#ask request spn

[hellsitegenetics]

I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer, because the one thing I want... it's something I know I can't have. But I think I know - I think I know now, happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being, it's in just saying it. What are you talking about, man? I know - I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken - your daddy's blunt instrument. And you think that hate and anger, that's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not! And everyone who knows you sees it. Everthing you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love, you fought fo this whole world for love. That is who you are! You're the most caring man on earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell - knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, but I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean. Why does this sound like a goodbye? Because it is. I love you. Don't do this, Cas. Cas- Goodbye, Dean.

String identified: aa , c t tat , tat c, at t c , at t a c . a a, ca t tg at… t' tg ca't a. t t - t , a 't t ag, t' t g, t' t ag t. at a tag at, a? - , a. t a a . ' tct a ' ag a ' - a' t tt. A t tat at a ag, tat' at , tat' a. t' t! A t. tg a , t g a t a, a . a tt t , gt t . Tat a! ' t t cag a at. a t t , g a g . , c t, c t - g a cag . ca ca, ca. ca at . ca at a, ca at ac, t ca at t ca . cag , a. t a g? ca t . . 't t, Ca. Ca- G, a.

Closest match: Apoda limacodes genome assembly, chromosome: 12 Common name: Festoon

[zepskies]

Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back

Hey lovely!

So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."

But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.

When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."

But the spark. That spark is instant.

He feels it with you.

Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.

It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.

But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.

Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")

You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.

Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.

Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.

But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.

And Dean...he likes you. A lot.

More than he's ever willingly expressed.

But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.

Until he can't help himself.

It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.

But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.

It's just a fucking cake.

Does it really matter that much to you?

But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."

It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.

"Sure," Sam laughs.

What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.

That smile tells him something.

"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.

At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.

"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.

"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.

"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.

A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.

You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"

Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.

"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"

You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."

Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.

"Close your eyes for me," you request.

"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"

"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"

He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.

For a moment, he freezes.

He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.

Relief floods in its wake.

A smile reaches his face.

But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.

He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.

It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.

You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.

Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"

Your smile is beaming bright.

"Yeah, that works."

Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.

And he answers you again.

AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉

Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[daily-castiel]

Day 25

[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[mas0ch1st1cbaby]

Got a request from anon for some Sam Winchester art and thought it'd be fun to draw him. :D

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Hey, could I request a trans (ftm) and Gabriel fic perferrably with a wing kink/preening?

Thank you so much for the request. I think I went through like four iterations until I felt it was what the wonderful user wanted. I feel very honored for the request. I hope it is what you wanted. ❤️💛

Request: Gabriel x ftm Reader, Wing Preening

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,073

Summary: Gabriel flirts his way into getting his husband to assist preening his wings.

A/N: I suck at titles. Hush.

I want to thank @mochatheangelkiller for their help.

Gabriel walked into the bedroom shirtless, in boxer briefs, and with his golden wings folded behind him. “Hey,” he said to Y/N, flirtatiously.

Y/N looked up from his book with a small smile upon seeing Gabe as he was. “Do you need something?” He asks, teasingly.

Gabriel saunters in, raising his wings up and about, a mating display, he knows that Y/N likes to see, especially once the archangel explained them. He finds Gabriel’s wings beautiful and loves to touch the soft feathers when Gabe has them out.

Y/N grins, wondering if Gabe is trying to seduce him or wanting him to help preen him. He knows his archangel boyfriend likes to seduce and tease, sometimes at the same time.

Gabriel crawled onto their four-poster bed towards Y/N. He put his book down on the nightstand waiting to see what the lovely golden-eyed angel does.

Y/N quirks a brow at Gabriel, their smile relaxes watching the angel’s movements.

The messenger of god straddles Y/N's comforter-covered thighs and wraps his hands around his neck.

“Gabriel,” warns Y/N. He crosses his arms, not reciprocating Gabriel’s advances.

The archangel rolls his eyes and crosses his arm. “Ok. Ok. I need help with my wings,” he mumbles sheepishly.

Y/N’s face softens, leans forward, and places a chaste kiss on Gabriel’s lips. “The word is ‘preen’.”

