#dean you WILL burn in hell (affectionate)

[sammygender]

spn s10 finale ate. sam as sacrificial lamb :(. can’t believe they fucking killed charlie

[muffinbeliever]

Drunk Confessions

The reader makes fun, girly drinks for the boys. Chaos ensues. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 582 (she's a smol one!)

Warnings: alcohol (?), fluff, very rushed lol 

Square Filled: Feelings Accidentally Revealed @spnfluffbingo

A/N: oh my god hello everyone i am so sorry for the long hiatus/break that i took unexpectedly i missed you all so much and i felt so guilty every day that i didn’t write oops here is a little drabble because i cant bring myself to write more than 2 pages right now, for my 2022 fluff bingo that i am continuing through 2023 (OOPS) i love you all and i hope you enjoy !!!

Masterlist | SPN Fluff Bingo 2022 Masterlist

You slammed the shot glass on the table as the whiskey burned your throat. Your face wrinkled in disgust.

“Oh, that is just… that’s awful,” you said with a shudder. “You guys like this stuff?” 

Sam threw his head back with a laugh while Dean looked at you like you grew two heads. 

“What?” You asked, defensively. “Don’t tell me whiskey tastes better than literally any fruity cocktail in existence.” 

“Dean is still scarred from the time he drank purple nurples,” Sam smirked. 

“What the hell is a purple nurple?” 

“Don’t even ask,” Dean groaned, shaking his head. An idea sparked in your head before you could reply, so you curbed your curiosity, formulating a plan instead. 

“I’ll be right back,” you announced, as you stood from the wooden chair. 

An hour and three drinks later, you were buzzing with alcohol, your body filled with warmth. 

“Woah, Sam, are you drunk?” You asked, perplexed. In all of your years with the brothers, you had never seen either of them drunk. Alcohol was like water to them. 

“Psh, yeah,” he said, sassily. 

“How is that possible? You’re a giant. And you’ve been drinking since you were twelve!” 

“‘Cause Sammy only drinks beer, sweetheart. You get three shots of liquor in him, and he’s out for the night,” Dean laughed, but his slightly slurred words and shining green eyes indicated that he, too, was pretty far gone. 

“At least I’m not short.” Sam bit back from where he was slouched in an armchair, giving his classic bitch face. "And bossy.” You laughed at his seriousness. He looked over at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing so hard over there, Y/N/N. You’re the one who’s in love with him.” Your jaw dropped at Sam’s bluntness, your eyes quickly darting towards the older, henley-wearing hunter, who was luckily drunk and distracted. 

“Shut up, Sam,” you laughed, nervously, hoping Dean was too drunk to hear the tremble in your voice. 

“Please. Sound familiar? ‘I would rather stay in Purgatory for a week than spend one more night listening to Dean with another girl,’” Sam said, mocking you in a higher-pitched voice. 

“You said you’d never bring that up!” Your face was heated, embarrassment steadily growing inside of you. “And I don’t sound like that!” 

“I’m getting another drink,” Sam slurred, getting out of his chair. 

You watched with amusement as he stumbled towards the alcohol on the table, carefully sniffing each one, before settling on a fruity cocktail you had finished making just minutes before. You smiled at your small triumph.

You looked over towards Dean again, your heart melting at the bright smile he flashed you. 

“Hey,” you murmured once he was close enough. He pulled you into his arms, and you relaxed in his embrace. Drunk Dean was handsy and affectionate, always talking about how good you smelled. You were familiar with Drunk Dean, having met him a few times throughout your years with the brothers. 

“If I had known you felt that way, I wouldn’t see all those girls,” he said, quietly. Your heart soared at his words— the words you’ve been wanting to hear for so long now— but you knew that it was wrong for you to ask this of Dean, and you shook your head. 

“No I get it, it’s your coping mechanism. You like it,” you argued, albeit weakly.

“No, Y/N. I like you,” Dean insisted, before capturing your lips with his. 

Taglist: @akshi8278​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @lanea-1​ @slamminmine​ @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester @bakugouswh0r3 @muhahaha303 @allaroundjejje​

[ambersgems]

Bonded - Epilogue - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where you can feel your soulmate's emotions. When you meet, usually their name appears on your wrist.

A/N: Finally here! So sorry this took SO long to get out. I've been kinda drained. Any feedback is appreciated! I also would love requests for anything Dean, Chris Evans characters, or Sebastian Stan characters! It can be blurbs, drabbles, or longer!

Word Count: 2.4K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

P.S. I know that this is not in line with the timeline of the show, but for the purposes of this fic the boys already have the Bunker. 

8 months later.

Reader POV

Waking up was different now. You woke up every morning with at least one of Dean’s arms wrapped around you and there was usually a leg wrapped around you too. Today was no different. Your eyes opened lazily as you woke up in your usual spot, halfway on top of Dean with one of his arms around your back and his thigh in between the two of yours. Your head was always laid on his chest. You didn’t even know why you had your own pillow on the bed, you never used it. Dean never allowed you to.

His other arm moved up and brushed some hair out of your face, signaling that he was also awake, causing you to lift your head and look up at him. His bright green eyes were wide open, staring down at you with the same adoration he had every morning. 

If Dean was known for not being an early riser, you were notorious for it. You realized he had probably been awake for a little while now, but he didn’t want to wake you, so he had been holding you while you slept. It was things like this that made your heart clench in your chest, in a good way. 

“G’Morning, gorgeous,” you hear him murmur, his voice was husky and deep with sleep, causing your cheeks to burn.

“How long have you been up?” you ask shyly, biting your lip as your eyes slide over his face and down his chest, admiring the freckles that littered his body. They were everywhere and so uniquely him.

“‘Bout an hour, but I didn’t wanna wake you. S’beautiful when you sleep on my chest like this. Reminds me of a little baby, my little baby,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips. His fingertips slide up and down your back, before he leans his head up to give your forehead a kiss.

A smile breaks across your face. Dean was incredibly soft with you. He could be quite harsh with everyone else, but the moment you were in his presence he softened. It shocked the hell out of Sam the first time he had ever seen it. He was gnashing teeth and barking orders, but the second you came up to him, placing your small hand against his chest, he immediately calmed and apologized to you and was saying he hoped he hadn’t scared you. It threw Sam for a loop, but it became something he took note of, now knowing how to reign in his older brother when necessary.

You shake your head and giggle slightly at Dean’s affectionate words and stare, rolling your eyes playfully. “You should have woken me up. You don’t have to just lay here because I’m asleep,” you say sincerely, feeling a little guilty he had been up for so long.

“First of all, I don’t have to do anything. I think I have proved to you that no one makes me do anything I don’t want to do - and you know that I absolutely love spending any time with you alone that I can, even if you are just sleeping on me.” he states plainly, “Second of all, I would never wake up the birthday girl before she’s ready!” he adds with a huge grin spreading across his cheeks, causing the lines beside his eyes to form. You just knew one day those lines were going to become a more permanent feature on his face, and you loved it. It was just another thing that made him Dean.

Before you could protest, Dean was yelling loudly. “Sammy! She’s awake!”

Sam came bursting through the door, balloons in hand as well as a tray full of all of your favorite breakfast foods. 

“Happy Birthday, Y/N/N!” he cheered as he set the tray down on the foot of the bed.

You quickly sat up in the bed, your cheeks heated due to your lack of clothes. The only thing you were wearing was one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin t-shirts. Thankfully, it fit more like a dress than anything. 

“Thank you so much. You didn’t have to go to all of this trouble,” you smiled at Sam gratefully. You honestly weren’t sure how your birthday was going to go this year. There were still a lot of things left to learn about the Winchesters, but Dean and Sam had already made you feel like you were family.

“Well, I’d love to take the credit, but this was all Dean. Dean always makes the Winchesters’ birthdays special, always made sure mine was special, too, growing up,” he says with a fond smile. 

Your eyes snap open, “You think I’m a Winchester?” you ask in shock, turning slightly to look between the two brothers.

“You think you’re not?” Dean asks, a frown forming on his face.

“Well, I don’t know. It’s not like we’re married or anything. It’s not like we can even get married, with you being wanted by the FBI and all,” you say with a shrug.

“Sweetheart, you’re my soulmate. My bonded soulmate. You are just as a part of this family as Sam or I am. You’re a Winchester as far as we’re concerned. Hell, if you want to change your name, nothing in the world would make me prouder than for you to have my last name. You haven’t been caught with us yet, you could simply change your name with no questions asked,” Dean rambles, his hand reaching out to grasp your own.

“Really?” You ask quietly, your heart racing in your chest, eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Sam, seeing both men nod their heads rapidly.

You leap forward, arms wrapping around Dean’s neck as you kiss his cheek. You giggle as he wraps his arms around you, sliding his hands up and down your back, pulling you to sit in his lap. 

Your giggles stop for a moment as you blink your eyes a couple of times, feeling a bit lightheaded. Dean can feel you getting weak almost instantly. Immediately he snaps into overprotective mode. 

“Y/N? Y/N what’s wrong, talk to me, baby,” he says urgently, concern evident in his voice. 

You shake your head, giving him another laugh. “Dean, calm down. Just got lightheaded for a second there. I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? I could feel you getting weak,” he says, clearly not taking what you stated as truth. 

“I’m fine. Let’s just eat breakfast. I need coffee!” you say, bouncing in his lap with a smile, feeling his arms wrap tighter around you. You knew he was still feeling protective. You could literally feel the stress from him.

His serious face finally cracks and he lets a smile show, “alright, sweetheart, let’s have breakfast,” he relents. “But just know, my real breakfast starts when Sammy leaves,” he smirks.

“Oh, gross!”

—-----------------------

After breakfast, Dean’s second breakfast, and getting ready for the day (with a lot of Dean distractions in between), you had finally managed to make it to the library to read a bit. 

Ever since Dean had told you about the world that he was a part of, you had become fascinated with everything that had to do with lore. Dean liked to brag on you and say that his girl was a genius, but you knew he was just being silly. You were just hyper observant. Plus, it wasn’t all that hard to read him as your soulmate. 

You quite liked reading up on all of the mythology, though, and you had become very well acquainted with it all in such a short period of time. Sam claimed by the time you were 3 months in with them that you already knew just as much as he did, if not more. Your retention of information astounded both Dean and Sam. 

