#and dean would do anything to keep sam happy

[loversofthegrave]

"The Bonnie to your Clyde, the Mallory to your Mickey.”

john raised the boys as actual serial killers rather than hunters au

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

[bohemianblasphemy]

things sam winchester would do bc i said so✨

N/SFW

SFW

- sam would be the best boyfriend. he is just such a sweet man and he’s so big n tall n cuddly HES SO BOYFRIEND. such a gentleman.

- remembers the small things about you - he knows your coffee order by heart and your favourite things. he will get something that relates to it to see that beautiful smile on your face - it makes him happy to see you happy.

- he says I love you first.

- gives the best hugs.

- mornings with sam are perfection. he gets up before you, wanting to cook a breakfast for the both of you. when you walk into the kitchen he’s at the stove cooking up, you wrap your arms around him and he smiles as his love embraces him.

- he’d be very protective of you. with his past experiences with jess he is scared of losing you and he will do anything in his power to keep you safe. it took him a while to pursue you due to his fear, but after dean convincing him to (bc he was getting sick of the pining between you two) he was all in, nothing could seperate you both.

- cuddles, cuddles and even more cuddles. yes he is a big spoon but you know what??? some days he wants to be held. he will put his head on your chest, letting his hands roam your torso and feel your warm skin against his fingers. bonus points for playing with his hair whilst he’s like that, he loves it and will make lil sighs and content noises.

-oh he is king of kissing. its just so gentle and sweet, he can never get enough of you. its cute as fuck when he kisses your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose and then pecks your lips. he’s also a fan of giving and receiving neck kisses.

a passionate man.

speaking of passionate…

NSFW

- he is a dom ( i mean did we not see the scene with Ruby???). he definitely uses his height to his advantage - knowing that it gets you hot and bothered seeing his lust filled eyes looking down at you, teasing you ever so slightly with his long fingers.

- he can be very rough and passionate, but he also makes love like there’s no tomorrow. one minute he can be absolutely pounding into you and smacking your ass, the next minute he will be gentle and soft- kissing all over you and praising the fuck outta you.

- praise kink. enough said.

- he l o v e s dirty talk.

“you’re such a good girl for me, i can’t get enough of you…”

“ fuck baby your mouth feels amazing, i need more…”

- you cannot convince me this man does not live to eat pussy. don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves when receives oral but MAN he will not stop at anything to get a taste of you. (extra points for pulling his hair, he loves that too). he also leave hickeys behind on your inner thighs…

- he loves missionary. his need to look at you whilst he fucks you senseless - it makes him hard. he needs you to looks at him, watching you come undone makes him cum harder inside you. he is also a fan of you on top, adores seeing your tits bounce whilst you ride his cock. (defs a boob man)

- aftercare is so important to him. he will sing sweet praises to you, meets any needs that you may wish for and follows through.

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i hope you enjoyed!!! please do send in requests if you would like!!! ✨✨

[tofics]

Almost Like You Need Someone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Song Inspo: Be Someone by Benson Boone

Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, with one exception: your character shines as bright as the sun, bringing light even into the darkest corners of every place you go. Dean's never seen anything like it. Before he knows it, he's become infatuated with you...

Word count: 2434 words

Warnings: mention of child death, other than that it's just fluff!

A/N: I came across the song that inspired this one shot yesterday and got to writing pretty much right away. I couldn't help but imagine what could have become of Dean if he'd had a constant source of happiness in his life and this one shot is what came out of that. Just pure fluff. I couldn't stop grinning while writing this 🤪 I integrated the song's lyrics here and there. I highly recommend listening to the song before/during reading. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🤭

Bobby introduced you to the boys, one lonesome duckling getting paired with two other lonesome ducklings. Together, the three of you take on the world as a flock. You’ve hunted together with Dean and Sam for quite some time now. Just one and a half years older than Sam, you’ve grown quite comfortable sandwiched between the two Winchester boys.

The work isn’t easy. More often than not, you return from a hunt covered in gore from head to toe. Blood, intestines, slime - you’ve been doused in it all, and then some. Despite the gruesome nature of your job, you have a way of keeping a light heart around it all. It’s physically challenging - but it keeps you fit. You have no permanent home - but you get to travel the country. You don’t get paid in dollars, but in the gratitude of the people you’ve saved. Whatever happens - you’ll find a way of putting a positive spin on it.

And it’s not just for show either. You’re a good-natured spirit through and through, bringing light and smiles to every room you set a foot into.

It’s one of the many things that have Dean completely puzzled and amazed at the same time. He's never seen anything like it. How someone who grew up in the hunter’s business could be as lighthearted as you are is beyond him, even though he knows your story. Your family has been hunting what goes bumping in the night for generations. It’s this expertise that has brought about your family’s devotion to a happy life: to fight the dark, you need to carry light in your heart. With two parents who doted on you any second they were not wrapped up in a hunt, you got raised in a world where there were monsters under your bed, but also parents by your side to teach you how to deal them. For each terror you fought, your parents would go out of their way to show you not one, but two instances of the good and beautiful in the world. They kept your scale balanced and ignited the spark that grew into the light you now carry within you, spreading it towards anyone you meet. And it’s infectious.

It starts slow. At first, it’s an easy smile that appears on Dean’s face anytime you enter the room without him even being aware of it. It grows wider when you give him a smile of your own, and you do, every day, without fail. He finds himself making jokes just to hear your laugh. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he wants to be the reason that the corners of your lips turn upwards, that he wants to be the one to put that spark in your eyes.

On long research nights at the library, he gets you coffee, making you giggle when he tells Sam to get his own with a wink at you. It’s disguised as silly banter between brother and brother, not clear favoritism for you.

You connect with victims and their families in your own, heartfelt way that reminds him of the way his mother used to tend to him when he was small. There’s kindness and softness in your voice and more often than not, you end up wiping tears of your face as you’re told about the people the families are grieving. He teases you about it but hopes you never stop.

A small voice appears in his head and questions him when he makes sure not to sit next to you every time you guys go out to eat a diner so as not to raise suspicion. ‘Suspicion of what?’ the small voice says, but he shoves it aside and tells it to shut it, the same way he tells Sammy to quit yapping when he’s going on his nerves.

He shares little about his past but answers honestly when you ask, just not in so many words. Part of him doesn’t like talking about it, even if it’s you. The other part of him wants you to do the talking. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He wants to know it all. Sam can share one of his literature findings and it goes into one ear and out the other, unless it’s case-related. You, on the other hand, get started on a ramble about the cinematography of a French movie you saw last night, and he finds himself intrigued with your analysis, despite never having cared for any French movie of any kind. Sam is happy to join the conversation, having seen the movie himself, and it’s the first time he gives Dean a look of suspicion. “Since when do you care about this stuff?” Dean grunts. “I don’t. It’s just that she makes it sound a LOT more interesting than you do.” He slaps his baby brother on the back of the head and that’s the end of that. For a while.

You share your time equally with the brothers, naturally flowing from one to the other as the situation sees fit. Never having been one to shy away from body contact, you’re often sprawled out over the two of them on the couches that are slightly too big for two and awkwardly too small for three in your motel rooms. A head leaning on Sam’s shoulder, one leg stretched out over Dean’s lap. Sleeping arrangements usually turn out in your favor, although you never ask to be treated with privilege. The boys insist: you get one side of the bed, always. A quick game of rock, paper, scissors determines who gets the other side and who gets the couch. The longer you three travel together, the more Dean hopes to beat the game, although he loses to Sam more often than he likes. The small voice becomes louder in those nights on the couch, when he’s tossing and turning and telling himself that the only reason he wants to be on one side of that bed is not because you’re on the other side of it, but because the cushions of the sofa are all worn out and uncomfortable and he’ll wake up with a stiff neck. Still, the small sting he feels when he wakes in the morning and sees you sprawled across the bed, your head nestled against Sam’s arm, is undeniable. “Wake up, you two love-birds,” he tends to say and throws a pillow at Sam’s face, never at you. Without fail, Sam throws the pillow back, paired with a grouchy “shut up” and an eye-roll. It makes you laugh, the way the two sometimes bicker like an old married couple. Dean wonders if Sam truly feels as nonchalant about it as he appears or if he enjoys the way you cuddle up to him at night. On the rare occasions that Dean does share the bed with you, you try to keep on your side of the bed after you noticed him stiffen up when you rolled up against him. He often thinks about telling you that you don't have to do that, that you can cuddle up to him in bed the same way you do on the couch, but he doesn't know how without it sounding awkward.

One day, your trio gets a particularly rough case. This time, there's a child among the victims. He sees the family's grief rip into you and bury its claws deep, fueled by your empathy that he's come to see as a strength, rather than a weakness. It takes you longer to recover than it normally does. Despite killing the responsible monster and setting an end to its killing spree, the light that usually shines so bright within you remains dim. Both Sam and Dean feel the affect the child's death has had on you.

Sam, ever the more capable one when it comes to feelings, asks if you want to talk about it. And although it's not Dean's field of expertise, he listens intently. He wants to know about your pain, even if he doesn't know how to take it from you. He lets Sam do most the talking but keeps looking at you through the rearview mirror. That's when he sees it for the first time, the smallest look from behind your eyes when yours meet his - that this is a moment where you need someone to be the light. That night, he gets on Sam's laptop and does some research of his own.

The next day, him and Sam are arguing about the best possible route towards their next stop. On other days, you would intervene, but you remain silent and look out the window, leaving him and Sam to figure it out on their own. Sam is convinced the direction Dean wants to go is a detour, but Dean insists it's the correct way. Half an hour later, the three of you drive through a town's main street when you suddenly come to live in the backseat: you've spotted a pet shop, its window full with a litter of puppies climbing over themselves. You turn to Dean in the driver's seat and ask if you can make a quick stop here. Already, there's a stronger glow in your eyes than there was a moment ago. "Sure, why not," he replies. "I could use a bit of a stretch for my legs."

When you step out to go see the puppies, Sam looks at him with a knowing smile. "That was nice of you." - "I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean gets out of the care and stretches his legs, but Sam is quick to follow him. "Dude." He rests his arms Baby's roof and watches Dean stalk around the car. "You never take driving breaks except to take a piss. I've never once seen you 'stretch your legs' before." He puts his hands in the air, miming air-quotes. "So what? I'm sore from the hunt. Son of a bitch had me sprinting." Dean shrugs and leans against the hood of the car, apparently all done with his mini-workout. Sam just smiles that knowing smile again. "Sure. Whatever you say." A couple of minutes later, you return to the car. Your light is not back to full capacity quite yet, but there's color in your cheeks and crinkles by your eyes, leftover from the smile that's still lingering on your lips. "How was it?" Sam asks when you sit down on the backseat. You lean forward and grip the edges of their seat. "So. Many. Puppies," you say in a breathy voice. "Cuteness overload. I think I died and went to heaven for a moment there." Both the brothers chuckle and you settle into your seat while Dean gets Baby back on the road. Sam glances in the rearview mirror and sees you have resumed your position at the window, but you seem more light-weighted than you did just a few minutes ago. Another glance at his big brother and he smiles to himself. Bringing the smile count in the car to three, Dean is wearing his satisfied smile proudly.

From there on, Sam subtly removes himself from your trio now and then. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor they think could help them. During another late night at yet another library, he purposely sits diagonally from you, leaving the chair opposite and next to you open. He offers to get dinner, leaving you and Dean at the motel room the three of you have booked for the night.

Dean doesn't notice. He's too busy finding the balance between what he wants and what he thinks is appropriate. What he wants is you, to be near you, all the time. The light in you is addicting. It's such a stark contrast to everything he's known for most of his life. When his mother passed, the darkness that took over John and consumed him also infected Dean. He did his best to shield his baby brother from it, and sometimes, when he looks at Sam, he can see that his efforts weren't in vain. The youngest Winchester has an optimism about him that Dean never found himself. He's happy for his brother. It's never crossed his mind than in the process of protecting Sam, he never took care of himself. His own twilight never seemed so troublesome, he got used to it after all and eventually knew his way around, the way you can walk through your own house in the pitch-black of night and not knock into anything because you know where everything is placed. He didn't need to light a match or even a candle, it was always just bright enough to make out the outline of the furniture. That is, until he met you, and you shone so bright that, for a brief moment, his insights got illuminated, like the headlights of a passing car briefly dancing across a room at night, and suddenly, the furniture turned from grey to color.

And now he needs more. He didn't know how intoxicating a person could be, until he met you. Suddenly, a lit match isn't enough, neither is a candle. He needs your floodlights, the way a ship needs a beacon. He's drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

And sure, he could live without you. He's lived in the semi-darkness for so long and it's familiar, but now he's seen color, and fuck, he wants it.

But more than that, he wants to be someone for you. He sees what you do for the world and wants to give it back to you, doubled, tripled, quadroupled. He wants to be your someone to have, someone to hold, your somewhere to go when nights get cold. He wants to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

However, wanting one thing and doing it can be two different things at opposite ends of the spectrum. The more he's drawn to you, the less he finds the words to tell you so. 'What if's cross his mind. What if you don't feel the same? What if, by admitting how he feels, he ruins what you guys have? It keeps him up at night while he wishes that he was the reason to keep you up.

It doesn't seem so hopeless, though. From time to time, you give him the smallest look from behind your eyes, and it's almost like you need someone. And every single time, without fail, he thinks that he could be that someone.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find part 2 here! - Masterlist

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: sam winchester was never comfortable with pda, but while on a hunt, sam is shaken with the harsh reality that he's needy, and the only person that can fix it was you.

― warnings: kissing, making out, dry humping, marking, teasing, needy sam winchester.

― wc: 1288

⋆ a/n: more old writing sigh, but i guess i can say i kind of like this one but i kinda didn't know a lot about sam's character when i wrote this because i was only in the earlier seasons then, but now since i've watched the show three times, i feel like i can say that i know his character like the back of my hand!

masterlist | AO3

You had no idea what was up with Sam that day, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He wasn't usually a PDA type of person, opting to keep the kisses pg, meaning only cheek, temple, or forehead kisses. You had no problem with it, because if he wasn't comfortable with doing it out in the open or if he was afraid it would make him look unprofessional, you had no reason to try and push him to do anything he didn't want to.