“I’m not calling it that,” the Angel pouted.

Y/N grins, amused. It’s an argument the Y/N uses to tease the Angel since it’s hard to tease The Trickster who claimed to be Loki, Norse God.

“Go on, sit down,” Y/N pats next to them and slides off their side of the bed so Gabriel can spread out one of his wings to allow Y/N to work. He goes over to their laptop on the desk and puts on their usual playlist for preening.

Returning, Y/N begins first with the left wing by straightening and ‘zipping’ feathers before gently removing loose ones. Gabriel shivers at the initial contact and relaxes into his touch. The messenger sighs in contentment. Y/N smiles at the sound and then focuses on the task at hand. The gentle movements and massaging stimulation the oil glands throughout the wing and on Gabriel’s back. Knowing where they are across his boyfriend’s wing, Y/N begins to slowly spread the oil and then skims their hands down Gabriel’s back. He can feel goosebumps rise at their touch along the Angel’s back as they collect more oil. He coats the oil on each feather as the youngest archangel showed them.

It’s so easy to do the task and just relax especially with the instrumental music playlist. The scent of the oil permeates the air: a sweet, clover-like scent, honeysuckle with a hint of tobacco. Y/N takes a deep breath and just loves the scent that embodies the one who has their heart. Their nipples tighten under their T-shirt and feel themselves becoming aroused.

“I love you, Gabriel.” He smiles as he works on the front of the left wing.

“I love you too, hot stuff.”

Y/N chuckles at the angel’s endearment for them.

“You doing okay?” He asks, worried that holding the wing up may be tiresome for the angel.

“I’m good,” Gabriel responds, confidently.

There is a pile of broken and loose feathers next to the man. He takes them and puts them on Gabriel’s nightstand.

“Okay, swap sides.”

Gabriel folds his wing back and moves to sit on the left side to allow Y/N to work on the right wing. Gabriel spreads the wing out, and Y/N gets on the bed and starts again. Straightening and ‘zipping’ the feathers back followed by removing loose feathers, making another pile.

Y/N has always been affected by Gabriel’s scent. His arousal simmering as they work on the other side of the wing. He can see that Gabriel is just as affected as he is if the bulge in his underwear is anything to go by.

“Enjoying yourself?” Y/N teases.

Gabriel looks at them as his eyes remain on the wing. “What do you think?”

Y/N grins, wide, at the returned tease. He slows down about halfway done with the inside of the right wing. He relaxes his face, trying to seem focused on the task and not trying to ignore their arousal. Breathing deep and slowly doesn’t exactly help, it does help them focus. They have a goal in mind with Gabriel’s progressive bulge.

Gabriel presses on his hardness over his boxer briefs.

Y/N reaches over and smacks his hand. “No,” he commands.

Gabriel whines, pursing his lips into a frown.

“Patience, Angel.”

“You know I can't do that.”

Y/N chuckles. “Liar. You waited for me.”

Gabriel smiles and rolls his golden eyes. “True,” he quietly agrees. “You were worth it.”

Y/N smiles, feeling heat rise to their cheeks, as they continue along the ‘arm’ oiling the feathers.

Gabriel shivers through his wings.

Y/N grins, wickedly. He knee-walks and straddles Gabriel.

“He-llo,” Gabriel greets and wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist.

“Hey,” Y/N greets back. He wraps his arms around the angel’s shoulders and grounds down on the angel.

He throws his head back and groans. Y/N leans forward and sucks marks along the angel’s tendon, his neck nipping, laying kitten licks, and soothing them. He slides his hands down Gabriel’s back to the main oil glands and presses on them drawing a gasp from him as he arches his back.

Y/N leans forward, lips against his ear. “You like that, Angel?”

Gabriel is panting and pushes his hips upward, two pieces of cloth separating their bodies. Y/N hums in pleasure, leans back, and takes off his shirt, revealing two silver scars across their chest from their top surgery. The Angel’s hand comes up and traces them like he does every time. He revels in Y/N’s bravery, determination, and resilience. The scars speak so much of Y/N’s past struggles and knows how lucky he is to call him his.