It still worried you to no end to let Dean go out on hunts. How could it not? Dean was literally one half of your soul, and you had to sit and wait at the bunker while he went to go fight the evil of the world. 

“He’s a lot more cautious now that he’s met you,” rang in your ears. It was one of the first things Sam said to you after you waited at the bunker for him to come home from his first hunt since you had met. Sometimes that rang in your head over and over again. You hoped that it was true. You don’t know how you’d survive without Dean.

You loved the library so much that Dean had a couch put in there especially for you to curl up on. He knew how much you liked to curl up with a blanket while you read, so he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible while you researched leads for one of their cases. Even though Dean had forbade you from ever going out into “the field” for cases, he allowed you to help with the research, so as long as you stayed in the bunker while he worked on a case. 

You curled up to your spot on the couch, pulling your fuzzy blanket up your legs and cracking open your book. Dean was taking his shower, since you denied allowing him to take his with you this morning, otherwise he would likely be sat behind you while you read your book.

You noticed that same lightheaded feeling again, as your eyes scanned over the pages. You shook your head, trying your best to have it go away. Suddenly a wave of nausea hit you, but you remained seated as you tried to steady yourself. You didn’t want to alert Dean. He was already so overprotective of you. You knew he would stress out if he thought you were even remotely sick. 

You could feel the weakness in your body. You really hoped that you weren’t coming down with something. This was the first time you’d actually ever enjoyed your birthday.

You heard the wet slaps of feet hitting the concrete floor coming down the hallway before you saw a soaking wet Dean with a towel loosely hanging on his hips. He rushed towards you on the couch, kneeling down beside you. His hands instinctively made their way to the sides of your face, holding your head up for you.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I got you. I got you - I’m here, baby,” he whispers, looking into your weak eyes.

You couldn’t explain the way you were feeling. The nausea was overwhelming, and you felt so dizzy you thought you might pass out. At first, you thought it might be the bond, like what happened the first time, but this felt different. It didn’t feel as connected to Dean as before.

Before you could ask Dean what was happening, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and things went black.

—---------------------

Dean’s POV

He was in the middle of his shower, rinsing his hair as he felt it. Something was wrong. He could feel you getting sick, just like he had earlier. Something was off. You were weak this morning, weak right now. He knew you were about to get sick.

Quickly, he jumped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the rack and wrapping it around his waist before taking off down the hall to the library. He didn’t care that he was soaking wet as he ran to find you. Panic was starting to settle into his veins as he felt you getting weaker.

As soon as he reached you he knelt down in front of you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. He knew he had to help keep your face up, as he could feel the strength leaving your body.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I got you. I got you - I’m here, baby,” he whispers, looking into your weak eyes, knowing you were about to pass out.

He caught you as you fell, making sure to lay you down gently on the couch. 

“Oh, sweet girl, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered softly, knowing you couldn’t hear him.

He had started connecting dots over the past couple of days. You were different. You weren’t eating the same. Your sleep was off. He could feel how tired you were. He could feel the exhaustion. Now with the nausea, weakness, and passing out? Dean prided himself on knowing you and this was all coinciding with a date that he would never forget. 

—--------------------

He smiled down at you as he gently brushed your hair from your face, feeling you stir underneath his touch. 

“Are you back with me, sweetheart?” he asks you gently, watching you intently as your eyes slowly open.

“What happened?” he hears you ask him blearily, feeling your fear begin to spark.

His smile widens as his eyes take you in with adoration. 

“You remember second breakfast on Labor Day weekend, baby girl?” he asks with a smirk, pride swelling in his chest.

Your brows furrow, and he chuckles at the sight.

“Yes?” you reply, not understanding why he would reference something at a time like this.

“You also know how we told you you’re part of the Winchester family? And you ought to go and change your name?” he asks, smirking again at your confusion.

“Yes?” you respond again, still swimming in unknown thoughts.

“Well, sweetheart, we’re expanding that family by one more now, and you damn sure better be giving them our last name,” he grins, his smile crinkling at his eyes.

He could feel the love swelling in your chest and see both the shock and excitement on your face. He could hardly contain his own.

“You’re serious? We- we’re having a baby?” you ask, tears filling your eyes.

“Yes, we’re having a baby, baby!” he replies, placing a hand on your lower stomach. 

“We can go to change my name tomorrow,” you grin.

“I think it’s very fitting that we found out today, actually,” he says, his hand gently rubbing your stomach.

“Today, you’ve reached the Age of Choice. You’ve chosen to be with me, and now we’ve found out that the two of us have created the ultimate bond. A baby. One soul, that is quite literally half you and half me,” he announces, tears beginning to fill his own eyes. 

Your eyes light up as you place your hand on top of his, smiling as you say,

“Bonded. Forever.”

Tagged by Request: @imaginedreamwrite @suckitands33 @chase-porter @hobby27 @sarahgracej @deansbxtchboy @globetrotter28 @lindalouh

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 131

Frontierland/Flesh and Stone

“Frontierland”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean are sent back in time to the Wild West so they can meet Samuel Colt and asking for his help in defeating Eve

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I don’t think I’d find myself in 1860s Wyoming…much less in a shootout there

I literally cannot with this show sometimes. WE UNSANK AND RESANK THE TITANIC YESTERDAY. CAN WE LEAVE THE TIME TRAVEL TO THE LAST OF THE TIME LORDS PLEASE. Like…remember when, aside from the existence of monsters, this show had any roots in reality? It’s still fun as…well, hell is demonstrably NOT fun. But it is solidifying itself as the “put that guy in situations” show

Y’all are both some NERDS (affectionate). Geeking out about having access to Samuel Colt’s journal. Also the fact that Dean knows as much as he does about Star Trek????? Hello??

Is she (the angel Cas sent) wrong though?? Do they not only call Cas when they need something??? While he’s fighting a war in heaven??? I get they can’t exactly reciprocate helping him out but damn

Dean 🤝 Sokka: older brothers who enjoy three things: meat, sarcasm, and shopping. Dean just went on a whole spree for their 24 hour trip to 1860s Wyoming

Oh…this isn’t going at all how you planned. You were so excited to be in the old west, and then you get immediately made fun of

You could have been anyone. You could have been just yourself, but you had to go and be Clint Eastwood, didn’t you? And then made Sam Walker Texas Ranger, which is…wild to hear in 2023 from whenever this episode aired

Can’t tell if the guy the town hanged was the phoenix because he told the people physically close to him they’d all burn for this or if that was a blatant red herring

I was right. It was just foreshadowing. At the same time, the commitment this show has to making monsters look like just some guy…

Sam, Dean’s having a hard time with not fitting in here, let him have his “posse magnet” and “I love posse” jokes just got now

Aw not Rachel. I liked her…oh god, Cas. Noooo.

Dean’s the sheriff now??

Somehow, Sam was the right person to send to go get Samuel Colt, but in the weirdest way possible. Like, told him he was from 2011 and then handed over his iPhone or whatever as proof

Good thing Castiel came to with an hour left in the boys’ excursion

Excuse me?? What have you two been doing for almost a full hour?? There’s two minutes left, your conversation about how the only way to heal Castiel enough so he can go retrieve the boys was to touch Bobby’s soul only took a couple minutes.

There really are too many people ACTUALLY burning to death in the shows I watch. It’s not fair to me personally.

Love it when they do something for a whole episode and it’s seemingly for absolutely nothing

Ah yes. The classic surprise delivery from the past trope. The “this has been sitting around the post office for so long we thought it was a joke. It’s real??”

“Been On My Mind…”: No. 3?

"Flesh and Stone"

Plot Description: The Doctor and his friends are forced to escape through the forest vault after they are surrounded by the Weeping Angels.

The Doctor keeps telling them to not take their eyes of the Angels, and what do they keep on doing?? NOT LOOKING AT THE ANGELS

(I really need to stop waiting so long to watch this...because...it's just not good for my ability to pay attention, not that there's a lot to comment on yet. They're just running from the Angels)

...I don't remember why Amy keeps counting down...

Oh, Amy, if you think a forest on a spaceship is cool, wait til you see DINOSAURS on a spaceship

Fuck...the Angels are making Amy do the count down because its FUN for them. Goddamn.

I'd be acting so much more scared than Amy is in her position. She has to rely on everyone else to not blink while she's not allowed to open her eyes. She's been left by the Doctor again, and not even River can stay with her.

It's a beautiful shot, but it's also so sad...Amy, completely abandoned in the forest, not able to open her eyes, and the Angels trying to close in. Every time she tries to get someone to stay, they leave.

How did Eleven get the reputation of being the silly goofy Doctor?? The way he has scarily yelled in just about every episode so far…

The angels were scarier when we never saw them move.

Well that’s taken care of the angels and the wall crack……..for now

I do love the pandorica stuff…those are some really good episodes

“If you like” is probably the best response to “can I trust you?” I just really love River

I just…really don’t love that last scene between Amy and the Doctor 😐

[theirprofoundbond]

One year ago today, I drafted the opening of The Rescue—what I affectionately refer to as “Sad Toast Buttering Scene.”

Dean has no idea what time it is.

He’s buttering a piece of toast at the island counter, and the only thing he knows is that it’s been too long since he last felt like eating. So he scrapes his knife slowly over the bread, trying to make sure every bit of the surface is coated, because maybe a methodical approach to food preparation will make him want to eat the end result.

As he works, Dean realizes with utter detachment that his toast days are numbered. The people who make butter are all gone. Hell, the cows are all gone. And once all the bread in the world goes bad, Dean’s not going to bother with baking his own. They won’t have electricity or running water for much longer, anyway.

So that’s that.

Because everyone is gone.

They have been gone for three days, and the only ones left on Earth are him, and Sam, and Jack.

When he’s done with the butter, Dean sets the knife down and regards the toast.

It cooled as he was working, so most of the bread is glazed with bright yellow butter, softened but not melted. It glistens in an unappealing way, and all Dean can do is stare.

Everyone is gone.

Everyone including—

Dean picks up the cold, stiff toast and bites into it, and it tastes like nothing, but he chews and swallows and is determined to swallow everything else down, too—everything—the way he has for the past three days.