When the affection happened in private, it just made it all the more special, both of your senses heightened and a lot more pleasurable when you two made love.

You never usually joined the brothers on hunts per Sam's request, only staying behind in the hotel room to offer some emotional support afterwards; but this time, you felt like going on an adventure. Dean was more than happy to humor you, but Sam was a bit more skeptical. He knew that you were your own person, that he truly had no say over what you did, so all the hunter asked was for you to stay close to him; easy enough, right?

At first it was a little difficult seeing how there were many places you three had to go, and it was giving Sam some anxiety, not only that, but he was feeling a type of way that he couldn't put his finger on. He thought it may have been is psychic abilities, but one touch from you and his skin lit on fire, he instantly knew that he was horny. When he got into your shared hotel bed together, his crotch pressed into you full rump, it took every bone in his body to not jump you right then and there, to keep his wondering hands placed tightly in yours.

You could sense something was off with your lovely boyfriend when you had gotten into the Impala, and instead of Sam sitting up front with his brother, he chose to sit in the back with you, one hand on your thigh. You found it a bit strange, but nonetheless welcomed the out of the blue affection. But you didn't welcome it when all of you split to go investigate different parts of an abandoned house, Sam hot on your heels.

As you were turned around, you felt Sam wrap his arms around your waist, his head buried in between your shoulder and your neck.

"Sam?" You questioned, the energy detecting device in your hand slowly lowering. He dragged his large hand down your fluffy stomach, resting it over the zipper of your pants. "Sammy?" You asked again, but this time your voice was higher pitched. He always acted this way when he was needy, but it was never out in the open like this, not when somebody could easily walk in and see your compromising decision.

"I just— I just want you so bad. . . I don't—" Sam rambled, pulling down the zipper of your fly. "You couldn't wait to do this?" You breathed, your head slightly tipping back. "Why did you think I picked the farthest room in the house?" Of course he lead you hear with an ulterior motive, why wouldn't he? He was smart, strategical, and you'd be lying if you said that you were tempted to give in.

"Sam, we can't, I'm sorry." Your hands fell over his sneaky one's, pulling your zipper back up and placing his hands back on your waist. He audibly groaned when you turned around threw your arms around his neck. His pupils were blown out, his expression was that of a kicked puppy. "Baby, you know that I want this as much as you do, I always will, but not in public." You sighed, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "I know. . . Can I— can I just kiss you?" He asked, his hands sliding lower before resting on the swell of your ass.

"Dean's gonna be real mad that we haven't got anything," You teased running your fingers through his hair, but you showed no hostility as his lips ghosted over yours. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. . ." He mumbled, pressing his lips onto yours. It felt so great to kiss you, like your touch was slowly extinguishing the fire that had been burning in his stomach for the past two days. He couldn't help that his palms gripped your ass aggressively, rubbing you crotches together. You moaned quietly into his mouth, Sam hiking up your thigh so that he could get a better angle. His growing erection was pressed against your heated cunt, the friction driving both of you nuts.

"You said only kissing. . ." You breathed against his lips, arousal becoming more prominent in your panties. He only groaned in reply, his head tipping back so that his neck was exposed to you. You attached your lips onto is most sensitive spot located just under his ear, Sam bucking his hips against you. You were muting yourself by making marks that wouldn't easily be seen, but Sam was forced to bite his lower lip to silence himself. The worst part about doing this in not only a potentially haunted house, was that it was extremely empty, sound basically bouncing off the walls. You knew Dean would never allow Sam to live this down if he were to catch the two of you.

The tingling sensation of an orgasm was barely in your grasp, but it was enough to detach yourself from his neck and collarbones, only placing a kiss there which your lipstick left a mark.

"Sam, ____?" Dean called out. "You guys got anything?" Your eyes widened as you pushed Sam off of you, giving him a look of apology. "Uhh— no, there's nothing here!" You shouted back, licking your sleeve and wiping the makeup off his lips. "Alright well I explored all of downstairs and most of the upstairs and I got nothin', so I think we're done here." His voice was a bit closer, but now by a lot. "Okay! So are we gonna go?" You asked, straightening up Sam as he stood there with a stupid smile on his face. "Yeah! I'm goin' to be in the Impala, so you guys better hurry up!" He concluded, his voice growing fainter as he walked back down the stairs."Sam," You growled, "I'm going to kill you." You glared, now wiping off your lips for any smeared product.

"I'm sorry honey, I got a bit carried away." He apologized, but he didn't even sound remotely sorry. You just scoffed, grabbing your things with the intention of leaving. "Sure." He only laughed, following close next to you. "Don't act like you didn't like it," He teased. You only rolled your eyes, but it provoked a small grin on your lips. "Well I hope this'll sedate you until we get back home." You poked, both of you now walking down the old stairs. "Maybe, but seeing how your butt is looking in those jeans, I may be tempted to do it again." You groaned, "I'm going with Dean next time."

As you guys were about to get into the car, your eyes landed on your lipstick mark that you had placed on the side of Sam's neck. You felt your stomach fall into your ass but it was already too late, Sam had gotten into the front seat of the car while you got into the back anxiously. You watched Dean look at Sam's neck before smirking wolfishly, making eye contact with you in the rearview window.

"Looks like you guys got a lot of things done." He said, his voice full of amusement.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[shelbgrey]

✨Pookie😏✨Mother Pinecone🥳✨Fellow Simp🤩✨ can I request some lovely shrexy headcanons for the one and only Sammy Winchester😳 I just need some fluff and steamy steamy spicy headcanons please🥹 I’ll pay😉🫴💰💳💵

Dating Sam Winchester Headcanons:

Paring: Sam Winchester X Singer!Reader

Summary: headcanons about Sam dating Bobby Singer's kid. -SMUT warning!

💚MasterList ML2 💚MoodBoard

Between Sam being John's kid and you being Bobby's, you spent a lot of time together as kids.

You were always closer to Sam, you and him bonded over books and you were both the quiet ones.

It was obvious there was something between you two even when you were kids, but you were both completely clueless.

“the only two people who don't know Sam and y/n like each other are Sam and y/n” - Dean

But then he went off to college, you guys talked through letters and Emails for the first few months. Then he met Jes and you guys talked less and less.

Deep down Sam knew he dated Jess just to get over you, but then he felt awful to think that way after she died.

He never would have expected that you'd show up with Dean, telling him John was missing. Sam honestly hated to see the skilled hunter you have become, he always thought you deserved better.

Deep down he knew he stayed for you. College didn't matter much to him anymore and neither did finding his dad. He rekindled his friendship with you and wanted to protect you.

Hell, he would take you away from the hunting life if he could.

Before you knew it the three of you were a trio again. Saving people and hunting things together.

Then before you knew it you and Sam both fell back in to your original, clueless act you had with each other. It pissed Dean off, because he knew you guys liked each other.

Dean also knew neither one of you had the balls to admit your feelings. So he took matters into his own hands.

“Hey, y/n, you busy Saturday night?” Dean asked one night. “no?”

“Sammy, you sure as hell ain't busy” Dean joked, Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “yeah... I'm not”

“good, because I am... You two go out and have a good time” Dean told you both.

Yeah Dean asked you out on a date for Sam. Both of you had mixed reactions, you didn't know how to proses what what just happened and Sam was just annoyed Dean was getting up in his business. Dean didn't stop you guys from going out.

he is sweet and gentle when he kisses you. The kisses you and him share are always sweet and full of passion. He pours everything into his kisses when his lips are on yours.

He definitely said 'I love you.' he said it after he had to save you from a vampires nest he told you he couldn't lose you and he loves you.

Sam would be the one to encourage you to go on rants or nerd out about things your passionate about. He'll listen beginning to end. If your like: “sorry if I'm talking too much” Sam will say: “no, no, keep going. I'm listening”

Not being stuck in his Tuesday time loop, but helping the best you can.

Sam's Hugs are warm and tight. Since he's so much taller than you he usually picks you up and holds you to his chest as your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck holding him tight.

he promised to himself and you that if you were to get hurt by anything and he did mean anything at all, he would kill it. Even the smallest cut or bruse on you, he would freak out and with a gun in his hand, he would go after the very thing that dared to put a wound on you.

Sex with him has always been on the Adventurous side, but he learns your limits quickly and wouldn't do anything to hurt you. But when soulless Sam shows up there's no slowing down.

Even though Soulless Sam is hot one of the things he cares about most is sex and it might seem that's all he wants at the time, but the moment you get hurt the person or thing that hurt you is in a heaping pile of blood and broken bones.

Research dates all the time, you think it's boring as hell but your happy just to he able to spend time with him.

He's a health nut so he's always getting on to you and dean about your eating habits. “you know those things could kill you, right?” Sam asks as he watches you drink a monster energy drink, you'll just shrug him off.

You appreciate his concerns and you do back off on some stuff and let him cook you a healthy meal.

“what is that?” you asked staring at the blender in Discussed. “it's a smoothy, its good for you” he said pouring you a cup. “it's green goop”

✨Forehead kisses✨ he's a giant after all, so it's easier and convenient to just give you a little kiss on the forehead. He also loves it when your setting in his lap and giving him the same treatment.

Matching bracelets. Jack went through a friendship bracelet making phase and you made a couple with him. You and Sam both have one, he refuses to take it off. “you don't have to wear it”

“no, I'm gonna wear it forever. Back off”

You and Sam are literally Jack's parents, you probably end up adopting him at some point.

Never giving up on getting him out of hell, you hated the fact Dean when to live with Lisa. So while he got a girlfriend you were threatening crossroad demons for awnsers.

Making dirty jokes with Dean all the time to annoy Sam.

If Dean pranks Sam, you'll help get back at Dean. One time you convinced Sam to have sex in the impala just to piss Dean off.

Lucifer has the undying love for you and hits on you all the time, it pisses Sam off to no end.

Getting to see Sully first hand because he knew how much Sam ment to you and Sully just really wanted to meet the person that made Sam so happy.

Jody being a mother to you.

He absolutely loves feeling your fingers run through his hair. He'll kill to have his head on your cheat while you play with his hair after a rough hunt.

If your a smut book you get really secretive about and he'll notice quickly. “What you reading?” you blush and hold the book away from him. “nothing”

If he gets a hold of the book and reads a steamy part if the book, he'll probably want to try what he read too.

This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.

He wants to hold your hand all the time too, if your walking around the bunker or a town your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had while doing research.

Communication won't be a problem in your relationship. You both just find it so easy to talk to each other.

But if you get into a fight, your fight loud and mean. There will be the silent treatment.

He's a bed hog so get used to sleeping right on top of him or right up against him because there's no room for personal space when you share a bed, especially if it's a motel bed.

He also hogs blankets.

You have bad sex in the bunker library, do with that information as you will.

You steal his flannels all the time, they're just so big and comfy.

He's good at turning you on😏

NSFW headcanons:

Sammy has a size kink, he loves the fact you are shorter than him. It makes it easier for him to manhandle you and throw you around without even trying.

likes to pretty much fuck you stupid. like to the point your shaking, you only can think of his dick and babbling his name. you probably won't be walking the next morning.

he's ✨skilled✨ with his hands, those big massive hands. it doesn't matter what he's doing with them, in between your legs, your face, around your neck, in your hair, I don't matter he knows what he's doing.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

He didn't realize how much he actually liked it untill you started pulling on his hair while he was eating you out. “Damn... Do that again... Please”

Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.

But he also lives for the moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.

He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.

He well bend you over the table in the bunker library and take you from behind.

The desk will creak from the force he uses and his large body will presse you hard against the desk.

He loves hearing the moans and gasps coming out of your mouth.

Part of him will want you to be louder, even though he knew you aren't supposed to be sometimes.

He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.

Sam loves being dominate towards you. Choking you and edging you. “come on, Baby. Cum for me again”

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

“that’s it baby, there you go. takining me so well, honey.”

Sam loves the way his hands look on your body. Even better if you’re smaller than him, he just wants to be touching you all the fucking time.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.

Sam first thought after sex he's always checking on you, making sure it felt good and your not sore. He is very gentle, cleaning you up and giving you anything you need before even thinking of himself.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Safety First

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you get kidnapped, and the boys have to find a way to find you

Warnings: hurt feelings, reader gets drugged, kidnapped, and injured (slightly). Panic attack, angst with a happy ending

“Dean.” Your voice was thick with sleep as the Impala approached a bar late at night. “Why aren’t we going to the motel?”

“I want to stop in here first,” Dean grumbled. The day of driving had worn him down, and he’d been a bit grumpy for the past few hours. “Maybe we’ll find someone who saw something.”

“It’s late,” you complained. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? I mean, we already know that it’s probably vampires.”

“I’m not gonna take a chance on that just so you can go to sleep,” Dean snapped. “We can’t ever afford to be stupid with this job, you know that. Stay in the car if you want.”

And Dean was out of the car before Sam could tell him off for being a jerk.

“He’s just tired,” Sam offered lamely. “Why don’t you come in and get a soda or something, this shouldn’t take long,” he added, but he didn’t wait for a response as he followed Dean into the bar.

You swallowed a few times to try to lessen the lump in your throat as you climbed out of the car. You wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold air bit into your skin, cursing yourself for even opening your mouth. How could you be selfish like that when people were dying? Hadn’t dad and Dean always told you the hunt came first, especially when innocent people were in danger?

“We can’t ever afford to be stupid with this job.”

Dean was right—you were stupid, and now Dean thought you cared more about sleep than about being safe for the hunt.

You shuffled your way into the bar, trying to keep yourself from crying while also trying to convince yourself that Dean was just grumpy, and he would forget about your complaining before the night was even out. You didn’t want him to think that you were selfish or stupid.

You almost didn’t noticed when you entered the bar, except for the fact that you smacked face-first into someone’s chest.

“S-sorry,” you muttered, feeling worse than ever as you tried to squeeze around the poor person that you had just barreled into.

“No problem,” a honey-sweet voice tickled your ears as a kind face came into your view. A dark-haired man with a smile just as sweet as his voice was looking down at you. “I like your shirt,” he added.

“Oh…thanks,” you said, the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, your gloomy mood lifting just a little. It was your favorite shirt, and any compliment right now helped your low spirits.