Y/N bites his lower lip, his eyes watching the awe on Gabriel’s face the angel has every single time. He smiles at his angel.

“Gabriel,” he whispers.

The angel looks at him, pupil large with a sliver of golden at the edges. Y/N smiles, ready for so much more.

Want me to write more? Let me know. I would love to hear from you. 📝❤️

[phrysic]

helloo i was wondering if i can request a selfship of mine with a SPN character.,,runs away and giggles

HERE YOU GO!!! extremely sorry i took so long to do this...

[sammygender]

Do you have any SPN fic recs?

always!!! since u didnt ask for anything specific im just gonna link some ones ive read recently and rly liked, tho i do have a more extensive precanon fic rec list lying around somewhere in my #fic recs tag. no precanon here cause i havent been reading much of it recently - in fact all of this is late seasons. read tags/warnings for all

here are some total faves:

thesis 5 by a_good_soldier (7k, sam &...sam!, sam & dean, sam & cas)

via time travel shenanigans, late seasons sam ends up having a chat with early seasons. literally sickening in the best possible way, perfect distillation of sam and the fucked up awful changes hes been through and his relationship with fucked up awful dean <3. trigger warning for background destiel though (im joking). there are some crazy good lines in this, cannot recommend enough, makes me feel clinically insane. also 20 year old sam eats a sushiritto.

sometimes a kind of singing by adi_rotynd (23k, sam & jack, sam & dean, sam & lucifer)

s13. best late seasons fic ever and exactly what i look for in spn fic and miles better than anything i could ever write, perfectly grapples with every fucked-up dynamic and doesnt shy away from any of it. sam gets cursed and jack can see souls. jack pov is so so good. what im discovering via writing these fic blurbs is that im really bad at describing fic but like. just read it.

the one where things don't really get better by angelszn (3k, sam & jack, sam & dean, dean & jack)

another absolutely excellent s13 fic. can you tell i have a Thing for s13 in all its abusive bunker family core. again dean is perfectly late seasons awful in this - i need to make a fic rec list of well characterised dean. sam has problems with mirrors, jack wants one, and dean is dean. <3

still life by themegalosaurus (20k, sam & jess, sam & lucifer)

s12ish. jess is back. do i even need to say more than that

charmer and gentle by askance (3.6k)

late seasons outside pov of a girl who works at a gas station near the bunker. love outside pov and this one is SO fucking good. sam in this is so dear to me and writing is so lovely

and here are some ive read recently i rly liked:

stuck by howldax (4k, sam &crowley)

crowley gets stuck possessing sam after 9x10. fantastic characterisation and v cool concept . i dont normally read stuff with much crowley so this was rly interesting

low road through the gloaming by jribbing (sam & dean, sam & john, 3k)

ok, i lied, this is partially precanon but only due to flashback scenes, its s7. writing is just absolutely beautiful and heartwrenching. sam and dean are on a hunt, and sam's having flashbacks. tw for past abuse. john is worse in this than i believe him to have been but *shrugs* its fic for a reason and brilliant fic at that.

a matched set by lovetincture (1k, lucifer/sam (referenced, past, noncon), lucifer/mary)

lucifer pov. s13ish. short and fucked-up <3.

[sleepyreese]

Could I request some Little!Dean paci icons? Maybe with a specific rock (music) themed paci one? If not it's fine or if you've already done this, have a great day! :]

Hope you like these!!! It was fun to track down pacis for this post (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

Dean Winchester Paci Icons!

₊˚☆°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°☆˚₊‧

I usually make 4 icons per post, but I found a lot of good photos/pacis, so I made 6 instead :]

₊˚☆°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°☆˚₊‧

PS. Anyone can use my paci icons by either putting credit in their bio (pfp by @sleepyreese) or by liking and reblogging! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ (Please like or reblog if you save as well!!!)