He forces himself to take another bite, and imagines that he and Sam and Jack will wander the Earth eating food out of cans until they die. Dean’s lips twitch into a ghost of a smile at this, thinking how infuriatingly boring that will be for Chuck to watch.

“Fuck you, man,” Dean mutters, stuffing the rest of the toast into his mouth. He dumps his empty plate in the sink and dusts crumbs off his hands.

Read The Rescue on AO3. Dean/Castiel. 58.6k. A fix-it fic that diverges after 15x18. Angst with a happy ending, pining, slow burn. Mature. No Archive warnings apply.

[surlybobbies]

(1.3k deancas AU - no warnings - rated T - friends to lovers)

Dean’s in so over his head, and he knows it as soon as Cas dims the lights.

“What, we need ambience to drink leaf water?” he asks derisively, hoping Cas can’t hear the nerves in his voice.

Cas is taking his seat by Dean, much closer than he was sitting previously. His knee knocks against Dean’s. “It’s not a blind taste test if you can see, Dean.”

“You could just blindfold me.” Dean wants to stuff the words back in his mouth almost as soon as he says them.

Luckily Cas doesn’t comment on the implications. He just slides his half-lidded gaze toward Dean and says, “We’re handling very hot liquid.” His voice has gone all hushed velvet all of a sudden. “So in this case I don’t think a blindfold is wise.”

“Fair enough,” Dean murmurs. There’s no reason to be quiet, but he feels like any sudden movement or noise might shatter the bubble of peace they’ve made. “How do you want to do this?”

Something about Dean’s answer makes Cas smile. He leans an elbow on the table and reaches for the mug closest to Dean. His leg presses hard against Dean’s. “How about we start from left to right?” He hands the mug to Dean and meets his gaze. “Smell this and tell me what you think.”

Dean hovers his nose over the rim and inhales. “Green tea,” he says almost immediately, his nose wrinkling. “I mean, it’s the only thing Sammy drinks.” He’s glad for the semi-darkness because his face is flaming from the intensity of Cas’s observation.

“Taste it,” Cas says softly, and something about those two words falling from Cas’s lips makes Dean’s throat go dry. 

He lifts the mug and sips at the hot liquid. He lets the flavor sit for a second before he shrugs. “Tastes like leaves,” he says, knowing it sounds stupid but also knowing it’s true.

“No bitterness?”

“Nah,” Dean says, taking another sip and contemplating. “It’s like sipping dirt water.”

Cas’s eye roll is mostly affectionate. “I’m sure there are better ways of describing it, but I suppose that’s accurate.” He takes the mug from Dean and tastes the tea himself, his eyes slipping closed in appreciation. “Green tea can turn bitter if the leaves are steeped too long, but this is actually a perfect cup.” When he opens his eyes, he graces Dean with a soft smile. “It’s a shame you don’t think so.”

Helpless, Dean licks his lips. He’s amazed when Cas’s eyes dip to watch the movement. “Maybe it’ll grow on me,” Dean says faintly.

They stare at each other for a beat, two beats, three beats too long. Dean sees the movement of Cas’s throat as he swallows. It’s excruciatingly slow.

The moment is gone in the next second when Cas tears his eyes away from Dean. He reaches for the second mug. “What about this one?” Cas murmurs. His voice in the stillness of his apartment, the brush of his hand against Dean’s, makes Dean shiver.

The tea is strong, the fragrance almost cloyingly sweet. “Smells like candy,” Dean says, interested despite himself. He drinks, then lifts an unimpressed gaze to Cas. “And it tastes like someone tossed their gumwad in a cup of water and called it tea.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “It’s actually an artisanal tea from South Korea.”

“Ah,” Dean says, not quite sure how to save face. “It’s...unique.”

Cas takes the mug and stares at the surface of the tea. To Dean, it looks like pond water in the dim light, but he thinks Cas would probably have described it as amber, or the color of the sunset reflected on a pond, or something equally as poetic. Dean still isn’t sure what he’s even doing here, sitting in Cas’s apartment, being blessed with his time and his tea and his smile.

Amazingly, Cas seems amused as he says (almost as if he wants Dean to fall in love), “I know our tastes are very different, Dean, so don’t worry about offending me.” He looks at the three other mugs he prepared. “Judging by how this has gone, however, I’m not sure you’ll enjoy the rest.”

Dean almost chokes to get the next words out: “I’m sure as hell gonna try.”

The way Cas looks at him - affectionate, grateful, like Dean means something to him - almost makes it worth it when Dean burns his tongue on the next cup.

 “Oh,” Cas breathes, reaching for Dean’s shoulder in alarm. “I’m so sorry. Black tea needs hotter water. I wasn’t thinking–“

Dean waves off his concern, but he lets Cas’s hand trail down his arm until it’s clutching Dean’s elbow, because he’ll take Cas’s hands where he can get them. “I’m fine,” he eventually manages to say. “It’s not that bad.” It feels like his tongue’s been scraped raw, but he already looks like a dumbass so he doesn’t say that.

Cas’s gaze is painfully fond. The hand at Dean’s elbow tightens for a second. “I would have preferred you come away from the experience without injury, but I appreciate you trying.”

Dean feels lit up from the inside out, and he’s not sure he can blame it on the tea. He shrugs, face hot. “I mean, tea can’t be all bad if you like it.”

Cas looks down. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, “I like a lot of other things, you know.”

Dean does know; it’s not like he can help his attraction to Cas. He knows Cas likes to write, that he likes to read, that he likes to hike and bike and explore and watch the wildlife in the spring. He knows Cas likes cream puffs and period dramas and soft blankets and early mornings. He knows Cas like the back of his hand at this point, but still he asks, “Yeah? Like what?”

Cas lifts his gaze to Dean’s. His answer is tentative. “Like you.”

Dean is at a loss. “Like me?” he stammers.

“I like you, Dean” Cas says softly, blinking at the spare bit of floor he can see between their knees, still pressed against each other. “A lot.”

The last bit was barely more than a whisper, but in the stillness of Cas’s apartment it sends reverberations through Dean’s chest that leave him short of breath. Slowly, he cradles Cas’s jaw with a hand and lifts Cas’s gaze to his. Cas’s face is flushed even in the dim light, but his eyes are clear and wide. 

Dean is a nervous wreck, but he leans in, watching Cas’s face. He hears Cas’s inhale, sees the way his lips part. It’s like every dream Dean has ever had of Cas, except this time Dean gets to follow through. He kisses Cas.

Then he almost knocks over three mugs with his elbow when Cas kisses back.

They go to bed. 

--

In the morning, Dean wakes up first. He steeps some tea leaves in hot water and brings it to Cas in bed, shaking him awake before it cools. Cas’s expression turns tender when he realizes Dean’s gesture, even after he tastes the tea and wrinkles his nose in distaste at the bitterness. “Thank you for trying,” he says, smiling down at the mug. “You really don’t have to pretend to care about my hobbies, though. You’ve been burned enough. Literally.”

Thing is, Dean does care about Cas’s hobbies because he cares about Cas. He’s not sure how to say that just yet, so he just reclaims the mug and tastes it himself. His tongue is still a little tender, but the bitterness distracts him from the pain. “Steeped it too long, didn’t I?” he asked, making a face.

“Water was also probably too hot,” Cas says, but he’s looking at Dean so fondly that it doesn’t feel like a criticism.

“I’ll get it right one day,” Dean says, putting the mug on the nightstand.

Cas’s smile is wide. It’s incandescent. It warms Dean through like a cup of tea. 

Cas tugs him back into bed.

----

Tags:

@super-powerful-queen-slayyna @lifeisingrey @crisp-tiger-riot @fangirlingtodeath513 @levicastho @dmsilvisart @hello-vague-stuff @bold-sartorial-statement @massivefaceperson-blog @livebloggingmydescentintomadness @shelterfr0mthestorm

[onceuponakhaleesi]

Gish Item 04 2022

The all too familiar scent of grave dirt pierced the otherwise crisp quiet of the night accompanied by the sound of the shovel hitting earth. This was something the brothers knew well, the heavy darkness of night surrounding them, accenting the felony they were committing gloriously.  

The shorter of the two, Dean, paused to take it all in. Almost enjoying himself, despite the back breaking effort of the grave dig, this hunt had almost been too easy. Classic haunting, spook getting frisky with the remainder of his own family... even being thrown across the room into the couch had been a nice touch. Now they just had to burn the bones and they would be out of this place and on to that diner they’d passed on the way in to town.  

Beside him the taller figure was distinctly less at ease. Sam had had a bad feeling about this place ever since they’d set foot in this creepy little town. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on brought a chill to the back of his neck like an icy electric charge. The sooner they got out of here, the better. With one great swing down, the familiar clunk of metal on wood let him know the end was in sight.  

“Hot damn, we’ll be eating pancakes in 20.” Dean exclaimed gleefully, his own shovel scraping the dirt off of the coffin below. Sam rolled his eyes affectionately, his brother was certainly not the king of tact on the best day, yet he wouldn’t have been Dean if he were.  

“Really? Pancakes? Dean, It’s barely 1am. You’ll be lucky if the gas station’s open in this place.”  

Dean put his shovel down and pulled himself out of the crater they had dug with ease, sitting on the edge a moment with his legs hanging down. “Are you kidding? Places like this ALWAYS have an open diner. Have I taught you nothing? Now let’s gank this Son of a Bitch, I’m starving.”  

Climbing out of the grave, Sam tossed his own shovel to the side and reached for the crowbar without much thought. “You know I’m not sure it’s appropriate to refer to a dead kid as a ‘Son of a Bitch’ even if he did kick your ass in there...” Sam braced himself and positioned the crowbar in the weakest spot he could find on the rotting wood. Pushing hard, the lid of the coffin popped up with a satisfying snap. Dean glanced around in expectation to the quiet night, waiting for the ghost’s inevitable appearance.  

