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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 9 months

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Confessions

-Warnings// ANGST, FLUFF AND LOT OF SMUT also a lil summery: basically reader has feelings for dean they end up in the sheets you get the gist

-Dean x reader

-Word count// 2931

(Gif from Pinterest)

It was a long night and all you wanted was to get some sleep, the hunt took a lot out you, the spirit threw you against the wall and you banged your shoulder up pretty good, Dean was able to pop it right back into place but a dull ache remained, heading to the impala you slide into the back seat holding your arm trying to help ease the pain, Dean started up the car once him and Sam were in heading straight for the first motel you guys find

Finally it didn't take long until Dean was pulling into a parking lot, you slid out of the car stretching your sore muscles a small moan accidentally slipping from your lips which only Dean caught, he turned smirking at you "we should get a separate room so I can listen to that sound all night" Dean said in a flirty tone, Dean and you were always being flirty with each other, it was fun at first but when your feelings for dean grew and he was still sleeping with other girls he met at bars but flirting with you it just hurt so you held back hoping he'd just stop so you could move on and get over him

You just rolled your eyes in a playful manner hoisting your bag over your good shoulder "you wish Winchester, if we get two rooms I'm getting one for myself and you two can share" Dean shook his head smirking "here let me grab your bag take the weight off your shoulder" he gently grabbed the bag carrying it along with his own towards the motel.

Once at the reception desk as Sam spoke with the receptionist booking a room with two beds, the usual, you used to share with dean all the time but things were different when you fell for him, unless he was staying with his hook up and you could get your own bed you bunked with Sam so you didn't have to be so close to dean

"You can bunk with me tonight sweetheart" Dean said putting your bag on the best closest to the door "oh that's okay Sam already said I could sleep in his bed" you said quickly hoping that would be the end of it and you could get some sleep

"I don't know Y/N Sam's a restless sleeper he could end up knocking your shoulder out again, remember the time he accidentally kicked you out of bed in New York and broke your wrist" Dean said and he had a fair point, Sam was pretty rough to sleep beside especially when injured poor guy tossed and turned all night

"I guess your right, maybe I'll stay on the couch so it's safer" you said turning to look at the dusty couch that was probably a century old dean made a face "no chance that couch looks like someone died on it, look I'll take the couch you take the bed" Dean said making you disagree immediately "no you take the bed I'll be fine Dean" Dean clapped his hands together as he sat on the couch "okay we have two options I take the couch or we share the bed" you sighed knowing you weren't gonna let him sleep on a couch because of your stupid feelings for him

"We'll share" you said moving towards the bathroom to shower. Once the bathroom door was closed dam was on his feet "alright I'm gonna go get pizzas I'm starving what do you want?" He asked grabbing the impalas keys "uh just do pepperoni and get large Y/N I can share cause I know you're a pineapple on a pizza kind of freak" sam gave Dean a bitch face before replying "it's good Dean you would like it if you tried it" before Dean could reply there was a muffled yell from the closed bathroom door "no your just a pineapple freak sweetie" Dean let out a laugh as Sam muttered he'd be back in a half hour.

When you stepped out the bathroom 10 minutes later you were in a park of shorts and an old shirt of Sam's, your hair slightly damp as you only fowl dried it, Dean was sat on the bed as he waited for you

"hey can we talk?" He asked running a hand over his mouth "yeah of course, whats on your mind?" You asked confused, Dean sighed as he got up from the bed walking until he was in front of you "why are you avoiding me so much? Did i do something to piss you off because I've wracked my brain for days trying to figure out what I did but I just can't figure it out" this was the last thing you wanted, for him to feel like he did something wrong "you didn't do anything Dean I'm just going through something right now and I'm not ready to talk about it" you said hoping he'd just let it go

"But you're fine with Sam? I just don't get it Y/N we've been best friends for years now you're avoiding me at all costs, just tell me what I did to you so I can try and fix it" Dean said his voice slightly raising as he was getting frustrated "there's nothing to fix Dean" you said defensively "well obviously there is if you don't even want to share a bed with me out of nowhere when we've done it hundreds of times before, what could I have possibly done to hurt you" he yelled "nothing Dean for the last fucking time you didn't do anythi-" "well then what's your problem!" Dean yelled cutting you off

"You! Your my problem Winchester!" You yelled folding your arms over your chest too upset to even feel the pain in your shoulder, Dean seemed taken aback by your outburst as he stayed silent for a moment "...what's that supposed to mean" he said taking a step towards you "your my problem Dean, do you have any idea how it feels to see the person you love chasing girl after girl in every goddam state" you yelled feeling the hot tears fall down your cheeks

Dean stared at you his eyes wide and jaw was slack "you love me" he questioned softly "just forget I said anything I'm just gonna leave" you wiped your hands down your cheeks to dry them as you moved to put your shoes on, you didn't get far before dean was grabbing your arm he tugged you to turn and face him, he moved one hand to wrap around your waist and the other was placed at the back of your head, before you could ask what the hell he was doing Dean was leaning in and capturing your lips in a searing kiss taking you by surprise

You quickly regained you're composure you kissed back running your hands up his chest to rest on his flannel covered shoulders, the hand that was on your waist moved to rest under your ass so dean could hoist you up to wrap your legs around his hips, you moaned as deans hands gripped your ass holding you closer to him, Dean took advantage of your parted lips by slipping his tongue into the kiss

While he held you in his arms he walked you toward the bed Dean broke the kiss before gently tossing you down on the moldy motel bed, you stared up at him and smiled when he rushed to remove the red checkered flannel from his body leaving him in his grey shirt under neath which too made its way to the floor leaving deans chest completely bare

You got up on your knees booking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him to fall on the bed his body hovered over yours, you wrapped your legs his hips pulling him closer, Dean kissed a trail up your neck back to your lips, you smiled into the kiss as Dean moved his hands to pull your shirt over your head tossing it to the rest of the pile ok the floor, leaving you in a white lace bra, Dean smirked as he unhooked your bra throwing it behind him leaving you chest completely bare, your nipples hardened at the cool air

Dean licked his lips as his warm hands wrapped around your breasts "like what you see handsome" Dean's hands moved from your breasts down your waist to the hem of your shorts his fingers slipping under "you have no idea sweetheart" Dean said biting his kiss swollen bottom lip he began piling you shorts and panties down as you lifted your hips from the bed to help his movements

Your shorts and panties joined the floor you pulled Dean down in a rough kiss your fingers running through his short spiky hair, you moaned at the feeling of deans Jean clad member pressed against your hot wet pussy, dean moved his lips down to your jaw as he nipped and sucked at your sweet spot leaving a deep purple mark in its place

You loved dean away by his shoulders making him look at you confused and worried he's taken things too far "I don't think it's fair I'm the only naked one now Winchester" you said as you trialed your fingers down deans taut abdomen to his belt buckle, you quickly threw his belt to the floor before rushing to unzip his jeans, Dean pulled his jeans and boxers down before getting back on top of you attacking your swollen lips with his once again

Dean pulled away from the kiss "son of a bitch! I don't have a condom" you giggled playing with the short hair on his head "I'm on the pill" deans smile grew and he leaned down kissing his way down your chest, his lips wrapped around your nipple as he gave it a gentle bite, giving the same attention to your other breast, only stopping him when he went to move lower "you okay?" He asked either arms resting on the side of you

You nodded with a smile "we gotta be quick Sam won't be much longer" you said and dean nodded knowing you were right, while making his way up your body Dean gave you hip a playful bite causing you to squeal

Now face to face once again dean leaned down capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, you wrapped your legs around his hips pulling him closer to you his cock pressing against your core moaning when he moved his length up your pussy, teasing you

"Dean I can't take the teasing please do something" you begged, Dean smirked as his tip pressed against your dripping hole, finally he pushed in stretching you out inch by inch

You scraped your fingers through deans scalp when he was all the way inside you "you okay sweetheart" he asked noticing your scrunched yo face "yeah totally fine, you can move now I'm ready" you said leaning up to kiss him deeply

Dean placed both hands at the back your thighs pushing them up against your chest as he started to thrust inside of you at a slow pace, the position allowing him to hit your G spot with every slam of his hips "oh Dean that feels so fucking good" you moaned arching your back

"God your so tight" Dean groaned as he picked up his pace, thrusting faster, the only sound in the room was moans and the sound of skin slapping skin, the feeling of being completely bare inside of you was you crazy, feeling every movement his cock made inside you without the latex keeping you from truly feeling him

You scraped your nails down deans back as he continued to slam inside of you driving you closer and closer to your release, "I'm so close dean" you cried out feeling the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust, dean moved his hand down to your core his fingers moving quickly on your clit making you scream, your head slamming against the dusty pillow as your orgasm washed over you coating deans cock in your release

Dean continued to work your shaking body through your orgasm, finally the bliss was wearing off you looked up locking eyes with dean "you didn't finish?" You questioned and dean shakes his head smiling "we didn't have much time sweetheart I was more focused on getting you off" he shrugged moving to pull out

You moved your legs to wrap around his waist as you flipped him onto his back leaving your straddling his hips, Dean looked up at you shocked "we have plenty of time" you said easing yourself down on his cock once again, Dean let out a soft moan as he moved his hands to your waist, he helped your move up and down his length

You continued to bounce up and down deans cock, deans eyes were mesmerised on hour breasts as they bounced with every movement, he moved his hands to grab your tits holding them in his big warm hands "you're fucking amazing Y/N" Dean moaned

Your braced your hands on deans shoulders as your quickened your movements, moaning when dean leaned forward taking your nipple into his moth as he bit gently and sucked, you knew he was close as his hands tightened their grip on your hip and breast "I'm so close beautiful" he groaned against your chest as he continued sucking deep purple marks

"Me too baby" you moaned bouncing harder on deans cock, your thighs slamming down against deans, you started to feel the burn in your thighs as you continued to bounce, determined to get dean to cum

Dean groaned as he felt his own orgasm approaching quickly, he moved his hands down to grab your ass but not before I delivering a hard slap on it making you scream his name

Dean groaned loudly "oh fuck!", closing his eyes as you felt him cum inside you, coating your walls in hot white spurts triggering your own orgasm making you scream out deans name

Once your breathing had calmed you giggled, moving on shaky legs to get off dean, he laughed along side you tucking you closely into his side, you moved your arm to wrap around him, your hand trailed up to trace his anti possession tattoo "I think that was the best sex I've ever had" Dean broke the silence making you smile and look up at him from your place on his chest "well I'm honoured, it was pretty god for me too" you joked

Dean let out a loud laugh "oh come on gorgeous tell me I'm the best sex you've had" you squealed when deans fingers started to attack your sides tickling you "alright! your the best sec I've ever had" you laughed squirming in deans arms as he tickled you.

You and Dean laid there talking for a few minutes before you heard the door opening "alright I'm back I stopped to get some beer too-oh my god in here stinks of sex, seriously guys!" Sam said staring at the couple in the bed cuddled under the sheets, Dean was laying with a smirk on his face

“Sorry Sammy, be glad you didn’t get walk in 10 minutes ago or you would really be traumatised” Dean joked making Sam roll his eyes “whatever, I’m giving you both 5 minutes to get dressed because it want to eat my pizza without you two being naked in bed!” Sam said closing the door behind him

“Guess we’d better get dressed” you said moving to pull away from dean, he grabbed your arm gently pulling you back down to the bed as he hovered above you slightly, he leaned down giving your lips a gentle kiss making you smile cupping his cheek in your hand “what’s that for?” You questioned when he pulled away

“because i love you, I have for a while now I just didn’t want to screw anything up, your my best friend I don’t want to loose that, but I want to be with you, I want you to be my girlfriend, so what do you say Y/N?” Dean asked making you smile

“I love you too Dean so yeah I’ll be your girlfriend, however you gotta take me on a date to make it official ” you said giving him a quick peck on lips before moving away to pull your clothes on again

Dean laughed as he pulled his pants back on “I think we just made it pretty official tonight sweetheart” Dean said making you roll your eyes with a smile “it’s safe to come in now” you called to the closed door and the younger Winchester was coming in his signature bitch face making an appearance as he opened the windows “seriously I’m happy for you guys but next time get your own room” Sam said

Dean chuckled “you better wear earplugs from now on Sammy” Dean said taking a slice of pizza from the box and taking a sip of beer moving to take a seat on the couch next to you “your disgusting dean” Sam said with a roll of his eyes you giggled at the brotherly banter

“I don’t mind it one bit” you said gabbing Deans jaw and pulling him into a quick kiss making the younger Winchester gag causing you both to end the kiss while laughing against each others lips.

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ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

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i-think-he-is-adorable-too · 5 months

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In your dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: You had just gone to sleep, only to find him in your dreams. Could he be real or is he just a figment of your imagination.

A/N: Hello! I have this idea for a series, let me know if you would like to read it and I will keep writing it. I promise! If you like it I will stablish a calendar and post regularly. What do you think? Should I do it? Let me know!

It almost felt like it started out of nowhere, but if you were to really think about it, you would remember how much your soul yearned for it, specially that night.

You had fallen asleep crying into your pillow, muffling the sounds to not wake up anyone. Next thing you know you were standing in a simple motel room with two double beds and a tv. The man sitting on the bed was mumbling to himself while trying to fix the remote control. The moment you set your eyes on him, even from behind, you recognized him. You could have thought about the actor who played him, but somehow you knew. Ultimately it was your dream.

“Dean?” you wondered out loud. He stood up and turned to face you quickly. “Who are you? What are you doing in my dreams?” He asked. You stared at him confused, “What do you mean? This is my dream.” You clarified. “No, no, sweetheart. This is my dream, I’m really sure about it.” He argued. “Well, we can agree to disagree. Because I’m certain it´s my dream. After all you are fictional.” You responded.

“Woah, whoa. Stop right there. What do you mean fictional?” He demanded. “You are not real, you Dean Winchester are a fictional character from Supernatural, and you are played by Jensen Ackles.” You said exasperated. You had thought this dream would be good, it wasn’t every night you dreamt of your favorite fictional boyfriend, but the conversation was getting ridiculous. You have had crazy dreams, but here you were, explaining to a tv character that he wasn’t real.

He threw his head into his hands and said “Not this again. Are you an angel? Have I been sent into that weird world again where Sam is married to Ruby?”

“What? No, that was just an episode. And that’s actually similar to my world, but you haven’t been sent anywhere, because you are just a figment of my imagination.” You explained. “But that’s just the thing sweetheart, I’m real. You however, I have my doubts, I probably saw you somewhere on the street and my mind is toying with me.” He finished thoughtful. “And anyway, even if you were real, and I was fictional, why would you be dreaming of me?” He asked teasingly.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you stopped making eye contact. Great, now your subconscious was embarrassing you. “No reason, you know how dreams can be.” You said downplaying it. He walked towards you. “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart but it won’t be that kind of dream… unless you really want it to be.” He winked, looked at the bed and laughed. “Stop it” You said, blushing.

“So… now that we have stablished that neither of us believes the other one is real, and if you were, you would probably be in love with me. I’d like to know your name.” He expressed. You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. “Y/N” You said. “My name is Y/N”

“Y/N” he tested your name “I like it. It fits you.” He continued while watching you intensely. You felt a little dizzy, probably because you were holding your breath. It felt as if his eyes were really pulling you in. He took another step towards you, and before you could say anything else, you heard your alarm ring and opened your eyes to find yourself back in your bed.

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #supernatural imagine #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut

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justkending · 1 year

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It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

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“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created.

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me.

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?”

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt.

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.”

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare.

He ignored him and rolled his eyes.

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already.

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately.

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.”

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs.

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen.

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets.

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself.

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed.

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips.

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me.

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far.

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside.

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around.

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way.

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.”

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands.

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it.

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it.

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean.

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself.

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on.

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders.

He was in the perfect position for my plan.

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him.

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place.

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it.

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me.

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it.

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months.

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold.

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited.

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him.

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath.

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off.

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute.

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly.

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him.

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge.

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better.

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust.

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.”

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before.

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over.

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game.

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs.

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly.

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs.

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt.

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own.

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back.

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head.

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure.

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power.

Two can play that game.

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips.

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect.

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips.

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit.

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet.

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me.

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it.

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately.

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about.

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed.

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed.

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled.

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places.

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up.

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily.

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered.

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued.

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.”

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.”

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.”

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of.

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me.

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.”

“What side?” I looked up at him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back.

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader drabble #dean winchester drabble #justkending #spn fanfic #dean winchester spn #dean winchester x you #spn dean winchester #drabble #spn drabble

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jawritter · 2 years

Text

Dean’s Birthday Surprise

Summary: Y/N get’s Dean a kinky surprise for his 44th Birthday!