[deancasforcutie]

the way Dean wordlessly blasts this type of dad rock whenever Cas returns during their fights to shade him for leaving: a web weave

[smellingofpoetry]

Hey ! I saw that you wanted some requests to try and write more and I think it's a great idea ! So here I am to give you a prompt : "I was so scared. Please don't do this again." Let your creativity speak ! 😘

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst

Word count: 522

A/N: Hi! It has been so long since the last time I posted anything. A few days ago, though, I asked you to send me some requests to help me get back on track with my writing. This one was one of those I've received. I couldn't post it until now because it was a busy week between work and my brother visiting me, but finally, I can post. I'm so excited about it and I hope you guys like this story. Let me know what you think. ❤ All errors are mine.

Y/N stormed out of the abandoned house without saying a word. Dean glanced toward his little brother quizzically. Sam sighed, bending on his knees to start gathering all their stuff. 

“You should go talk to her. I’ll come down as soon as I’m done here –”. Or never, he thought, not wanting to get caught in the middle of whatever was going to happen. 

Dean glanced one last time at Sam before going down the stairs and out the door. He found her pacing back and forth, arms crossed at her chest. 

“Are you alright?” he tried, not knowing what he was walking into, not for sure. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asked, stopping midway in the dusty alley and facing him. 

“Excuse me?” he could already feel the adrenaline mixed with a few shades of anger wanting to take over.

“You just died in there!”

“Not my first time.”

“Could you take this seriously?” 

Dean widened his arms, not knowing what was her problem. “We closed the case, and I’m back, so I don’t see where the problem is.”

“You don’t see –” Y/N half laughed at his comment, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to keep the calm even though she was already feeling it slip away. “You died in there.”

“You already said that.”

“And you don’t seem to be fazed by that.”

“I did what I had to do to protect you and Sam.”

“None of us asked you to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your life, like at all?”

Dean frowned at her question like he could really have a choice when he had to choose between him and them. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter, not when it came to the people I – ” he stopped, catching himself in time “– care about.”

Y/N could feel her wall starting to crumble and her eyes filling with hot tears. “I was so scared in there. I went in the other room for two minutes,” Y/N said, feeling her voice crack. “Two damn minutes.” She pointed it out like that could make her feel better. “And when I came back, you were gone, and I wish that begging you to, please, don’t do this again would work, but it won’t because you decided that you don’t matter." She said, resigned. 

“Y/N –”

“Hearing you say that you don’t matter when you do – to me, you do – it broke my heart,” she said with a sad smile and teary eyes. “And I’m this close to giving up, and I know that’s not fair to tell you this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Y/N glanced behind Dean’s back, watching Sam sadly smile at her, probably witnessing the whole argument between her and his big brother. She sighed before turning around and walking toward the car. She took hold of the handle, opening the passenger’s door when she felt Dean’s hand on the window glass, stopping her movement. 

“Just –” he whispered in her ear. “– just – don’t give up on me. Not yet, please.”

[lambmotifz]

azazel/sam fic recs

rosemary by tradwifesam (sam takes the pregnancy test on christmas eve.)

father, don’t you see i’m burning? by tradwifesam (azazel!john/sam. sam’s wanted john for as long as he could remember. azazel takes advantage.)

destiny (more or less) by withthekeyisking (if sam won’t agree to be his leader, then azazel will simply have to use him to make a new one.)

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SW Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Finally Reunited (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Supernatural

Warnings: Death, Character death, angst, mourning, hints of suicidal thoughts/tendencies (It’s Dean)

Request: Hello could you do dean winchester x daughter reader and btw if its okay for you to write the end episode of spn. Wherein instead of dean died its the reader and then they kinda have talk in the heaven. Kinda miss you writing angsty lop wait are you still writing son or not?

Dean had known that this day would come eventually. The day where he died and there was no coming back. He couldn’t say he was surprised, he had gone into that case knowing it was more than likely a suicide mission, even Sammy knew that and told him as much. He thought of his little brother, now alone in the land of the living until his own time came for him, but Sammy was an adult, he had been for a long time, he was always the more rational one, the one to think things through- he’ll be fine, he’ll have a long life, maybe pass on the Winchester name and when his time comes, Dean will be there waiting for him. And anyway, there was someone else who he needed to see, someone who’s been waiting for him for far too long. 

