothers laughed, “And there’s still takeout in the fridge, right?”

Cas descended the stairs and passed the two, offering a quick ‘Hello, Sam,’ as he did. Dean’s eyes followed before finding Sam’s again once the other man had left the room.

“What?” he bristled at the expression he found there.

“So Cas is back,” Sam raised his brow, “And also human… apparently.”

“I was trying to tell you,” he shrugged.

“You okay?” the younger asked knowingly.

“Better than,” he stood firm, but received an even higher raised brow in response.

“You sure?” Sam insisted.

“I’m a lot of things, okay,” Dean shifted uncomfortably, “Better being one of those.”

He stalked off, wishing to leave the conversation behind him.

“I’m gonna heat him up something to eat,” he tossed over his shoulder as he went.

Cas was coming down the hall toward him as he reached the kitchen.

“Come on,” Dean nodded for him to follow, and without hesitation the former Angel went.

After almost a minute in the microwave, near instantly forgotten as Dean stared at the other man like he was a revelation, the ding startled him into motion again. He placed a lopsided burger on a plate in front of Cas with such care, it seemed almost too precious to eat.

However, the hunger in Cas’ gut insisted.

“Not the best meal, but it’ll do the trick,” Dean commented as he sunk into the seat across from him, “Then we’ll get you showered and dressed in something that’s not drenched.”

“We?” Cas asked around his bite, and Dean’s brows knit in confusion as he replayed his words in his head, going pale when it hit him.

“What? No, I just meant…” but the mischievous glint in Cas’ glance loosened him again, “Are you… messing with me? Really?”

“I just needed clarity,” Cas feigned innocent.

“The hell you did,” he couldn’t help the tug at his lip as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I have no other clothes,” the former Angel added, sparing the other man from commenting further down that line of thought.

“Right…” Dean sat up again, thinking for a moment before rising to his feet, “Keep eating, I’ll be right back.”

Dean passed Sam on his way out of the kitchen with a quick but evasive glance.

He seemed unsure of where to look since getting back with Cas, and Sam was starting to think he might have a suspicion to why.

“Hey, Cas,” he took the now abandoned seat across from him, a warm smile spreading at the sight of his returned friend.

“Sam,” he forced himself to break from eating in acknowledgement.

“We thought you were gone for good,” the hunter couldn’t stop himself from saying the thought aloud, “Are you… okay?”

“Yes, I admit, I did as well,” Cas nodded, “I am… feeling many things at the moment… but mostly, I’m just glad to be back… and to hear that everything with Chuck was resolved,” a crease formed between his brows as his focus dropped to the table between them, “I do have complicated feelings on Jack being God, though… I wanted a normal life for him. That’s why I… did what I did…”

“Dean wouldn’t tell me anything…” Sam revealed gently, “But I have to ask, Cas… What happened that day?” he tried, wanting to venture further, but a clearing throat in the doorway behind him saved Cas from coming up with a response.

“Let him eat, Sam,” Dean spoke gruffly, a clear and unquestionable warning to his words, before his eyes shifted to look at the former Angel in the seat facing him, “Got you these.”

He held up a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, picked for comfort. Something loose, soft, and warm. The opposite of what Cas usually outfitted himself in.

He didn’t want to look any further into why he’d put that much thought into the garments. In fact, he was struggling to keep his thoughts as far away from that type of thinking as he could, resorting to counting the steps it took to get from his bedroom to the kitchen.

There were one hundred and forty-three.

“I think I’m full,” Cas cut into the hunter’s introspection to which Dean responded with a grateful smile, “Ready for that shower, I think.”

“Right,” Dean nodded, “Sam, you can clean up here. I’ll get him setup in there.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam couldn’t help the smirk that pulled his lip.

Dean nodded his head for Cas to follow and the former Angel rose without another word to Sam.

Once they entered the hallway, there was a noticeable shift in the energy around them.

“How ya feeling?” the need to fill the silence finally got the better of the hunter.

“I’m fine… a little overwhelmed, but fine,” he assured him as they reached the room and walked in together.

Dean busied himself, gathering all of Sam’s toiletries with the assumption that Cas would like them more than the cheap shit he used.

“Shower might help with that,” he replied, placing everything in one of the stalls for him, “Good way to reset, you know?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded as Dean handed him a towel, “I found them very pleasant before… showers.”

His fingers touched Dean’s in the hand-off and the hunter froze, eyes instantly darting down to the connection before returning to Cas’ soft eyes.

“Thank you, Dean,” he commented sincerely, “For everything.”