“You look like you’re having a rough night. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, um…” your senses were suddenly raised. Who was this guy, and what did he want? You were obviously underage, so why…

“A soda,” he added quickly, sensing your unease. “I’m sorry, I must seem like kind of a creeper, it’s just…it’s not very common to see a kid in here—in fact, I’m surprised you got let in—and I want to make sure you’re ok. Are you…ok?”

You felt yourself relaxing just a bit—this was just a nice stranger concerned about a kid in a bar. Maybe your hunter’s sense wasn’t as good as you thought, and you’d just been nervous for nothing.

“I’m ok. My brothers are…around here somewhere. But I’d love a soda.”

“Great!” The man led you through the crowd of drunk adults and to a barstool. “A soda and a beer, please,” he said to the bartender, who glanced at you for a long moment before turning to get the drinks.

The dark haired man passed you your drink when the bartender placed it in front of him, and once you had it you found suddenly that you didn’t know what to do or say. You didn’t know anything about this guy, and you couldn’t really tell him anything about you, so what were you supposed to say? You took a long sip of your drink, trying to make the silence seem comfortable.

“Do your brothers take you to bars often?” The man asked, a hint of humor in his voice trying to mask obvious concern.

“Only when we go somewhere new,” you said, trying not to lie but also trying not to alarm the man. “I guess they think it’s a good way to meet new people.” You took another long sip, hoping that the man wouldn’t start to ask any hard questions. You didn’t want to lie to this kind stranger.

But he didn’t ask any more questions—which was good, because your exhaustion seemed to be catching up to you again. You found yourself struggling to lift your eyelids, and after a few unintentionally long blinks you began to look around for your brothers. You spotted Dean in a corner, and you were about to slide off your seat and go to him when you remembered what he’d said.

“I’m not gonna take a chance on that just so you can go to sleep.”

You would just have to force yourself to stay awake…

But for some reason, you couldn’t, and the harder you tried the more you felt your whole body starting to sag, drooping down like a melting ice cream cone.

Hands suddenly caught you under your arms as you slipped off your chair, and you vaguely registered that it was the dark haired stranger. You tried to speak, but your mouth was just too numb—it felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and even though you got your jaw to open, you couldn’t force any sound out.

Between sleepy blinks, your eyes found those of the dark haired man. You couldn’t quite tell because of the fog in your mind, but as you finally lost your grip on consciousness you could swear that the eyes that met yours were pitch black…

…

“Sam.” Sam turned to see his older brother behind him, glancing around the bar. “It’s time to go. Where’s Y/N?”

“She came in right behind me, I thought she went to find you,” Sam offered as he joined Dean in the glancing search.

“What? No I thought she was with you,” Dean replied, looking suddenly more panicked.

“Alright, I’ll check this half, you look over there,” Sam said, trying to ebb his rising fear.

Twenty minutes later, they still couldn’t find you. Sam had even sent some woman into the women’s bathroom to look for you, with no results. Dean got the same lack of you when he went to search the Impala.

“Do you think she ran off?” Dean voiced the concern that had been nagging his mind since the moment he couldn’t find you. “I…I didn’t mean to snap at her like that, really.”

“She wouldn’t have left because of that,” Sam assured him, having thought of the same thing. “You hurt her, I do know that, but she wouldn’t have run.”

Dean cringed at Sam’s words.

“I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

“Kind of,” Sam sighed. “You can apologize if we find her.”

“When we find her,” Dean corrected harshly, hoping that he was right.

…

Pain pounded behind your eyes before you even opened them. Once you did lift your eyelids, it took you several long, panicky seconds before you could even tell the difference between opened and closed.

It was nearly pitch black around you, with only vague shapes making themselves known in the darkness. The floor was rough and scratchy beneath you, and it was cold to the touch when you put your hands down to push yourself up. You only made it halfway to your feet before an unexpected force biting into your wrist held you down, and the shock of it dropped you back to your knees. The rattle of chains accompanied your fall.

“Hello?” Your voice echoed off stone walls, tinny and weak. No reply came.

You tugged at the chain on your wrist, and found that it only allowed about a couple feet of clearance, which was why you could barely stand with it attached to the floor.

The weight of your situation hit you at the same time as your memory…

The man—the demon!—from the bar. He must’ve slipped something into your drink, and now who knew where you were?

“Help!” You cried out between your sudden panicked gasps of breath. You rubbed at your chest as it began to tighten in fear. “Somebody help me, please!”

Your voice bounced uselessly off the walls, your own desperation mocking you as it reverberated back to your ears.

A harsh scraping preceded a sudden burst of light as a door you hadn’t been able to see against the far wall started to open.

“She’s awake!” The kind voice didn’t sound so kind anymore, and the gentle features were twisted into a sickening smirk. “And how is our little visitor?” The dark haired demon stepped into your cell, and the light pouring in through the open door allowed you to see his raven black eyes.

“Where am I?” You demanded. “What do you want?”

“Both of those questions are on a need to know basis, and you don’t,” the man responded, chuckling cruelly.

“It’s not gonna work,” you insisted. “It-it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, because my brothers—“

The stinging pain of a strong hand against your face stopped your threats. The man moved so quickly that you had barely even seen him step towards you before he’d swung, slapping you backwards so that the back of your head slammed against the stone wall and your wrist was stopped painfully by the chain around in. You staggered forwards, tasting blood and trying to get the rusted chain to settle at a different part of your wrist—one not cut from the abuse it had suffered.

“You talk too much,” the man growled. “Try to threaten me again, and you’ll get a lot worse.”

You didn’t speak as the man pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and dialed. After a moment, he spoke.

“Hello, Winchesters. Now now, there’s no need for threats, I just want to chat. I found your little sister, you see, and I’d like to give her back. However, I’ve hit a problem; you boys have been sniffing around where you shouldn’t. You’re in the wrong town, and I want you to leave. As soon as we know you’re gone, we’ll take this little brat of yours and put her on a bus, and she’ll be back to you safe and sound. If not…well, we’ll be shipping her in a tiny little box instead.”

You found yourself sinking to your knees as the demon talked to one of your brothers, exhausted from the pounding in your head and weak from fear.

“Oh?” The man’s tone suddenly changed, and you found yourself trying to melt into the shadows as you shrunk away from him. “You want proof, huh?” He pulled the phone away from his face, and suddenly his black eyes were on you. “Your big brothers don’t believe that you’re here. How about we fix that?” Almost before you could blink, your arm was twisted behind your back and the demon was yanking you to your feet. He twisted you around and shoved you face-first against the stone wall. The wall was just barely too far away from the chain around your wrist, but the force of the demon’s blow had your wrist twisting at an odd angle against the chain, and it was enough for your nose to crash against the rough stone.

The cry of pain left you before you could even think to stifle it. You could barely hear the muffled protests of your brothers on the phone before the demon put the phone back to his ear and spoke again.

“Now, was that enough or do I need to get some real screams from her?…Thats what I thought. Be out of town by tonight, or…well, you already know.”

The demon threw the phone against the wall, and it shattered. He was out the door by the time the last broken piece hit the floor, and a moment later the door swung shut and you were once again plunged into darkness.

…

“Did you track it?” Dean asked, waiting with bated breath for his little brother’s response.

“Yes.” Sam took a deep breath. “Dean, are you sure about this? Maybe if we leave, she’ll be safer.”

Dean shook his head.

“It’s a demon, Sam. He’s not going to let her go, he’s gonna kill her. We have to do this, we have to save her.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed. “Alright, let’s go.” He watched Dean for a moment before speaking again. “Are you ok?”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“The last thing I said to her—“

“Don’t,” Sam snapped. “Don’t do that to yourself. We’re going to find her, and you’re going to apologize to her. That’s not gonna be the last thing you said to her, because we’re going to get her back.”

“She just wanted to go to sleep,” Dean muttered, not listening to Sam. “If we hadn’t gone into that bar—if I had just listened to her—“

“Dean, stop. We’re going to save her. I know we will.”

…

You hadn’t realized how dark it was, or how much you’d appreciated the light from the open door, until you lost it. Your breaths came up shallow and unsatisfying as you cradled your dislocated wrist to your chest. You curled your knees under you, folding in on yourself as you hyperventilated. You closed your eyes tightly and tried to imagine that your big brothers were here—like they were the last time you’d had a panic attack.

You were on a hunt, and a vampire had knocked you to the floor before jumping on top of you and biting into your neck. You shrieked and struggled as the pain flooded your system.

Dean arrived almost immediately, but he couldn’t get a clear shot to lob the vamp’s head off without risking slicing your throat. He dropped his machete and tried to wrench the vampire away from you, but it was no use until Sam was able to join him and together the two of them tore the vampire away. Once he was off, it took a simple swing from Dean to take care of him.

You were lying on the floor, lifting your head away from the pool of blood that now covered the floor.

“Dean,” you whimpered as your breathing shallowed. You gingerly touched your neck, panicking even more when you noticed that the bleeding wouldn’t stop. “Dean!” You cried out again, terrified as your throat constricted from your panic and your head spun from the blood loss.

“Hey, hey.” Dean’s hands were on your face, cradling it gently as his green eyes danced in front of you. “You’ve gotta breathe baby, just breathe.”

“I’ve got you.” You felt Sam’s arms around your shoulder as he helped you into a more comfortable sitting position and supported you up. “Breathe with me, ok? In…out…in…”

With Sam counting off your breaths and Dean repeating. “You’re ok sweetheart, you’re safe, you’re safe,” you were slowly able to breathe through your panic attack.

But you didn’t have Sam or Dean now, and you couldn’t seem to grab hold of a single comforting thought as you sobbed and choked over each breath, unable to get air in, and unable to stop panicking about the lack of air.

The sound of the door opening and the blinding light that came with it barely registered as you rocked back and forth on your knees. That is, until you were suddenly yanked to your feet and a pair of black eyes were staring into yours.

“Guess who just didn’t leave town,” he taunted, and it was then that you saw the gleaming knife gripped in his hand. “And guess who’s gonna pay for it.”

“You are.” Your brain had barely registered the sound of your big brother’s voice before the black-eyed man’s eyes glowed yellow, then dimmed as he slumped to the floor, dead. “Hey sweetheart.” Dean stood behind where the demon had just been, blood dripping off the demon blade in his hand.

“Dean.” Your breathing had evened a little, but you were still crying as you reached out for your big brother. Your arm was stopped by the chain as Dean stepped over the demon’s body and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding! Are you—“ Dean’s eyes landed on the cuffs, and he quickly pulled out a lock pick and got to work on it. As soon as you were free, you tried to wrap your arms around Dean, but he kept his hands on your shoulders as he surveyed your injuries.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “I’m-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was a demon, I didn’t—“

“Hey, hey…” Dean soothed. “None of this was your fault, not one bit. You’re safe now, I’m gonna get you home.”

“Hey kiddo,” Sam’s voice in the doorway turned your attention. “Ohh you’re safe,” Sam breathed in relief as he pulled you into his arms.

“Sammy,” you sobbed as you gripped onto his arm with one hand, holding your injured wrist close to your chest to protect it.

“Are you hurt?” Dean was still tugging at your shoulder, trying to assess your injuries. He stopped his tugging when he heard your whimpers and saw you trying to burrow closer to Sam. “Hey, you ok?”

“I-I thought he…I thought he was gonna…he…” you couldn’t seem to voice the fears that flooded your mind and stopped your breath.

“I’ve got you.” Sam’s arms tightened around you. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, you’re ok…you’re ok.”

“Commere.” Dean wrapped you in his arms when Sam pulled away to make sure no demons were coming. “I’m gonna get you home—you’re ok now, I swear.”

Sam and Dean led you out of your cell and out towards the Impala, Dean’s arm wrapped around you the whole way. As soon as you were in the Impala, Dean had your arm in his hand as he inspected your wrist.

“Dislocated,” he decided. “I’m gonna have to…”

“Just do it,” you sniffled, shutting your eyes tightly.

“I’ll do it,” Sam volunteered, glancing at Dean. The two of them had a psychic moment before Sam took your small wrist delicately in his big hands and Dean crouched in front of you.

“Are you gonna start making stupid jokes?” You asked, already smiling as Dean grinned.

“C’mon now, you love my jokes,” Dean said. “Now, a priest and a demon walk into a bar—“

Dean’s goofy grin and cocky attitude already had you giggling when Sam’s fingers suddenly stiffened on your wrist and he twisted it into place.

You hissed in pain, cringing.

“I know, I know,” Sam soothed, pulling you into his arms. “I know, you’re ok now.”

“Let me get the rest of you cleaned up,” Dean said, gesturing at the scratches on your face and the blood across your lips and chin from your nose.

Sam pulled away as Dean took a first aid kit out of the trunk. Dean glanced sideways at Sam, who took the cue and slipped into the passengers seat to give you at least the semblance of privacy.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “For what I said to you, how I acted…and for letting you get taken.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you sniffled as Dean rubbed antiseptic against your cuts. “I should’ve known he was a demon, I should’ve—“

“No,” Dean interrupted. “No, don’t do that. I should’ve been watching out for you, I—“

“Ok, enough!” Sam interrupted, shattering the illusion that he wasn’t listening. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. You’re ok now, and that’s all I care about.”

“I thought you wanted me to apologize,” Dean argued as a smile slowly crept onto his lips. Sam shook his head, unable to fight the lightheartedness that was creeping into the conversation. He chuckled—

“I wanted you to apologize for being a jerk, you idiot, not to have a fight about whose fault this was.”

You started to laugh, brushing the tears off your cheeks as you smiled. Dean turned to look at you, the grin still etched on his face.

“Commere you,” he said, pulling you back into his arms. “Sam’s right, I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Me too,” you mumbled into his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms. Sam reached back, ruffling your hair.

“Me three.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

[queen-of-deans-booty]

On The Run

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: angst, fearing for your life

Summary: You’re on the run from someone very dangerous. You’re always looking over your shoulder, fearful that he is going to be right there and drag you back into Hell. You have a son to protect and you’ll do anything to make sure he is safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself.