Warnings: 18 + Only!! HERE THERE BE SMUT!!!! NO ONE UNDER 18 SHOULD READ THIS FIC!!! Crotchless panties, girl on top, fingering, language, nudity. P & V smut.

Written For: @spnkinkevents

Prompt: Crotchless Panties

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2k

A/N: A little something I through together for our best boy’s birthday! This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Dean’s POV:

Dean felt old, and he hated every minute of it.

Honestly, he never expected to live to see 44 years of age. He figured he was gonna die bloody as a young man. When he was 43 he came damn close to it.

Still, here he stands. Alive, well, and more than a little depressed.

He couldn't understand it really, how he got old. One minute he was a young man, hunting, and had the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand. Next, he was being told her had "dad bod", whatever the fuck that was.

Logically, Dean knew he wasn't old, he just didn't expect to live this long. He didn't know what to do with his life from here. Sure, he had Y\N, but how long could he expect that to last really? She was young, beautiful, smart, hell, he was surprised every day he woke up and she was still laying with her head on his chest. Fuck if he'd ever understand why she loved him, but she said she did.

"Happy birthday handsome," her voice sounded from behind him as her arms wrapped around his middle, and her head rested on his back. Good he didn't deserve her. She was far too perfect for him. Still, he was selfish, and he loved her, so he did everything he could to make her stay.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out after clearing his throat. He stopped the sponge in his hand into the soap filled bucket at his feet so that he could rest his hand on top of hers.

"You gonna take her for a spin now that you got her all clean?" She questioned, sliding herself around to stand in front of him moving her hands to rest on his shoulders.

Dean hummed before pressing his lips to her own in a brief kiss. To brief for his liking, normally he was much more thorough. He was just so trapped in his head. Maybe a drive would do him some good. Being alone in Baby always helped clear his head.

"Yeah, I think I will…"

"Good," she quipped quickly. "Cause when you get home I got a surprise for my favorite birthday boy."

"Aw baby," Dean said with an exhausted sigh. " I told you that you didn't have to make a fuss over me."

"No argument Mr.! "She fussed, shoving his shoulders playfully and earning a genuine smirk from him. "Now, you go take a ride, clear your head so you can get out of whatever headspace you're trapped in there, and we're gonna have some time alone with the bunker all to ourselves."

Dean sighed heavily before leaning forward to peck her lips again.

"Where's Sammy gonna be?" Dean questioned, turning to stare at his girl, who was leaning against her bright red, classic Mustang. Admiring him like he was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen. God he really, really didn't deserve her.

"He and Eileen have a date tonight, and he said he's already planning to stay there at her house," Y/N answered. "Now GO! I got to get ready for your present."

"Fine, fine," Dean waved her off and opened the car door, shaking his head in disbelief at this woman and how she could possibly love him.

Y/N POV:

Three hours later, Y/N found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup with nothing on but a short, black silk robe, and a pair of lace, crotchless panties.

Normally, Dean wasn't much for theatrics. 'They're just gonna end up on the floor anyway', he says, but Y/N knew that he enjoyed these kinda things more than he wanted to admit. He just didn't want her to feel like she HAD to do this kinda thing for him. Like he didn't deserve the extra attention. Y/N disagree, honestly she wished he'd let her do more. She would just have to settle for birthdays and special occasions, today just happened to be Dean's birthday.

Besides, when he saw her in this, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t gonna have enough blood left in his brain to argue about it with her anyway.

She quickly brushed her hand through her hair to give herself some volume, and smiled victorious at the image of the woman she’d created staring back at her. She was quite proud of this look if she did say so herself.

As if on cue, Y/N heard the distinct sound of the bunker garage door closing, and she knew she had just a few minutes before Dean came wandering into their shared room. He was very much a creature of habit, or else this surprise would have been a lot harder to pull off.

Still, knowing Dean the way she did, she hurried to position herself on the bed, first trying laying in her side, but that didn’t really work for, then she tried laying her back, but that really didn’t do it, so she tried a fail safe, something she knew Dean enjoyed, even if he didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed it, and that was her on her knees, in the middle of the bed, waiting for him like the good girl he loved so much.

She had no more loosened the ties on her kaminio, revealing the perfect swells of her supple breast, than the bedroom door cracked open, and Dean stepped in, still looking at his phone.

“Hey baby, I’m hungry, I’m think about ordering a piz—”

Dean’s words died somewhere in his throat when he looked up to find Y/N kneeling in the center of the bed, legs spread just enough to not reveal too much, but enough to be inviting, and nothing but a thin, black slick gathering of fabric covering his prize. His phone slipped from his fingers, and landed on the floor along with his jaw, and she couldn’t help but smirk in victory.

“Happy birthday De,” she voiced as he started to robotically kick off his shoes, as well as shed his jacket, attempting to shed all of the layers he had on as fast as he possibly could. “Why don’t you come on over here and open up your present?”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, as he ripped his shirt off his head, leaving a cute, hedgehog hairstyle behind. He was already working his belt and jeans loose before he started to move towards the bed, hungry green eyes taking in all that they could devour.

“Goddamit baby girl, you’re gonna give a man a heart attack,” Dean mumbled as he climbed onto the bed knees first. His hands already reached for her hips to pull her as flush to him as she could before their lips collided with one another in a deep, need filled kiss.

“So I take it that you like it then,” she questioned as she pulled away from him, leaving him chasing her kiss with the most adorable disgruntled face. Almost as if he was confused and offended at her for taking her lips away from his too soon.

“Fuck yeah I do,” he said, his thick, capable fingers already pulling the thin black tigh loose, causing her covering to fall apart, and reveal his real resent underneath.

“Are those crotchless,” his graveled voice trimmed down from his perfect, pink, kiss swollen lips in almost a whisper.

Y/N shrugged, smirking. “Well Dean, you said that these kinda things are pointless because they always ended up on the floor anyway, so I decided I’d save you the trouble and just get a pair of easy access ones that can stay on.”

As she spoke, Dean’s mouth attacked her throat, laying the pair of them back onto the bed behind her carefully. His cock already hard and straining against his black boxers, begging to be released, so she obliged, and slid them down his hips so that he could kick them off, leaving himself bare before her.

“How did I get so damn lucky?” Dean questioned just as his perfect mouth sealed over her already erect nipple from the cool temperature of the room contrasting with the fire that Dean was already stoking inside of her. His fingers slipped between her folds, teasing her already sensitive clit as he worked her over, making it harder and harder for her to concentrate. “So fucking beautiful Y/N.”

“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one De,” she managed to say between desperate pants as Dean moved over to the other breast, determined to not leave anyone out, and slipped his thick fingers into her slick heat with ease, curing them in all the right places as he slowly pumped them in and out of her dripping cunt, causing the cord in her stomach to wind tighter and tighter until she was cumming undone underneath him, screaming his name like a prayer.

“So fucking beautiful Y/N/N,” he repeated as he kissed his way back up to her face, leaving as many little wet, opened mouthed kisses as he could muster as he did while she slowly decended from the high he’d driven her too.

“Your turn handsome, it is your birthday after all,” she tried to sit up, but he stopped her, his wide palm resting softly against her shoulder to hold her back down as he pumped his pink, fully erect, leaking cock in his hand.

“No, no princess, it’s my present, and I”ll play with it however I want too, and baby I wanna watch,” he growled as he carefully slid his swollen length through her slick, gathering as much of her juices as he could before sliding into welcoming center, moaning audibly as he watched her body close in around him, covered in black lace.

He pumped slowly there, watching his body disappear into her own, mesmerized by sight that lay underneath him, and she shivered as each slow drag of his manhood through her quivering cunt drover her too damn near insanity, stretching her and filling her, but never quite giving her what she needed.

Without warning, Dean flipped the pair of them over, settling her on top of him so that he could watch her more easily, totally and completely captivated, like a man starved, or a blind man seeing for the first time. She would never understand why he always looked at her like that. Not when she felt like the lucky one.

Dean was a man of few words, but he didn’t have to say anything as she slowly rose and lowered herself on his dick, causing him to toss his head back and his eyes to roll momentarily as his hips rose and feel to meet her pace until neither of them could take it anymore and she began to ride him in earnest. Leaving the room filled with sounds of heavy breath and skin against skin.

Dean’s thick fingers sank deep into her thighs as he rolled his hips up to meet her, he was so close, she could see it in the way he strained to hold on as long as he could, drag it out as long as possible, until his body was shaking underneath her own, and his dick twitched heavily as he came deep inside of her, triggering her own release as well.

“Sammy’s gone all night you said?” Dean panted as helped her off of his softening cock to lay down on his heaving chest,

“Yep, all night,” she chuckled.

“Good,” he replied, “cause in fifteen minutes we’re going again.”

Forever:

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe

@jensenslady79

@spnwoman

@stoneyggirl2

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@stixnstripesworld

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@nancymcl

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@whiskey-infused-dreams

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@chevyharvelle

@i-love-superhero-movies

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

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@idksupernatural

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@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@flamencodiva

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@b3autyfuldisast3r

@donnaintx

@maliburenee

@the-family-business67

@agirlwithdemonblood

@captainsoldiergirl

@twinkleinadiamondsky

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma

@impalaslytherin

@perpetualabsurdity

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles

@irmcpar

@pink-sparkly-witch

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#spnkinkevent #spnkinkbingo #spnkinkbingo2023 #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester one shot #spn one shot #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #jensen ackles

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laurie-stark · 5 months

Text

Only A Moment

(not my gif)

Summary: Another hunt goes wrong, but this time it leads to some...unconventional release of anger.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairings: Sam Winchester x OC

A/N: you guys on tumblr deserved this too

Once again, the drive back to the motel was silent. A knife could slice right through the tension in the air, and Kath was tempted to try. Bobby had sent them on another demon goose chase, this time in Minnesota. They made it out without a scratch, but only barely. The demon was stronger than average and possessed the body of a little girl. And demon or not, no one wants to hurt a little girl. To Sam and Kath, the answer was obvious. Sam could trick shot the demon back to hell in less than five minutes and they would all be on their merry way. Dean said no. After an hour of back and forth between the boys, Sam decided he was old enough to stop listening to his big brother. The little girl was returned home to her parents before the night was over. And the night was far from over.

Kath bit her lip in the backseat of Baby the car. She glanced nervously between the two brothers. Dean was stiff as he drove, going well above the speed limit. Sam had his head leaning against the window. It was not often that Kath disagreed with Dean. For most of their lives together she’d follow him blindly. It was second nature. But Sam’s addiction was something they could not find a middle ground on. Dean didn't understand. He was human after all. He didn’t have a disease coursing through his veins. He wasn’t created as the product of all things good and evil. He did not understand.

The moment Dean pulled into the parking lot, he unleashed weather greater than God on his baby brother. Kath sighed and ran a hand over her face. This was not helping. At this point in their journey, Sam was not in the mood to be chastised. He had saved them, saved everyone. Dean should be grateful. Sam got out of the car while Dean was mid-sentence, slamming the door on his way into the motel room.

Dean had about a million rules when it came to Baby, and slamming her car doors was a felony. Kath inhaled sharply, not because the sound of the door scared her, but because she could literally see Dean’s face turning a bright shade of red. If she squinted she could see steam coming out of his ears.

“That little shit!” Dean said, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. He moved to get out of the car but Kath stopped him.

“Dean stop,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “You know as well as I do that we were trapped. If Sam hadn’t done what he did then we’d all be as good as dead.”

Dean was not listening. “That’s not saying much since Sammy’s already halfway gone to hell.” The sentence stung Kath and it wasn’t even aimed at her. To anyone else, the idea of going to hell was a passing thought. Coming from Dean though, Kath couldn’t believe he’d say something like that. Not after the thirty years Dean endured. For Sam, she might add. Kath opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. And Dean was already halfway into the motel room.

Kath entered the musty motel room to the brothers having a catfight. They were shouting so loudly that Kath couldn’t make out what was being said. She almost got trampled by Dean as she walked through the doorway. He pushed past her, got into his car, and drove off into the night. It all happened so fast that Kath got dizzy. She got a grip on her footing and gently closed the motel door, locking it with a click. Sam was pacing across the floor with his hands in his hair.

“Don’t let him get to you Sammy, he doesn’t get it,” Kath said. She took a few steps towards him so he would stop pacing. It always made her nervous. Sam stopped in his tracks. His hands dropped to his side and he stared at her blankly.

“Can you shut up?”

Kath’s jaw dropped. In all their years of bickering and pissing one another off, he had never once told her to shut up. In fact, Sam told her on numerous occasions how much he valued her opinions. She was shocked.

“Well fuck me for trying to be helpful!” Kath threw her hands up in defeat. “You are such an asshole, you know that?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Sam muttered under his breath, ignoring Kath’s asshole comment.

“What?” Kath asked, not hearing what Sam said.

“I said you’re full of shit,” Sam responded. “You think you know me? You think you understand what I am? You have no idea what it’s like to be…to be this.” Sam gestured to himself. “I’m poisonous Kath.”

“Do I need to remind you that you’re not the only one who learned life-changing information? There is no part of me that’s human! I have been a walking vessel from the moment I was born Sam. So fuck you for saying I don’t understand.”

The vein in Sam’s forehead was beginning to grow, which meant Kath was really getting under his skin. Normally she wouldn’t dig herself any deeper, but he was rude to her when she just wanted him to know she cared. He had it coming.

“At least I can say I’ve got some good in me. You’re closer to evil than I’ll ever be.”

Sam closed his hands into fists. He brought one up to his mouth to bite his tongue. Although his stature would never show it, Kath’s statement hurt Sam down to his core. It was in his nature to be evil and he fought against it in his every waking moment.

Kath stared at Sam through furrowed brows. She waited for him to respond, to retort with a snarky comment about how she was acting like a brat or a princess or one of the other thousand remarks he’d made before. His silence scared her. His posture was furious, but his eyes were hurt. She knew she had taken it too far.

“Look,” Kath started. “I’m sorry. We’re both exhausted. Let’s just forget about it.” She didn’t wait for a response. Kath stepped past him to go take a much-needed shower. With one wrong footstep, she accidentally pushed her shoulder against his. The impact made Sam stumble sideways. She hadn’t meant to push him, but he didn’t know that. He was fed up with her and the way she made him feel. Like he was worth something and worthless all at once.

Without thinking Sam grabbed hold of Kath’s right arm tightly. He pulled her towards him, her back flush against his chest. He felt her inhale sharply. He leaned his head down to the space between her chin and her shoulder. Kath could feel his warm breath tickling her neck.

“What are you doing?” Kath asked, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Truthfully, Sam didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he was angry and she was there. And from the way her hips pressed back against him, he could tell she wanted something as much as he did. Sam loosened his grip as Kath twisted her neck to look up at him. Kath’s eyes were wide with confusion, Sam’s looked at her with desire. Their lips were dangerously close to one another. Something in the air snapped and it was unclear who made the first move. But the next thing Kath knew, she was kissing Sam with force she didn’t know she was capable of.

Sam’s hands were all over Kath’s body, turning her so that she was facing him completely. He brought a hand up to cup her chin, tilting it upward so he could get more access to her mouth. All of Kath’s better judgment had flown out the window. She let Sam devour her, tongues clashing and hands flying. The kiss took all the air out of her lungs. Sam leaned back to let them both take a breath before leaning down to kiss her once again. Clarity washed over Kath as she inhaled and suddenly she was very aware of what was going on. She pushed both hands against his chest, putting some much-needed space between their bodies.

Sam and Kath stood on opposite ends of the motel room. The light above them flickered in time with their laboured breaths. What the hell was that? Kath was unsure, but deep down she liked it. Something inside her burned and ached for more. She stood a little taller, shoulders back a little straighter. Her mind was clear this time and she took one long stride towards Sam. In one fluid moment, she pulled his head down to hers and their lips met again. This time, it was Kath who enveloped Sam in an embrace. The sudden movements made Sam stumble backward until his back hit the wall behind him. He braced his weight against it, letting it hold him up so he could focus his strength on kissing Kath. Neither one of them knew where all this passion was coming from, but they weren’t exactly eager to stop it. Sam groaned into Kath’s mouth as her fingers tangled in his soft hair, tugging ever so slightly. Kath smirked inwardly at that, making a mental note to do that again later.

Sam’s hands were erratic, travelling from the nape of Kath’s neck down to her waist. He wanted to explore every inch of her. The tips of his fingers made their way underneath her tank top. She gasped at the contact and pressed her body closer to his. She could feel his heart racing underneath his shirt. She wanted, no she needed to feel him. She had never done anything like this before. Sure there was the odd townsboy she’d meet on a hunt, but she had never done anything more than kiss them. She had no idea what she was doing, but at the same time, it felt natural. Kath broke the kiss hastily and started to tug on the hem of Sam’s shirt, signalling that she wanted it gone. Sam slowly placed his hands on top of hers, stopping her. She looked at him confused. Wasn’t this the natural next step?