“I’ll have you know that that little bastard is stronger than he looks. He’s got that whole ‘Dead kid upset that Mommy’s had a new family’ rage. It’s hardly a fair fight.” Dean flicked his lighter open, tossing a bottle of salt to Sam with his other hand. Sam once again looked to his older brother with an air of disgust. “Dean. You know that’s not why he’s vengeful. Don’t be an ass.” It was Dean’s time to roll his eyes, sometimes Sammy’s inability to make light of the darkness they faced daily was a real drag. Of course, Dean knew the kid was upset because he’d been murdered by some dick in the woods, but hell dark humor was how he dealt with the crazy crap he’d seen.

“Shut up and throw the salt before Casper decides to make an appearance.” Dean’s lighter flickered to life just as a rustling sounded from the trees nearby. Immediately alert, his head snapped in the direction of the noise, hunting mode snapping into place like the expert he had been raised to become. “Speak of the devil... We’ve got company.” Drawing his weapon, Dean moved closer to the tree line to peer into the darkness.  

The rustle sounded again; this time closer. Sam lifted his own shotgun filled with rock salt; the grave forgotten for the moment as the brother’s began to move towards the trees. Beneath the rustle of the trees a rumble of noise almost like a low rattle brought the hairs on Sam’s neck on edge. “Dean, I don’t think that’s a ghost.” He muttered.  

Dean moved slowly into the underbrush, ignoring his brother’s weariness. Something red had caught his gaze, glowing enticingly at the base of the largest tree. “What the hell is that?” He uttered almost to himself, uncertain of the thing which he saw. The tree almost seemed to pulse with an unholy light, drawing him in. Dean tentatively reached out a hand towards the glow.  

“Dean don’t...” Sam said louder, fear gripping his gut at the thought of the unknown entity before them.  

Too late, Dean’s hand passed into the tree and through the pulsing red glow. He drew his hand back and something oozing and black had wrapped itself around his wrist, the goo was wet and unpleasant. “What the F-” He began when suddenly Dean was pulled into the glow by some unseen force.  

“DEAN!” Sam leapt to action, rushing after his brother into the weirdly sizeable empty space where a tree’s trunk should have been. Pushing through an invisible force, Sam found himself stumbling into a twisted world of black vines, dark skies and ominous floating atoms of non-descript origin. Frantic, he searched the new space for his brother, ready to strike whatever had pulled him through the vortex.  

Through shouts and grunts of danger, Dean found himself wrapped up in this living vine which slowly tried to wrap itself around his throat. Struggling against the thing, his hand itched for the Swiss army knife in his pocket but if he let go of the vines around his throat, he would surely die. “Get...Off...Of..Me...” He could hear Sam somewhere in the area, though he was unable to see his brother in the darkness. His arms were exhausted already and the vines were tightening hard around his body in other places. If he didn’t make a move now, he was toast.  

“Stay still!” An unfamiliar voice called out as Dean felt the pressure around his legs lessen, his knife pulled from the pocket of his jeans roughly in a way that might have been erotic, given the smallness of the hand, in other circumstances. A flash of blonde hair filled his blurring vision for a moment before the sudden release of pressure from around his neck allowed him to breathe in a harsh and ragged breath. He forced himself to a sitting position ripping the vines from the rest of his body roughly. Dean rose to his feet, winded and aching but distinctly alive. He doubled over with his hands on his own thighs. “Are you ok?” The voice asked from beside him, distinctly feminine.  

“Yeah-” He rasped roughly. “I think so?” As he spoke, Dean lifted his head slowly to see his Saviour. A short and gorgeous blonde lady stared back at him. Not normally one for blonde’s Dean was surprised to find a spark of attraction filled him. Good to know the parts were still working. “Thanks....” He forced out just as another voice rang out close by. “DEAN!” Sam’s lumbering frame came bursting through the trees.

The woman whipped around with her fists up, she was faster than Dean had ever seen a human move before. “Woah woah!!! That’s my brother!” He shouted out. Sam paused in place instantly as a fist stopped inches from his face.  He held his hands up in surrender.

“Who the hell are you guys?” The woman asked. Sam slowly lowered his hands, able to see now that his attacker was in fact a rather slight woman. Blonde hair, it was too dark to see her eyes but he imagined them green or blue.  

“My name’s Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean.... What the hell is this place?” He asked expectantly. The woman appeared to pause in confusion herself.

“You don’t know either?” She said with disappointment ringing. Bringing a hand up, she pushed her hair from her face and Sam could see that she had dirt streaking across her face. “Damn. I’ve been stuck in this Bizzaro world for the last...” She paused. “What time is it?”

Dean reached to see his watch face, letting out a grunt of disgust as the smashed watch face greeted him. “Hell, if I know. Son of a Bitch broke my watch.” Shaking his head, Dean spun to get a better look at their surroundings. Black vines covered every inch of the wood in which they stood. If he squinted, he could swear he could see the outline of the graveyard they had just left behind. He turned back to the woman who had saved him. “Your name is?”  

“Buffy. And you’re welcome.” Buffy replied, turning to face Sam this time. “I know how he got in here, how’d you do it? I’ve been trying to get outta this place for hours and I can’t find the exit.”  

Sam motioned back towards the way he had come, following the vines that had dragged his brother deeper in. “Back there... it sealed itself up though. Not sure but I think this place is.... sentient? It’s like the vines have a mind of their own...”  

“You don’t say.” Dean snarked, rubbing his neck. “It’s weird, does this place look familiar to you Sam?”  

Sam glanced around, eyes settling on the grave marker hidden beneath yet more twisted vines. “It’s the cemetery.... But not. It’s like we’re in a twisted version of our own relm?”  

“And the cookie goes to....” Buffy sarcastically muttered, bringing her hand up, she flipped the knife she had taken from Dean back into her hand and held it out to him, handle facing him. “Be careful, from what I can work out the vines, trees and monsters are all connected. You hurt one, the others will react and since we’ve just ripped a hole in the vegetation saving your ass, I’m gonna say we should get moving before the demon comes back.”

Dean raised a brow. “Demon? We can handle a demon.”  

Buffy raised her own brow in turn, staring Dean in the face. He was arguably quite handsome, arrogant, but not a deal breaker. His brother was too, though the last time she’d seen someone that freakishly tall it had been Riley. Who the hell were these guys? “Look jerk, I’m the goddamn vampire slayer, if I’m telling you we need to move the hell away from here because of a demon, we need to move the hell out of here because of a demon...”  

“Vampire slayer?” Sam sputtered.... “Like Van Helsing vampire slaying?”  

Dean was distinctly less impressed. “Lady we’ve faced way worse than vamps. TRUST ME.” Buffy felt her eyes squint at the idiot. Seemed like the tall one had all the brains.  

“We can compare streams later big guy. Right now, we gotta go.” As if on cue, behind them came a sound unlike any the boys had heard before, a mournful guttural sound which sent chills down the spine. Not only was it scary, it was close. Too close for comfort. Dean swallowed his retort and glanced once more around their surroundings.  

“I think there was an old house that way. Maybe we should mosey in that direction.” Another growl, closer this time. Dean jumped slightly at the sound. “Yeah, I’m thinking we head that way if the entrance we used is blocked up and all...”  

Without waiting on permission, Sam decided to take the lead. Once again, his brother had placed his foot in his mouth and they were stuck in an awkward situation on top of the danger they faced. As he stepped forward, the ground almost seemed to move with him unnaturally. The life that was in those vines filled the air around them and no matter what he did, the hairs on his neck would not go down still. Even the light was wrong here, all black and red and blue, no discernable moonlight.... no stars. It reminded him of hell... Reaching his hand up to brush aside one of the weird floating dust particles, Sam tried not to let the weirdness dull his senses. Behind him he could sense the other two walking cautiously, fully aware that Dean had his finger on the trigger of his gun even without seeing it for himself. Every few moments the sound of another beast could be heard over the otherwise silent land, the slither of something unnatural just beyond the line of sight. Sam found himself reaching into his pocket for a flashlight, turning it on to light the way.  

Behind, Dean kept one eye on the blonde and the other on the place around him. Every so often they passed a marker of something he thought he knew but each time it was twisted and warped, like the evil twin to the earth they knew. After what had to be twenty minutes, Dean allowed himself to speak again. “Look ah, Buffy... Thanks for saving my ass back there....” Buffy almost seemed to snicker. “I’d say don’t get used to it but... it’s kinda what I do.” The brush of the wood seemed to thicken here, meaning the trio had to push aside hanging vines and rotting leaves or else be brushed with their black goo. Buffy pushed aside a particularly large branch and kindly held it so not to smack Dean with it when she let it go. “Just wish I knew how to get us outta this one... I sorta lost my friends back there... In the real world. I ah... I should have known better than to just go chasing demons through portals... Giles’d be so mad...”  

Side stepping another branch that seemed to reach for his foot, Dean was really starting to wish Cas were here to tell them where the hell here was. “Tell me about it. I stuck my hand in a glowing tree. Sounds like a really bad lead up to an Asian porno....”  Finally, the clearing came in to sight, a ramshackle house glowing in the distance. No actual light from inside, no this glow seemed to come from the sky itself. Red like blood and clearly alien.  

“You’re kinda weird Dean, you know that?” Buffy remarked, coming to a stop beside Sam as they faced the house. No movement inside, no demons outside.... seemed about as good a place as any to huddle up until they knew what the hell to do...  

“Kinda? You have no idea...” Sam quipped.  

“Shut up.” Dean responded.  

Before they could even step foot towards the place though, something flew hard at their direction. The creature that had blindsided the trio was tall. Taller than Sam. With human like body and an enormous bulb like head. The face, if you could call it that, was eyeless and nose less but damn if it didn’t have a mouth the size of a sundial. Rows of teeth exposed as it roared in their direction. Dean raised his gun to shoot when from behind the creature he heard a human shout. A smaller figure smashed the hell out of the creature’s head from behind, curly hair flying wild. Behind her stood a group of kids, all armed with baseball bats and weapons entirely not appropriate for demon hunting... apart from the guy holding the bat with the spikes... that was kinda awesome. The creature rounded on the girl and before the Winchesters could react, Buffy’d sprung to action. Leaping onto the demon’s back, she wrapped her arms around its neck and twisted.... hard. The thing went down with an unholy shriek.  

“Holy shit!” Cried the shortest of the kids. “That was AWESOME!” and frankly Dean had to agree.  

“What the hell are you doing here?” Asked the kid with the spiked bat.  