Square Filled: silence (2021) for @spndarkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been ten minutes since you got the call, and you’re doing your best to pack whatever you and your son might need. He’s still sleeping since it’s three in the morning, but you’re running around your room throwing things in your suitcase--only the things you absolutely need. Everything else can be replaced later. Once you’re done with your suitcase, you walk into your son’s room to pack his suitcase.

Your son is a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t wake as you’re packing his suitcase, but he does wake when you scoop him into your arms.

“What’s going on, Mommy?” he asks sleepily.

“We’re going to live with Aunt Kathy for a while.”

“Why?”

“We’re going on a trip. Just you and me. We need to go now.”

“I’m tired,” he whines.

“Let me just get you into the car and you can sleep, baby.”

You keep your son propped up on your hip while grabbing both suitcases. You rush out to the car and place your son in his car seat before shoving the suitcases in the back. Tyler immediately falls asleep, and you rush back into the house for a last-minute grab. Inside the closet is a safe that contains the most important things you’ll ever own, and you punch in the code and rip the door open. You grab important documents and your gun with special bullets. There is only one thing left in there, and the shiny diamond shines brightly. It pains you to think about what this ring means but you can’t leave this behind.

There is a sliver of hope that everything is going to be fine which is why you can’t leave it behind. You take the ring, head back out to the car, and get in. You pull away from the house you once loved and start the five-hour drive to your sister’s house. When you get to the freeway, your phone rings to let you know you have a text message.

Unknown: Lay low for a few days. I’ll come get you and bring you somewhere where he can’t find you.

You let out a shaky breath and look at your son through the rearview mirror. Tyler is your entire world. You can’t let anything happen to him. You moving to your sister’s house and eventually a new safe location is what’s best for him even if he doesn’t see it.

It’s early when you get to your sister’s house, but you called her right after dawn to let her know you were coming. Tyler and your sister’s kids get along great, so he is happy to play with his cousins while you and your sister sit outside to discuss what’s going on.

“You know I’m happy to have you, but what’s going on? What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“He’s back, and he’s coming for us.”

“You came here?” Kathy sighs. “I love you and Tyler, and I’ll always want to help, but you’re putting my kids at risk.”

“I know but it’s only for a few days. Sam is gonna come get us and bring us somewhere else when he can.”

Kathy pauses and thinks about your words.

“Do you think he’ll find you here?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. He never knew where you lived before, so I don’t think so.”

“Fine, you can stay for a few days. I still have the salt and iron plus that demon knife you made me.”

“I wish that would help. All of that would only piss him off.”

“What will kill him?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. Kathy isn’t happy about any of this, and you feel terrible for bringing her in the middle of your shit. “I didn’t know where else to go, Kathy. My son is in danger.”

“I know,” she whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

The first two days go by without any issues. Tyler loves spending time with his cousins and staying up late with them while you’re crying yourself to sleep every night. Another day goes by without a single word from Sam, and you’re starting to get concerned. If he says he’ll get you in a few days, best believe he’ll keep true to his word. What if something happened to him?

What if he got to him?

On the fourth day, you’re home alone with Tyler while your sister is out with her kids for a doctor’s appointment. Tyler is watching cartoons and coloring while you’re folding laundry in the living room. It’s not extremely dark outside but it is dark enough to have light on inside the house. Normally, you’d open the curtains and allow the sunlight to light up the rooms. However, the sun is inching closer to the horizon so the curtains are closed and the lights are on.

Tyler giggles at something SpongeBob does when the TV turns off. In fact, all of the lights turn off. The smile on your face from hearing your son laugh is now wiped off as dread creeps up your spine. Every single hair on the back of your neck stands up because you know he found you.

He’s here.

“Mommy?”

“Tyler, come on.” You grab Tyler’s hand and pull him up the stairs. The house isn’t completely dark but it’s not super light either. You tug Tyler to Kathy’s bedroom and pull him into her closet before shutting the door. “I need you to be extra quiet, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?”

“Yes.”

The entire house falls into a deadly silence. The fear of the unknown makes you want to cry but you cannot give your position away. It’s foolish to think that he won’t be able to find you but you’re holding onto that sliver of hope. You pull Tyler close to you and run your hands through his hair to try and calm yourself down.

“Tyler,” his voice drawls from the staircase. You close your eyes and try your best not to let the tears fall. “Tyler, you in here?”

“You’re doing so good, baby. Keep being quiet,” you whisper into his ear.

His heavy footsteps climb up the stairs slowly. You know he’s stomping just so you can hear where he is. He stops at the top of the stairs, walks toward Kathy’s bedroom, and opens the door. It creaks slightly and you shake in fear.

“Tyler, I have candy. It’s your favorite. Come on, buddy, don’t you want Kit-Kats?”

Your son gasps happily at the thought of munching on the sweet treat.

“No, don’t do it,” you whisper. “Don’t move.”

“Tyler, come on out. I have five big chocolate bars for you. Don’t you want a treat?” Tyler squirms out of your arms and runs out of the closet toward his father. The tears fall down knowing you’ve been found, and you take out your phone with shaky hands. “Hey, buddy. Good boys get candy. Now, where’s Mommy?”

“In the closet!”

Shit. You struggle to unlock your phone and pull up the phone app when you finally get it unlocked. You’re in the middle of dialing Sam’s number when the closet door opens. You look up at the man you once loved with all your heart.

“I found you, baby.” Dean kneels down, plucks your phone out of your hand, and slides it into his pocket. “Sam isn’t coming. He sent me instead.”

He reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you fight the urge to sob. His eyes flash from beautiful forest green to dark-as-the-night black. Dean used to be the love of your life until he died and became the thing from your worst nightmare. He took care of you and Tyler until his dying breath, and now he’s back with a vengeance.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me? Good girls get candy.”

“Fuck off,” you spit. “Just leave us alone.”

Dean’s look hardens and he wraps his hand around your throat. He doesn't squeeze but he makes sure you understand the threat.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband. You wouldn’t want Tyler to see Mommy and Daddy fighting, would you?”

You’re trapped. You don’t know how you’ll be able to escape. You did it before when he was in that dead state. Sam got you and Tyler the hell out of dodge as soon as Dean died. The tears fall as you shake your head, and Dean smirks, returning his eyes back to their green color.

“Good girl. Come on out. We have a lot to discuss.”

x

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[fanfictionalraven]

Sleep Without You

Title: Sleep Without You

Song Inspiration: Sleep Without You by Brett Young

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen, Mary, Jody, Donna, Charlie

Word Count: 2,082

Warnings: Reader gets drunk, fluff

Author’s Note: This story is not canon compliant because I prefer my characters alive and happy.

“Do not make us come in there and take her, Dean,” Jody says through your bedroom door. You throw your head back and laugh from where you’re standing over the bathroom sink. Dean rolls his eyes from where he’d been watching you get ready. He walks over to the door and pulls it open with a dramatic huff.

“I’m not holding her hostage,” he tells the small group of women he finds waiting. Jody looks past him and you stick your head out of the bathroom.

“I’m almost ready. Sorry,” you apologize. Donna looks between the two of you suspiciously.

“There was definitely some hanky-panky going on here,” she says. Dean rolls his eyes again and walks back over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. You laugh but blush despite yourself. She wasn’t wrong. The second Dean had seen you in the little red dress, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Honestly, I’ll meet you at the car in five minutes,” you tell them. Eileen laughs and nudges the two other women down the hall, sending a wink back at you before she disappears herself. You quickly slip into a strappy pair of matching red heels and can feel Dean’s eyes still on you. “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything!!” He says, defensively.

“No, but you’re thinking about it,” you laugh. Standing to your full height, you hold your arms out and turn in a slow circle. “Alright. How do I look?”

“Too damn good,” he compliments. You smile as you step over to him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Don’t get to see you all dolled up like this too often. Without it being for a case at least.”

“I know. This is actually so…normal,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “A bachelorette party.”

“Can’t believe they’re actually getting married,” Dean muses.

“Little Sammy’s all grown up,” you tease, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Least this time he got my blessing.” You laugh and shake your head. “You should go before the search party comes back.” Leaning down, you give him a quick kiss.

“Don’t wait up,” you tell him. He laughs lightly and gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t party too hard,” he says. You can’t help but laugh again.

“The party consists of the bride-to-be, myself, your mother, two officers of the law who might as well be your mother and your aunt, and a lesbian. I make no promises,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. He gives you a smile and shakes his head.

“Sammy and I will work on the bail money,” he jokes.

“Much appreciated,” you laugh and take a step back for him to stand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you tenderly. The two of you stand there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Y/N!” Mary calls your name as she comes down the hallway.

“Whoops! They sent the big guns this time,” you say, stepping away from Dean. He laughs as he follows you to the door and leans against the frame, crossing his arms.

“Be careful. Have fun,” he says as Mary takes you by the elbow. You wink back at Dean and give him a wave as you stumble along behind his mother.

***

“Don’t wait up.”

Those had been your instructions to Dean. He had tried to follow them. He knew you all would be out late so he made a valiant effort to turn in for the night around 12:30. The scent of your shampoo on the pillow next to him was too much to bear.

At 12:35, he made his way back to the library and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Sitting back in one of the chairs, he pulls his phone out and smiles at the picture of you grinning back at him.

At 12:40, Sam wanders back into the library. He pauses when he sees his older brother. Dean looks up at him and chuckles.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He asks. Sam shakes his head as he walks over and sits across from Dean who pours a second glass. “What was it for you?” Sam swirls the glass slowly and cuts his eyes up at his brother.

“She usually plays with my hair while I go to sleep,” he admits, a bit embarrassed. Dean smiles and shakes his head, taking a drink. “You?”

“Pillow smelled too damn much like her,” he says, as though it were completely obvious. Now it’s Sam’s turn to shake his head.

“What happened to us?” He laughs. Dean shrugs, glancing back at his phone screen. “I mean…I’m getting married in a couple weeks. What?”

“Nah. I always saw that for you,” Dean says, looking at his younger brother. Sam gives him a skeptical look. Dean shrugs in response. “Hoped for it at least. You deserve it.”

“Just not with Becky?” Sam asks, trying not to smile.

“Eileen is a much better choice. Hands down,” Dean laughs. Sam laughs as well.

The two brothers sit in silence for a little while, each taking sips from their respective glasses. Sam watches his brother pour himself another glass before finally speaking again.

“You deserve it too, ya know,” Sam says simply. Dean looks at him curiously. “Your relationship with Y/N. Being happy and…and loved.”

“I haven’t done a thing to deserve Y/N loving me the way she does,” he says. Sam frowns but Dean gives him a smile. “And yet she keeps on doing it anyways.”

“I understand that,” Sam agrees, raising his glass slightly. Another silent moment passes as Sam gathers the courage to ask his next question. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Marriage,” Sam says, making some elaborate, grand gesture with his hands. Dean laughs at Sam’s awkwardness and looks into his glass again.

“I was about ready to ask Mom for her ring but, ugh…someone beat me to it,” he says, smiling at Sam now. Sam’s eyes widen quickly.

“Oh!! Dean, I’m sorry,” he rattles off quickly. Dean laughs and holds a hand up.

“It’s fine. You got to it first, fair and square,” he says, standing and walking across the library. He stops at a lockbox sitting on one of the shelves and quickly puts in a combination. Sam watches his brother, curiously, as Dean removes something from the box. “Had to hustle a hell of a lot of pool but…” He walks back to his seat and holds up a simple but beautiful diamond ring. Sam stares it for a moment before looking at his brother, wide eyed.

“How long have you had that?” He asks. Dean shrugs, examining the ring between his fingers.

“Bought it about two weeks after you asked Eileen,” Dean recounts. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. Almost asked Mom, like I said. I just wasn’t sure if Y/N would go for it. What we have now is one thing. Marriage is whole other one. Then when you asked Eileen…I could see it in her eyes.”

“That was months ago. Why haven’t you asked her yet?” Sam questions.

“Didn’t wanna feel like I was just copying you or trying to steal anyone’s thunder,” Dean explains, going back to the box. “I’ll give it a little time. Let you and Eileen have your moment. Then I’ll ask.”

“Neither of us would care. We’d be thrilled for you both,” Sam tells him. Dean smiles and shrugs, putting the ring away again. He closes the box and relocks it.

“I’ve waited this long. A few more weeks won’t hurt,” Dean says. Sam smiles a little and nods as Dean comes back to his seat. Dean stretches and looks at his phone again. “Now, the real question…is when are you two gonna make me an uncle?” Sam sputters on his drink, quickly setting the glass down. Dean roars with laughter as the door to the war room opens up.

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play…and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate…but I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake…shake it off, shake it off…” You, Eileen, and Charlie all come in singing together, arms around each other. You all three stumble through a few very uncoordinated hip shimmies.

“Dear God. They are wasted,” Dean laughs. Mary runs around in front of your small choir and heads you off at the stairs.

“A little help?” She calls down to her sons. The two brothers get up quickly and make their way up the stairs. Sam wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and starts to help her down the stairs as she giggles. Mary assists Charlie who grips the handrail as the room starts to spin on her. You cross your arms as Dean comes over to you.

“I told you not to wait up,” you scold him. He laughs and shakes his head, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I tried, promise. Turns out I just can’t sleep without my girl,” he says, pulling you closer quickly. You let out a squeal as you stumble and fall into him. Before you have a second to process what’s happening, Dean scoops you up into his arms and starts to carry you down the stairs.

“I could have walked,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck. He rolls his eyes at your protest.

“You wouldn’t have made it two steps,” he teases. “I’ll put you down if you want.”

“No!!” You exclaim, tightening your arms slightly. He laughs and nods.

“That’s what I thought.”

“These three,” Mary says, pointing between all three of you. “Are not allowed to go out drinking again.”

“Herding cats?” Sam asks. Mary scoffs a laugh.

“Cats would have been easier,” she says. Dean looks down at you and smirks.

“Did you not behave for Mom?” He asks. Your shoulders bob up and down as you smile at him coyly.

“Why? You gonna punish me?” You ask with a wink.

“Oh my God,” Mary mutters, quickly leading a still dizzy Charlie towards the hall. Dean laughs wildly as he goes to follow.