“Do you want this?” Sam’s voice was low against her neck. Kath nodded. “I need to hear you say it, Kath.” In all that she knew about sex, she wasn’t aware there was supposed to be talking. Could Sam not feel how badly she wanted this?

“Please,” Kath said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam pulled back in surprise. “Please?” He echoed, almost mocking her. A dark smirk fell across his face and he tilted his head sideways. “I can work with that.”

Sam’s hands grip Kath’s hips tightly and he walks her backwards towards the motel bed. She almost trips over it, landing flat on her ass with Sam towering over her. She is reminded of the last time they were alone in a motel room together like this. She’d wanted him then too. Now she could have him.

Sam gestured for Kath to move up the bed and she complied. He was impressively large above her. He began to crawl towards her, leaving a trail of kisses up her body as he went. When he reached her mouth he paused and took her in. Kath looked different below him. Fragile, but not breakable. He took her mouth once again, this time bringing his knee between her legs as he did. Kath moaned into the kiss as Sam’s body contacted the place where she was most sensitive. Her body had a mind of its own. She ground her hips against Sam’s thigh. Sam felt his chest seize as she did. He kissed her deeply, then began making his way back down her neck, sucking on the sensitive points. He knew he would leave marks in the morning but right now he did not care.

Kath was making the most beautiful breathy noises Sam had ever heard. He’d give anything to get her to continue making them. Shirts went flying and Sam’s mouth travelled back down the way he came and eventually, he slid off the bed onto his knees. Kath propped herself onto her elbows to get a better angle of him. Her breath caught in her throat when Sam took hold of her hips and dragged her toward the end of the bed. She let out a small yelp. Sam chuckled.

“What are you doing?” Kath asked for the second time that night. It occurred to her then that they had no idea when Dean might come back. Sam’s hands ran the length of her legs and the thought left her mind. All of her thoughts, actually. Sam slowly began to unbutton Kath’s jeans. Her heartbeat doubled. As if he could sense it, and maybe he could, Sam stopped.

“Is this okay?” He looked up at her with his puppy dog eyes. She smiled down at him.

“Yeah,” she breathed. Sam continued to unbutton her pants, taking an excruciatingly long time. Kath fought the urge to whine at him to hurry up. Once Sam had undone the final button, he tugged at the hem of her jeans.

“Lift.” It wasn’t a question. Kath lifted her hips and to her surprise Sam pulled her pants and underwear off all at once, leaving her completely exposed to him. The sight of Kath’s naked body made Sam’s mouth water. He stayed motionless by the edge of the bed for some time, just taking her in. She was beautiful. Kath felt herself grow a little embarrassed just laying like a pig on a platter. She sat up and scooted towards Sam, pulling him closer to her. He nestled between her legs while her arms linked around his neck. She took the opportunity to study his face. Loose brown curls fell around his face, and she was playing with the ones at the nape of his neck. Kath took to examining his face with her hands, tracing his eyebrows down to his nose and over the one freckle on Sam’s cheek.

“What are you doing,” Sam asked in a mocking tone. He gave her a smile that let her know he was kidding around.

“Just looking,” Kath shrugged.

Sam ran his hands up Kath’s sides and over her shoulders. “You nervous?”

“A little,” Kath said, breaking eye contact. “It’s just been a while.”

“Have you never…?”

“Not never, just not…everything.”

Sam’s demeanor changed completely. His hands dropped from Kath’s shoulders and he pulled away from her.

“Oh my God, we can’t, I can’t be your first time.” Sam stuttered over his words.

“Sam, I don’t care about that,” Kath said.

Sam started pacing again. “I mean, how have you never? Not once?”

“When would I have had the time to check this off my bucket list?” Kath asked. “I’ve been hunting for half of my life, sex isn’t really on the table.”

Sam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Kath, who was still naked on the bed.

“Then how the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” He asked with both hands on his hips. The question caught Kath completely off guard. She started to giggle, which then turned into full belly laughs. Sam let his guard down and laughed with her. When they had both settled down, Kath rose to her feet.

“We don’t have time to care about romances Sammy. The most I’ve ever hoped about my first time is that it’s with someone I trust.”

“You mean that?” Sam asked after heaving a sigh.

“Do you think I’d be standing buck-ass naked in front of you if I didn’t?”

That was an answer enough for Sam. Without another word, he bent down to pick Kath up by her thighs. She yelped as her feet left the ground and she was tossed haphazardly back onto the bed. Another laugh escaped her when she bounced.

Sam was quick to bring the moment back. He kissed her fiercely, framing her head with one hand and running the other along her bare thigh. With each stroke, he made sure to inch closer and closer to where he wanted to touch Kath the most. He could feel her growing impatient below him and relished in the power. Kath stopped kissing him and finally let out the whine she had been holding in.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked innocently. Kath only frowned in response. Sam gave her thigh a tight squeeze which caused Kath’s breath to hitch. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“Touch me, Sam.”

Sam needed no further instructions. He gingerly moved the hand on Kath’s thigh to the depths between her legs. He didn’t have to look to know how wet she’d become for him, but God did he want to. Sam quickly positioned the two of them so he was sitting against the headboard and Kath’s back was against his chest. She was almost sweating from the anticipation. She let out the sweetest sounds when Sam’s fingers finally found her. He started off with a gentle circular motion over Kath’s clit. The sensation was sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. Kath sighed and let her head fall back against Sam’s shoulder. Sam brushed the hair out of her face with his free hand. He continued to work Kath into a tizzy and eventually slipped a finger inside. Kath had experienced this before with other men, but those moments did not come close to this. She felt like she was a fire and Sam was the fan that kept her burning.

Sam coaxed another finger into Kath’s entrance. She moaned excessively as he curled his fingers inside her, brushing them against that sweet spot.

“You feel that angel?” Sam said into Kath’s ear.

“Mhm!” That was all Kath could get out.

“No one’s ever made you feel this good have they?” Sam grinned as Kath shook her head furiously. “And to think that I’m the one who gets to take you, you must be really desperate.”

Kath’s moans were getting higher and more frequent. Sam felt her core pulsing against his fingers. The tightness in his pants grew. Even in her state of bliss, Kath still had the ability to push her body against Sam’s for the sole purpose of getting him harder. The groan Sam let out was reward enough. In retaliation, Sam continued pumping his fingers in and out and watched Kath get closer to her edge. Just as she was about to fall over it, Sam removed his fingers from her. The loss of sensation left her feeling empty - and entirely unsatisfied.

“What the hell?” Kath whipped her head back to look at Sam.

“You really thought I wasn’t going to take my time with you?” Sam gloated. He brought the fingers that were just inside Kath up to her mouth, tapping on her lips gently.

“Open,” Sam commanded. Kath did as she was told and Sam filled her mouth. She took his fingers perfectly. “Atta girl, you see how good you taste? I want a piece of that.”

Kath’s eyes widened at the thought of Sam being…down there. That was further than she’d ever gone before.

Sam manhandled Kath into his lap and she straddled him easily. She bent down to kiss him and Sam could taste her on his lips. The desire to have her almost made him dizzy. He pulled away and cupped her face with both hands, looking at her with pleading eyes.

“Kath please,” he begged. “Please let me taste you.”

Kath blushed. “Well if you want to that badly,” she said.

“You have no idea.”

Before she knew it, they were right back where they had started, with Kath lying on the edge of the bed and Sam kneeling before her. The temptation to eat her out for hours was strong, but the urge to make Kath squirm was stronger. Sam began to place small kisses along Kath’s inner thighs while his fingers lazily danced through her folds. She was a whimpering mess. Kath’s hand found Sam’s hair and she started pulling desperately on it so that he would do something.

“You have no patience, you know that?”

“Sam, please!”

“Please what?”

“Touch me!”

“I thought I already am,” Sam smirked.

“I could touch you here.” He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit.

“Or maybe I could touch you here.” His finger traced the outline of her entrance. Kath was moaning loud enough to wake the entire motel.

“Or maybe…I could do this.”

Kath’s vision went white. Sam pushed two fingers back into her while pressing his mouth to her clit simultaneously. She cried out and her hands flew down to his hair. She was tugging on it as though she needed to for dear life. Sam groaned against her and the vibrations sent a shiver up her spine. Sam matched the pace of his fingers to that of his tongue and brought Kath closer and closer to her edge in waves.

“Oh my God!” Kath exclaimed. “I think-”

Her words were cut off by her moans. The final wave finally crashed over Kath and coursed throughout her entire body. Pleasure from her core extended all the way to her fingertips. She was writhing like crazy and Sam had to use his free arm to pin her down. Only once Kath started to come down did Sam take his mouth away from her.

Kath was panting heavily. Sam used his discarded shirt to wipe Kath off his mouth, although he knew he’d be savouring the taste forever. He gave her a moment to come back to reality and discarded his pants onto the floor. He joined her back on the bed in just his boxers. Sam lay propped on his elbow beside Kath, absently drawing circles across her arm. Kath eventually came to and noticed the state Sam was in.

“Where did your pants go?” She asked in a very serious tone.

Sam laughed at her confusion. “We don’t have to keep going,” he said genuinely.

“Please don’t stop.”

Sam’s eyes darkened and he leaned down to capture Kath in a kiss. They became a tangle of limbs and tongues and teeth. Sam pressed his hips against Kath’s and she could feel his hardness against her core. The desire that filled Kath’s head was almost unbearable. She began to push her hips upwards against Sam’s. He shuddered above her and buried his head into the crook of her neck. He trailed kisses down it and then he sank his teeth into her shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make Kath’s head swim.

“I need you,” Sam breathed into her neck.

“Then take me, idiot,” Kath said back.

Sam pushed off of her to remove his boxers, his cock springing upwards as he did. Sam got off the bed quietly to dig through his duffle bag. He pulled out a condom and slipped it on effortlessly. Kath shamelessly checked his ass out while he had his back to her.

He was above average for sure. Kath couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped and she stared at him. Sam chuckled at her and gripped her chin. He moved her head from side to side as if he was deciding on something.

“Hmmm, no,” he murmured. “We’ll put that pretty mouth of yours to use another time. Tonight I’m going to take you until you’re screaming.”

Kath had no idea how to respond to that so she didn’t. She simply laid back down on the mattress and watched Sam tower over her once more. He kissed her once, then tapped her thigh.

“Open.”

Kath gulped, then slowly began to spread her legs apart. Sam sunk in between them. The tip of him was pressed against her entrance and Kath’s heart began to race again. Sam held himself up with one hand and used the other to line himself up with Kath. He kissed her again, this time tenderly.

“Are you ready?” Kath nodded. “You tell me to stop and I will.”

Kath nodded again and closed her eyes. She opened them again to the feeling of Sam’s thumb tilting her head up.

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “I want you to watch.” And with that, he pushed himself into Kath. Her jaw went slack and a gasp slipped past her lips. Sam let out the most beautiful moan Kath had ever heard. The feeling of Sam stretching her out took some getting used to, but Sam gave Kath ample time to adjust. He waited for her signal to start moving. Kath took a few deep breaths and then nodded.

Sam started off with slow, gentle thrusts. This was Kath’s first time, of course, he wanted her to remember it. But with each movement, Sam’s ability to control himself slipped away. He kissed her feverishly and trailed his free hand down her arm to grip her wrist. He pulled her hand above her head, pinning it there with his own. The gesture made Kath euphoric. She could tell he was beginning to lose his grip. Now it was he who was holding onto her for dear life.

Kath was nothing if not a nuisance. She knew that if she reached her free hand up into Sam’s hair he’d snap. She knew that if she tugged on the loose curls that hung by the nape of his neck she might need help walking tomorrow. So naturally, she did it anyway. Sam groaned desperately into her shoulder and the grip on her hand tightened.

“Kath,” Sam warned.

“Just let go,” Kath assured him.

“I can’t.,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “I won’t break.”

Sam tried to hold on for her sake, but eventually his mind cleared. His thrusts became harder and faster as he took her with a force she didn’t know he was capable of. Still, she trusted that he couldn’t hurt her. They moved in sync together, like a choreographed dance. Kath felt the fire begin to grow inside of her. Sam was hitting the right spot over and over and over. When she couldn’t hold on any longer Sam leaned down and placed a kiss below her ear.

“Come for me, angel.”

Kath’s body shook underneath Sam as she fell over the edge once more. Pleasure crashed through her and she was close to tears. Sam’s pace didn’t slow, but the strength of his thrusts did. The hand that was once holding her own gently cupped Kath’s cheek. She opened her eyes and found Sam looking into them. His hair fell around his face, framing it perfectly. His skin was flush and he held an expression that Kath couldn’t place. Time around them slowed with what Sam said next.

“You are so beautiful.” Sam came inside her soon after.

Kath’s heart seized. The euphoric feeling that flooded her brain moments ago was gone. She was not expecting that from Sam. She was used to his snarky remarks, even the names he called her were usually laced with sarcasm. What he said was genuine. It was vulnerable. It was not what she had signed up for.

Sam pulled out and flopped onto his back next to her. They were both panting, sweaty messes.

Sam let out a breathy chuckle. “That was something.”

Kath stayed silent. Sam took it as post-sex brain fog. He got up and headed to the bathroom to clean up, leaving Kath alone with her thoughts. When Sam returned, she quickly stumbled into the bathroom without so much as a look in his direction.

Kath looked at herself in the mirror. Her bare chest was decorated with purple marks. Her skin was flustered and beats of sweat trickled down her neck.

What the hell did they just do?

Kath splashed water from the sink on her face and finished cleaning up. When she left the bathroom the first thing she did was find her discarded clothes. She folded them carefully and put them on one of the motel chairs. Kath pulled her pajamas from her own duffel and pulled them on. Despite the pit in her stomach, she still made a show of bending over to pull the flannel pajama pants on. She could feel Sam’s smirk burning into her back.

Sam was sitting against the headboard of the bed he and Kath had just christened. That was some of the best sex he’d had in, well in a very long time. He studied Kath carefully as she pulled her pajama bottoms on, making sure to check out the ass she put on display. He flipped the blanket over so she could get into bed next to him. To Sam’s surprise though, Kath made a bee-line for the other bed.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. It seemed to be the question of the night.

“Going to bed,” Kath responded curtly.

“Come here then.” Sam patted the spot next to him.

Kath looked at Sam’s hand, then at him, then at his hand again. She shook her head.

“No, I’m not sleeping with you,” she said.

“You just did,” Sam responded with a smile.

Kath’s expression did not change. “No. We’re not, I’m not…This isn’t going to be a thing. It was just a moment.”

Sam’s demeanor stiffened. “Oh. Okay.”

Kath got into her bed and turned away from Sam. At some point during this night Kath had stopped being Kath and started being Sam’s. She hated the feeling that was growing inside her chest. It was just a moment. It had to be just a moment.

#sam wincehster smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester fanfiction #fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester x read #dean wichester x oc #sam winchester fanfic

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shallowrambles · 1 year

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It's fascinating to me how much I've changed my mind about Dean in The Trap. I'm waaaaay more sympathetic to the whole Cas-being-forgiven aspect of it, because yes, Cas apologized initially, but the root of the issue was Cas's painful withdrawal of his partnership and his withholding of critical information. Full stop. He and Dean are NOT equally culpable in this one.

It's not just about Mary and Jack, and yet Cas keeps pivoting to "Dean blaming him for Mary." Which oversimplifies the whole thing in a terrible way. Yes, they're all culpable, and yes they all saw that things were wrong with Jack, but next to Donatello, Cas is THE authority on souls and physically the strongest of TFW. To make matters worse, he all but demanded Dean to parent Jack and take care of Jack's emotions, even though Dean expressed discomfort over his memories of soulless Sam. Dean has repeatedly expressed how he wants Cas to be open and honest with him, especially now that they're co-parenting, and although Cas demanded Dean parent Jack, he then turned around and hid Big Parenting Stuff from him and went off to meet Anael.

Barring Cas's one feeble and poorly-timed, "I tried to fix it on my own because I was afraid of losing this family," he doesn't really spell out his part in the communication failures or apologize very well for withdrawing from Dean, specifically. He sorts of sulls up and say, "I already apologized and I'm not doing it again." Yet, Cas has a continued, longstanding pattern of withdrawal from the partnership. I'm floored that my Cas goggles kept me from seeing it before, and maybe I'm a little embarrassed, too. I mean, honestly, it's amazing that Dean takes him back at all. :/ Once you look past, "Oh no! Dean said mean things!" anyway.

I think by The Trap, Dean has given up trying to get Cas to change or hold him accountable for his lack of communication. Cas sort of gave Dean ultimatums over it, if you squint, and Dean rolled over. And Dean wants to get back together. He needs Cas's support and Cas need his. He looks at everything Cas is and decides that Cas's avoidance and want to protect the family is just woven into the fabric of him, and Dean decides to accept that. It's something he loves about him as much as he resents it. Cas's chivalry is a feature and a bug. Dean loves him for it. It makes his life a Hell sometimes.