“Do you know how to get outta this place?” Buffy wasted no time asking the hard facts.  

“Ah... Yeah...” The curly haired one pointed towards the house where they could just about make out a weird crack of light on the façade. Beyond confused, the brother’s shot one another a look. The look only siblings could understand.... What the actual hell was going on?  

In the distance, they could make out more figures, clearly adults and one other child, all armed to the teeth... Dean shook his head, vowing he’d stop drinking as soon as they got outta here. “Great.” Buffy began to walk in the direction of the house, clearly over it. “You guys need a hand?” She paused as she passed them. The girl who had first swung at the creature shook her head.  

“You should probably get out of here... It’s gonna get pretty crazy.” As if in response the portal shimmered closed for a moment and then reappeared. “Nice meeting you... Travel safe....” The kid with the curls grinned at them and for a moment Dean could swear he had no teeth... Shaking his head, they started towards the opening.  

“Dean-” Sam hesitated, looking at the group who had just saved them from whatever the hell that thing was. “Don’t.” Dean piped up. “Not our circus, not our monkeys.” And began to walk again. As they passed the adults, there was an awkward moment of eye contact from each party before they fully passed.  

“Will....” He heard another voice say, clearly heading to the group of kids. As they reached the hole in the wall, Buffy turned to them both with a grin.

“Look it’s been swell but no offence, let’s not do this again. Nice meeting you Sam.... Dean.... don’t forget your knife. Also, maybe don’t put it in the pocket closest to your.... ya know what, you do you.” With that she stepped through the portal and was gone. Sam blinked at his brother before they both silently moved through the portal themselves.  

Back in the normal world, they could see the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. In that Horizon, Dean could just about make out the shape of his car. Still silent, the brother’s walked back towards where it all started, as they reached the grave site the familiar shimmer of a spirit taking form started to shape itself. Without blinking, Dean kicked the salt shaker at the edge of the grave into the pit itself and tossed in his lighter. Up in flames and smoke the child ghost went and they picked up their stuff... Putting their gear away, they were about to get in when Sam of all people took a pause... “Dean... What the hell just happened?”  

“Sammy.... I have no goddamn idea.” And with that he slipped into the driver’s seat. Soon they were motoring on towards the rising sun. After another long pause, Dean turned to his brother. “Ya know Sammy, for a moment there I swear to God I thought I heard Winona Ryder.”  

Sam snickered softly. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”  

As they drove on down the road, a sign clearly illuminated in the headlights. ‘Now Leaving Hawkins Indiana. Come back soon!’. And Dean turned back to the open road.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

I’m back on my bullshit and we have GOT TO TALK about 13x08 The Scorpion and the Frog; which serves as a good example of why you should not ONLY watch spn episodes with Cas (partially because of that scene I shamefully blogged about earlier - no I will not link that cursed post here).  The episode title comes from a fable in which the villain is the scorpion.  Interpretations of this fable note its uniqueness lies in the concept that “the scorpion is irrationally self destructive and fully aware of it.”

To quote the scorpion, buddies -�� “it’s in my nature.”

Anyway, this episode is subtextually predicated on exploring Dean Winchester’s nature and specifically - his bisexuality, and I’m not only saying that because it opens with Dean in his Bi Colors Plaid (that also he wore on his burger date with Cas).

Let’s get started, after the cut!

Season 13 on its face gives me absolute whiplash because it starts widow arc-reunion-TOMBSTONE and then Jack yeets himself off to Chuck knows where so Cas can go out Looking For Him Because Otherwise He Will Definitely Kiss Dean there is no other option for the writers at this point.  Sigh.  Here, have another shot of Dean anxiously cleaning his gun as he always does when Cas has Gone Off For Reasons -

Anyway, this feels like a filler episode at first, but as always they bury the ENTIRE damn world in it and I am here with my dossier to Unearth It.

Lets start with Bart (demon of terrible nicknames and microagressions) meeting the brothers at Smile Diner to talk about some spell or whatever. 

(I am not thinking about the Cherry Pie meta I AM NOT)

THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY to start with these lines immediately introducing the theme of duality, a thread throughout this episode.

BARTHAMUS

Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN

Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies.

***MORE DUALITY!  But as we know, Dean does not like Bart because He Is A Freakin’ Demon

DEAN

Well, see, here's the thing. When a demon tells us to jump, we don't ask how high. We just ice their ass.

UMMM excuse me Barting Bacting Boices?  What is that sexual gaze?  

Then we find out that Bart has 1/2 of the spell.  They need the other 1/2.  Oh, a spell with two parts, you say? [ I am going to scream :) ]

***Also, Dean eats the pie Bart ordered.  I cannot begin to explain to you the state of unwellness that I am in regarding how important this is. DEAN NEVER GETS TO EAT THE PIE, remember?  But in This Filler Episode, Dean eats the pie. While Sam looks at him with a very quizzical expression.  Pie -> what Dean wants but never actually gets -> Dean actively eating this pie.  Dean is coming to terms that maybe he can have what he wants.

***I am reminding you again that this is post widower-arc, post-reunion, and especially post-Tombstone.  Anyway-

Now we get to Smash and Grab.  Not literally even though I want to Commit Such Conduct at this point.  We are introduced to two one off characters named 

Smash (human/female presenting) -  can crack any safe built by man 

and Grab (demon/male presenting)-  expert in bypassing supernatural security.

Reaching or no, you can’t disagree that when spn introduces one off characters - it is almost always a Narrative Parallel or Mirror.

So we have a human and a demon (and Dean Winchester, a human who has been a demon)

who are experts in cracking open/bypassing something that has been secured and guarded (breaking down walls, if you will).  

They also use fake names identifying them as Tools to be Used ( Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword/daddys blunt little instrument)

BONUS:

Dean himself is literally used as a tool in this episode.

So yeah.  Smash and Grab are physical representations of Dean’s duality.  Human/Demon.  Femininity/Masculinity.  Dare we say something else, too?

Anyway, Dean is paired with Smash and Grab; Sam is off to idk negotiate weird artifact purchases lawboy style with Luther Shrike, a man who cannot die so long as he never leaves his house (I cannot even begin to unpack this shit; please just sit there and think about it.  I’m not even going there here.  I CANNOT DISCUSS Luther Shrike RN).

Speaking of things I cannot discuss without halgdhsag;lsa - Smash has very Specific boots (a look overall, really).

DEAN

Hey, Winona. The '90s called. They'd like their shoes back. SMASH

Shh.

***That’s right girl - do not take his shit; he actually LOVES them and is therefore Overcompensating for it with this little jab.

***Dean’s pop culture references and particular attention to the details here Should Not Be Overlooked.  90s! Winona! Ryder!

ANYWAY, then Dean and Smash bond over a caffeinated beverage -

[While Dean is doing a spell, Smash opens a can of drink, takes a mouthful and burps loudly. ] SMASH

Ahh. DEAN

You're weird.

***This scene makes me literally insane. (even aside from Dean living on something named NERVE DAMAGE as a KID.  They could have called it anything. You’re saying this wasn’t a Choice)  

She chugs a swallow of the drink and burps.  Something stereotypically associated with masculinity.  Not feminine.  Dean’s reaction is that she is “weird” - because she is not acting in a way stereotypically, J*hn Winchester brain-rot patriarchy bullshit-tily associated with Being Female.  But also, says the stupid show, they like the same soda.  They are The Same.  She shares the soda with Dean.  HIS FACE WHEN SHE DOES -

Other similarities are addressed throughout the episode (they are working for demons because they have no choice; they don’t discuss feelings/emotions, they both sold their soul, they both This Thing - 

DEAN

You know, we could help you. SMASH

No, you can't. I gotta take care of me.

etc. etc.) Smash is absolutely dean-coded.

****Also it’s textually established that Smash thinks Dean is attractive -

GRAB

[looking at Smash] Oh. You said he was just a pretty face. SMASH 

Shh.

***But Grab flirts with him too.

DEAN

I will kill you. GRAB

I bet you say that to all the girls.

***sorry, Grab - you won’t get far with Dean, but only because as he mentioned in the beginning of this episode - 

Drowley rights.

Now Dean has to put his hand in the mouth of this stone lion thing and all of a sudden he is acting....very-not-like-Dean.

[Dean looks again and takes a deep breath.] DEAN

I… how about this? What if I cut myself, put it on, like, a little piece of paper? We'll just wad it up and throw it in the mouth, okay? Okay. 

***Dean Winchester, who has been to Literal HELL, who has been torn apart by hellhounds, who has battled the devil and angels and God’s sister - all at the expense of his own life is now - afraid of spiders.  Well, technically he has always been afraid of spiders, but why isn’t ‘he being performative about it At This Time??

***Come to think of it, this sends me right back to how Jackles was playing Dean in 12x11 Regarding Dean THE episode dissecting Dean’s performative masculinity [one day I will clean up and post that analysis sitting in my drafts like a sad hamster]. That makes sense actually, because -> -> ->

that episode and this one are both written by Meredith Glynn.  Girl get in I want to torture you affectionately with a barrage of questions.

So here we have Dean and he’s not performing for Reasons, and he’s scared he’s genuinely scared of putting his hand in this stone lion-gargoyle-pig-creature’s mouth and then -

Smash gives him a push.

She gives him a push.  I cannot stop thinking about how she gives him a push.  A push to go do this thing that he is scared of; his fear being something he was hiding under his performative masculinity. Smash - dean coded dean mirror who does not perform femininity and is ‘weird’ -  she   gives   him   a     p u s h.

***linking here for the jackting joices that follow.

Now, let’s circle back to Smash’s story; why she is working for Bart in the first place -

SMASH

You think I wanna be here? Like I have a choice? SAM

You made a deal. SMASH

Wow! You think? SAM

You sold your soul. SMASH

And if I could take it back, I would. 

there is no reason for this picture here other than I needed you to see the jackting again

***How does the story end for Smash?

DEAN

Take care of you. [Dean glances down at the box, and then at Smash. She sees that Dean has put a lighter on top of the bones.]  BARTHAMUS

Alice, chop chop! 