“You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” he says. He glances back at Sam and finds Eileen gently running her fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight, little brother.” Sam looks up at him and smiles.

“You too.”

Dean carries you down to your bedroom and tosses you on to the bed, eliciting another squeal from you. You kick off your heels as he goes through the dresser, finding one of his old t-shirts you’d claimed ages ago. He helps you change out of your dress and into the shirt with ease. You fall back onto the bed with a huff and close your eyes.

“Hold on,” Dean says, going into the bathroom. He comes back out a second later with a makeup wipe and sits next to you on the bed. You giggle as he gently and carefully wipes your makeup away. “What’s so funny?”

“Big, bad, monster-killing, Dean Winchester is taking my makeup off for me,” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“You’d be pissed in the morning if you woke up with all this still on,” he says. He takes extra care around your eyes before finally finishing. “There.” He tosses the wipe into a nearby trash can.

Dean lays down on the bed next to you and you immediately roll over to face him, moving into his side. He lays an arm across your waist, pulling you even closer. Kissing your hair, he breathes in your scent and sighs. You giggle again.

“What now?” He asks.

“You love me,” you say. Dean laughs softly and nods, pushing your hair from your face.

“Yea, I do,” he agrees. You break into a wide grin as you close your eyes. “In fact, I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.” You giggle again and nod.

“I get to be the bachelorette next time,” you say. He laughs again and kisses your forehead.

“Mom’s gonna be thrilled.”

The next morning, Dean has aspirin and water ready by the bed for you when you wake up. You remember nothing from the majority of the night before, especially anything from when you all returned to the bunker. But when you catch the bouquet at Sam and Eileen’s wedding and see the look on Dean’s face, a fragment of a conversation comes back to you.

I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

[morganwrites12672]

Abandon

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After the worst fight he's ever had with his father, Sam goes to the only person he can for comfort.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: ANGST. John is a piece of shit. Arguing. Crying. Daddy issues.

A/N: Have fun crying!

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Whenever Sam had finally gotten back from visiting her, he hadn't expected Dean and John to be waiting up for him in the small living room of the motel. He awkwardly shrugged off his jacket before tossing it over the back of the couch.

He could feel his father's eyes burning into his skin. John must be pissed off about something. It seemed like Sam couldn't do anything without upsetting the older man. His good mood vanished.

"You have something you want to tell me?" John asked, and Sam just knew. He knew exactly what John meant. There was nothing else that would have his father looking this pissed.

Sam swallowed thickly, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked between Dean and John. John looked pissed, his fists clenched, his jaw tight. Dean looked different. He looked almost happy, he looked satisfied. A smug smirk tugged at Dean's lips.

Dean was convinced that John was going to fix everything. He thought that his father would be able to fix this. Once all of this was over, Sam would stay. Everything would work out. If only Dean didn't put so much blind trust into his father. Maybe then he would have realized what would actually happen.

"No sir."

Sam knew that his father wouldn't be satisfied with this response. No, the older man would be pissed off. Nothing Sam said would make it right. No matter what he did his father would still probably lose his shit. This was going to be an argument from Hell.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" John growled. He pulled something out of his pocket, a letter. Not just any letter though. The letter. Sam's acceptance letter for Stanford.

"How-" Sam didn't get to finish his sentence.

"You applied for Stanford," John said. It was a statement, not a question. The evidence was quite literally being gripped in John's hand.

Sam's nerves coiled in his gut, ready to explode. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. This argument was the very thing that Sam had wanted to avoid at all costs. He wasn't quite sure how he had planned to avoid it though. Telling John might have made it better rather than the older man figuring it out, or being told by someone else.

"I'm going," Sam blurted, standing up a little straighter. He wouldn't keep letting his father walk all over him. He would go to Stanford. After everything he had sacrificed for other people, he would do this for himself. Hunting could wait a few years.

"I just want to-" For the second time that night, John cut Sam off.

"Like hell you are! I won't let you abandon this family," John snapped as he stood. He slammed the letter down onto the table. He couldn't believe the way Sam was speaking. "Would you really do that? Would you really abandon your brother and I?"

"No. Dad listen, I am going to Stanford!" Sam shouted back at John. He wasn't abandoning Dean or his father. No, he was just trying to go to college.

"It's that damn whore," John sneered. It didn't matter that he was talking about his friends daughter, he was also talking about the girl who he thought had been a bad influence on Sam. "She's been putting all of these ideas into your head. She-"

It was Sam's turn to cut John off. Hearing his father talk about her that way made Sam's blood boil. He took a steadying breath. Just yelling at his father wouldn't do any good. He needed to be somewhat logical. Though, he struggled to think of anything decent to say after what he had heard his father call her.

Dean was watching everything go down. Now that he'd seen how this argument was going he might have a few regrets. He'd seen Sam and his father argue, a lot. It had never been this bad though. Hearing what his father had to say about her though, that made Dean regret everything. Being around her was the happiest Dean had ever seen his brother. He couldn't believe that his father would insult her like that. She wasn't a bad influence on Sam, not in the slightest.

"Don't call her that," Sam said through a clenched jaw. "She has done nothing wrong! It was my idea to apply for Stanford. I am not abandoning this family! I'm going to college!"

"Don't you fucking come back! If you aren't going to do the job, and be apart of this family, don't you ever come back," John snarled.

Sam's expression changed in an instant. He felt his chest tighten, panic spreading throughout his body. He knew by looking at johns face that his father wasn't kidding.

Sam grabbed his jacket, the letter from Stanford, and his laptop case before walking out the door. He had a lump in his throat as he walked down the row of motel room doors. Looking around the parking lot, he was thankful that it was empty.

"Sammy! Wait!" Dean yelled, running out of the motel room door after his younger brother. He was panicking at this point. Things weren't supposed to end like this. He couldn't believe that Sam would leave like this.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped at his brother, not bothering to turn around. "Leave me the hell alone Dean."

The older Winchester brother stopped in his tracks. He had fucked up, everything had went wrong. It was too late now. Sam had clearly made up his mind. There was nothing Dean would be able to do to stop his brother.

Sam walked. And he just kept walking. His jacket protected him from the ice cold gushes of wind blowing. He walked towards the only place he had left to go; her house. She was his escape. He needed her, right now especially.

The disgusting words that John had spoke of her made Sam's blood boil. He walked faster. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hiding them away from the brisk cold.

She was the best part of his day. Hearing his father call her that, and the way the older man talked about her made him sick. She deserved so much better. She didn't do anything wrong. No, the opposite. She made everything better.

The thought of her smile was only able to hinder the tears building up for so long. Sam only walked faster. His long, gangly legs could only carry him so fast though.

The walk to her house didn't take long. Sam practically ran. His eyes had long ago welled up with tears, he sniffled as he finally spotted her house. He walked up to the front porch and hesitated. It was late. What if her parents answered instead of her?

He didn't knock on the door. Instead, he sent her a quick text asking if she could open the front door for him. He prayed to anything out there that might listen to him that she was still awake. He wouldn't risk her parents coming to the door, even if he knew that they wouldn't be upset.

His tear stained cheeks glimmered in the moonlight. He wiped at his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to hide some of the tears from view. However, he knew that the second she opened the door that she would know. It would be impossible for her not too.

She could take one look at Sam and read him like a god-damn book. It was nice to be understood like that. Dean and his father had never actually listened to him about anything. He felt like an outsider. He don't feel anywhere near like that around her.

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the click of a deadbolt sliding open. The front door creaked open. Standing in the doorway, there she was. Her pajama pants hung low on her hips, exposing a small section of her waist before her tank top covered the rest of her skin up. She looked tired as hell, yet she still gave Sam a gentle smile.

She stepped aside wordlessly, letting Sam into the house. Her eye brows drew together in concern as she noticed his tear stained cheeks. As Sam stepped inside, she quickly (and quietly) shut the door. The dead bolt snapped into place.

As she turned around she noticed that Sam had already began walking to her bedroom. Her house was more like a home to Sam than any other place. He did spend a lot of time here. Not that her parents minded.

Her parents loved Sam. They had always welcomed him in with open arms. And, they ignored all of the times they caught Sam sleeping over. They just appreciated that their daughter was spending time with someone her age. Having such a an odd lifestyle made it difficult to maintain friendships.

Whenever she walked into her bedroom, Sam was already sitting on her bed. His head was titled downwards, his eyes seemed to be locked on her rug. She noticed that he had discarded his shoes and jacket already. His jacket hung on the back of her desk chair, and his shoes sat in the corner of her room.

She sat next to Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. More tears burned at his eyes and he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice as he spoke

"H-he found out," Sam whispered in a fragile voice. With anyone else he would have cringed at how vulnerable he sounded. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the tears from pouring down his cheeks again.

Her heart dropped. She was suddenly wide awake. That was the worst possible thing that could happen. She still remembered how excited Sam had been to show her his acceptance letter. All of that excitement had been ruined by John.

"Oh my God. . . Sam-"

"I'm still going to S-Stanford," He looked up at her as a few tears finally escaped down his cheeks. "My dad. . . my dad told me not to come back."

She didn't hesitate before pulling him into a tight hug. It was awkward since they were both sitting down but she didn't care in the slightest. Sam broke down in her arms. Hot tears poured down his cheeks.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay." Her voice was gentle, the polar opposite to how his father had spoken to him earlier.

It was moments like this that made Sam realize how lucky he was to have her. He wouldn't know what to do without her. Especially tonight. His heart has been brutally ripped apart by his father, now she would work on helping him pick up the pieces.

They were always there for each other. It was something that could be so very simple that most people didn't notice it. The way that Sam would subconsciously reach for her anytime things went South, the way she always seemed to find her way into Sam's arm after a case or fight with her parents, the way she always made sure Sam had somewhere to go.

And yet, the two had stuck with the title of best friends. Neither one of them wanted to change it much, not yet anyway. There might have been occasional thoughts that definitely weren't the kind you thought about friends though.

Her warm touch brought Sam back to the present moment. It reminded him that things didn't have to be so bad. He might have lost his father, and maybe even Dean too, but he still had her.

"You can stay here until you leave for Stanford."

Sam' head jerked up. That was months away. He had planned to- he actually didn't know what he had planned to do. He would have figured something out though. No matter how hard it was.

Sam cleared his throat, "No, I can't ask your parents to do that."

"Too bad," She retorted. "You live with us until you leave for Stanford." Her voice was firm and left no room for argument.

Her parents would understand. They always did. Even if her father and John were friends, she knew that her mother would be able to persuade her father into letting Sam stay with them. Her mother was good at doing that. Nobody could say no to that woman.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. He then rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tear streaks. It would never make sense to Sam. He couldn't believe that she cared about him this much. He was a black sheep with his family. He was the one who caused problems and didn't belong. He didn't feel that way here. He felt just as much apart of the family as she actually was.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. She kept her arms wrapped around Sam. He felt like her arms were the only thing holding him together. His own father had just kicked him out! Sam couldn't believe that Dean had shown the letter. It hurt.

None of that mattered right now. He couldn't go back in time to fix things. He had to live with everything that had just happened. He had to figure it out.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He could get through anything with her by his side.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

A/N: The biggest thanks to @tranquilitybasegrunge and @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading parts of this for me!

Tag List: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @aidansloth @jaredpadonlyyyy @zeppette @moonl1ghtsworld @tranquilitybasegrunge

Join My Tag List Here: Tag List 

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

Teach Me ♡ Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam winchester x reader

Wc: didn't check but it's not too long

Tw: not proof read, no use of y/n, slightly suggestive if you squint ig, mentions of cannon typical violence but not really

Summary: Sam hears you playing piano (listen to the song i imaged bellow), you're so at peace (so beautiful) that he can't help but utter the words "teach me" and that's exactly what you do.

♡♡♡♡♡

For once you Sam and Dean were actually staying in a nice hotel. Yep a hotel not a motel. It was appart of the ruse to be fancy business people, and that included staying in a nice hotel.

While the case was tough and you all had many sleepless nights it turned out to be a simple salt and burn and the ghost was gone.

And that lead you to now, standing in the hotel lobby looking at the beautiful grand piano in front of you.

You used to play piano as a child, your one constant throught the hectic hunting lifestyle growing up was piano, but it had been years since you last actually played. But how you longed to play once more.

That's why you found your self sitting at the stool, your hands tracing the keys as you thought of what to play.

You settled on your favorite 'easy' tune, one that you knew you would never forget; a piano cover of this is love.

And so you played.

And played.

And played.

You were at peace for the first time in a long time. It felt right.

Maybe in another life, if you weren't a hunter, you could have been a professional pianists. If you had proper training, and the time, and a piano all to your self. Yet it wasn't ment to be.

Sometimes you just wanted to leave this life forever, chase your dreams, maybe be a music teacher, have a family or something? That's what normal people do, right?

But you couldn't, or rather you wouldn't, you couldn't leave the Winchesters. Or at least you couldn't leave one spefic Winchester. Of course you cared for Dean as though he was your own older brother, but Sam... you couldn't imagine a life without him. You would do anything for that boy, it terrified you, and yet you stuck by him through everything regardless of the pit in your stomach everytime he was in danger, or the ache in your heart when he looked at you.

Dean made fun of you constantly, always teasing about your sight 'crush' on his brother. He always said Sam felt the same, but you knew that wasn't the case. So you had to settle for looking out for him from afar, being too scared to say anything to make it awkward.

So you played.

And played.

And played.

"Teach me."

You look up from the piano in front of you, coming out of what felt like a trance.

"Teach me." Sam said again, sitting beside you on the tiny piano stool. It clearly wasn't ment for two people to sit on, yet there he was, all 6"4 of him, perched beside you.

You studied him for a second, unsure as to whether he really ment his words or not. It appeared that he actually was in earnest.

At first you wanted to say no. Not because you didn't want to teach him, the opposite really. You didn't know whether you would be able to keep your composure if you had to hold and move Sam's hand in order to teach him.

Just as you were about to come up with some excuse you made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. His eyes, that were already trained on yours, were embodying his 'puppy dog' eyes as you and Dean coined them. Eyes that melted your heart and made it impossible to say no.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes and sighed at Sam, looking away from him. 'Don't make a fool of yourself' you heard yourself saying in your head.