Occasionally, I still see people harping on how horrible Dean was for "forgiving" Cas, like Cas doesn't need to be forgiven. And with some distance and clarity, I find that pretty baffling now, but I also remember feeling that way when I wasn't looking at their partnership equally and giving Cas too much leeway on his continued absence from the partnership. I almost...respected Cas more. That thought makes me wince. But his bad decisions I was way more likely to stamp as protective or tactically genius, at least compared to some of Dean's similar decisions. Dean's things I tended to group as "too angry/emotional/irrational." :(

I guess I've come a long way when it comes to holding Sam and Cas accountable for their actions, too. Much of the time, my issues with Dean devolved to unfortunate tone policing or not liking him to express his anger and be angry at his boundaries being breached over and over, even when he was taking his anger out on inanimate objects. I balked just because it made a loud sound that made Sam wince (oh noes, not the wincing).

///

On the other hand, I'm quite impressed that Dean and Cas were finding their way back to each other after the Death of a Child. That's about the hardest thing a marriage can go through, and they were getting back together and trying to heal even before Jack reappeared. Clearly, it's a stress-tested relationship. WAY more stress-tested than your everyday marriages; they've been through multiple apocalypses. On the whole, they often have good communication, even when they disagree, they knew where they stood (like with Donatello). It's just these huge, incredibly unusual horrible earth-shatteringly terrible things that throw them. Chuck's grooming is such a bitch.

#cas + communication issues #spn #spn 15x09 #spn the trap #spn episodes #spn season 15 #dean stuff #cas stuff #dean/cas + trial separation

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planetlibby · 2 months

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dean winchester x sibling user

first post <3

You and the boys had been tucked away for the night at the usual small town motel, some old lady sat behind the reception chain smoking while reading the paper, the wall’s wallpaper peeling and most of all the place stunk of rat piss. What a magical place!

It was nearing midnight as you tossed and turned once again, the place had two twin beds and money was tight (when wasnt it) so you were stuck on the couch while the boys got the two twin beds. You always got the short straw. Painfully, you sat up on the couch, rubbing your neck at the pain that was already beginning to form from just an hour of laying on the couch.

Grabbing your jacket and your cigs you headed outside, trying your best to open and shut the door as quietly as you could. Planting your ass on the edge of the curb as you lit up the cigarette, taking a deep drag of it before inhaling then exhaling. The smoke surrounding you and the sky, truly was beautiful how it intertwined with each other before difussing into the air.

You thought you had been quite before you hear the door click open behind you. Fuck. You kept your head forward taking another drag before dean sat down next to you. He didnt say a whole lot except take the cigarette from your fingers taking a drag of it himself. He had never classed himself as a smoker like you had but more of ‘if i need it, i need it’ so not often.

‘Yer gonna catch a cold sitting out here,’ His voice is low and raspy from the sleep or the coldness taking over. Dean placed the cigarette back between your fingers, he wasnt wrong; the seasons had began changing once more, moving from autumn into winter.

‘Since when did you care?’ You asked a tad bit defensively, recently your words always had that edge to them.

‘Since you stopped taking care of yourself,’

Oh. Of course you had been maybe taking a little less care of yourself but everything had been getting too hetic. Dad was so close to your grasps but the search for him still remained, and maybe you smoked nearly a full pack of cigs in a few days but that was normal? right? loads of people smoked like that. your thoughts laced with trying to defend yourself but you knew it, deep down they were excuses.

‘’m sorry,’ You mumbled to Dean, he had always had to play a father figure to you, as much as dad was dad, dean was dad to in his own way, he had always made sure you and Sammy were fed and safe.

‘Just dont want you getting too rough,’ That was probably some of the more sweet stuff dean had said to you. He was protective and caring but he didnt show in the lovey dovey way. Thats how dad had raised him to be the macho man solider; because thats what dad did, he raised soliders not children.

‘I know,’ You murmured, you knew he had your best intentions at heart.

‘Go get some sleep, ill sleep on the sofa,’ There was no point in disagreeing with dean because he was sure as hell stubborn like that.

‘thanks,’ you flashed him a small thin lip smile before heading inside.

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hunterevie · 1 month

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Story - Cas’s new wardrobe

Pairing - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating - Teen

Word count - 2230

Summary - Dean decides Cas needs some new clothes now he’s spending more time on Earth. Not trusting the Angel to go and pick out some flattering new outfits for himself, he decides to take the angel clothes shopping.

Since they got him back from the empty, Cas had still worn that same stupid get up. The suit, the tie that sometimes is tight but other times just hangs loosely around his neck, and that dorky tan trench coat. In the past it didn’t bother Dean, he was so used to the angels clothes he barely gave them a second glance. But now whenever he looked at Cas he could just see that confession of love; the tears in his eyes before he sacrificed himself and was taken by that black goo.

That was why Dean needed to get him a new wardrobe.

He found his husband in their little cave. A pile of fiction books around him on the floor. Everything from crime, horror, romance and drama. Ever since they had given up their hunting days, Cas would just sit and consume as many books as possible. In the last month he believed he had managed to read through at least 100 novels. Being an angel meant he was able to consume the words on the page more quickly.

Or at least that was what he claimed. Dean didn’t know either way.

“Cas come on, we’re going clothes shopping.” Dean informed him, pulling him away from the current book he was reading. A Clash of Kings, the second of the Game of Thrones books. One that Dean had been meaning to read but Branns story just bored the hell out of him and every-time he tried he found his focus waning. Cas looked up from the pages, raising an eyebrow at his husband whilst replacing the bookmark in the pages.

“Clothes shopping. Why?” The fact he even needed to ask that question was a good indication they this trip was long overdue.

“You mean aside from the fact you have been wearing the same clothes since I first met you in that barn?” Cas looked down at them, opening his trench coat and examining the suit.

“No I haven’t.”

“Oh I’m sorry. My mistake. The trench coat is different.” Dean responded, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Disbelieving that his husband was even disagreeing on this one minor point. “Come on Cas, wouldn’t it feel nice to have a whole new wardrobe?”

“It would. Maybe I do need some more clothes.” He said, thinking to himself before looking back to his husband. “But you don’t need to come with me. I can do this on my own.” Oh no, that was not going to happen. He did not want to see what kind of weird and bizarre things Cas would come back with if he was let loose in a clothing store alone.

“Er…no that’s okay. I don’t mind coming with. It could be a fun couples activity.” The little tilted head and eye squint was enough to show Dean that Cas didn’t believe him.

“You don’t trust me to buy my own clothes.”

“It’s not…okay yes it’s that. Come on Cas you don’t have a great record in dressing yourself. I mean look at when we found you at Aprils? The colours were all off and just didn’t look right together.”

“Dean, I was homeless and my suit had blood on it. I didn’t exactly have many options in the clothing department.” Oh that was a bad example. Dean felt bad about that one, he completely forgot the April incident happened when Cas was at his most vulnerable.

“Well…how about when I found you married to that woman…” Dean started, wanting to move on as quickly as possible.

“Daphne.”

“Yeah Daphne.” He did his best to stop the malice coming out in his voice when he said her name. What kind of woman finds a guy with amnesia and marries him without finding out who he really was? An oddball. He was just grateful they didn’t consummate that marriage. He could barely contain his possessiveness as it was. “You were dressed like some bible bashing house husband.”

“I had little say in what I wore then. Daphne was very specific on how she expected her husband to dress.” Oof, two and zero for Dean there. Neither was a very good example. Not knowing how to respond to that revelation about Daphne he just got back to the matter at hand.

“Okay well, I’m going to take you shopping anyway. So come on, I’ll meet you in baby in 5.”

———

Cas grumbled about the need for having a chaperone to buy new clothes all the way to the store. By the half way mark Dean was starting to become annoyed, knowing his husband wouldn’t let it drop he made a deal. Cas could pick out some clothes he would like to try on, and Dean would pick out some he thought his husband would look good in. It seemed to appease Cas somewhat and he was a little happier for the remainder of the journey.

When they arrived they both did their own things. Cas choosing the, likely dorky, clothes that he was used to wearing and Dean going for things a little more comfortable. Day to day clothes rather than suits and shirts. By the time he had finished, Cas was already in the changing room trying things on. He took up residence on the sofa outside, sending a message to say he was there for Cas to show what he had picked out. He scrolled through the latest news as he waited for his husband to pop out in his first outfit.

He was not surprised when he did.

“Cas…that’s basically what you already wear.” Dean said when Cas walked out dressed in a black suit with white shirt on. The only difference was the red tie he wore and the fact it was slightly more fitted. Whilst he did look good in it, and Dean was more than happy for him to buy it, it did defeat the purpose of a new wardrobe as he was keen to get him away from these kind of clothes.

“I know but I feel comfortable in it. And it’s very good quality.”

“I get that. We will get it. Your suit could probably use an upgrade anyway. Let’s see what else you picked out angel.” Cas skittered back into the changing room, emerging only a couple of seconds later with a new outfit. Dean could only chuckle, it was obvious he was using his grace to get unchanged and changed quickly. Clearly deciding that changing like a normal person was too onerous.

“A cardigan Cas really? You look about 80.” It was brown and just not a very nice colour. One that you probably would find on your grandad in.

“Well I am older than time itself Dean.” Smartass!

“But you’re in the body of a man in his 40s so no. Not that.” With that he floated back into the room. Again emerging less than a couple of seconds later. Dean really hoped nobody was seeing this on CCTV. That would result in some uncomfortable questions about how his husband was so quick to change.

“What are you a bee surgeon?” The heated glare from his husband didn’t stop him from being happy that he came up with that line. Chuckling to himself as Cas just continued to show his displeasure. It was a bright yellow shirt, which would have been bad enough, but for some reason there were large black blobs on it. It was one of those shirts he would probably buy Cas as a joke, but wouldn’t expect him to wear. The fact he picked it out for himself was a concern to Dean. “I think a no for that sweetheart.”

And it continued like that. Cas modelling what he had found and Dean providing harsh critiques on each outfit. Out of the 20 or so, Dean liked only 3 and they were put in the to buy pile. The rest were hung back up ready to be put back in the racks. One thing that Dean noticed was his husband didn’t look for trousers outside of black slacks. No jeans, nothing comfortable for the bunker, just those uncomfortable suit trousers that he was so used to wearing.

This was exactly why he didn’t want to leave him to do this alone.

“Okay. Now my stuff.” He picked up the pile of clothes next to him and handed them to his husband who eyed him sceptically.

“There’s no flannel in here is there?”

“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t pull off flannel.” A small chuckle came from Deans throat before he moved forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Cas’s lips, aware he hadn’t kissed him since early this morning and missing that connection to his husband. “Come on scoot. Try on the clothes.”

When Cas shuffled back into the room, Dean could feel the anticipation coursing through his veins. Excited at the prospect of his husband wearing some of the nice t-shirts he picked out for him. Knowing that he would look good in all of them.

When he came out in the first outfit, he wasn’t disappointed.

It was a nice dark red polo shirt. The arms stretched nicely across Cas’s thick arm muscles, almost straining to keep them in as he crossed his arms ahead of him. With it he picked out the nice navy jeans that Dean had found. They rested nicely on his hips and pulled tight against his thick thighs and bulge, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

“Wow Cas, you look…so so amazing.” Dean breathed out, standing again and making his way to his husband. Sliding a hand up his bicep and squeezing a little. Oh yeah he was a good judge of clothes. Unable to stop himself, he crowded his husband back against the wall. Pressing his body close as he took his lips for another kiss, this time harsher than the last. Small shivers went down Cas’s spine as he felt hands rubbing up and down hips, a tiny whimper left his lips as his husband deepened the kiss. Massaging their lips together and pulling stuttering little breaths with every movement. It took Cas all of his strength to not just whisk them back home.

When they broke apart they stayed connected, foreheads touching as Dean played with the collar on the polo shirt. The world had condensed to just them, they were in their own little bubble and as far as they were concerned nobody else existed at this moment.

“You’re gorgeous sweetheart.” Dean verbalised again.

“I guess this is on the yes pile then?” Cas asked with a smirk on his lips, bringing a small snort of laughter from his husband.

“Go try on the rest of your clothes angel so we can get home.” Dean responded, patting him lightly on the hip before kissing him chastely one more time. They uncoupled, Dean going back to his seat and Cas back to try on the rest of the clothes.

If Dean thought Cas looked good in the t-shirt he hadn’t seen anything yet. When he emerged he was in the black leather jacket that Dean thought was cool, but didn’t expect Cas to be able to pull off. But oh, he pulled it off. The leather jacket was accompanied by a black low v necked t-shirt, showing his elegant neck off; as well as that some lovely black jeans also.

This was such a great idea by Dean. He knew his husband was sexy without clothes but he could never imagine how gorgeous he would look with clothes on.

“Yes?” Cas asked, Dean couldn’t talk anymore. He shifted his legs, trying to get more comfortable and nodded his head. Aware that his mouth was slightly agape. Cas just nodded and pushed back into the changing room, leaving his husband to stare at the door in shock. Wondering how he managed to nab such a hottie.

By the end Cas had decided he liked everything Dean had picked. When they went to pay the overall cost came to just under $1000. More than Dean expected but as they would be paying with a credit card they wouldn’t ever pay off, Dean didn’t mind.

After loading everything into the car, Cas grabbed his husband. Pushing him against baby and kissing him hard on the lips. Using tongue to gain access and lick into Deans mouth before pulling away. One hand running up his back and playing with the soft hairs at the back of his neck.

“Thank you for this Dean. I love my new wardrobe.” Cas whispered, leaning forward and kissing him again.

“I’m glad angel. You look so good in it all.” And he did. He was getting hot under the collar seeing how amazing Cas looked in all those wonderful new clothes. Smirking, Cas leaned forward. Lips ghosting against Deans ear, causing his husband to shudder at the hot breaths.

“Maybe next time, we could come update your wardrobe. Make you look less like a lumberjack.” When he pulled away he was laughing, upon seeing Deans offended face the laughs became harder. Shaking his head he walked over to the other side of the car, popping open the door and sliding into the seat. Giggling hard to himself with every movement.

Dean couldn’t wait to get him home and get him back for that one in the bedroom.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #writing #writing community #humor #humour #ao3 stories #deancas #shopping #dean and cas being cute

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talesmaniac89 · 2 years

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Halloween Surprise

Pairing : (Former) Dean x reader

Summary: You're out trick or treating with your son when you run into someone from your past. Someone with the same green eyes as your son.

Warnings: Feelings of betrayal, secrets, breakup and heartbreak.

Word Count: 5081

Y/N = Your Name | Y/L/N = Your Last Name

“Lucas! Are you ready to go?” You called up the stairs as you frowned down at your wristwatch. It was already getting a bit late, and you didn’t want to be out when it was dark outside. You’d long since learned what was lurking in the darkness, but ever since you had your son you’d grown even more wary of the lengthening shadows that came with twilight.

Yet, though you were on a pretty tight trick or treating schedule, the little rascal upstairs remained nearly suspiciously quiet as you tapped the boot of your Wonder Woman costume impatiently.

“Lucas (Y/L/N)!” You called up again, channeling every ounce of strict motherly love you could into your voice as you debated going up to check what the cheeky little five year old was up to. The beginning of fear and panic rearing its ugly head as your carefully developed hunter’s instincts always went to the worst possible outcome. Yet, the little giggle that easily reached you from the top of the stairs quickly calmed your frayed nerves and reminded you that you were no longer a hunter. You’d left that life behind you nearly six years ago. The moment you realized you were pregnant.

“No Lucas up here mommy!” Your son’s cheeky little voice called back, the poorly concealed giggles drawing a smile out of you as you rolled your eyes at the little guy. His love for the dramatic was clearly something he’d gotten from his father. Though the man in question would probably disagree and say it was a trait your son had gotten from you. Swallowing down the bittersweet feeling that always followed any thought of the man you’d loved and lost, you took a deep breath before calling back up to your little man.

“Really? Oh, that’s too bad, but… Does Batman wanna come trick or treating with mommy then?” You called back with a small smile. One that only grew from the happy squeal leaving your little vigilante as he bounced into view. Before carefully taking the stairs the moment you reminded him not to run down the carpeted staircase.

“Yes! Batman wants candy!” His young voice was still high pitched and innocent. But Lucas still tried to mimic the deep, whispered voice of Batman as he hurried down the stairs. His Batman mask was slightly crooked on his freckled nose as he came to a full stop in front of you with green eyes looking up at you in anticipation.

“Alright then Batman. It’s just you and me today then. We’ll have to bring some candy back for Lucas too,” You said with a soft laugh as you kneeled down to fix his crooked mask and smooth his slightly tousled nest of hair.