“Yeah,” the word puffed out of his mouth on a breath, “Yeah, no problem…”

Cas watched him curiously until the attention seemed to remind Dean that he should be leaving at this point.

He cleared his throat, something he seemed to be doing in excess since Cas’ return, and pulled his hands away to take a hesitant step back.

“I’ll, uh- let you get to it,” green eyes shifted nervously before he backed away and toward the door, “Clothes are there…”

He pointed toward the nearby bench where they were placed in a carefully folded pile and gave another quick glance before he was out of the room.

Inside, Cas smiled sweetly toward the clothing and began to undress. While outside, Dean had pressed his back into the now closed door, shaky breath pushing its way out.

“Dean?“ Sam asked gently from down the hall, concerned frown scrunching his expressive face.

“Yeah,” Dean quickly stood straighter and schooled his face, “Hey, what’s up?”

“You okay?” his brother neared.

“Mm hm,” Dean’s voice came out clipped and forced, “Yeah, just realizing how starved I am… gonna see what I can whip up real quick.”

He brushed by the other hunter as quickly as possible to head back into the kitchen where he immediately started his search for sustenance.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asked as he rounded the corner, “Something’s different between you and-“

“Sam, back off,” Dean’s voice shook as he tried to keep his calm.

He wasn’t ready, didn’t know his own feelings on the matter and sure as hell wasn’t ready to let anyone else in on them.

“Cas just came back,” he settled on, “Can you not just… let me be happy about that…”

“Yeah,” Sam looked taken aback for a moment, “Yeah, of course, Dean… sorry…”

He looked legitimately guilty so Dean loosened his shoulders and unbristled his defenses.

“Thought we could watch a movie,” he offered, “maybe have some beers and popcorn…” his eyes found his brother’s own awaiting him, grateful to the change in energy if not a little whiplashed, “What d’ya think?”

It looked like Sam was mulling something over before he spoke, “‘We’ as in..?”

“Me, you, and Cas,” Dean frustratedly answered, “Who do you think I meant?”

“No, right, yeah,” Sam stuttered, “Sounds good.”

“I’m gonna have a grilled cheese, you want one?” Dean altered his tone yet again, turning his back to him.

“I’m good,” Sam’s eyes searched the back of his head and shoulders as if he’d find some answers there, but it seemed in vain, so he let it go, “Thanks, though…”

A small nod was Dean’s only response, focus remaining unwaveringly glued to the stove at his fingertips until the sandwich was done. He found the task relaxing once silence filled the room and he could lose himself in the act, but by the time he sat down with his creation, Cas was padding his way into the doorway, barefoot with towel-dried hair and a much more contented look on his tired face.

Dean couldn’t help it if his smile got away from him at the sight, “Hey bud, how ya feeling?”

“The shower was… a nice reset,” he returned Dean’s earlier statement, “Thank you.”

“Thought it might be,” Dean forgot the other half of his sandwich entirely, “How do the clothes fit?”

“Well I think… much more comfortably than my previous clothes,” he replied back, looking down at himself, and that’s when Dean realized he hadn’t given the other man any underwear, “Especially after they were drenched in that sludge…”

He noticed Dean’s eyes fixated on the lower half of his body and he trailed off, head tilting slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Cas voiced the question written on his face.

“N-nothing,” Dean’s eyes immediately darted toward Sam, who seemed as though he wanted to focus anywhere but on his brother in that moment, “Uh… come with me for a sec, will ya?”

He stood, and as always, Cas followed without question.

They entered Dean’s room and the hunter went toward one of the drawers of his chest.

“Do me a favor and put these on, okay?” there was a blush to his cheeks when he handed the boxers over.

Cas squinted his eyes at him as he took them, “Something wrong, Dean?”

“No, uh… just…” he cleared his suddenly dry throat, “Gray sweatpants have a tendency to… um… geez,” he turned away, rubbing a hand over his face, “They leave nothing to the imagination, is what I’m trying to say…”

Cas looked down again and realized the meaning behind Dean’s roundabout description.

“Ah… so it’s a modesty issue,” the former Angel nodded, “I see.”

“Yeah,” another throat clearing rang out in the silence, this one less intentional than the last, “I’ll give you a minute…”

He brushed passed him, face even redder, and Cas felt his lips curl up in response as the door clicked shut.

Dean practically barreled into Sam on his way out, in too much of a hurry to notice the giant looming presence.

“Hold long have you been standing here?” he barked out as he stumbled back.

“I haven’t,” Sam’s eyebrows rose in an amused expression, “I was going to get my own pajamas on.”