[Bart indicates she should get his bones]. SMASH

Yeah. [She grabs the lighter and sets Bart's bones alight. Bart screams as he bursts into flames. ] 

***She accepts help and breaks free from the narrative, literally burning it down. The female presenting but not female-performing “weird” ooc representing a side of Dean breaks FREE because she makes a choice.  The lighter Dean drops? It’s a push.  And she goes with it.

Alice reclaims her story.

(Also, Grab gets ganked.  The male presenting ooc; the performative masculinity side; the demon; the darkness; the not-humanity - gets ganked).

Guess what Dean says to Alice when they say goodbye?

DEAN

Hey, Alice. Stay weird.

[I know the peace sign is probably just a Charlie throwback but I’d still like to say duality.  Two. ]

Dean’s not just talking to Alice.  He’s talking to himself; because the walls have been breached and for once Dean isn’t as scared of being different.  Maybe, just maybe, he’s going along with the push.  That’s exactly how the episode ends - with Dean feeling a little more hopeful, a little more at peace; a little more Considering he is capable of not only loving Cas but also not hating himself for it. 

[until the knowledge that Mary is still alive and the guilt of allowing himself ANY happy thoughts instead of looking for her miserably rears its ugly head in 13x09 and round and round we go but for NOW at least -> ]

DEAN

I'll drink to that.

(oh look Dean is just wearing his henley.  It’s almost as if a layer has been peeled back).

tagging @im-shaking-like-milk​ and @deanwasalwaysbi​ for letting me ramble on to them while writing this; and @lilac-void​ because you are always so kind about my stuff :)

[winchester-fantasies]

Be Mine

Summary: Sam and Dean agree to help Garth out with a case. They’re both surprised when he introduces them to his younger sister, and Dean is instantly drawn to her.

Word Count: 3368

Warnings: smut, fluff, shy reader, virgin reader, crack (or at least attempted lol), age gap, some swearing, Dean’s POV

Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader

A/N: This was written as a request for @prettysourabbie : Hey beautiful I know you’re not taking requests right this second but this bop of idea came to my mind and you’re writing is awesome! Can I request dean x plus size Garth younger sister reader where dean and Sam meet up with Garth on a case and that’s where dean meets her, she is super quirky and dorky and dean starts getting feelings but she a virgin? Smut, fluff , goofy ness haha sorry if this sounds super awkward turtle haha you’re a bop of a writer!! 💕❤️😊😆 Thanks for you request, pretty lady!! I’m sorry it took me so long to write this one, so thank you for being so patient!! I hope you like it! ❤❤

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

“Hey, Garth,” Sam said, his deep voice breaking through the silence. 

Dean glanced up from the book that was open in front of him, watching as his younger brother’s brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the other hunter. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sam said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “We’ll be there. See you soon.”

Dean sent his brother a questioning look as he hung up, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Garth has a case,” Sam said. “Vamp nest. Needs backup.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Dean said, closing the book. He was more than happy to get out. He and Sam had been cooped up in the bunker since they’d come back from their last hunt and Dean desperately needed some new scenery away from endless research.

“Get your stuff, and I’ll meet you in the Impala,” Dean said, scooting back from the table and grabbing Baby’s keys off the tabletop.

**********

A few hours later found the boys entering the small town of Fredericksburg, Texas. Dean drove down Main Street slowly, taking in the tiny shops and quaint storefronts. “Where did Garth say to meet him?” Dean asked, leaning forward slightly to gain a better view of his surroundings.

“Uh,” Sam said, taking out his phone and pulling up his texts. “A diner on the corner of Main Street.”

“Well, that’s freakin’ helpful,” Dean huffed out but soon slowed down as the diner came into view, neon sign advertising the best pancakes in all of Texas. 

They alighted from the car, taking a quick look around before making their way to the entrance. A small bell tinkled as they entered, and a busty, red-haired woman greeted them both with a toothy grin. 

“Sam! Dean!” Garth’s unmistakable voice called out from behind them.

Both of the boys turned to find Garth in a booth in the back of the diner. Sam raised his hand in a quick wave before they made their way over. 

“Hey, guys,” Garth said, sliding out of the booth and giving each of them his famous hug. “How’s it been?”

“Uh, been good,” Sam said, slipping into the booth in front of Garth, Dean joining him. Garth was about to say something when footsteps drew near the table, causing all three men to look up. 

It was a young woman, cheeks slightly flushed and eyes cast down shyly. “Sam, Dean,” Garth said, once more sliding out of the booth. “I’d like you to meet my sister, (Y/N),” he continued, throwing an arm around her shoulders. 

“Your...your sister?” Sam asked incredulously. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yep,” Garth said proudly, looking down at her affectionately. “Been my sister my entire life.”

“Hi,” she said, smiling at both Sam and Dean.

Dean couldn’t keep his eyes from traveling her entire length. She looked to be several years younger than Garth and the total opposite of the lanky man. But she was beautiful, with her thick thighs, hourglass figure, and supple breasts. She was the epitome of what Dean had always imagined a woman to be, and he couldn’t not let his eyes wander just a little.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Garth sliding back into the booth with (Y/N) following close behind. Before any of them could continue speaking the red-haired woman from the front sauntered up to their booth, whipping out a small notepad. “What can I get for y’all?” she asked. 

They ordered before Sam and Dean turned their attention back to Garth. “So we’re dealing with a vamp nest?” Sam asked. 

“Oh, yeah,” Garth said, eyes wide and mouth set in a thin line. 

“Biggest one Garth’s ever seen,” (Y/N) added, face just as serious. 

Garth nodded his agreement. “It’s just outside of town in an old barn,” he said. “Me and (Y/N) scoped it out a few days ago. There’s no way just the two of us could’ve handled the whole nest.”

“Well, I’m glad you called us,” Sam said. “More than happy to help.”

Dean nodded, smirking as (Y/N) met his gaze. Her cheeks immediately turned pink and she glanced to her lap. He’d never seen another woman blush as much as her, but goddamn if it wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

**********

The day passed quickly with Sam and Dean helping Garth and his sister get ready for the hunt the next morning. Dean had made sure to sit by (Y/N) as much as he could and whenever he couldn’t he’d made a point to ask her questions about the case. Although she wasn’t as talkative as her older brother, Dean soon realized she was knowledgeable, being able to tell him information off the top of her head faster than most hunters twice her age and with more experience under their belts. She was nerdy by every definition of the word, but Dean couldn’t help but admire that about her. Not to mention it was sexy as hell. 

By the time evening rolled around everyone was exhausted and ready for some much needed relaxation. Garth and his sister spent most of the night in the boys’ room, drinking and swapping hunting stories.

 “That’s why you don’t get out of the salt circle, sweetheart,” Dean mocked good-naturedly when (Y/N) recounted her and her brother’s most recent and worst encounter with a vengeful spirit they’d ever experienced.

“Oh, shut up!” she yelled. Dean flinched when she raised her hand and swatted his shoulder, but they both burst into laughter a second later.

(Y/N) was still laughing when she got up from the floor where she and Dean were seated in front of the coffee table. “I think I need another drink,” she said. Her foot caught the edge of the table leg as she started around it and she fell face first to the floor with a heavy thud.

 “Oh, my gosh! (Y/N), are you okay?” Garth exclaimed.

Dean moved quickly to her side, leaning over her when she finally turned, a worried expression in his green eyes. She cracked up once again, rolling onto her back. Dean followed suit once he realized she wasn’t hurt, both of them laughing so hard their bodies shook. Dean lost control and fell to the floor beside her, the back of his head resting on her outstretched arm.

(Y/N) covered her eyes with her other hand as tears rolled down her face. “Why is everything so funny?” she gasped between her laughter.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Dean wheezed. “But maybe you’d better rethink that drink.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” she said as another fit of laughter assaulted them both.

She and Dean sat up as they finally caught their breaths. Sam and Garth sat on the couch staring at her and Dean as if they had both lost their minds.

“Fuck, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” Dean said, wiping away a tear at the corner of his eye.

“Neither have I,” (Y/N) confessed. She gripped her stomach. “But I’m definitely gonna have a six pack by morning!”

Dean chuckled as he rose from the floor and helped her up. She yawned once they were both on their feet again. “I’m tired now,” she chuckled. “I think we’d better head to bed.”

“Yeah, us, too,” Dean said as Garth rose from the couch and came to stand beside his sister. Sam stood, too, and came to Dean’s side as everyone said their good nights, Dean staring out the door a few seconds longer than he probably should have, staring after her and her swaying hips.

**********

Dean was entranced as he watched her move with almost uncanny agility, her movements fluid and almost graceful. She swung her blade with solid accuracy, taking down two vamps in a matter of seconds. She had a mind for the research part of hunting, but she was just as good a hunter in the midst of battle.

She might have been shy, but she had a fire in her that burned brighter than any sun ever could, and Dean found himself being drawn to her even more. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at her in the back seat where her and Garth sat as they headed back to the motel after the hunt. She looked out the window, staring off into space, grimacing every once in a while, her hand holding a handkerchief against the wound on her arm from when one of the vamps had shoved her to the ground that had been littered with broken glass. But she was stoic and a total badass. Dean had to give her that. 

Garth and (Y/N) went to their room to patch themselves up as Sam and Dean did the same. It wasn’t too long before Garth came to their room. “I’m gonna go get something to eat,” Garth said. “(Y/N)’s pretty weak after all that. You guys want anything?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sam answered for the both of them. “I’ll go with you. See you in a bit,” he told Dean as he threw on his coat and grabbed his phone.

Dean sent his brother a small smile as he stepped outside with Garth, shutting the door behind them. Dean turned back to the laptop in front of him, following up on a few things regarding the nest and looking for any potential cases. Dean soon lost track of time and it wasn’t until he looked at his watch that he realized just how late it really was. 

He glanced to the door thoughtfully before pushing back from the table and exiting the room. He turned down the sidewalk that led to Garth and (Y/N)’s room. Maybe he was being too worried, but he wanted to check in on her; make sure she had everything she needed.

He stopped at the door to their room, raising his hand but pausing for a moment before he knocked. It was a few minutes before he heard the deadbolt turn and the chain being removed from the door. It opened, revealing (Y/N) in a tank top and pajama shorts, hair piled on top of her head. “Oh,” she said in surprise. “Hi, Dean. I thought you were Garth.”