You were just teaching him how to play piano, Sam's a curious guy, there is nothing more to it, no lingering feelings or longing stares (well from him anyways). You were just being a good friend.

That's what you and Sam are. Friends.

"I'll teach you happy birthday since its almost Dean's..." you trailed of catching a glimps of Sam's wide smile from the corner of your eye. "So you need to put your thumb on C."

He didn't move.

You looked at him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow. First he asks you to teach him, but now he isn't following the very first instructions? You were confused untill-

"I don't know why your looking at me, I don't know which one C is." Sam laughed.

Shit. You'd forgotten about that.

"Oh sorry," you mumbled awkwardly, "it's the one before the two black notes, can I?" You gestured to his hand, signalling to Sam that you wanted to place it in the correct place your self.

"Sure go right ahead," you pretended not to notice his smile growing even wider as you took his hand and rested it in the correct position on top of the piano. Surely his reaction was just in your head, right?

"Wait, I'll put my hand on yours and I'll tap what fingers you need to play the notes, does that make sense." Your explanation was convoluted but Sam just nodded giving you the green light.

You moved to rest your hand on top of his, leaning into him so that your right hand was atop of his right hand.

Blush crept up your neck, you prayed Sam didn't notice. Judging by how focused he was on your hand ontop of his hand, he seemed not to notice.

"Ready?" You questioned.

"Go easy with ne now," he joked, "it's my first time."

"Shut it winchester." You laughed. You loved it when Sam was sassy, he knew it too.

Gently you began to tap his fingers so he played the correct notes.

C C D C F E

C C D C F E

*click*

The sound of a camera stop you, spinning round to see what the source of the noise was.

Dean was stood beside the piano with a with eating grin on his face. "Cheese," he said sarcastically as he pocked his phone.

"Dean what are you-?" You began to ask but he cut you off.

"I'm going to show it to everyone on your guys' wedding day" he said nonchalantly, smirking.

"But we're not-"

"Sam and I aren't-"

"Why would you-?"

"That's so weird to say-"

You and Sam both began talking at the same time. Each of you growing extremely red. Your hands still on top of one another's.

"You both need to cut the bullshit!" He cried shaking his head. And with that Dean turned and left before calling down the hallway, "I'm going to the bar to get drunk, you better have confessed some feelings when I'm back cos I'm suck of hearing you mope about one another to me!"

You and Sam stared at eachother.

Silence.

You wanted to scream, or cry, or run away, just something. But you didn't know what to do. Even if you did, you were frozen. You just stared at Sam, eyes wide, shocked at Dean's outburst.

"Dean's right."

"what...?"

What!?!?

Did Sam know about your silly crush? Did Dean tell him? You were going to kill him.

Or did he mean.... no he couldn't, could he? Could Sam really reciprocate your feelings. You swalled down the thought, not wanting to get your hopes high for nothing.

That's when Sam began to speak once again.

"My whole life I've always wanted to find my person you know." Sams eyes were facing down at the piano key's unable to meet yours. "And I thought I found people in the past, but all of them... well you know what happened."

Of course you knew what happened. He'd told you in a moment of vulnerability in one of the first nights that to spent all night talking while researching a case. You knew eachother inside and out. You knew eachother darkest and deepest secrets. You knew eveything about eachother.

"And since then I've been so scared," he continued, "scared that if I got close to anyone that they would end up the same. Then you happened. We met you on a hunt and you've stuck with us ever since and I kept being drawn to you, and I hated myself for it. I wanted to keep you far away to protect you, but the more I wanted to protect you the more I wanted to..."

He trailed off and took in a large intake of breath, lifting his eyes with determination to meet yours.

"The more I wanted to be closer to you, the more I wanted to hold you to be there for you.. to kiss you." His eyes momentarily flicking down to your lips, your breath hitched.

"The more I relised I was in love with you, that I am in love with you." He flipped his hand so that he was now holding yours, lacing his fingers between yours. You didn't speak, you knew he had more to say and you were more that happy to listen. Your brain was going a hundred miles an hour, Sam's words were simultaneously grounding you and making your brain go into overdrive, but his hand holding yours assured you that this was real. This moment is real. It's real.

"So I talked to Dean about it, about you, alot and I've finally stopped fighting it. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know your not afraid of the risks of this job, the risks of being near me, as you've lived through so many horrors with me, you were by my side though everything and I don't think I can go on any longer without you knowing, I could never forgive myself for letting you get away..." He stopped speaking, he said what he wanted to. It was your turn to speak now. Yet you couldn't find the words, they all seemed lodged in your throat. You wanted to say it back but you couldn't, all you could do was look at Sam, your eyes wide.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't-" Sam began, trying to make you feel comfortable, he was worried you didn't feel the same. He wasn't aware that it was complete opposite reason as to why you couldn't speak. But you cut him off with a new found confidence.

"I swear to god Sam if you don't kiss me right now." You pleaded, avoiding his eyes.

A moment passed. Then you felt his hand leave yours. Panic surged through you. Oh god what had you done?

Then his hands were on your face and his lips found yours. You closed your eyes falling deeper and deeper into him, you were intoxicated, you couldn't get enough. His lips were rough and soft, neddy and patient all at the same time. It was so much, it would be too much, but it wasn't, it was perfect.

It felt like you and Sam were the only two people in the world. It felt right. All the horrors of life, all the monsters, demons, angels, eveything, none of it mattered in that moment. Nothing but the two of you existed in that moment.

And then all too soon he pulled away.

"I'm assuming you feel the same way?" He asked almost bashfully, redness creeping up his neck.

"Sam winchester, I love you and all your dorky-ness," you dramatically declared as Sam rolled his eyes, "and i-"

You were cut off by his lips finding yours once again. You were just where you wanted to be and for once the world seemed right, or at least it seemed okay with same by your side, or more accurately Sam's lips on yours.

"FINNALLY!"

You and Sam jumped away from one another, startled by a loud cry.

Dean was stood at the bottom of the corridor, his arms raised in the air in a sort of celebration.

"TOOK YOU BOTH LONG ENOUGH!"

You and Sam just looked and eachother and began to laugh.

"I guess he does have a point..." you commented between laughter.

"Yeah I guess that means we have to make up for lost time." He laughed, resting his hands in your hair.

"What do you mean?" You asked, playing along, ot was much more fun this way.

"Well I suppose I can think of a few things..." he trailed of suggestively, "what do you say?"

You smiled at him knowing exactly what he ment, and couldn't help but reply with what lead to this moment.

"Teach me."

[preseriesdean]

for @spnficrecfest day six: case fics 🧡

Ions in the Ether by @nigeltde-fic 10.9k words, rated E, published 2019 When was the last time you trusted happy.

Gospel Truth by Cerberuss 15.2k words, rated E, published 2020 ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream. This sort of introspection could have come from no one but himself. His secret, his affliction, on display as a reminder. He put this here. Don’t forget, Sam, you’re abhorrent. This is all you.

the constant vow by deadlybride / @zmediaoutlet 119.5k words, rated E, published 2022 With Crowley apparently dead and Sam's soul back in place, even though Eve is a worry and Castiel's fighting a heavenly war, Sam and Dean at last have some space to get back to what passes (for them) as a normal life. They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

Almost At Home by balefully 24.3k words, rated E, published 2008 Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.

Suave & Complicated by OldToadWoman 56.9k words, rated E, published 2015 Sam and Dean discover a useful, little, magical artifact. No one is forcing them to do anything. No one is going to die if they don't. They don't even feel a strange compulsion. But… it would be really helpful if they powered up the magical stone… and… all they have to do is kiss.

Crossed Wires by @rivkat 10.9k words, rated E, published 2015, check warnings Dean thinks Sam is dead.

Yesterday, minnesota by @goshen-applecrumbledore 29.7k words, rated E, published 2022 Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.

Sight Lines by kickflaw/kissyn 21.3k words, rated E, published 2012 Dad's on a hunt, Dean's acting strange, and Bilton, NY, is the last place on earth Sam imagined he would figure out how to make everything fit right.

They Then Ate the Sailors by coyotesuspect 24.3k words, rated M, published 2013 The summer before Sam leaves for Stanford, Sam and Dean sublet a student apartment in a heat-wave gripped Chicago. With John tied up with a case in Iowa City, Sam and Dean are left to figure what's behind a recent spate of drownings. Sam wrestles with the weight of the secret he's keeping from Dean, while Dean struggles with his feelings for Sam. Things come to a head when a young girl goes missing and Sam nearly drowns.

a thousand dreams within me softly burn by dooping_star 14.6k words, rated T, published 2020 "there is something fierce and terrible in me eligible to burst forth, i dare not tell it in words," - walt whitman, ‘earth, my likeness’, leaves of grass

[lailawinchesterr]

remedy (v) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: you deal with the aftermath of dean’s visit and your outing with sam, it goes half-way according to plan — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, said shorter but it’s a ‘jared’ shorter, he’s 6’4.

“Are you…” Sam sighs and you can hear how tired he is, “are you okay?” Today’s been a lot for him. Dean made another appearance after Sam thought it was over, both of you came back to the apartment for a reason— so maybe you’re thinking of yourself a little, but still it’s been stressful for him.

And you just slammed the door in his face. “Changing.”

“The clothes are out here.” You curse at yourself and purse your lips. You open the door slightly, just enough to see Sam’s face, his long tousled hair, and him holding out the pile of clothes to you. You snatch them from his hand and shut the door again. 

They fit well, Sam’s only a couple of inches taller than you so it’s almost okay, the shirt’s a little too long but the pants are sweats so with a tight knot, they hang low enough that it looks cute.

You exhale shakily before opening the door and then letting out a breath of relief that he’s not here. You fold your clothes and put them on Gen’s desk, right next to her books, and take out your phone.

It might seem pathetic, a little childish, but come on, you’re spending the night with Sam, you have the right to be those things to Jess.

You: I’m staying over.

Jess: Over my dead fucking body.

You: Just sleeping. In gen’s room.

Jess: Girl that’s even sadder.

You: Not a word, whore.

Jess: Is so, slut (for Sam).

You: Not funny, Jess. Don’t tell Gen anything, okay? Besides i'm here for Sam, he wants me to stay.

It sounds even more feeble actually typed out.

Jess: Why doesn’t he go talk to lily?

You: He said they’re not together.

Jess: BITCH YOU TALKED TO HIM ABOUT IT?

You: How is that a bad thing?

Jess: IT'S PATHETIC AND DESPERATE!!! I’m going to kill you when I see you.

You shut your phone off and hide it underneath your pillow. Everything will work itself out, with Sam and Dean and Jess and freakin finals that you have next week. You finished anatomy which means there’s physiology and biochemistry 104 left for next week. Which you’ve hardly opened having just finished your histology exam. 

Someone— Sam, obviously— knocks on the door and you tuck your hair behind your ear before saying he could come in. Sam’s brushed his own down, it looks much calmer than it’s usual ‘let it be’ hairstyle he has going for him. He shuts the door behind him— is the air getting thin?

“Look, you say the word and I’ll drive you back home—”

“What? Where’s this coming from?” He raises one eyebrow and takes a step towards you, flustering you so fast, just the way he takes his steps, stares into your eyes, and you stare at your fingers in your lap.

“You slamming the door in my face, you sleeping in Gen’s room, and now you’re not even looking at me, so if you don’t want this—”

“What is this, though?” Your voice drops, slow and cautious. “What is it? Are we…”

He walks over to where you’re sitting, sits down in front of you and reaches one hand out to brush his thumb over your knuckles, “We can’t figure that out if you keep acting like this. And I really like you when you’re not being like— when you aren’t acting scared and shy. You’re the most thoughtful friend, kind.”

“Right, but as a… not-friend, I guess; it wouldn’t work out.”

He shakes his head quickly, “That’s not what I’m saying. It would work if you stopped being so afraid! Of me, or what’s going to happen! Whatever you’re scared of, just don’t be.”

“That’s stupid, Sam,” you pull your fingers away from him so his hand is laying on your lap, barely on your thigh and you keep staring at it, not looking him in the eye quite yet, “being cautious is what helps me stay happy and whole, you know? The second I let my guard down—”

“What? What do you think is gonna happen?”

“I haven’t even known you that long! It’s been three weeks.” He scoffs like that’s the lamest excuse he’s heard in his life and his hand is no longer on your thigh, only God knows where it is because you’re definitely not looking up to see.

“If you don’t look at me while we’re talking then this’ll never fucking work.” The anger in his voice burned like a wildfire inside of you, consuming. it's terrifying how well it works as you involuntarily look up at him. 

It’s not that you’re scared of Sam or that you can’t maintain eye contact, you’ve done so various times, but this feels different, like he’ll dive into your soul if you look into his eyes for too long.

“Sam, I’m not being dramatic about this,” you reinforce, harsher this time, because you know what you feel, and he won’t make it seem small and insignificant. It isn’t. This is exactly what’s helped you avoid heartbreak for the past seventeen years.

“I’m not sayin’ you are. But being scared, nervous, whatever, about this is what makes it worth it. I’m not rushing you, if you wanna take it slower, we will, but I need to know how you feel, otherwise someone’s gonna get hurt and it’ll be because you didn’t tell me what you want right now. You gotta talk to me.”

His eyes up-close are easier to read. He’s desperate for answers, you’d assume that easily with the kind of day he had; filled with questions. You let his name slip with a groan as your head falls back. This is… a lot. But when you look back at him, he isn't deterred, his eyes are still searching yours for an answer.

“I have so many questions though—”

“Ask.”

“Lily.” It comes out before you can stop it but you don’t have time for regret.

“Just a friend. You have to trust me if this is going to work.” Calling your non-relationship this is apperantly the default name.

“I do trust you,” Risky considering you just met him, “but you never told me about the hangouts. You guys go out alone.”

“She’s top of the class, it helps to study with her.” Apparently that’s something you’ll have to get used to, him hanging around other girls. No questions come to mind after that, except maybe the most obvious one. That’s bothering both of you. 

“Sam—”

“I’ll wait. If you want me to wait for six months, I will.” You tilt your head in confusion, “I like you, a lot, and if my age bothers you then I’ll wait as long as you want. But you will not use it as a reason against us.”