“Yeah, me too,” he huffed out, eyes cast downward on his own feet before turning back toward his room.

“Isn’t Cas still-?“ Sam started as the door opened and the man in question stepped right into Dean’s space.

“Yep,” Dean side-stepped awkwardly into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Cas to confusedly turn to the other Winchester brother as he laughed and shook his head.

“What did I do?” the former Angel asked.

“I wish I knew,” Sam walked away, continuing to shake his head.

———————

@destiel-wings @destieliscanon5nov

[nacvamp]

Dean Winchester is Tsundere

[awaywardfatherswaywardson]

I'm just thinking about like Dean after finding out about people writing wincest fanfiction and obviously he acted grossed out because that's how you're supposed to act to finding out that people write porn about you and your brother, but also maybe he stumbles upon a fic someone wrote of Sam harbouring feelings for Dean the whole time and he secretly loves it.

He reads the full 50k+ word fanfiction full of angst and yearning and realizes how badly he wants it to be true. How much he wants Sam to have feelings for him, to have had feelings for him his whole life, and something in his stomach twists.

There's something wrong with him, he knows it. He wants Sam to be dependent on him, to never truly love anyone the way he loves Dean. He wants Sam to want him the way women in bars want him. He wants Sam to want him the way Lisa wanted him. He wants to be everything to Sam.

He reads the words on the screen and reflects it to real life. When Sam looked at Jess the first time, she reminded him of Dean. When Sam kissed her for the first time, he thought of Dean. When Sam fucked her for the first time, he had to bite his tongue to prevent from calling out for Dean.

When Sam saw Dean for the first time in years and he's panting, pinned to the ground beneath his big brother, he got hard. When Sam rolled over on top of Dean, he had to force himself not to grind on him. When Sam stood in front of him, just inches too close for brothers to stand, he wanted to kiss him. When Jess interrupted them, Sam wanted it even more, to show Jess that he belonged to Dean. He always has and always will, and she could never compete with that.

Dean knows he shouldn't, but as he reads, he believes that it's true. This is really how Sam felt this whole time. He's not the only one fucked up this way. Sam yearned for Dean for years after they got back together and the tension finally crescendoed when Sam found out about the deal Dean made for him. He realized Dean loves him more than life itself, would spend an eternity burning in hell just so he could have one more year with his baby brother.

Sam kissed him rough and angry before it quickly fizzled out into desperation and longing. Dean sat down on the bed, pulling Sam to straddle him, and Sam gently pushed him onto his back. He mumbled Dean's name into his mouth and Dean pushed up onto his elbows to get closer. They held each other tightly as they rut against each other until finally, *finally*, they come together with each others names on their tongue in the others mouth.

Dean- real Dean- didn't realize he's been rubbing his hand over his crotch until he's wet and sticky in his pants. He hears Sam's name tumble quietly from his lips, and suddenly his eyes and cheeks burn with shame. He tears his hand away from himself before he even stopped twitching. Closing the browser as fast as he can, he launches himself out of the chair and into the shower, barely remembering to slam the bathroom door shut behind him.

Dean doesn't cry in the shower, the water just runs down his face. He's not red with shame, the water is just really hot. His legs don't buckle under the weight of this disgusting burden he carries, the water just relaxes him to the point of exhaustion. There's nothing wrong with him, the water is washing it away.

[thenameisgul]

In 15 seasons Supernatural we had only two female main cast members and that too for only one season. Homophobia may have been SPN’s biggest problem but misogyny was definitely a close second.

[spnhunter4life]

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic. 

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon. 

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted. 

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be. 

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again. 

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary. 

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside. 

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean. 

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name. 

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice. 

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh. 

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground. 

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife. 

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster. 

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious. 

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-” 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused. 

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves. 

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone. 

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve. 

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.” 

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm. 

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense. 

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed. 

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile. 

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?” 

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care. 

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time. 

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it. 