Dean chuckled before silence fell between them. Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels as he contemplated just what to say. “I, uh, I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Dean finally said.

“Oh, thanks,” she said. “You, um, you wanna come in?” she asked, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

Dean smiled and stepped through the door. He watched her walk back to the bed by the wall, climbing in and sitting cross-legged. Books were spread out in front of her, each one presenting some monster, myth, or creature that most hunters knew very little about - well, except for Sam and Dean; they had encountered nearly every monster a hunter could.

Dean let out a low whistle as he walked over to join her, (Y/N) moving over enough so that he could sit beside her. “These all yours?” he asked, gesturing to the books. 

“Yep,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know how nerdy it is,” she added with a chuckle. “I just...well, I guess I just love research.”

Dean smiled. “Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart,” he reassured. “In fact,” he continued, scooting a bit closer to her, their hips touching. “I think it’s incredibly hot.”

Dean saw her swallow, her eyes wide as she searched his face. “R...really?” she asked. 

“Mhm,” Dean hummed, leaning towards her slowly. She still looked a bit shaken, but she didn’t move away which Dean took as a good sign. He paused when his face was just inches from hers, lips so close he could feel her breath on his mouth. She closed her eyes and he took that as his cue, closing the distance.

It took her only seconds to really respond, kissing him back firmly. Dean snuck an arm around her waist while he raised a hand to cup her cheek. 

The kiss ended all too soon for his liking, but his breath hitched when he saw a smile on her face. “That...that was unexpected,” she said with a soft giggle. “But nice.”

“I’d like to do it again,” Dean admitted. “If you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” she said almost shyly, her hand reaching for the back of his neck and initiating the kiss this time. Dean leaned into her, hands falling to her waist as he gently lowered her to the bed, his knee slotted between her legs as he held himself over her. 

He slid his tongue over her lower lip, and it didn’t take long for her to open up to him. She tasted like coffee and...was that cinnamon? Whatever it was, he couldn’t get enough. 

She shifted slightly, her hip pressing into his growing cock, and he couldn’t help but break the kiss with a low groan, his eyes falling shut for a fraction of a second. “Sweetheart, I need you to tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he said breathlessly. “Because if we continue I don’t know that I’ll be able to help myself.”

Dean opened his eyes to find her staring up at him, blush on her cheeks and her eyes swimming with remorse. “Wh...what’s wrong?” Dean asked hesitantly. “I’m...I’m not making you uncomfortable am I?”

“No!” she hurried to reassure when Dean moved to roll away from her. “No, it’s not that….”

“Then what?” Dean asked gently, brushing a stray strand of hair off her brow. 

“It’s just...well, I’m a virgin,” she said quietly, her cheeks turning even redder and her eyes casting down. 

“Oh…” Dean said, realization dawning on him. He could’ve kicked himself for asking something of her that he just assumed she had experience in. “I’m so sorry,” Dean said, disengaging himself from her side and climbing off the bed. 

“Wh...where are you going?” she asked in confusion, propping herself up on her elbows. 

“Look, (Y/N),” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really like you. Like a lot. And I want you - probably more than I should. But...sweetheart, I can’t take something that’s not mine to take. Besides, you wouldn’t want someone as old as me.”

She didn’t respond, instead climbing off the bed and coming to stand in front of him. “Dean,” she said softly, raising her hand to run her fingers along his jawline. “You’re not old. I mean, yes, you’re quite a bit older than me, but we’re both adults. Besides, you look pretty good for an old guy,” she teased, drawing a frown from Dean.

She sobered again, her fingers playing with the buttons on his flannel. “Plus it’s not really your place to tell me what I want,” she said. “It’s mine to decide who I give it to. And Dean, I want you to be my first. I like you, too, like a lot. And as stupid and cliche as it sounds, I’m drawn to you in a way I can’t explain.”

She stood on tiptoe, raising herself up till her face was parallel with his. She paused right before her lips met his. “Please,” she whispered against his mouth. 

That was all it took and before Dean could register what was happening they were on the bed, clothes discarded and strewn around the room. She was sprawled out underneath him, her soft skin and plush body tantalizing under his fingertips. 

He kissed her with wild abandon, getting lost in the feel and softness of her mouth. He could’ve stayed there forever, just kissing his life away, but a roll of her hips reminded him of his almost unbearable need, and he broke the kiss to climb off her to rifle through his wallet for a condom. 

He tore open the packet, taking it out and sliding it over his length with trembling fingers before hurrying back to her, climbing over her beautiful body. He reached down between her legs, his fingers running over her core. Her folds were wet, slick coating the insides of her thighs. She was more than ready for him, but he couldn’t resist rubbing her bundle of nerves. Her head shot back, and she shut her eyes as a moan filled the air and she gripped the sheets. She was beautiful when she let go like this, and Dean continued his ministrations, intent on drawing more of those alluring sounds from her that made his cock twitch in desire.

She was beyond responsive to him and it was only moments before she came, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream, body quivering, and legs closing around his hand as the pleasure became too much. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum,” Dean murmured as he disengaged his hand from between her thighs, crawling up her body to settle between her spread legs.

Her skin was sweaty, cheeks flushed, and eyes glowing from her high. She laughed breathlessly before leaning up to kiss him. “You sure you want this?” Dean asked softly.

She nodded, biting her lip. He groaned at the sight before turning his gaze to between their bodies as he began to push into her. She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed at the first hints of discomfort. “Hey,” Dean whispered, her eyes snapping open to meet his. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She nodded before he kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth to distract her as he continued his course, pausing every few seconds to allow her walls to accommodate him. He finally pulled away from the kiss as he bottomed out, teeth sinking into his lower lip. She was beyond tight, squeezing him so hard he had to take several deep breaths to keep himself from cumming right then and there.

“You ready for me to move?” Dean asked once he’d composed himself. A nod was his only answer so he pulled out almost all the way before plunging back in, setting a steady and slow pace. She hummed at the feeling, hands flying to his shoulders. 

Dean buried his face into the side of her neck, kissing her before sucking small hickeys into her skin. He didn’t care who saw. He wanted everyone to know she was his. 

It wasn’t long before he felt his muscles tighten, and he could tell he was right on the precipice of release. He reached between their bodies, fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing back and forth furiously, determined to make her cum before him. 

“Dean…” she whimpered, fingers digging into his skin. 

“C’mon, babygirl,” Dean grit out as her walls started to flutter. “Cum for me.”

She came seconds later, his name tumbling from her mouth in broken staccato. He helped her ride out her orgasm, his own coming shortly after. 

He pulled out once his heartbeat began to slow, and he fell to the other side of the bed. He glanced over at her, damp hair plastered to her face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. 

“(Y/N),” he said quietly, running his knuckles over her thigh. She turned her head to look at him, a contented smile on her plump lips. He swallowed, fighting the urge to get lost in her again. This was something he needed to get out. “Listen, I know we just met and all, but…. I don’t want this to be the last time this happens….”

She grinned, rolling to her side, her hand coming to cradle her head as she propped herself up on her elbow. “Neither do I,” she admitted. “I wanted my first time to be with someone I trusted and who I really liked.”

Dean smiled, turning over to face her. “So does that mean you’ll be mine?” he asked hopefully, hand falling to her bare hip. 

She smiled softly, moving closer to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤️❤️

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[writingfromkitchenator]

Castiel ~ Tomorrow

Alphabet Challenge Masterlist (700 Followers)

Masterlist

Sequel to Inebriated

Thank you so much to @zizzlekwum and @casismybae for the sequel request!

Words: 1,532

Warnings: Neutral Reader, hangover, awkward fluff, little bit of swearing

Things were foggy when you awoke, and it took you a long moment to actually make any sort of movement in your bed, not really remembering getting into one.

Your mouth felt like you’d swallowed cotton, so with an uncomfortable groan, you managed to move and get a glass of water from your bedside table.  Taking several long drinks, you did your best to ignore the low throb that was starting in your head, truly regretting drinking as much as you had.

Putting the glass down, you sighed, sitting up as best you could, rubbing your head, more aches settling over you as you moved more.  What the hell did you do to cause that?

You frowned, thinking, no matter how much it made your head hurt.  You were at the bar for ages, drinking away your misery, before wanting better quality stuff, so you’d decided to raid Sam and Dean’s liquor cabinet.

The bunker was supposed to be empty…

Tension shot up your spine as you remembered Castiel being here, the exact reason why you’d been drinking in the first place.  A heavy groan left you as jumbled words came back to you, remembering what you’d said, but not what he’d said in return.

You stared at your door. You were going to have to go out there and talk to him, no matter how much it currently made you feel sick to your stomach.

God, you’d really fucked this one up.

Your head gave a nasty throb, making you groan, holding it for a moment until you dug around in your bedside table, hoping to find any sort of tablet or something to help with the pain.  When you came up empty, you cursed quietly, knowing you were going to have to see Castiel like this.

Which was even worse than what it was already.

Steeling yourself, you managed to get up and make your way to the door, drawing in a deep breath, before you hobbled out, staggering just a little.  You felt sick for a moment, but it passed, and you managed to make your way to the kitchen, where you only just realised that there was a delicious smell coming from.

“Morning Y/N,” Castiel said, not looking over from the stove where he was cooking something.  “How are you feeling?”

You stared at him a long moment, it taking a little bit for you to realise what was strange about this situation.  “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He cast a smile back at you. “I’ve had to learn a few things over the years.  I…I’m not the best cook, but it’s enough to get by.  I hope you like it still.”

“You…you made breakfast for me?”  You asked, a little confused, making your way over to one of the cabinets, rifling through it until you found the drugs you were looking for.

There was silence for a moment as you grabbed a glass of water, something you almost dropped when you turned to look at him and found him right there in front of you.  “Cas-”

Castiel sighed a little and shook his head with a surprisingly affectionate smile.  “Here.”  He rested a hand on your forehead, chasing away the hangover and the aching in your body, letting you give a soft sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” You said, putting the tablet back in the container, but still holding onto the water. “Although, I…can’t exactly remember where all the bruising and pain came from.”

He turned back to the stove. “You fell down the stairs.”

“I…what?”