“It’s me mommy!” Your little guy whispered as he lifted the mask, showing you his best conspiratory look as he gently placed the mask back on, just as crooked as it had been before you initially fixed it.

“It’s a secret, hussssh” He continued as he let you fix his mask for him once more.

“Mommy won’t tell anyone. Promise. Now, are you ready to go trick or treating pumpkin? Remember, we have to be back before it gets dark,” You asked your little superhero as you reached out for his Batman windbreaker and helped him put it on.

“Yes! Trick or Treat!” He called out loudly and cheerfully, just like you’d practiced. Giving him a warm smile, you grabbed his little bucket in one hand, before reaching out to put his small hand in your free one. Ready to go door to door in search of treats, and hopefully no tricks.

---

Halloween had never been your favorite time of year. Which was understandable, given how you’d grown up. But Lucas had given you a newfound appreciation for the day. And though you were still slightly on edge as you scanned the busy crowds out in your little, safe, cul de sac, you were much more at ease than you’d been when you first left the hunting life behind you.

Which was probably how you missed the two men mingling with the crowds dressed in suits, stopping parents to show off fake FBI badges as you focused on getting your son from one house to the next. Along with a few of the other neighborhood moms.

Hell, you even missed the clearly lustful looks thrown their way by Sharon, your neighbor three houses down from yours. Even though she was barely watching her own little monsters as they tried to steal an extra chocolate bar from the bowl, choosing instead to oogle the two agents as they quietly questioned parents a bit further down the road, making their way up towards you.

Honestly, even if you had noticed him before Tara had leaned over to you to whisper some not so child friendly words into your ear, you weren’t sure what you would’ve done. Would you have ran away? Maybe… Frozen in place? Probably.

Considering that was exactly what you ended up doing. Your hand squeezed Lucas’ a little as you gently pulled your little superhero behind you and let your eyes follow Tara’s down the street, just a little past the next house your route would take you to. Where a face you thought you’d never see again was looking back at you, green eyes wide and FBI badge lowered from where he’d just raised it to interrogate yet another thirsty soccer mom.

“Dean,” The name that once had tasted sweeter than pie on your lips came out as a broken whisper as you tried, and failed, to tear your eyes off of the devastatingly handsome man.

“Wait, you know him? When did you meet an FBI agent (Y/N)? And can you introduce me to his partner?” Tara asked, a little too loudly for your liking, next to you as her excited eyes went from you and over to Dean before coming right back to you again.

“I… Yeah, I know him. Look, Tara. Could you take Lucas to the next house? I should… Say hi?” You managed to push the words out as you fought against the nearly nostalgic cotton mouthed feeling Dean Winchester always left you with. Though you were still not sure you had what it took to speak to him after… What had happened. You really had no choice. Not only because he’d spotted you. But because he was there. On your street.

And when a Winchester came to your street, it was usually not just for a friendly visit.

But still, you couldn’t bring Lucas with you. Not when the bright green eyes and dusting of freckles over a button nose easily betrayed whose son he was. A son Dean had no clue you’d been raising for the last five years ever since he pushed you away.

“Only if you get me the number of that tall drink of water over there,” She shot back, already undressing Sam with her best bedroom eyes as you rolled your eyes at her.

“Tara, you’re married. Happily at that,” You reminded your best ‘mom friend’ as she grinned back at you.

“A girl can dream (Y/N),” She laughed, before shooting you a small cheeky wink, and dropping down to speak to Lucas instead.

“Lucas…” She started, before your little guy shook his head quickly, still hidden from Dean’s view behind you.

“Batman,” Lucas corrected as he clutched his bucket of sweets. As if he was afraid his aunty Tara was planning to steal his hard earned loot.

“Alright Batman. Do you wanna come with aunty and Robbie to the next house? Your mommy needs to go talk to someone,” Tara said as she reached out her free hand, patiently pretending she couldn’t feel her own one year younger kid pulling at her other hand for her to hurry. As if the little ninja turtle next to her thought the houses would run out of candy if they didn’t hurry.

“Can I mommy?” Lucas looked up at you through his little Batman mask. Puppy eyes fully engaged as he looked from his bucket of treats and back up at you, as if to stay he still didn’t have enough sugar to last him till next Halloween.

Even though he already had plenty.

“Go ahead, pumpkin. Mommy will be right there,” You nodded as you let go of his little hand and let Tara grab it instead. Somewhat reluctantly, as your hunting instincts always worried when the apple pie of your eye was out of reach.

Giving your friend a grateful smile, you watched the three of them for a second as they walked up the path to the next house. Smiling slightly at Batman’s happy bounce up the footpath, before you turned back to look at Dean again.

Only to realize he was no longer there.

“(Y/N),” Just as you were about to scan the crowd for him, the sound of his voice to the left of you made you jump slightly as you cursed your rusty reflexes and pivoted to face him. Doing your absolute damndest to pretend his deep voice didn’t still send pleasurable shockwaves through your body.

“Dean,” You whispered back as you tried to find your voice under the breathless vertigo that always took over whenever Dean Winchester was anywhere nearby.

“Thank God. When we didn’t hear anything I thought you…” He said, relief evident in his voice, though you could also hear the early warning signs of worried anger brewing just under the surface. Though he had no right to be angry at you. Not since…

Not after what happened that night.

“I’m fine. I just… I quit the business,” You shot back, biting back the words you actually wanted to tack on to the end of your sentence… After you broke my heart. But by the way Dean’s shoulders fell, and the way his worried anger retreated behind a veil of sadness and regret in green eyes, you knew he’d still caught the silent addition to your sentence in your slightly narrowed eyes.

“Oh…” Was all he managed to push out as he dug his hands into his suit pockets. Fidgeting in front of you in the same way Lucas always did whenever you caught him doing something naughty.

Like father, like son.

“Yeah,” You sighed, keeping back the many words you wanted to say as you threw a wary glance over to where Tara and the boys had just reached the next house. Though Dean’s next words forced your eyes back on him.

“I missed you…” He started, before a quick shake of your head stopped him from continuing.

“Dean… It was your choice,” You shot back, a small grimace of pain following your words as you remembered that fateful night when Dean Winchester broke your heart. For your own good, he’d said. But it had been anything but.

You’d loved him, with every damn cell in your body. Hell, you still did. But according to him, six years ago, the two of you had been a liability. You were a weak spot he couldn’t protect. And that scared him. Enough to let you go. Even when you begged him not to.

“I know, and I’ve been regretting it ever since,” Dean broke through your trip down memory lane as he reached out to you in that achingly familiar way he’s done so many times before, to brush some stray hairs out of your eyes. Yet, before those slightly calloused fingers could reach you and burn against your skin, you sidestepped him and crossed your arms. Hugging yourself close as you suddenly felt very underdressed in your Wonder Woman costume.

“It’s too late for regrets,” You whispered, unable and unwilling to meet his eyes as you instead looked around at the crowds or trick or treaters. More specifically their parents, your neighbors. Many of whom were looking your way. Or more like Dean’s way. Since his FBI outfit stood out among the costumes.

“I…” Dean started, but you simply shook your head before cutting off whatever he was trying to say.

“Why are you here? Is there a… Anything I should be wary of?” You hesitated over your words. Keeping them vague enough to not arouse the suspicion or attention of one of your nosier neighbors as you felt your muscles tense. Still strong and lithe enough, even six years after your retirement. As you refused to rest on your laurels and kept up your training. Just in case your past caught up to you. If only to protect Lucas.

“No,” Dean said as you eyed him warily. Not buying the single syllable answer.

“I promise, there’s nothing here. We’re just looking for someone living nearby who can help us out on a… Case,” He explained, keeping his words equally vague as he let his eyes travel across the crowds that were all inexplicably slowing down when they got close to where the two of you were standing. Looking for the latest piece of juicy cul de sac gossip most likely.

“Alright, that’s good,” You said, a relieved sigh leaving you as your tense shoulders relaxed. Lucas was still safe. You both were. Which was all that mattered. It was all that could matter. Dean couldn’t. Not anymore.

“(Y/N)...” Dean tried. Though you knew what he wanted to say. And you couldn’t have that conversation. Not in the middle of the street with Mr. Brown, your neighborhood gossip, dressed as Frankenstein casting not-so-hidden curious glances in your direction.

“Look Dean. I’ve gotta go,” You rushed out, avoiding his pleading eyes as you busied yourself with fixing the already perfect whip of truth replica on your hip.

“But…” Dean kept pushing, his hand once more reaching out for you, as if to stop you from slipping through his fingers.

Yet, before he could continue, or you could think up any excuse, an excited little voice loudly called out to you from your right. A small little streak of black and yellow wobbling up towards you with one hand lifted high in victory.

“Mommy! Look! They gave me a big chocolate!”

As you refocused your attention towards your little superhero, you barely caught how Dean’s eyes opened wide as they went from you over to the little Batman hurrying up towards you as fast as his little feet could carry him. Cringing internally, you still pretended you didn’t notice the look he threw you as you instead kept your eyes on Lucas.

“Is he…” Dean started, but you missed the question as you wiped the heartbreak from your eyes and focused your attention back on your son. Dropping down to his level, you let him run into your arms waving the chocolate bar in his little hand.

“Wow! That’s great, pumpkin! Did you say thank you?” You said, adding a layer of fake cheer into your voice as you squeezed your little treasure closer.

“I did! And I said Trick or Treat too!” Lucas said as he wiggled slightly out of your arms without actually leaving the hug to look up at you with a proud beaming smile. Clearly wanting to show you how he was a big boy now.

“You did great! Such a big boy!” You praised as you ruffled the little nest of messy dark blonde hair on top of his head.

“Hey there Batman,” Next to you Dean had also crouched down to be at Lucas’ height as he shot him a small smile. Before looking over at you out of the corner of his eyes, making you freeze up as you held your son closer.

“Who are you?” Lucas asked, suddenly shy as he half hid behind you, still clutching the chocolate bar in his small hand.

“I’m a friend of your mother’s,” Dean said with a soft smile as he looked down at the full bucket of halloween treats. His eyes wide in admiration, though you could still see the hint of heartbreak and loss behind those green orbs as he clearly came to the wrong conclusion regarding your son. Imagining another man where there wasn’t one, and probably never would be. Yet he didn’t let it show to Lucas as he beamed at him. “Wow! You’ve gotten loads today, haven’t you?”

“Yeah! Mommy taught me how!” Lucas said proudly as he wiggled fully out of your arms now that he knew the man wasn’t one of the scary strangers you’d cautioned him of. Gingerly putting down his bucket, Lucas lifted his mask to properly take in his haul and show his new friend all his treats.

Without the mask, there was no denying whose son he was. And as recognition flashed in Dean’s eyes, you knew he hadn’t missed the similarities between your child and him as he looked back up at you. An endless amount of questions painting his green eyes a deeper shade as he looked between Lucas and you.

Wetting dry lips, you took a shaky breath as you gave Lucas a strained smile. Avoiding Dean’s eyes as you focused all your attention on your little superhero instead.

“Mommy still needs to talk to her friend. Why don’t you go with Aunty Tara to the next house, alright Batman?” You finally managed to push out as you gently fixed your son’s mask and tried to soften the edges of your smile as you gave him a little nod towards where Tara was waiting when he seemed to hesitate.

“Will you come soon too Mommy?” He asked, his young little voice seeming a little dejected as he looked from his candy haul and up at you.

“I will baby,” You softened as you placed a feather light kiss on his crown of messy hair.

“Promise?” The mini Batman asked as he set those big green puppy eyes in you. Eyes you could never resist. From neither of the two men to either side of you.

“Pinky promise,” You swore, crossing your heart before stretching out your pinky and linking it with your son’s.

Giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, Lucas finally seemed happy with your answer as he grabbed his little pumpkin shaped bucket again as hurried back over to Robbie and Tara while loudly telling them both that “mommy said she’s coming soon”.

For a second, Dean stayed silent next to you as you both got up from where you’d been crouched to speak to Lucas. The sounds of children’s laughter and hushed conversations between nosy neighbors filled the space between the two of you as you looked for a place to have the conversation you’d never thought you’d actually have to have. But as Dean grabbed your wrist, you were left stuck in place in the middle of the busy sidewalk.

“Is he…” Dean started, not letting you move away from the crowd before he asked the question that had been shining out behind green eyes since he put two and two together.

“Let’s go somewhere else…” You hesitated, throwing cautious glances at the crowds around you. Though most of them had seemingly grown bored of your conversation once they realized nothing juicy was being said.

“Is he my son (Y/N)?” Dean insisted, though he kept his voice low and his words barely a whisper. Keeping them between just the two of you.

“... Dean,” You sighed, still not meeting his eyes as you looked around you. Making sure no one had heard his question. But Dean didn’t let you shift the topic as he shook his head and kept his hand circled securely around your wrist.

“(Y/N), please,” He nearly begged, squeezing your wrist softly to make you look up at him. The fractured light hitting green eyes nearly took your breath away as you saw the desperate need to know shining back at you.

“Yes. He…” Swallowing heavily you took a shaky breath, before once more looking down the street to find your little Batman in the crowds together with Tara.

“Lucas is your son,” You finally continued as you found him. Happily talking Tara’s ear off like the little ladies’ man he was.

“Lucas,” Dean said carefully. Rolling the name around on his tongue as he followed your gaze down to look, awestruck, at his son.

“Yeah, he’s just turned five not long ago,” You added with a soft smile. Remembering the late September birthday party. Which, no surprise, had been fully Batman themed. Just like everything had been lately.

“Five… Not long ago?” Dean questioned. Brows furrowed as he did the mental math. Counting backwards to the cold January night when he broke your heart.

“I found out I was pregnant shortly after you told me to leave,” Your words came out a bit more bitter than you meant for them to be. The sour taste of heartbreak still made it hard to sweeten the words.

“I never told you to leave,” Dean shot in, arguing semantics as his hand tightened slightly around the wrist he was still holding onto. Tugging your hand gently towards you, you shook your head at him when he still refused to let go. Biting back a bitter laugh and unwanted tears as you took a shaky breath.

“You told me we’d never work out. Did you really think I’d stick around after that?” You whispered, still managing to keep your voice low, though your emotions were causing havoc within your chest. Making it hard to even hear your own barely even there words.

��I just wanted you to be safe! You kept…” Dean’s voice was loud enough to draw a few more curious glances as you shot him a wide eyed, panicked look before shaking your head imperceptibly. Wordlessly reminding him to be quiet. Taking a deep breath, Dean shot your nosy neighbors a shaky smile before leaning in closer and lowering his voice.

“Look, I know I fucked up. But, even if I did, how could you not tell me I had a son?” His whispered voice muted the incredulity and slight sadness at the betrayal in his tone, but it was still painfully clear to you as you grimaced. You knew you should’ve told him. But your wounds had just been so damn fresh. So instead you’d relied on excuses. The same you leaned on as you finally looked back up to meet his green eyes.

“I tried… Your number was disconnected. The only number I had for you. And… Hell, I just didn’t want to hurt anymore,” You sighed. Some of the truth slipping out together with your practiced excuse from nearly six years ago.

“It was? Shit… Damn it. I lost a phone during a hunt. And I would’ve done anything to have you back (Y/N). There’s no way I would’ve hurt you. Not when every day without you was hell. Still, you could’ve called Sammy. Or just driven up to the bunker. Or…” Dean was ranting as his hand finally slipped from your wrist to card through his hair in frustration. Though, from the way his eyes fell to the forgotten badge in his own hand, you knew he was mainly blaming himself as he cut off his words with a tired sigh.

“Maybe I could have, but I just… Fuck. I just couldn’t. You hurt me and..” Cutting yourself off with a shake of your head you wrapped your arms back around yourself as if to protect your barely patched up heart and wet dry lips. Before squeezing your eyes shut, in a foolish effort to shut the world out.

For a few seconds, you let the silence settle between you as you tried to find the words. Knowing Dean was doing the same in front of you. Though you couldn’t see him as you kept your eyes closed and let the bright dots floating in your cut off vision hypnotize you believing none of it had happened. That you were still just next to your son. Not being confronted with the ghosts of your own messy past.

“Look Dean… I can’t do this. Not tonight. Not while I’m dressed as fucking Wonder Woman,” You finally said with a tired shrug of your shoulders as you finally opened your eyes and met Dean’s head on. You knew you couldn’t hide from your past anymore. Not when it had come nearly all the way to your front porch. But Lucas was waiting for you, and you needed privacy for the long overdue conversation with Dean. Something that was in short supply on the small cul de sac.

“You look good in that…” Dean cut in, a small hint of his boyish grin and that trademark charm as he took you in, as if for the first time while you rolled your eyes at him. Though his attempt at lightening the mood still fell flat when weighed up against the heavy weight in your stomach from the many broken pieces of your heart that had dislodged from seeing him again.