It's probably all you’ve ever wanted your whole life. Being the youngest in your classes, in college, in basically everything you’ve ever participated in has always made you think you’re less than you are. You can’t be successful because you’re too young, it’s okay to fail because you still have years to catch up— it’s insulting and honestly just fucking annoying. 

But it’s still not that easy, even if you want to be with Sam people will talk. You don’t look seventeen, but you are, and you’re friends know so, since you don’t have a license. You’ll get the looks and talks you don’t want to even come near but it’s inevitable. 

It’s worth it. Sam is worth it.

“Yeah let’s, can we take it slow? Just for a while, so I can understand this before we decide to get into it.” You don’t date for the hell of it but while you’re not naive enough to think you’ll marry Sam, your heart needs time to catch up.

He nods with a small smile, finally. “How slow is slow?”

Great question. How slow is kissing? Probably slow enough, you think as you lean in, your lips inches apart. His eyes do that thing again, eyes, lips, eyes. And you’re praying he’ll finally do something— Sam crashes his lips onto yours. When you didn’t immediately pull away, he tilted his head and deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue out to slide over your bottom lip. 

When he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he bites your bottom lip but it’s so faint you wouldn’t feel it if your whole body wasn’t invested, which it is, so you comply, pushing your lips apart to give him access. His hands run up your thighs and to your waist, pulling you closer slowly so you don’t crash your teeth together. It’s slow but deep and feverish and needy. 

When he pulls away for a second and shuts his lips closed you shudder, involuntarily chasing his lips before you feel his hands slip under your thighs and he lifts you onto his lap, then moves so he’s in your place with his back against the headboard. 

He doesn’t go back to immediately kissing you, instead pulls back a little further, one hand on your waist, the other coming up to your hair, his eyes taking you in so completely you might as well be naked. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous,” You pout. That’s… sweet. Too sweet. You guys should go back to kissing. So you nod once and try to lean back in, he lets you, indulges you in a kiss. Two, three seconds then he pushes back using the hand that’s holding your head, treading his fingers through your hair. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, ‘s cute, thanks.” He shakes his head, obviously not buying it. “Just… i don’t know, it’s weird hearing it from a guy.”

“That you’re attractive? Are you joking?” You shrug and try to look around for something to do. Is it normal to have full on conversations when you’re trying to make out? “Beautiful.” He says it with a breath, like it’s consuming him “Every part of you.” He whispers that part while his eyes run over your figure up and down. 

“Okay… so kiss me?” He laughs a little and with your hands on his chest you can feel the vibrations distinctly, making you forget your question which allows a gasp to escape when his lips pull yours in. 

You can’t believe you’re kissing Sam. You can’t believe that you’re taller than him in this position. He’s the one pulling you down to get to him. Incredible. Everything about him and this.

He tests the water again before slipping his tongue into your mouth and it causes a more visceral reaction; you pull away suddenly and his eyes instantly snap open. “You okay? Was that too fast?”

No just… weird? Are you supposed to do that for him? Yeah, no way, man. You’re not a prude (kinda), you’ve watched things here and there, a woman has her needs, but this? Kissing? Not the internet’s biggest interest. 

“Sam, you know this is like— you’re my first. Ever.” Oh. Okay. So maybe he didn’t know. His face is suggesting he, infact, did not know. “Like I mean, not, maybe—” You’re making it worse.

“You’re making it worse.” He sighs and his head falls back to slam quietly against the headboard. He looks tired, but takes back his words the second he says them regardless. “‘M sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just— you should’ve told me. I didn’t know.”

“Well, I thought I’d make it obvious the second the kiss starts, honestly.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” he mutters through half-lidded eyes, fingers still playing with your hair. He’s better at not freaking out about your pop-up facts, now. “Was it okay? For your first time?”

You nod quickly, “Yes, the best.” You lean down and press another kiss. It’s unhurried, and just the surface, but still so meaningful it fills your heart beyond belief. “You’re the best— but since we’re on the topic, you know that I’m a virgin too, right?” You add the last part just in case. Just in case.

“Yeah, baby, I know,” He’s probably extra tired if he’s calling you that. He should really stop if he wants you to keep it that way. “Wasn’t gonna do anything tonight, anyways. We’re waiting, right?”

“Do you want to do something tonight?” You’re not sure why you’re asking. You’re not ready. Mentally or physically. He shakes his head anyways and you let out a sigh of relief and practically slump your shoulders. He chuckles and tries to sit up.

“That bad? Then why’d you ask?”

“No not bad, ‘s just that I’m not ready yet.”

“We’re never going to do anything you’re not ready for, you know that. You shouldn’t do anything just ‘cause I want to.” You know that, it’s basically the only staple in your life considering how much of a people-pleaser you used to be back in high school. 

“Okay, yeah.” Your smile is wide despite all the highs and damn lows of today, you ended it on Sam’s lap, making out (on Gen’s bed), how the hell are you supposed to be sad about that? Not happening. But you are concerned for Sam’s health so you slide out of his grip and sit next to him instead. He faces you.

“You’re exhausted, Sam. Go to sleep.” It’s not a demand, but he seems to take it as one because he yawns and slips further into the bed. “In here?” You let out and immediately glue your lips shut.

“You want me to leave?” He’s asking but he’s also getting comfortable at the same time. So you shake your head and make a move to get out of the bed when he starts slightly, a wave of guilt washing over him, so clear on his face. “I’ll go, just give me a minute—”

“I’m just getting the lights, Sam.” You feel him sag with relief and you mirror it out of joy. You get the lights and take a moment to collect yourself then get in the bed next to him, slowly tucking yourself under the covers. You try not to touch him and he doesn’t exactly have time to comment because he’s out in a minute. 

Jess: Like a cheap whore. 

You wish you could text Jess back to shut up and that that isn’t what happened but that’s a lie— it’s exactly how it happened. You left the next morning before Sam woke up, leaving his clothes in a neatly folded pile in his living room. She must’ve checked your location. 

You: How’d you know he’s asleep? 

You text back as you pass another coffee shop on your way home. It’s only a thirty minute walk, good enough for you to think and collect your thoughts before Sam inevitably calls.

Jess: I didn’t but you confirmed it. On your way?

You: Yes.

Jess: Coffee bitch!! Gen wants matcha. 

You shut your phone off after putting your AirPods in. You’ll bring them their coffee and tell them all the details but now you need to think. Collect. Recollect. Organize.

And you will, you are. Because you’re not hiding from Sam, you’re not running away or ignoring him, you need space, like you often do, so you don’t get emotional. That, and waking up next to someone is too intimate for you so maybe a little bit of running.

But you didn’t do it just for him, you wanted to see if you’d be able to do it, be comfortable enough to sleep next to him. And despite the answer being ‘maybe?’, you would do it again. 

“Glucose is converted to glycogen, glycogenesis—” Another yawn. The sixth time in maybe just this hour and you pull your phone out to find something a little more entertaining for just a few minutes. Your brain is going to seriously retaliate if you don’t immediately get a break.

Sam: Hey, how are you?

Sam: Classes?

Your breath hitches as you stare at your Lock Screen, the little messages under his name sending a current through your entire body.  Despite the constant texting these past weeks it feels different now. You kissed. Yesterday. And you left without saying anything.

His text was sent five minutes ago so you suck it up and text right away.

You: Yes, I’m in class right now. Sorry I didn’t wanna wake you up.

Sam: It’s okay, but you should’ve, wanted to say bye.

Oh, that’s sweet. 

Sam: Be careful and text me when you’re done I wanna talk.

You: Okay. I’m done by three.

Nothing bad could possibly come out of this, you’ve already done the biggest part and he told you that he likes you. Straight up just said it and that he wants to make a relationship between you two work. Nothing else bad can come out of that.

Sam: Meet me at the cafe in front of the gate?

He wants to meet up? Now? No way, youre half out of your mind and if someone doesn’t drop you onto a bed at this moment, you will be throwing hands. You barely slept a wink in that bed, no matter how warm and there Sam was next to you, it didn’t calm you down as much as you thought it would. You still got to sleep, just not enough, a few hours considering you kept waking up every hour to check that he’s still asleep and make sure you’re not dreaming.

You: Okay.

The monologue was helpful and very true, but there’s no way you’re rejecting him when you want to talk just as much as he does, if not more.

“—and so it’s back to its normal set point. This is what we call negative feedback mechanism.” 

You might need a tutor, though.

“Hey, mum.” Your heart softens hearing her voice blare through the phone. So much background noise, your siblings, but she’s laughing as she asks how you’ve been. “Great, I’m okay. How are you guys? I know I haven’t been checking in lately, ‘s my fault.”

She asks about your grades and how studying is going and you tell her the truth, you’re a little distracted today but other than that everything’s okay, that earns you a lecture, that you cut short when you see Sam approaching your table. You already ordered a redbull for yourself and since you didn’t know what sam wanted you got water.

“Love you so much more.” You smile and shut your phone off as you stand up to greet him and he hugs you, his cologne penetrating everything at this point. Did he always smell this good because God, how? “I’m sorry I’ve just been tired so I got it— do you wanna order?” 

He shakes his head and you both sit down opposite to each other as you try and drown your drink. He looks like he wants to say something and you’re not sure anymore whether or not this is ‘nothing’ like you tried to convince yourself. 

“How’s school? Do you have classes today?”

“No, no, just a project meet up tonight—” With Lily, probably. He takes his phone out to put down on the table as it rings loudly to show a notification. “But you left, sweetheart. So I wanted to ask you about that.”

“I had class.”

“Your class starts at one, you left way before that.” How’d he know that? “Yesterday, did I make you uncomfortable?” You hate this. Two steps forward, one step back. You kissed, you thought that meant you could do more but you can’t and you have no idea why you lied to yourself.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” You shrug and take another sip. “Yesterday we were tired and it was late so if you did something you regret or if you don’t mean what you said—”

“What? No, I meant it. Why, did you not mean it? You said you’d wait.” It’s moments like these where you regret having the ability to speak. Jumping to conclusions and deciding things for everyone has been your default. You’re a control freak, it’s the least you do. 

“You’re the one who’s not talking!” He says, a little loud and exasperated which forced you to lean back in your seat. “You said you want this to work so you have to open up to me.” He’s making it sound like a school project.

“It’s just how I am, I don’t like airing out every single thought and feeling I have.” And then, because if there’s one thing you know how to do it's setting boundaries, “If you don’t like that, Sam, then just go.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I want to be here but— okay, so, I’ll recap what happened. Before we slept we said we’d try to take it slow, but that you wanted me. I wanted you.” Wanted? “I want to be with you,” he says strictly, “and then I wake up and you’re back to how you were two days ago. Closed off.”

“I’m not closed off, I tell you everything. I told you I had class, and I was tired so I got a redbull.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” He says with a laugh, a little amused and thankfully, less irritated, “you told me you’re tired? I don’t mean that kind of stuff, baby, I wanna know why you left early. I’m not accusing you of anything, I just want to be there for you. You think about things way too hard and they spin out of control, and I can see it, but I just don’t know where it comes from. You need to clue me in.”

He said ‘baby’ again, and this time he isn’t sleepy. Maybe he deserves a little bit of your thoughts. It isn’t like you’re actively keeping him out, it’s just too much for a lot of people.

“Sam, I don’t mean to be closed off but I think a lot, and it’s just, I don’t know, I guess high maintenance for some people. You don’t need to know every single thing.”

“I’m not saying every single thing about your entire life, but maybe just about us for now?” Maybe time stops, maybe it doesn't, maybe you’re hearts behind it, but when you face him again it’s a different expression than before. He’s frowning at you like the answer means the world to him and you can’t help but feel guilty and enamored by how fucking beautiful he actually is. And he likes you? It’s getting harder to accept by the moment. 

Contrary to popular belief you are not just a control freak. You’re also an over-thinker with self-sabotaging tendencies that could last you three lifetimes, but you just can’t find it in yourself to do anything to hurt Sam. You just can’t. With those jutted lips and sparkling eyes.

Do his eyes always sparkle like that?

His laugh coerces you out of your daydream and— when did he move his chair closer? “Answer me, then we’ll talk about whatever you want.”

Including his eyes?

“Yes.” You should invest in tape if you’re going to start blurting out your thoughts. 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable but I need space sometimes. I get overwhelmed easily and I don’t mean it in a bad way but my mind just organizes things better when I’m alone.” He nods, looks down at your hand on the table and takes it in his, it jolts you and you look up at him. “And— sometimes holding me or just touching me overwhelms me and if I ask you to stop it isn’t because of you.”

“Like now?”

You shake your head quickly, pressing your fingers into his to assure him. “No, not now.”

“Yesterday?” You answer no and he smiles. “So you just needed to think?”

“Yes.”

“And you thought doing all of this was better than just telling me that you needed time to think.” Well, when you put it like that… “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” 

“Can I kiss you?” You should probably think about this logically before you answer— who will see you and stuff, but you’re nodding yes and he’s leaning in faster than your mind can comprehend.

It’s short, and when you pull away, you’re still so close, “so you’re not mad?”

“I’ll never be mad if you tell me how you feel or what you need.” Hell of a promise to keep, Winchester.

“Jess, come on, you know me!” The argument is a futile one, and you’re aware of it.

“I know, and that's why I'm so disappointed. You slept at his house? On my girlfriend's bed?” Right, so maybe you left the important details out like you’re make-out session in the middle of the night and both of you decide to take it slow but ultimately are in a relationship. Speaking of, this means exclusive, right? Fuck, you should’ve asked. 

“That’s— whatever! I didn’t do anything stupid, don’t worry.” Biggest understatement of the century but you just can’t bring yourself to tell her anything yet. Besides, you have exams soon and that seems like a much more important task to focus on.

“Look, babe, I’m not saying I’m angry, but you promised you’d be careful.”

“I was!”

“No you’re not. You get attached easily, and you love way too fast— Sam can control himself! If you two stop talking tomorrow he wouldn’t feel the same way you would.” It fucking burns more than anything in the world to hear it from Jess. Especially from her. Possibly because she knows you best and it would mean that what she’s saying is true, and you’re not ready to face that.