As the beautiful garden around him entered his vision, he didn’t bother to look at the details, only looking around frantically. He knew where he was, he knew he was dead, he knew he was in heaven, and he knew that you had be there. The garden at first glance was empty, and that made his heart jump into his throat for a moment before he looked around again, and spotted what he was looking for. Pass the pond with a bridge over it on his left, was a gravel pathway that led to a large round gazebo, and stood upon it, looking off into the horizon, was you. Dean sighed with relief. You were here.

He let his legs carry him over the bridge and down the path, and as he grew closer, he knew it was you without a doubt. You were wearing the same clothes you wore when you died, all the way down to his old jacket that he had given you just the birthday prior to your death that he had hoped would have stopped the long, ragged nail from puncturing your back and heart, but it was false hope, and seeing the jacket, clean of any blood, made him shudder. He could still feel the cold leather on his fingertips as he held you in his arms as you passed away, and the last time he saw that jacket alongside you was when he had to burn your body. Seeing it again, seeing you, was a surreal feeling, and he didn’t know what to say, even when he was right behind you. All he could think to say was your name.

You heard him, and it was like your mind became crystal clear. All the noise in your head while daydreaming vanished. You slowly turned, looking over your shoulder until you saw his face clearly. “Dad?” Your voice was what finally broke the man. He didn’t even try holding back as a sob hit his body and he took a large step forward and engulfed you into his arms. For you, you were in shock, but that didn’t stop you from grabbing ahold of him just as tightly. 

“I missed you so much.” Dean told you, letting his heart speak and nothing else. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you.” He pulled away just enough to properly look at your face- oh how he missed it. Since you’d died he’d been relying on photos on his phone and older photos he had printed out from when you were a lot younger to speak to you. He had a collection of photos in his room on a shelf- from the first photo he took of you when you were a tiny baby, fully unaware of the world to the very last photo he got of you, which was taken moments after you had successfully pranked your uncle, making your dad insanely proud. It was just a few days after that final photo you were killed, and he kept that photo on his bedside, so everynight before he went to bed he could look at it, look at you, talk to you, and make promises to you. Promises to kill the monster who killed you. Promises to tie up his loose ends. Promises to not leave you waiting for him. He kept those promises. 

“How did you die?” You asked him. He wasn't expecting that. He stumbled over his words a bit. He knew that if he told you the truth, that he died at the end of a hunt, bleeding out in the Impala, you’d be upset, maybe even disappointed. Most arguments with you were about his recklessness, fearing a life without him, a life where he died and didn’t come back and left you alone. “Did you have a long life?” You asked him, not waiting for a response. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” The words slipped from his mouth. He felt bad lying to you, but he thought about it, and realised… yeah. He did. He never thought he’d made it to his thirties, nevermind his forties, and he definitely didn’t think that in his life he’d become a rather to a little girl, more importantly live long enough to watch her grow up, or even outlive her. He’d lived a long life when it comes to the life of a hunter. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to live as long as I did… especially without you.” He told you. A soft smile fell on your face, and Dean knew he’d tell you the truth eventually, but only after catching up. “Anyway, enough about me. What have you been up to while I’ve been busy? You better not have been sulking.” He teased you. 

“Of course not! I went looking around- I found some old friends of yours dad! Back from when I was really little and before I was born- there’s two people who heard my last name and lost their crap- they’ve been keeping an eye on me while I’ve been here waiting for you, they’re called Ellen and Jo- OH! And Charlie is here as well! They’re gonna be so happy to see you! They’re not far from here, Ellen is running a Heaven Bar, it’s become a sort of hot spot for dead hunters, come on!” You took his hand and dragged him along. Damn, it’s been quite a while since he’d heard those names, and he knew he was about to see them all again after saying goodbye too soon. 

Sam will be alright without him. He knew it. Now he was making up for long time with his little girl and reuniting with old friends. Maybe death wasn’t so bad.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @meadow-melody @multifandomfix   @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies​ @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines​ @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[agerefandom]

Since moodboards are open would you be willing to do a age regressor Sam Winchester maybe with some fantasy books

A baby!!! Absolutely!

[soullessjack]

ok chat I have a burst of energy give me money drawing ideas to do tomorrow night please and thank you