“I know I do. But that’s not the point. I can’t. Not now,” You still let a small smile slip before you shook it, and the nostalgic emotions it was painted in, away and replaced them with tired resignation. As your own small smile that had temporarily brightened Dean’s fell away, so did his. Though his green eyes had softened slightly as he seemed to resign himself to not having all his questions answered by interrogating you on the sidewalk of your own street.

“Just tell me one thing. Are you happy? Is Lucas happy?” Dean’s quiet voice asked after a beat or two of silence. His eyes slightly shrouded by enviably thick lashes as he kept them downcast and focused on the polished shoes of his FBI outfit. His words made you look towards the houses again, easily spotting your little man a few homes down as you smiled and waved in his direction where he was busy waving your way.

“We are and he is. We have a good life here. A safe home. He’s the smartest little boy ever. Just like his dad,” You finally said as you let your hand drop. Glancing Dean’s way, you caught him looking towards Lucas as well. His eyes watching the small boy wistfully as he once more stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Wetting his lips, Dean seemed to hesitate for a second as he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly before finally tearing his eyes off of the son he hadn’t known he had to look at you instead.

“Can I… Is it alright if I see him again? See you again?”

For a second, you hesitated. Your heart was stuck in your throat as you mulled over your answer. Thinking up and throwing away a million what ifs and reasons not to. But in the end, your heart won the battle. You could never forget Dean Winchester. And, no matter how he felt about you, and you about him, Lucas was his son. He deserved the chance to get to know the coolest kid you knew.

“... Bring Sam over after 7 pm tonight. Bring candy. And change out of those stuffy suits. We’ll… Talk over dinner,” You finally sighed, losing the battle with your heart as you hesitated over every word, even as you’d made up your mind to invite him over and already started planning the night’s dinner in your head now that you’d have two more mouths to feed.

“Yeah? Alright, yeah… Ok. Seven. I’ll be there,” Dean was already walking backwards away from you, looking slightly hopeful and clearly itching to fill his little brother in to let Sam know he was an uncle. That bright boyish spark that you’d fallen in love with many years ago back in green eyes as he smiled cautiously at you. A slightly crooked smile that slowly grew warmer as your words sank in.

Throwing you a little wave, he turned around, ready to hurry back to his brother and call off the search so he could go raid some stores for candy and change. Yet, before he could take another step, your exasperated laughter made him stop as you rolled your eyes at his broad back.

“Dean!” You called out after him, a raised eyebrow paired with a small knowing smirk as you watched him turn around to look at you. HIs green eyes wide and looking more than a little frazzled as you melted at the sight of the gorgeous man you’d fallen in love with many years ago. The man you never stopped loving. Even if he broke your heart.

“You need to know where I live first,” You called out to him. No longer caring about nosy neighbors as you warmed your words with a small laugh that only grew louder as the ‘FBI agent’ stumbled over his own feet in his hurry to come back over to you.

“I’m just down the street, look for the white house with the green door. Down there,” You said, pointing in the direction of your small home. Next to you, Dean leaned in to see things from your viewpoint, carefully following your pointer finger as you felt your temperature rise from his proximity. Swallowing the cotton mouthed feeling, you found your lost voice between one heartbeat and the next as you let your hand fall and took a step back away from him to relearn how to breathe again.

“7 pm,” You repeated.

“7 pm,” He confirmed.

Before quickly throwing you another small, hopeful smile. And hurrying away with a mumbled promise of talking later and bringing candy.

As he walked down the street, looking slightly unsteady on his feet. You couldn’t help the soft smile that played on your lips. Though you didn’t know what would come from it. You couldn't help but feel slightly happy that he’d ran into you.

Like your own special Halloween treat. One that definitely didn’t fit into Lucas’ plastic pumpkin bucket.

And though only time would tell what would happen. You couldn’t wait to introduce the two bravest men you knew to the bravest, smartest little boy you knew. Casting one last glance at Dean, you quickly hurried after Tara and the boys.

Now you had another reason to make sure Batman and you were back home before the sun fully set. At a distance, you swore you could hear Dean’s excited voice as you smiled to yourself.

“SAMMY! You’ll never guess…”

Dean Winchester Tags: @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561 @donnaintx @alwaysdreamingforthebest @thatmotleygirl @chocolateheart @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @starryeyeseunbyul @waywardbeanie @supernaturalenchanted @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @the-lost-wanderer-of-the-night @strangersstranger @tatted-trina6 @jensengirl83 @whatareyousearchingfordean @jackandthesoulmates @gh0stgurl @samsgirl93 @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @dainrumnaheim @440mxs-wife

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #daddy dean winchester #dad!dean #dean dad #angst and fluff #Tales89Writes #dean winchester supernatural #spn #supernatural dean #supernatural #spn fanfiction

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idjits-areus · 27 days

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So I finished 14x07 | Unhuman Nature for the first time earlier and I had made another post about the three dad's and the hospital here. This is going to be about Dean and Jack's road trip that they took.

To start this off Jack and every right to want to do the stuff that he said. Get a tan, see a hockey game, get a parking ticket, and get bored. I particularly love the parking ticket idea because a) he's a year old, and b) he can't drive. Yet, somehow it makes perfect sense. Why shouldn't he be able to do all those things? And he's telling Dean all this with the mindset of 'He's never going to me leave.' The thing is that Dean doesn't disagree. He actually encourages it and he takes Jack out of the bunker and basically for a drive.

The first thing that they do? Jack drives Baby. Like, The Baby. Dean's Baby. The Baby that Dean doesn't let people drive if he's still kicking and he just throws the keys to Jack, who has no driving experience what-so-ever, and says "Hey. why don't you drive?" This is-Dean barely even let Sam drive her. The only time he really did was when Dean went to Hell and purgatory. Every time after that was sprinkles. Dean still mainly drove, so to have Jack drive with no experience is amazing. And Dean was being a supportive, encouraging, patient dad while teaching Jack to drive! I loved it so much.

And then they stop and are eating burgers on the hood of Baby and Dean goes, "I know of a bar near here, little low on class, but high on hook-up potential. Personally, I've never missed at this place," and I immediately had flashbacks to Cas' 'last day on earth' shebang. These are my exact words I said to my phone as I watched this, "Dean. You better not take Jack to a brothel like you did Cas. You can do better." I really hoped that he wouldn't do it, which he didn't thank god. That would've been super uncomfortable for everyone.

And then finally, the fishing in the river. Jack's idea of a good time. He remembered Dean telling the memory of him and John fishing and Jack read into it as a super happy memory. To be fair it probably was. But just the fact that he decided to do this is amazing, adorable, cute, and painful. What basically Jack is saying that Dean is the equivalent of John and Jack is the equivalent of Dean. Meaning that Jack considers Dean as his father. That's so good but ow. And then Jack has to go "I'd miss more time with you" and that hurts because he knows he doesn't have much time left and you know Dean's internally beating himself up over this. Dean just started truly being his father and now he's going to lose him.

God I love this episode.

#so normal about this show #Dean Winchester #Jack Kline #Dean's Jack's dad #Dean's accepted his fate #Father son bonding #I love this episode #spn 14x07 #Unhuman Nature #random thoughts #67 impala #fishing in a river #dean spending time with Jack #episode reactions #tumblr rant

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marvelwifesupernaturalmistress · 8 months

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So I just finished Good Omens recently and I have a couple things to say and my family and friends are so done with my rants about different movies and TV shows.

1: Holy shit that was a good show! I honestly didn't expect much from the show but holy shit it blew me away with how good it was. It was comedic and I found myself laughing so much and it was so beautifully written the characters are just top tier amazing and wow what I'd give to just continuously rewatch it as if it's my first time watching it.

2: I watched supernatural and I thought wow never gonna find another show like this. One that brings me joy and sadness then I found this fucking wonderful amazing show! AND it made me even more sad like what the fuck how do I keep coming across shows that cause me so much fucking pain. Also can we talk about the parallels between the two shows. Oh look two characters working together to stop the end of the world one a demon and one's an angel, counting Dean a demon solely for this post plus demon Dean did exist, both are oh so obviously in love with each other but neither will admit it, most of the angels are dicks and we all hate metatron, there's a demon named Crowley and many more. I mean look at the similarities between Dean and Crowley. Both are in love with their angel best friend, both are absolutely in love with their car, love classic rock, both are some sassy bitches, both don't want to show their emotions but are big softies, and are both the better looking person in the couple (in my opinion). Then look at the similarities between Aziraphale and Crowley. Both are angels in trench coats who are in love with their best friend, they are manipulated, complicated, traumatized, beautiful angels, both have trouble understanding (some) human expressions, and both struggle with their loyalty to heaven. Also, is it just me or does the first like 10 seconds of End Titles- the one that got left in the car from Good Omens kinda sound like it could be a beginning to a Supernatural opening credits or is it just me?

3: My God David Tennant is FINE like I've seen his face sometimes haven't really seen him in much and was like ok yeah he's attractive and moved on. But then I saw him in this and I'm like wow now I get what everyone's talking about. Like just ahhh this man is fucking attractive! I'm honestly ashamed of myself for taking so long to realize.

4: So TikTok in all its wonderfulness blessed/cursed me with a bunch of Good Omens content the day after I finished watching good Omens. Including a looooooooot of people cosplaying as Crowley. And may I just say the people who cosplay him are fine as fuck! I mean it's really hard to dress up as Crowley and not look attractive I mean Crowley is a style icon. But holy shit the people are so fucking good looking like I just can't. My sexuality does a nose dive off the empire state building when looking at them. I was talking to a friend about it and she said it's a case of wanting to be with them or be them and I disagree. I want to be with them all. Just holy shit you want to look good dress like Crowley you'll look fantastic.

5: The effect this show has had on my life is insane. I have been obsessed with listening to Queen since I finished the show. Which I'm not complaining about at all they were my favorite and still are my favorite band before I even watched the show. I have barely listened to something that wasn't Queen or songs from the show since I binge watched the show. I'm listening to another one bites the dust while typing this. Once again not complaining. Also, did anyone else want to dye their hair like Crowley's when they finished the show? Cause I do. I have been blonde my whole life and never wanted to change it and now I want it red. And I need to know if I'm alone in this or not to determine how alarmed I should be.

6: They had no right making the relationship of Crowley and Aziraphale they way they did. First they made them friends who obviously were in love with each other but hid it then they give us them acting basically as a married couple being so fucking adorable and me just wanting the type of love they have for them to give us that ending of season two! I'm not gonna lie if my dad wasn't up and calmed me down I either would've spontaneously combusted from my literally shaking anger or went on a spree. Not sure what type of spree but a spree of some kind.

7: How all of you wonderful people didn't riot or harm Neil Gaiman is beyond me. First when season 1 ended y'all had to wait 2 years to even get a green light that there was gonna be a season 2 and then another 2 for it to finally come out. And then for the season final of season 2 to happen where then you had to wait even longer for season 3 to be greenlight is just you all have a greater will power than me. I'm coming into this with two seasons and a third confirmed so a round of applause to y'all. And now I completely understand why I kept hearing people say they hated Neil Gaiman and stuff like that.

And finally on a somewhat unrelated note I'm planning to watch Doctor who since I'm about to finish another show where can I find it and what order do I watch it in? I've heard many different answers on the order.

Thanks everyone for coming to my rant y'all are wonderful and everyone have a wonderful day!<3

#good omens #david tennant #dean winchester #castiel #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #doctor who #queen #neil gaiman #supernatural #michael sheen

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unpredictable-probabilities · 7 months

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Tomorrows Over Centuries || Chapter 3: A Tale of Our Own

Summary:

Hob tours Morpheus around the bookfair, and they spend their time browsing stories together and talking about which ones they're particularly fond of.

Later on, it appears that people who go to bookfairs are drawn to the Prince of Stories, and Hob's mind recalls the night when a certain playwright caught Morpheus' attention. But unlike in 1589, Hob now has an idea about what he can do to get that attention back...

Word Count: 5,591

Rating: Explicit

Author's Note:

If you want to skip the explicit scene, stop reading at "Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies" and continue again at "Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic".

(more notes at the end)

———

Dream had been aware of the existence of bookfairs, in theory. He had never been to one. Now, as he stood in the middle of it breathing in the scent of books, seeing the daydreams of aspiring writers and avid readers, he decided that it was the type of event he would like to frequent.

“There you are.”

Dream recognized the voice behind him before he even turned to look. He smiled. Something he had found himself doing quite a lot recently.

“Here I am,” he told Hob as he faced him. Dream remembered Hob's remark yesterday about how their dean often wanted them to dress handsomely in school events, and Hob certainly followed that.

“I knew I would find you here.” The corners of Hob's eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“In the fiction section?”

“The stories section. Are we standing in the middle of your creations, Your Highness?” Hob asked playfully as he looked around at the shelves.

Dream turned to Hob curiously; his friend had never called him by such a moniker before.

Hob grinned at him. “Did a little research on your name last night when I got home. I'm in the presence of the Prince of Stories, correct?”

“A little research?”

“Alright, a lot of research,” Hob admitted. “I just found out your name after more than 600 years, can you blame me for wanting to know more?”

Dream would normally disagree with the prospect of someone going to lengths to find out information about him, but as always Hob was the exception. “There would be plenty of time to get to know each other more deeply from now on.”

Hob's daydreams tugged at the corner of his mind, calling for his attention. Dream caught a glimpse of them having breakfast together, walking along the university grounds, falling asleep on the couch in front of the television.

He cleared his throat—a gesture he learned that humans do to interrupt another's train of thought. “Hob, you should know that when you think of me while we are so near each other, I can see your thoughts even if I do not intend to.”

Hob blinked in realization and chuckled. “Right. Well, I don't hear you complaining.”

Dream's lips curved into a teasing smile at Hob's playful tone. “There is no reason to; I fully intend to fulfill all of your daydreams. And then some.”

Hob's cheeks colored a shade of red, and he winked as he said, “I'll hold you to that.”

Dream chuckled, to his own surprise. Hob, however, looked pleased at the noise he had made.

He felt his face warm and opted to change the subject. “What else did you wish to know about me?” he inquired, having decided that he would no longer avoid Hob's attempts to know him better.

“Oh, um…” Hob seemed caught off-guard. “These books, are any of them inspired by you in particular? Did you have a direct influence on them?”

Dream tilted his head ever so slightly. “That is what you wish to know?” He had been prepared for more personal questions, aware as he was that Hob's curiosity knew no bounds.

Hob nodded, a fond smile on his face. “I wanna know what stories you like to write. Come on,” he took Dream’s hand and pulled him to the nearest bookshelf.

Dream glanced down at their intertwined fingers. In centuries past, his friend—though they were much more than that now—would never have attempted such a gesture so casually. A pleasant warmth bloomed within him at the knowledge that Hob felt comfortable enough in their new relationship as to lace their hands together in public.

“Oh, this one has your name on it,” Hob stopped in front of a shelf where a book called The Dreamcatcher Battalion was displayed.

“Ah, yes.” Dream recognized the title immediately. The illustration on the cover featured a group of four children on a flying chariot against the backdrop of a night sky; two of them wore an expression of adventurous determination, while the other two were grinning excitedly. “The author of this one grew up experiencing night terrors, and so she wrote a book about children who have the power to go into other people’s dreams and help them through their nightmares.”

Hob looked mildly surprised before smiling. “And I suppose you inspired that idea by helping her through her own night terrors?”

“I simply kept watch to make sure that the nightmares did not go far beyond their purpose; an overabundance of fear could break the mind rather than help it learn. She must have felt my presence in some way, and it led her to express the same feeling of security through these magical children. She has learned well.”

Hob turned to the book cover with a thoughtful expression. “Does it ever feel that way for you, like it’s an adventure?”

“It is my function; it was never meant to be something for me to detest nor take pleasure in.”

Hob looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay… But how do you feel about it? Right now?”

Dream blinked and turned his gaze to the book once more, looking at the illustrated faces of the characters who have sworn to protect dreamers from the worst of their fears. He felt a twinge of wistfulness at the knowledge that those children had each other’s company at every dream they visit, every nightmare they tame. Never had they had to make the nightly journey alone.

Then a certain librarian’s face appeared in his memory; the one who had watched over his realm even through his unexplained absence of more than a century. Lucienne was first to greet him upon his return, and had remained unwaveringly loyal through his changes in temperament.

And there was Matthew, his raven who had gone with him to Hell despite only being acquainted with him for a few hours at most. His companion who, instead of escaping to save himself, chose to stay and help Dream win the battle against the Morningstar.

“I… feel that I do like my work. Now. Seeing humans bring to life the things they dream of… It is inspiring. Whether the source is a nightmare they learned from or an idea that they dearly wanted to share with the world, I am honored to have been able to help in my own way.”