She’s right, though, and you’ve always known it. But it isn’t like that with Sam— it hasn’t been like that since you came to college. Not that Jess was with you before it but you’ve told her almost everything about you, past and present, so her words come from a place of analyzation. And love.

“I’m different now. And he’s different.”

She shrugs, moving closer, a hand on both your shoulders, “I couldn’t care less about Sam,” lie, “but I will not allow anyone to hurt you. Ever.”

And it shouldn’t be that comforting considering she’s only a twenty one year old woman who’s never had a stable job in her life and hasn’t talked to her parents in two years, but it is. It’s the most comfort you've felt the whole week, and you bring her in for a hug because of it.

For all her advice, she’s wrong about one thing. You’re not all-in with Sam. You’re scared, fucking petrified of what this could lead to, but you’re not in high school anymore, your responsibilities aren’t just ‘study and maybe get a top grade’. In uni you can very easily get kicked off— and outside of school, you have to go back home in a month. Unlike your hopeless romantic fourteen-year-old self, you’re aware of your goals. 

And maybe you can’t say it out loud to Jess yet, but you’re proud of yourself for recognizing it within yourself.  part six; baby, don’t get it twisted.

title: love notes by alexa cirri

prompt: person a: ‘come on, you know me!’ person b: ‘I know, and that's why I'm so disappointed.’ from @alphabetquest !!

they finally kissed!!!!! Is this the beginning of their relationship?? I’ve had too much angst for now so I’m thinking next chapter they just cuddle the whole time. comment if you wanna be tagged!

tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge

[simplenefelibata]

i think a lot of you undermine sam and cas' friendship.

like, we know sam isn't dean. cas isn't pathetically in love with him and sam didn't change him and he isn't the reason cas cared about the whole world. but that doesn't mean he's unimportant.

at the beginning of the series cas sees sam as the abomination. nothing but lucifer's vessel. throughout the series, sam becomes an extension of dean. cas takes care of him because he's dean's little brother and doesn't really give a much of a thought how his actions could affect him.

on the other hand, i think sam didn't have a lot of friends growing up and it shows lol. he sees cas as an instrument, and then also as an extension of dean. he's important to dean so he's kinda important to him, but he doesn't really Get why dean worries sm about cas — isn't he an angel??? sam constantly says cas is gonna be okay because he "knows what he's doing", or he simply says "it's cas... " it feels like sam is painfully aware how powerful and different he is.

the thing is, slowly but surely, they start hanging out more. they collab for dean's benefit, and then the concern they feel for the other's safety starts being more genuine instead of just "Not letting anything happen because Dean wouldn't survive it". they find out they like each other, and they can work really well together investigating and hunting (i'd argue that even better than cas and dean). this comes to a point where cas teases sam with dean (ex: telling him about the amnesia in the 50's case bc he knows it's embarrassing) and sam texting cas just because.

season 15 is what seals it for me. when cas breaks up with dean (lol), sam is the one reaching out. texting. calling. cas doesn't pick up, but sam keeps doing it. again. and again. that wouldn't have happened in season 7, or season 9, and really not much reason to do it now. but still.

plus, when people talk about cas and his love for the winchesters, they include Both of them. yes, they make the distinction between dean and cas' relationship, but they do include sam. even cas said at one point "you know me, always happy to bleed for the winchesters".

so, what i'm trying to say is: cas and sam's friendship matters!!! they should've had more time screen!!! i bet they would have so many interesting conversations because they're friends!!!

if you say that in a post-canon world you don't think sam would try to get cas to talk about his feelings, or that cas wouldn't confide sam his fears and regrets and worries BEEP you're wrong.

[natti-ice]

Dream Invader- Castiel.

Pairing: Castiel x fem!reader

Summary: Castiel takes a trip into Y/N’s dream and finds some interesting information

Warnings: written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

The Impala drove down a dark road, no other cars for miles. They had just got a case two states over. They had just finished a hunt so they didn't have any time to rest. Dean is in the driver's seat, Sam in the passenger, Y/N in the back passed out. She wasn't new to the game, but it always wore her out like a newbie.

Dean went through all the channels on the radio, either they were static or they were playing some new top 40 song. He wasn't a fan of this new generation's music. He was getting annoyed, he settled on silence.

"All this new technology and they can't get better signal out here" Dean grumbled, mostly to himself.

"People don't listen to the radio anymore, Dean" Sam mumbled, fighting his sleep. He was exhausted, he got four hours of sleep in the past two days. He was always on edge, afraid something would happen when he slept.

"Shh, Y/N's sleeping"

"Must be nice" Dean said looking up at the rearview mirror. "Jesus!" He said startled.

Sam jumped, the tired leaving his body. His hand immediately reaching for his handgun, snapping his back to look in the back seat.

"Cas, you have to stop popping up out of nowhere" Dean sighed

"Sorry, I figured this was better than showing up in the middle of the road."

"I wanted to come with you guys on this hunt, I had nothing better to do" Castiel explained.

"Why didn't you just call?" Sam asked

"I uh- I lost my cellphone" He replied, he had no idea where it was. Probably some country in Europe, he's been to too many places this week.

"Whatever just give us a warning next time" Dean said

-

The four of them drove in silence for another thirty minutes. Y/N is still sound asleep. As much as Dean loved to drive, looking at a bunch of nothing is boring. He was trying to think of a game to keep him occupied, maybe like 'count how many trees you see' he probably couldn't count that high.

Checking the mirror once more, he saw a faint smile on Y/N's sleeping face. She was always a peaceful sleeper, he wondered how after all the things they had seen. How could anyone sleep after that? He was happy she could sleep, he never wanted her to know the feeling of running off adrenaline and bad coffee.

He got an idea, not his best work but he had to deal with what he had.

"Hey Cas" The angel looked up, he didn't know road trips were this boring.

"Yeah?" He answered

"Why don't you hop into Y/N's dream, see why she's got that smile on her face"

"Dean-" Sam started

"C'mon it's harmless Sammy. Just a little bit of fun" Dean said before his brother could tell him how that it was an invasion of privacy blah blah.

"I don't think that's a good Idea, Dean" Castiel didn't understand how this would be "fun" But he knew humans found entertainment in weird ways.

"Don't be a buzzkill. Just use your little angel powers and see what she's doing."

"She's probably running through a field of flowers or something"

"Fine. I'll do it, but don't ask me to do anything weird for at least a week"

"Deal, now go" Dean said, he could feel his brother's disappointed glare as Cass disappeared.

"What?" he asked

"Boundaries Dean, boundaries." Sam sighed

"Oh please it's not like Cas doesn't show up in our dreams three times a week"

Silence.

"No, he doesn't" Sam said confused

"Whatever, you know what I mean" Dean nervously squeezed the steering wheel. Oh god, do I dream about Cas? he thought.

"Right.." Sam replied giving Dean a skeptical look

-

Castiel landed on some unstable surface. Looking down at his feet, his black shoes were sinking in sand with every step. He looked around at his surrounding, he was on a beach. The sun was starting to set, the sound of waves crashing filled the air. It was so picturesque.

He could hear faint music coming from his right. Off into the distance, he could see two people standing. He figured it was Y/N, but he didn't know who the other person was. He walks closer to the pair, he noticed small candles lit around the two.

They were swaying to the tune playing from the small radio on the ground. It was one of those old love songs. It seemed whoever she was with, they were romantically involved. When he got about 6 feet away from them, he could see who the mystery person was.

It was him.

Well, his vessel.

They seemed so happy, in love with the moment. Y/N had her arms wrapped around his torso resting her head on his chest. While dream Castiel's hands were on her waist. He didn't know she felt that way about him, maybe it was just the dream.

He watched them for what felt like forever, as he took in the sight. He had a strong love for Y/N, he had trouble figuring out what kind of love. She was one of the most beautiful humans he'd ever met. She's smart, funny, caring, in his eyes she was perfect.

Though, he wasn't sure how relationships between humans and angels would be seen by the man upstairs. Honestly, he didn't care.

He guessed he had been standing there so long Y/N felt his presence. She looked over and saw him. "Castiel?" her eyes went wide.

He freaked out and didn't know what to say, he vanished out of the dream landing back in the Impala.

Shortly after, Y/N woke up from her sleep. She looked over and saw Castiel. Her hope of that meeting being a part of her dream went out the window. He saw what she was doing. She prayed to anyone who was listening that he didn't think anything of it.

"Morning sunshine" Dean said when he saw she was awake.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, he could see she was disheveled.

"Fine" She replied, trying to keep it together

"Did you see anything in there, Cas?"

"Nope. Just like you said, fields." He came up with the lie on the spot, he didn't want to embarrass Y/N anymore.

"That's boring-"

"Hang on, you told him to go into my dream?" Annoyance in her voice

"It was just for fun Y/N, plus like he said, he didn't see anything" He said in defense.

"You son of a bitch" she said flicking his ear

"Ough!"

-

The rest of the drive was mainly silent. Y/N didn't talk to Dean much and didn't say a word to Castiel. She was so embarrassed, out of all the dreams he could've walked in on it was that one.

It had been reoccurring for months, she and Cass on a beach in each other's arms. Not one problem in the world, it was just them. Her crush grew stronger as the dream progressed. She had done so well hiding her feelings for the angel. Now all of that is gone because Dean is nosy.

They finally made it to their next case, pulling up to a motel parking lot. Sam and Dean went inside the office to get a room, leaving Cass and Y/N alone.

They stood outside the car waiting for them to get back. Needless to say, it was pretty damn awkward. The silence was killing Y/N, she spoke up.

"Thank you" she said

"What?" Castiel was confused

"Thanks for not telling them what you saw." she kept her head down

"Oh, you're welcome... I didn't think it was my place to tell them about your dream."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy" he felt so bad about this.

"It's alright. At least now you know." she sighed

"Know what?"

"You're gonna make me say it?" she looked up at him. He looked very confused

"That I like you, Castiel."

"Oh," he swallowed "I didn't want to assume anything, I had no idea about this"

"No one knew, I didn't want it getting in the way of the job. Plus I know there's no chance you feel the same way-"

"You're wrong" he cut her off

"Huh?"

"About how I feel, I do feel the same. I guess I've been keeping a secret too." He looked deep into her eyes to make sure she knew he was telling the truth. " There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought about you, how kind and sweet you are. Not to mention how stunning you are."

Y/N thought she was still dreaming. She couldn't believe what he was saying, her heart started to race. She couldn't find any words, so she used her actions.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips back to his eyes, leaning in slow in case he wanted to back out. He matched her actions, leaning in connecting their lips. She runs her hand through his hair deepening the kiss.

"What the hell did we miss?" Dean's voice pulled them out of their daze, pulling apart from each other.

"Hey guys" she nervously smiled

"Hey" Dean mocked "Should we get you two lovebirds your own room?" he laughed

"Leave them alone" Sam said "c'mon rooms this way" he led the group towards the motel room

Dean walked in between Castiel and Y/N one arm on each of them pulling them in for an awkward hug.

"Isn't this great, my two best pals together. I can hear the wedding bells already!"

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[marvelfanfn2187a113]

It Takes A Village

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Included characters: Sam, Rowena, Gabriel, Crowley, and Cas

Synopsis: you’re turning nine, and the whole gang has rolled up to celebrate

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, it’s super short

When Dean went to visit Lisa on Ben’s birthday, there were a lot of things he didn’t expect to happen. First of all, he didn’t expect she’d have a son. Second, he certainly didn’t expect that son to (quite possibly) be his. And third, he definitely didn’t expect to make another child. But that’s what happened, and here he is nine years later with a little girl that’s growing up way too fast.

“When did you get so big?” Dean surprises himself by speaking out loud what he’d been thinking. You turn in surprise, your brow arching.

“Dad? You’re not gonna get all weird on me, are you?”

Dean rolls his eyes, trying to wave off his moment of nostalgia.

“What? No, of course not. No, it’s just…I mean, it feels like you were turning one yesterday and now you’re—“

“Oh for heavens’ sake, Dean, leave the girl alone. She’s turning nine, not ninety.” The Scottish accent proceeded the red head of a certain witch as she entered the bunker.

“Auntie Row!” You yell, running to the witch and hugging her despite her protests that you would “wrinkle her outfit”.

“Yes yes, hello sweet thing,” Rowena greeted. “Happy Birthday.”

“Did someone have a birthday today?” Several eyes rolled at the introduction of a certain archangel. “Oh, that’s right, my favorite Winchester!”

“Uncle Gabe!” You greeted the archangel just as eagerly as you had the witch, only Gabriel returned your hug without complaint.

“Hey, gummy bear! You having a good birthday?” At your eager nod, he continued, “Well, it’s going to be even better now, because the real party is here!”

“Is that what you’re calling yourself now?” Castiel scoffed as he entered the room bearing an armload of presents. “And since when did I become the gift-bearer?”

“Since none of us wanted to carry in our things,” Rowena stated. “So thank you for volunteering.”

Cas grumbled something about not volunteering, and you giggled.

“Thanks, Uncle Cas!” You said.

“Now now, he’s not the only one helping out here. I mean, what’s a party without the cake?”

“Uncle Crowley!” Sam took the cake from Crowley’s hands just in time for you to slam into him. Crowley staggered for a moment before hugging you back, trying not to look too pleased at your warm greeting—he had a reputation to keep, after all.

“Hello, little demon,” Crowley greeted, and for once Dean bit his tongue—he’d already told Crowley a million times not to call his daughter a demon, but he didn’t want to start a fight on your birthday. “You didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

“Of course not,” you assured him. “Can we have cake now?”

“Cake before presents?” Rowena asked. “Now sweet thing, don’t you want to see what you’ve got?”

“Hey, if she wants cake it’s fine by me,” Dean spoke up, eyeing the mountain of frosting in front of him.

One wave of Crowley’s hand had the lights out, and a wave of Rowena’s had the candles on your cake lit.

As Dean sang, he looked around at the strange group singing with him. Somehow along the way, he had found coparents in his brother, an archangel, the king of hell, a fallen angel, and a witch.

It was an unusual crew to be sure, but he knew that everyone around him would do anything to protect his baby girl.

He could think of a million safer worlds for you to grow up in, but he knew that you wouldn’t pick a single one over this family.

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