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[sammygender]

i’ve never been as angry on behalf of a character as i am for sam winchester

[caslesbo]

the reason dean is like That is because he sleeps in jeans and boots so the sleep he’s getting is abysmal. if i was sleeping in that i’d go crazy mean and stupid too

[very-normal-person]

i convinced my girlfriend and my sister to watch supernatural and BOY they don't know what they're in for

[shadystranger]

sam had a boner here

[golby-moon]

oh look a thingy for the @destieldtiyschallenge. this year's model is called uh idk whatever @beansprean called this silly masterpiece that's kinda old but I thought it was kinda funny and recreated it

(here's the original for reference and easier comparisons)

I'm awful at drawing couches, people sitting, Cas squinting (idk why it just never looks quite right), cowboy hats, and people sitting on couches, so I naturally recreated a thing with all of these things. I say recreated because I did change some things a little. nothing major but I did use the wrong camera size which meant I had to draw their legs (which was death never again oh no) and idk I just kinda kept losing the spirit of the redraw from there. accidentally and stuff probably

I've secretly been waiting for a chance to draw Dean and Cas in matching pajamas, because what goes better with hotdogs than hamburgers something something America. also I couldn't figure out what 'Wyatt Corp' was and Google wasn't helpful so I did leave that part out (sorry)

so yeah enjoy the kind of redraw

(04/06/24)

[huggybearsunshine]

Almost

[Dedicated as always to @spuffy-destiel]

Dean was hurt when Sam found them, Cas’ glowing hand pressed to his chest as his eyes cracked open. It was more or less a normal sight to come upon until the Angel went to pull away.

Dean’s hand clasped down over the other’s, pinning it to his heart, and their eyes met.

Sam had planned to call out but his voice caught in his throat.

“Cas,” Dean’s rang out instead.

“I’ve got you… You’re alright, Dean,” the Angel assured him, and it was then that Sam noticed the softness of Cas’ hold on him and the closeness of their forms.

“No, I’m not,” Dean sat up a bit but Cas’ hold supported his weight, allowing him to rest against him, “I haven’t been alright in a while.”

A cough rang out and the glow returned to fix what the Angel had missed.

“What are you saying?” Cas questioned softly.

“This… this is more, isn’t it?” the newly healed hunter asked.

“More than what?” Cas’ brows knit, but there was a shimmer of tears that suggested he already knew the answer.

“More than we say it is,” Dean’s eyes begged for something Castiel was almost too afraid to allow.

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” his voice shook.

“I’m asking if you feel it too,” Dean sat up to face him, unable to hide the smile that tugged when the other man’s hand remained against his chest.

“Feel it… too?” the tears were more than a shimmer now.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking, Cas,” he gripped tighter to his hand, drawing the celestial’s eyes back to the point of contact.

“With everything in me,” he hushed.

“So why are we not…” Dean leaned in slowly, but Cas’ eyes turned directly toward the younger of the brothers, and he stumbled back.

It was a warning, a plea, for Sam not to ruin what had been on the precipice of happening for years, so close yet never quite there.

It was a request the hunter was more than happy to grant them, but his foot hitting a root on the ground had other plans, and he felt himself start to go, his eyes filling with regret as he went.

Dean’s eyes followed when the loud thud of his body hit the ground.

“Sammy?” he called back, “Shit.”

Dean’s eyes found Cas’ again, and the Angel watched as desire was clouded over by shame and embarrassment. He pulled back, releasing his hand and rising to his feet.

“We should… we should get back to the car…” he rubbed his face and looked everywhere but at the other.

“Of course,” Cas found himself saying as Dean’s back was turned to him.

“Sam, you okay?” his voice carried back.

Cas watched his retreating form with an emptiness in his chest that rivaled any other pain he’d felt in his long existence.

And when he went to follow, he found his legs unwilling to rise and his eyes unwilling to dry.

[shellhawk]

It finally occurred to me that adult Sam’s obsession with healthy eating is his reaction to years of eating whatever Dean could steal and whatever he could warm up on a hot plate. Years of cereal. Years of canned beans. Years of greasy diner food. All because John was gone and child Dean did the best he could to make sure his little brother was fed. And Sam swears he’s not going to eat like that again because it reminds him of never having a mom or a real home other than the Impala. Of not having a dad stick around and raise him and his brother.

I wonder if Dean giving him a hard time about his smoothies and rabbit food comes from the guilt of not being able to give it to Sammy when he was little. I wonder if it’s why he so proudly sticks to his junk food and diner offerings, like it’s a salve to his ego. Sort of a, “Hey, it’s still good enough.”

[supernatural-24]

"I learnt my lesson while I was away dean, I serve heaven not man, and I certainly don't serve you"

damn cas is really breaking everyone's hearts this episode

[drasticemotions]

🎵 my daddy shot your daddy in the head 🎵

[sammygender]

so many people can’t conceptualise emotional neglect as anything other than ‘my parents were cold and distant and never talked about feelings with me’, and this, while being just a general awful problem of course, is also what leads to so much john winchester mischaracterisation. in this essay i will