Hob was staring at him with an expression that he could only describe as fondness, though Dream wasn't certain he understood why Hob would look at him so. “It is wonderfully brilliant, isn't it? I'm glad I took the time to learn my letters at that printing business ages ago. Otherwise I might have missed out on all of this,” he gestured at the books surrounding them. “D’you see any favourites?”

Dream turned his gaze to the bookshelf at the far wall and sensed a particular story. “It would be difficult to pick a singular favourite, but there is one that had caught my attention at the time the idea was born.” He led Hob over to the shelf, silently elated by the fact that walking hand-in-hand with Hob was something that he could initiate now.

They stopped in front of a novel with an illustrated cover of two princes on either side of a princess, showing her various gifts.

“The Suitors’ Quest,” Hob read the title. “Seems like one of those classic fairytale tropes, though for it to have caught your attention I'm guessing there's something more to it?”

Dream nodded. “The story begins with the princes competing for the hand of the fair princess, aye. Then the lady gets taken hostage by the enemy kingdom, and the two rivals must work together to rescue her. They successfully do so, but along the way, they had discovered that who they truly loved was each other, and so neither desired the princess’ hand any longer.”

Hob's eyes had widened in surprise. “And… what, they get together by the end?”

“And live happily ever after,” Dream felt his lips turn up in a smile that Hob readily returned.

“Was it the unorthodox aspect that caught your attention?”

Dream paused for a moment before answering. “That book was published not too long after I had spurned you in 1889. I had thought perhaps… if I had been nearly as brave as those princes in the story, I might have saved the both of us a lot of pain.”

Hob stared at him and ran his thumb soothingly across the back of Dream's hand. “You're here now, love,” he said gently. “And I'm no prince, but you've got about a hundred titles so maybe that makes up for it?”

Dream returned Hob's playful gaze. “There is nothing to make up for. Though perhaps some of my titles might surprise you.” He reached over to the next shelf and picked up a copy of Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats.

Hob raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I am also what humans would call the King of Cats, and I felt the author's fondness of them in every poem of this collection.”

Hob looked at him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Is… Is that true, or is this your idea of a prank?”

Dream let his form flicker momentarily to that of the King of Cats; a feline with thick black fur and a long tail, as tall as Hob while seated on its hind legs.

It lasted for barely a second before he was back to his human form once more, but Hob's jaw had hinged open as he gaped at Dream.

“God's teeth…” he muttered.

Dream suddenly felt his shoulders tense. “Does it bother you?” he had not considered how Hob might react to finding out that not all his forms are humanoid.

Hob blinked. “What? Bother me?” he grinned. “Not at all, love! I had no idea you were such an adorable and fluffy thing, that's all.” He ruffled Dream's hair.

“I am neither of those,” Dream argued even as he felt his face warm and made no move to stop Hob from mussing up his hair.

“You are absolutely both of those,” Hob said as he retracted his hand and instead took the book from Dream. “Well. At least it's a different poet. Dunno if I wanna see any tributes to you by that wanker Shaxberd…”

“Hob,” Dream chided, feeling the corner of his lips twitch with amusement.

Hob made a face that was both petulant and playful. “He took you from me that night, I shan't ever forget it.”

Dream leaned closer to Hob and gazed right into his eyes. “No one can take me from you.”

Hob's cheeks had darkened and his voice had a slight tremor when he spoke. “R-Right.”

Dream felt the beginnings of daydreams form in Hob's mind, and he leaned away once more to prevent himself from looking into them or doing something to Hob which might border on public indecency.

“Shall we look around some more?”

Hob blinked himself back to his senses and grinned. “That's what we're here for, right? Come on, I'll show you some of the history books I saw earlier.” He began to pull Dream along down the aisles. “They got some things right and other things laughably inaccurate. We'll judge them together, you'll love it.”

***

They were in the graphic novels section when one of Hob’s students turned up.

“Hey, you like The Moomins too?”

Hob had been looking for a particular title on the shelves, and he turned around when he recognized the voice. He was about to say that he hadn’t read that series, but he realized that Jade wasn’t talking to him.

Morpheus was reading one of the volumes, and he glanced up at the question. “It is interesting.”

“Yeah!” Jade grinned and stepped closer to Morpheus, the overhead lights reflecting off the purple streaks in her hair. Her eyeliner was thicker than that of Morpheus himself, and her black lace-up boots put her at almost the same height as him.

Hob didn’t miss the way she seemed to be sizing up the Dream King.

The dean was prickly with outfits, and the bookfair felt to Hob like it would be his first date with Morpheus; he had been so preoccupied with choosing what to wear that he had hardly thought about how Morpheus would dress.

Morpheus’ unbuttoned grey jacket showed off how his turtleneck and skinny jeans hugged his figure at the right places, so Hob hardly blamed anyone for staring.

Hob himself was wearing a navy blazer over a blue button-up long-sleeved shirt, his grey pants were tailored, and he had picked his newest brown leather loafers. He felt quite good in the ensemble, especially when Morpheus’ eyes practically roamed all over him when they met up earlier.

He should have expected that Morpheus would be on the receiving end of a similar ogling.

“I grew up reading the Moomin books, and recently I’d been trying my hand at making comics. I find it easier to write stories when I draw the characters first.” Jade smiled at Morpheus in the same way she always did before she asked out a classmate; Hob had seen it a few times along the corridors.

“Jade, nice seeing you here,” he walked over to them and stood beside Morpheus.

He knew there was nothing to be jealous about, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing people flirt with his boyfriend.

“Professor Gadling!” Jade looked surprised to see him. “Hey! Is this your friend?” she nodded to Morpheus. “I was just about to ask him if he wanted to have coffee and maybe talk about comics?” She glanced expectantly at Morpheus.

Morpheus closed the graphic novel and gave his version of a polite smile. “I think not. I am in a relationship with Hob Gadling and would endeavor to remain so for the foreseeable future.”

Jade’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Hob and Morpheus. Then she grinned brightly. “Professor! You told us you were single!” she said in a playfully accusatory tone. “You didn’t share any relationship stories in class when the other professors did last Valentine’s day.”

Hob remembered how the students had cajoled the friendlier professors to share stories of their love lives at the party that was held at The New Inn. He just chuckled when it was his turn and said that he was married to the Inn, all the while thinking of the raven-haired fellow he built it for. He felt himself smile.

“I wasn’t lying, I really was single back then,” Hob said defensively.

“He was. I remedied it.”

Hob was not a person to get easily flustered, but the way that Morpheus smiled at him at that remark was positively sinful that it brought to mind just exactly how Morpheus had remedied it in his office yesterday. It brought up other things to mind too, but Hob clamped down on them before they could turn into full-fledged daydreams that his mind-reader of a boyfriend would be able to see.

He cleared his throat, aware that his face was burning up. “Yeah, we're dating now. Maybe at the next party I’ll have some stories to tell. None of you hound me at the Inn!” he said pointedly, as some of his students tended to waylay him at the pub whenever they had questions about the lessons or just some stories to tell him. “We might have some plans tonight,” he gestured to Morpheus.

“You got it, Professor. Nice running into you both!” She left with a mischievous smile that let Hob know that the entire class group chat was gonna know about him and Morpheus before sunset.

“Her daydreams are loud,” Morpheus said as he returned the graphic novel to the shelf beside him.

“What?” Hob looked at the direction Jade went then back to Morpheus. “Oh. Uh… Yeah. It was a little weird to see one of my students try to hit on you.”

“Her daydreams were about you and me. They occupied her mind as she left.”

Oh. Hob couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. God. The questions he would receive when he got back to class.

“She was wondering about the plans you mentioned. Do we have plans for tonight?” Morpheus asked curiously.

“Maybe? If you want.” Being hopeful got him this far, he wasn't about to stop now.

Morpheus stepped towards Hob, backing him up against the bookshelf. “And would you be telling me what these plans are? Or is it a surprise?”

“I am technically still at work, duck,” Hob chided playfully. “I don't want you snogging me senseless against this shelf.”

“Your daydreams say otherwise,” Morpheus’ voice was a low rumble, and a dastardly smile was on his lips.

Hob swallowed, and his eyes followed Morpheus’ movement as he reached up–

And took something from the shelf above Hob's head.

Morpheus took a step backwards and gave Hob the volume that he had been looking for, a look of feigned innocence on his face. “I believe this is what you wanted to purchase?”

Hob blinked and took the graphic novel from Morpheus as his brain caught up to what just happened. “I'll get you back for that,” he said pointedly.

“I look forward to it.” Morpheus’ teasing blue eyes momentarily flickered to black with pinpricks of stars, and Hob could only smile and press a soft kiss to his lips.

After an hour more of browsing stories of all genres, Hob had a basketful of books he was planning to buy. Morpheus offered to carry it for him to the cashier, but the crowd was thick among the queues, and Hob noticed that Morpheus was uncomfortable with the tight space; his posture turning rigid and guarded despite his efforts to maintain a calm expression.

So Hob had gotten him a cup of hot chocolate from the snack bar and told him to just wait there while he paid for the books. Morpheus had wrapped his hands around the cup and agreed.

Twenty minutes and one heavy tote bag later, Hob waded through the crowd and began making his way back to the snack bar. His eyes landed on Morpheus, and he was relieved to find that he looked more relaxed now than when he had left him earlier.

Hob was less relieved when he realized that Morpheus was talking to some blond man with glasses and a sweater vest, and Hob didn’t need to be able to see daydreams to notice how the chap was looking at his boyfriend.

He frowned as he remembered that the blond was one of the authors holding a book signing at a booth earlier. Hob has never denied being fond of books, and the bag he was currently carrying was evidence of that. But sometimes these writers really got on his nerves. Did they really have to pop out whenever he was with Morpheus?

Hob was standing at quite a distance away, and Morpheus hadn’t yet seen him. He shifted on his feet and wondered whether or not he should approach them.

Well, why shouldn’t he? It would be a perfectly normal thing to do. This wasn’t like 1589 when Morpheus left him to talk to someone else, and they were together now. So whoever that joker was would be the outsider in the group should Hob approach them.

But he could feel his mind overthinking and it glued him into place. What would he say once he got there? Would he be expected to participate in an in-depth discussion about what it was like to create stories? Besides, if he went over there and immediately introduced himself as the boyfriend, it might appear a tad too possessive and he didn’t know how Morpheus would react.

Hob could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. Things were much easier in the 14th century when if a man was making advances on one’s partner, one could simply clock him in the jaw and that was that.

Morpheus met his gaze so suddenly that Hob almost flinched. He had to have known that Hob was there to be able to zero in on him so quickly.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, but Hob could clearly see the curiosity and amusement in the gleam of his eyes. Morpheus turned to the author again, who was entirely oblivious to the moment that had just passed.

He could see my daydreams, Hob realized. That was how Morpheus knew he was there. And the dastardly Dream King was waiting to see what Hob was going to do. Well. Hob did promise to get him back.

He walked to a wall to the side instead of straight to the bar, moving closer in a way that wasn’t too noticeable. Then he called to the front of his mind the daydreams he’d been having about Morpheus throughout his long life. It wasn’t difficult at all; it turned out that remembering them was far easier than trying to suppress them all those years.

It was certainly easy to remember how shapely Morpheus’ calves looked in those breeches he wore in 1789, and the tempting thoughts that had rattled around in Hob’s mind with the knowledge that they had a private room in The White Horse at the time.

1889 was the first time Hob had seen Morpheus with a short haircut, and was unsurprised that it suited him just as well. Hob had been able to see the slope of his neck better, and it was a short route from that observation to the thought that The White Horse had just built a new set of bedrooms upstairs.

Just an hour ago they had been walking along the aisles of books, and more than once Hob had let his gaze wander to those skinny jeans that were perfectly tailored to Morpheus’ arse.

Hob kept his eyes on Morpheus while he let his daydreams run rampant, and he saw his posture tense up again before he politely said goodbye to the author. Morpheus walked away from the bar and blended into the flow of the crowd faster than Hob could keep him in his line of sight.

He frowned and craned his neck to try to see where Morpheus had gone. He wasn’t leaving, was he—?

“Hob Gadling.”

Hob whirled around to see Morpheus standing before him with a dark expression; his jaw was clenched and there was a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Morpheus seemed to loom over him.

Hob swallowed. The feelings stirring within him at seeing Morpheus like this were far from fear, but he did worry that he might have overstepped. “Alright, well, I can explain that—”

“If you wish to tempt a being such as I then you must be prepared for the consequences.” Morpheus’ voice seemed to reverberate through the air around them, and Hob felt the words die in his throat. “Tell me, what did you hope to achieve by baring your thoughts to me thus?”

Hob felt the cold wall against his back and realized that Morpheus had cornered him. None of the people walking past paid them any mind, and he could feel rather than see the shield that Morpheus had put up to hide them from sight. “You know what I want,” he breathed. “I showed you, didn’t I?”

Morpheus’ gaze softened, and he reached up to touch Hob’s face in a gentle caress. “I will not presume, my love,” he muttered.

That word embedded itself into Hob’s chest, and he found himself holding the lapels of Morpheus’ blazer. “I want you,” he held Morpheus’ gaze. “I want to bring you into my home and keep you in my heart, as I hope you’ll keep me in yours.”

“You need not wish for what already is.” Morpheus leaned forward and pressed their lips together. His hands on Hob's waist clutched at his shirt, the fabric crumpling into his grip as they kissed each other with increasing fervor.

Hob pulled back just enough to speak. “Take me to bed, Morpheus,” he managed between breaths. “Now.”

Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies, and sand swirled around them in an instant.

Hob fell backwards into his own bed, barely registering the heavy thud of the bag of books on the floor.

Morpheus’ hungry mouth was on his, and Hob was already pushing his lover’s jacket off his shoulders, tossing it aside the moment it slipped free.

Morpheus straddled him, and Hob moaned into his mouth as their groins pressed together.

“Hob,” Morpheus’ hair was wild and he spoke with a barely controlled voice. “What do you—”

“Everything,” Hob gasped, grinding up onto Morpheus. “All of it. You. Morpheus.”

His lips were claimed once more; and Hob welcomed it willingly. Their tongues pushed and slid against each other, and Hob melted in Morpheus’ embrace.

Hands deftly worked to unbutton his shirt, and Hob wriggled and turned as much as was necessary to get all the restricting layers off of him.

Morpheus’ mouth traveled up his jawline, resting just below his ear where Morpheus sucked and nipped at the tender flesh.

Hob arched his bare torso against Morpheus as his breathing came in shallow gasps. His hands roamed under Morpheus’ turtleneck, exploring the smooth skin underneath.

Morpheus hummed low in his throat before his shirt disintegrated into nothingness. He returned to exploring Hob's mouth with his tongue, all the while grinding his hips down.

Hob whined desperately into their kiss, his hands gripping Morpheus’ arse as he rutted against him. Too much fabric was in the way, and he pulled at the waistband of the blasted tight skinny jeans in the hopes that they would disintegrate too.

Morpheus pulled away from their kiss with a gasp, and it fueled the fire inside Hob to see his godlike lover so worked up to the point of breathing, lungfuls of air that his physical form seemed to need now.

He vanished the remaining of their clothing, and Hob couldn't find it in himself to care where his expensive trousers might have ended up, not when Morpheus crawled down his body and wrapped his mouth around his cock.

“Ohhhhh,” Hob arched off the bed, fists clenched in the sheets beneath him. Morpheus worked him from root to tip, his tongue flicking languidly at the slit. “Fuck,” Hob screwed his eyes shut as Morpheus’ throat tightened around him, his tongue and lips impossibly soft and molten hot. “Morpheus— I… Christ have mercy—” he squirmed and arched his back, but Morpheus’ hands were an iron brace against his hips, preventing him from moving them even an inch.

Blessedly Morpheus lifted his hands in order to spread Hob's thighs wider, but before Hob could think to move his hips, he felt a slick finger prodding at his entrance.

“Morpheus—!” his cock twitched in anticipation.

“Is this still good, my beloved?” his voice was rough and his gaze hungrier than it's ever been as his lubricated finger slipped in.

Hob nodded mutely, unable to form words around his shallow breaths as a second finger followed. Soon his hips were grinding down with abandon when there were three digits twisting and scraping along his walls. “M-More… I need—ahh…”

Morpheus watched Hob with rapt attention as he brushed Hob’s prostate repeatedly, enough to drag him to the edge but not beyond it.

“Morpheus,” Hob’s cock lay heavy and twitching, dripping pre-come as Morpheus continued his onslaught.

“Are you ready, my dearest?” Morpheus curled his fingers beautifully inside Hob.

“Ah—! Yes! I need you in me... Please…” Hob's hips were rolling of their own accord, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.

Morpheus leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on Hob's lips, the gesture a sharp contrast to the relentless movement of his preparation of Hob. He retracted his fingers, and Hob keened as he clenched down on the sudden emptiness.

But Morpheus didn't leave him wanting for long, lining himself up and pressing in so slowly that Hob felt every inch of his lover filling him.

Hob's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in his head; his fingers dug into Morpheus’ shoulder as he thrust his hips upwards in encouragement. “Yesss… That's it, love… That's it…”

Morpheus latched his mouth onto the side of Hob's neck, his own breathing ragged as he retracted and sank back in, deeper every time. With his lips came tongue and teeth; he found a tender spot where Hob's neck meets his shoulders and bit down, just enough to make Hob gasp and buck his hips, drawing out a groan from both of them.

At a particularly powerful thrust, Morpheus buried himself to the hilt and a bolt of pleasure shot through Hob's core—

“Ngh! Morpheus…” his fingernails clawed at Morpheus’ back, his thighs, urging him to move with the rolling of his hips. “Don't stop… don't stop… Fuck…”

“You… are exquisite…” Morpheus looked down at him with such adoration that Hob felt himself flush even more along with the heat that seemed to be emanating from both of them. “Astonishing… Beautiful in your—”

Hob grabbed the back of his neck and crushed their mouths together, diving his tongue as far as it would go. Morpheus sped up in earnest, gripping Hob's hip as his thrusts became more powerful.

Hob threw his head back and gasped, pleas and moans and soft curses falling from his lips. The delicious pressure within him was building up fast, his thighs began to tremble, and he tensed up as he prepared to be hurled over the edge—

Morpheus slowed down, his previously brisk pace giving way to a more measured one, his lips pressing soothing kisses to Hob's neck.

“Wh…? My love… Darling…” Hob panted, the crash of frustration muddling his ability to form sentences. “What—Agh!” Sparks flashed behind his eyes as Morpheus slammed into him, picking up speed again as his breaths came in hot at Hob's ear. “Yes… Ah—Ah…”

A whine escaped Hob as Morpheus slowed down once more, his fingernails scraping Hob's thigh as he shifted into a deeper angle yet maintained a languid pace.

“You mad bastard…” Hob groaned as he realized what Morpheus was doing. He tried bucking his hips, but his lover had him pinned quite helplessly.

Morpheus lifted himself from Hob's torso to look down at him with a teasing smirk. “Do you not want to draw this out, my dearest? Will you not have me for as long as you could?” He punctuated this with a deep thrust that was infuriatingly not followed by another.

“You're going to kill me,” Hob panted and gave Morpheus a glare that was as sharp as his crumbling wits would allow him. “You would murder me in my own bed—” a gasp punched out of him as Morpheus’ cool fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Oh, not at all.” Morpheus began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, going faster and harder. “Though I have many plans for you in this bed. And my own, if you would permit me.” His breathing grew more shallow, and his gaze never left Hob as if he were a prey he intended to devour whole.

Hob could only produce noises that made no sense; words were beyond his reach now. Did Morpheus just invite him to his home? His bed? If Hob would permit— God's wounds, if only Morpheus knew that Hob had been willing to go anywhere with him long ago.

He could feel his orgasm approaching stronger than ever, and he whimpered at the thought that Morpheus might slow down again, but the heated kiss that his lover bestowed on him promised otherwise.

His moans became grunts as Morpheus sped up inside and around him, he dug his nails into Morpheus’ back, clutched at his hair, they gasped and panted into each other's mouths, and Morpheus twisted his hand just so at the same time as he slammed into Hob's prostate.

Hob came with a yowl that took the air from his lungs and convinced him he had gone blind for a moment; he trembled uncontrollably as he unraveled beneath Morpheus, who followed him over the edge with a guttural sound that branded itself onto Hob's brain.

They kissed and held each other through the aftershocks, their breaths and sighs mingling together as the tremors slowly dissipated. Hob made a soft groan as Morpheus gently pulled out and collapsed beside him on the bed.

Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic around them as Morpheus waved his hand and cleaned them up.

Then Morpheus laid a gentle kiss on Hob's forehead and began carding his fingers through his hair. “Are you all right, my love?” he murmured.

Hob nodded sluggishly, still catching his breath and reveling in the feeling of Morpheus’ soft touches on his scalp. He faced Morpheus and pulled him close, putting his arm around his waist and nuzzling his face against his neck. “I love you. Did I ever say?” He felt Morpheus’ breath hitch and his pulse quicken slightly.

“No. You have not said so before.” Morpheus tightened his embrace before continuing to thread Hob's hair between his slender fingers. “And I love you, Hob Gadling. With all that I am and all that I will be.”

Hob hummed in contentment, resting his hand over Morpheus’ heart that beats only for him, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

———

Author's Note:

Now with art by @emihotaru depicting their kisses~

Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats is a collection of poems by T.S. Eliot; the musical Cats is based on this collection.

The Moomin books by Tove Jansson started as a comic strip and eventually became adapted into a series called Moominvalley.

The other stories mentioned in the bookfair scene are made up by me and @patchyegg87 based on vibes and Tumblr posts we've seen from long ago.

And I know I said I was planning to post this chapter last January so I apologize for how late I actually did--

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

Special thanks to @patchyegg87 for keeping me motivated throughout this whole thing and brainstorming scenes with me~

I'm also grateful to the other Dreamling writers whose works inspired me to write this fic in the first place:

@moorishflower

@delta-pavonis

@purplesauris

@beatnikfreakiswriting

@signiorbenedickofpadua

@cuubism

@hardly-an-escape

I know I've never spoken to some of you but I just wanted to say thanks~

And to my readers, thank you for your patience with this late upload! I hope you liked the chapter!

———

<- Chapter 2

(Masterlist)

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incesthemes · 6 months

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ok tumblr deleted most of my tag essay on this post, so i've recreated and expanded upon it in its own post.

so the op of the post made a great point which really touched on why i've been feeling that i had a fundamentally different takeaway of season 9 compared to the rest of the fandom. i have a lot to say in response to this, not in argument but in support and synthesis of it.

i'll start with dean at the beginning of season 9: he has a great struggle in 901 regarding gadreel possessing sam, more so than any other struggle he's faced when saving sam's life, which points to me as him being aware of and conflicted about sam's history of possession. he understands this is crossing a line because it's similar to lucifer and meg, and so accepting gadreel's deal is violating sam to a length dean hasn't gone to before. dean by and large is the one who has this particular ethical problem (shown throughout the first half of season 9), not sam. hell, dean is the one who leaves sam once gadreel's out, without even waiting for input because his self-loathing is that strong.

sam, on the other hand, is more textually concerned in his 912/913 arguments with the lack of trust ("i can't trust you, not the way i thought i could") and dean's selfishness ("you did it for you"). this is an ongoing conflict sam has with dean, since the beginning of the show. dean doesn't trust sam to make his own decisions and therefore makes them for him, without sam's consent or knowledge. sam wants to be trusted to stand on his own, and he wants dean to put the same faith in him that he puts in dean. this is the core of sam's needs; the violation of autonomy is just an externalization of these needs and this conflict.

and i don't entirely disagree with the connection between going behind sam's back to keep him alive against his will and a rape narrative. both involve a lack of consent and a violation of agency. however, it really doesn't stop there, and it's a lot more complex than that.

and that's what rubs me wrong about more common interpretations of season 9 that i've seen. because this isn't really what the season is about. this violation on its own isn't the point. or if it is on the surface, it's equally about sam lying to himself about what it's actually about. he's consistently left out of major decisions regarding his own life and then lied to about it "for his own good," and he wants the right to choose his own path.

except, as we learn, that's not true. he lied about it. because the point of the whole season is that sam and dean are the same. they will make the same decisions to save each other over and over again. the point of the whole season is that sam has been lying to himself.

i said this in another post, but i think a big reason sam was able to lie to himself about this fact is because he's had the opportunity to let dean go on several occasions. he's been unable to save dean the way dean has saved sam. he fails where dean succeeds. sam has been forced to endure a grief that dean has never had to experience because dean always brings sam back. and so because sam has endured these experiences maybe he's more comfortable letting dean choose death in the abstract—the hypothetical. but in reality when it comes to that point, sam can't actually follow through, because he's just as dependent on dean being there for him as dean is dependent on sam.

and that's what season 9 is about. sam has been lying to himself about this reality from the start. this is why 1019 parallels 311 regarding how insane sam is about dean. it's reiterating the facts we've known but with a new perspective, now that sam is done deluding himself. he needs to accept that he was lying to himself and to dean, and this is what allows season 9 to close and for season 10 to begin, because season 10 is a response to sam's realization. he chooses dean over everything else in a monumental display of hypocrisy and genuine understanding of himself and who dean is to him.

seasons 8-10 should be taken as a single, cohesive unit, and the show goes to great lengths to enforce this. season 9 mirrors season 8, and season 10 acts as a response to and therefore a continuation of season 9. you can see this in the way charlie's death mirrors kevin's (one brother's lies and deceptions leads to increasing stakes that could have been avoided through honesty and openness, which culminates in the death of their beloved ally, and the deceptive brother blames himself for that death because his own unethical actions led to it), or how both of them undergo a change in their physiology as a result of godlike power entering their bodies which mutilate them from the inside and have fatal consequences (sam with the trials, dean with the mark of cain) which can only reasonably be resolved with their deaths (and they both even enter the final stages of this conflict by going to confession). also the plot structures of seasons 8 and 9 on their own mirror each other very closely.

this is all very important because it outlines the purpose of each of these two seasons. it's about them being fundamentally betrayed by their brother, causing that brother to become desperate and feel rejected and unloved, only for them to get what they need out of each other to reaffirm their love. they have to function as a unit, because otherwise both season's primary conflicts (as in, the conflicts established in the first half of each season) are left unresolved. instead, sam gets what he needs from dean in 823, which means that in return dean gets what he needs from sam in 923, thus closing the circle that was opened in 801.

dean reaffirmed that sam is the most important person in the world to him in sacrifice, that he would choose sam over every single other person on earth—this is what sam needed to hear, because it's the foundation of the conflict in season 8, since sam thinks dean chose benny over him and this sent him spiraling into a suicidal depression and self-loathing. so season 9, consequentially, is about dean getting what he needs from sam: he needs to know that sam will do anything in his power to save dean, which is a conflict that began in season 8 (with sam not searching for dean in purgatory) and is reasserted in 913 when sam tells him that he wouldn't violate his agency if the situations were reversed.

and this is exactly what dean gets in 923, when sam says he lied about all of that. dean gets the affirmation that sam's love for dean goes beyond petty ethics, which translates to "dean is more important to sam than anything else in the world" where the "anything else" includes sam's own moral boundaries. this is important to dean because dean eschews his own moral boundaries for sam's sake and safety over and over again throughout the series, and this is a major source of his own character development (see: 122, 203, 214, 222, et cetera et cetera). sam repeatedly denies that he's the same way, and has proven at least once that he wouldn't do the same, so this is an important affirmation for sam to give and it's why dean had spiraled into a suicidal depression and self-loathing (look, another parallel).

so season 8-9 are mirrors of each other, and they have to be mirrors of each other in order to work structurally and for any of the conflicts presented to be resolved. season 10 then is a response to this which shows the consequences of those dual resolutions: aka, sam acts just as unethically as dean does in the rest of the show, except this time knowingly and intentionally instead of subconsciously as he has been doing up to now (see: 1001, 1003, 1004, 1018, 1020, et cetera et cetera).

in order for all of this to work, the conflicts in season 8 and season 9 have to be equal. i.e. dean has to violate sam and his ethics as badly as sam violated dean and his ethics. it also has to be suitably Bad because it's revisiting a conflict that's existed in various iterations across the entire show. this is why it's also deeply important that 923 dean's death also parallels 222 sam's death, because it highlights how this conflict has always existed and how sam and dean are similar to each other. they both make the same choices under pressure and go to equally unethical lengths. which is why season 9 couldn't end until crowley told the audience that sam was trying to make a deal with him to bring dean back to life, specifically after dean begged sam to let him die. the point, then, was never about the violation itself: sam disregards dean's right to choose death just as much as dean disregards it. the season is about how sam and dean are at their cores the same, and it's about sam becoming aware of that reality and then actively, consciously choosing it. which is what sam reiterates across season 10, as a response to his choice in 923.

he only realizes that this is a Bad Thing in 1101 (i.e. after the response has run its course) when he says they both have to change. and the "both" is important because they are the same, fundamentally. sam isn't innocent of this violation of agency and obsessive deception of his brother, and he needs to understand that before actionable change can be made, which is what season 10 is all about.

and there's something poignant that can be said about 1023 being titled "brother's keeper," because this episode is about sam playing the role of brother's keeper, only for it to blow up so spectacularly in their faces that it causes the apocalypse 2.0. it forces sam to recognize that his original conclusion (that dean was right, and that he was lying) was not actually the correct and moral way to continue living. the significance of 1101 only reveals itself in the foundation laid by seasons 8-10, because these are the seasons about sam discovering just how down bad he is for his brother and accepting it wholeheartedly. season 11 then seeks to fix what seasons 8-10 broke, which is of course the entire fucking planet.

and this is the problem: the first apocalypse was caused by the absence of love, and the second was caused by too much love. their love is a destructive force that has world-ending consequences. that's the point of these seasons, what it all comes back to. in receiving the exact type and strength of love they needed from each other, they ended the world. and this is the conflict they need to resolve in season 11, or at least try to. because their love for each other can, has, and will destroy the world, over and over and over again. this theme can't exist unless seasons 8 and 9 mirror each other, unless season 9 is about sam's hypocrisy.

without that world-ending love, they couldn't have started the second apocalypse. if sam weren't a liar, he would have respected dean's choices, and he would have let dean die. if sam truly cared about bodily autonomy, dean would have died in 923 when he begged sam to let him. but he doesn't; that's not the point of the narrative. of course the violation of autonomy is important, because it provides the foundation for the conflict. but the violation is itself a metaphor, a triple whammy of symbolism: the possession is a metaphor for violation, and the violation is a metaphor for betrayal (as seen through the lens of deception).

the point of season 9 is not that dean metaphorically raped his helpless little brother; rather it's that the violation of agency goes both ways, and sam is a hypocrite for trying to maintain his autonomy while stripping it from dean. it's a continuation of season 8, which thus compacts his guilt over "abandoning" dean in purgatory and his self-loathing and fears of not being good enough or worthy enough of dean's love, which thus causes him to act recklessly and injuriously toward himself and dean. it's not a positive conclusion by any means; like i said, this is what causes the second apocalypse, and it's only after they've ended the world twice that sam finally sits down and says maybe they were wrong about this whole thing. maybe their love is too destructive.

in 912, sam says: "something's broken here [...] we don't see things the same way anymore."

in 1101, sam says: "this isn't on you. it's on us. we have to change."

sam goes from blaming dean to blaming both of them, because he realizes that they're both equal partners in their toxic, fucked up love. season 8 and season 9 allowed them to become equals by giving each other the affirmations they desperately needed to achieve true enmeshment, and season 10 is the consequence of that unhealthy relationship.

the point was never that dean violated sam. he does that over and over again throughout the series without destroying their relationship. the point is that sam is willing to violate dean all the same, and he had to face that reality head-on and accept it to resolve the conflict between them and give dean the affirmation he needed, just like dean gave sam the affirmation he needed in 823. the violation was simply a vehicle through which the conflict could come to a head, and the most provocative symbol this show could possibly use was the metaphor of sexual assault and rape, given sam's history with it via meg and especially via lucifer.

i've probably written enough now. the tl;dr is that season 9 invokes what can be interpreted as a rape metaphor not to vilify dean or even really to continue sam's ongoing rape narrative (though the violation that occurs in season 9 uses this as a foundation for the conflict and that's important to understanding the gravity of the situation), but rather to give appropriate stakes to mirror the primary conflict of season 8 and provide grounds for dean to get resolution for the conflict that began in 801 and continued through 923. god i hope this makes sense because now i've written this essay twice and i'm so miserable because of it.

my apologies if any of this is repetitive or meandering or lacking in any way; i tried really really hard to recreate my original essay and also provide more evidence and groundwork for my argument but obviously i'm sure i've missed some details and overlooked structure in many places. if you read this far, i love you and please talk to me about seasons 8-10. i'm losing my mind

#supernatural #at some points i feel like i sound overly critical of sammy and i want to stress i am a samgirl and he's everything to me #and i also don't think this trio of seasons vilify him either even if my arguments might sound that way #i think his development across these seasons are fantastic even if they aren't all rainbows and sparkles. he's a great character #since the essay was originally a response to the first linked post it addresses the issue with the 'rape narrative' reading of s9 #more heavily than my other arguments. so yeah that's probably why i'm worried it comes across as more critical than i intended #also calling someone a hypocrite is a rather loaded term even though i'm using it neutrally. but i digress #.txt #the winchester gospel #spn posting #spn9 #spn8 #spn10

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