“It did sound rather painful,” He said, taking the pan off the heat.  “But you assured me you were okay.”  He hesitated and cast you a look.  “Do you…not remember last night?”

Heat flared in your cheeks and you quickly broke away from his gaze, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “Um…some of it?  I…I remember…what I said…but not-not what-what-if you said anything back.”

Castiel gave a thoughtful hum and dishes the food onto a plate for you.  “Have some breakfast Y/N.”

You stared at it before taking it and heading to the table, a little unsure.  “Cas…”

“Have some food and then we can talk.”

It seemed so unusually out of character for him that you simply did as he asked, not really sure what else to do, and a little too embarrassed to raise it yourself.

The food he’d made was good, a big relief to your rumbling stomach, and it was kind of an awkward silence that filled the room as he cleaned up and you ate.

Eventually, Castiel sat down across from you, watching you eat.

“Um,” You kept your gaze on your food.  “Thanks Cas, this is really good.”

He smiled.  “I figured you would be hungry.  You had consumed a fair amount of alcohol last night.”

You sighed and finished the meal off before looking at him, clearly embarrassed.  “I figured.  I’m sorry I made such an idiot of myself.”

Castiel chuckled and gave a small shrug.  “You are an adorable idiot.  You have nothing to apologise for.”

“An adorable…Cas,” You frowned at him.  “What exactly happened last night?”

“You called me a trench coated idiot,” He said with a smile.  “And then yourself a drunken idiot.  That was after you told me you loved me of course.”

There was little point in breaking away from his gaze again, no matter how hot your face burned at the mere mention of it.  “And…what did you say?”

“That we needed to talk when you were sober,” He said gently.  “And definitely without Sam and Dean here, which, luckily, we have both right now, if you still wish to do so of course?”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you held his gaze.  “I…do.”

“Good,” Castiel said with a nod.  “Then perhaps now is the time to tell you that I return your feelings?”

You stared at him, having not expected this at all, and you honestly had no idea how to respond to it, in fact, you weren’t even sure what to think, your brain having short circuited when he said it.

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, a little unsure by your reaction.  “Um, Y/N?  Are you alright?”

“I-I-” You stammered for a moment before shaking your head.  “I am feeling incredibly foolish here.  Not once did I ever actually consider that the feelings would be returned.”

He smiled.  “Well, they are, and…have been for a while.  You would not have known if I had it my way, the danger to you after all is very high, but…after last night, it would be very cruel of me not to.  I love you Y/N, and I hope that we can face whatever comes together.”

“You really mean it,” You breathed, still so unsure, and yet you could feel it in your heart and the honesty in his gaze that he was speaking in the truth.  “I really am an idiot.”

Castiel chuckled and took your hand across the table.  “I think both of us are.  I certainly never wanted to be the cause behind your drinking.  I’m not going to lie, I was very worried seeing you like that. I certainly don’t want to be the cause of any of your pain Y/N.”

“Oh Cas, you never could be,” You said, giving his hand a squeeze.  “That…well, that was my own insecurities coming to light.  I’ve never had to deal with an emotion like that before, let alone for someone close to me, and I had no idea what to do about it, so I…did what most hunters do I guess.  Drink away their problems.”  You chuckled softly.  “For once, I guess, it’s worked in my favour.”

“It has,” Castiel nodded. “But I still feel partly responsible.”

You shook your head and stood, moving around to him.  “Castiel, you have far too much on your shoulders already, don’t let me add to it too. I never want to put that on you.”

He stood and took your hands again, holding your gaze.  “You don’t, I do it because I care.”  One hand came up and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing gently over your skin. “Just like I worry what all this could bring on you.  I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

You rested your hand against his.  “You could never be a burden Cas, I promise.”

The two of you stared at each other, both certain but unsure, and as Castiel went to speak again, they were interrupted by a door closing somewhere in the bunker.

“Cas?  We managed to wrap up early, are you around?”  Dean called.

You sighed, breaking away from his gaze as you could hear footsteps approaching, but Castiel caught your chin, bringing you gaze back to his before he gently kissed your forehead.

“We will talk more tomorrow,” He said softly.  “Away from here.”

You smiled warmly and kissed his cheek, making him turn red.  “Tomorrow then, and not a moment later.”

The two of you smiled at each other and stepped apart just as Sam and Dean walked into the room, none the wiser to what was happening between the two of you.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

4, 11, or 42 with destiel? I'm thinking intently about Them

Okay so here’s the thing.

I thought, “oh wow 4 (An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose) will be so interesting!!! I’ve got the perfect scene in mind!!

Wait. Wait I kind of want to establish what sort of mindset Dean is in for this to happen. Okay, let me establish the scene and the mindset. Well, I don’t wanna vaguely reference this thing so let me just—

15k later here is your accidental brush of the lips followed by a pause and going back for another. If you well and truly do not want to read this whole thing (and I shan’t blame you) if you skip to the second line break, you’ll have the scene. Like, it probably could have stood on its own but this happened.

Read it On AO3 (or skip to the good stuff undercut)

50 Kisses Prompt List ��💕

The motel room was quiet. Dean was grateful to be miles away from Florida. The Midwest roads were more familiar. Baby took every inch of road greedily, happily, without cars burning rubber all around her. Steepling his hands on the table in front of him, Dean felt his leg bounce with anxious energy. The small, clay dolphin stared back at him with beady eyes.

He looked up when the bathroom door opened, Cas stepping out without a word. His freshly washed hair clung to his skin. The wound on his shoulder was bright red and raw, but healing. Dean pressed his lips together.

“I can patch that for you.” He nodded to Cas’ shoulder. It was probably the first thing Dean had said to Cas directly ever since they had left Marissa’s apartment two days ago.

Cas paused in his trek toward the bed that held his duffle bag and a sleeping Jack. He inhaled slowly, grabbing the bandages before moving to sit at the table beside Dean. Their knees were a hair’s breadth from knocking against one another. Wordlessly, he handed Dean the gauze and ointment before shifting to place his shoulder between them.

Dean took the ointment, squelching some of it into his palm. He exhaled shakily, slathering it gently over Cas’ wound. Cas barely winced and yet the muscle of his arm felt tense beneath Dean’s hand.

When Dean began to wrap his shoulder, Cas spoke. “Dean,” he called in that gentle, charged way of his. He didn’t continue until Dean could tear his gaze away from the angry wound, look into those blue eyes. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Dean pushed, reaching for the scissors so that he could cut and secure the wrap. “That’s what we do. Save people. Hunt things.”

“Dean,” Cas whispered, putting his hand to Dean’s wrist and halting his movements. “You saved my life. Jack’s life.” He sighed. “I don’t care that you think this a thankless occupation. I thank you.”

“Cas,” his name felt ripped from Dean’s throat. It felt desperate. Just as desperate as he had felt in that fucking dungeon months ago. A lifetime ago. Where Dean was speechless but begging Cas not to go. Not to say that. Not to bring them both past the point of no return by acknowledging this.

But it was there. The elephant was named. It was stampeding in Dean’s chest and rioting. Thundering and booming in his ears and sending lightning through his veins. They were here and Dean couldn’t ignore it. Or he could—he could—but he had been ignoring it. Ignoring it by pretending it didn’t mean anything. By saying that there was no elephant and thinking that Cas would just be here.

Cas’ gaze flickered over Dean’s face like a waning candle. He was looking for something. Dean wished he knew what the hell Cas was searching for. He would give it to him. He’d give Cas anything he wanted—

He knew what Cas wanted. Cas fucking told him what he wanted.

Whatever he was searching for, he didn’t find. Or maybe he found what he was expecting. Nothing new. Nothing new from Dean who just refused to acknowledge his best friend’s love confession. His dying love confession.

“We appreciate it, Dean.” He said finally. “Not only all the people you save, but Jack and I. We appreciate you, Dean.”

“I know how you feel, Cas.” Dean spoke sharply, perhaps a bit callously. Cas didn’t flinch though. He looked goddamn resigned.

Cas sighed, “I know you do.” He smiled sadly. An echo of that night. “I told you.” Looking at his hands in his lap, Cas huffed a laugh under his breath. He pulled his shoulder away from Dean, straightening in his seat. “Regardless, you know what I think of you. You know that I…”

Dean swallowed heavily. “Yeah, Cas. I know.” Dean reached for the supplies on the table, fingers attempting to catch the gauze tape in his grip. Instead, the tape rolled, threatening to fall off the table’s edge. Dean reached forward thoughtlessly, not realizing he was leaning into Cas’ space until he was there and then—

Soft.

Cas’ lips were soft even with a barely-there brush of their lips. Dean pulled back, the tape forgotten as it clattered to the floor. Quiet enough that it didn’t wake a sleeping Jack, but loud in Dean’s ears. Cas looked at Dean with wide eyes, crystal blue attempting to peer into Dean’s soul.

Dean rested his palm on the table, his forearm brushing against Cas’ bare skin. Inhaling sharply, Dean leaned in again, this time with purpose, tilting his head and brushing his nose along Cas’ cheek.

A sharp inhale from Cas as his eyes fluttered shut. Dean could almost feel it against his own eyes. Something like a butterfly kiss. Parting his lips slowly, Dean tilted his chin until he could feel Cas’ lips beneath his again. Dean’s lips pressed into a firm line, a reassuring pressure against Cas. Cas gasped, shuttering and opening his mouth for Dean to press in deeper.

Taking the plunge, Dean held Cas’ face in his hands, fingers clutching at Cas’ cheeks as Cas, in turn, grasped at his wrists and held him in place. Dean returned Cas’ gasp, inhaling the breath from Cas’ mouth. He could feel his mouth quiver and his body shake where he held himself against Cas.

When they pulled apart—however long it was—Dean held his forehead to Cas’. A lump formed in his throat, closing off his attempt at words. “Cas—”

The pad of Cas’ right thumb swiped at Dean’s cheek, taking him by surprise. He sucked in a shaking breath, opening his eyes to watch as Cas gently swabbed at his cheek. Those damnable tears—the tears Dean couldn’t get out of his head for months—were present in Cas’ eyes. They made his gaze look like an ethereal, shimmering pool.

Dean had seen those tears every time he closed his eyes. Every nightmare he had. But in all of that terror he had experienced in that moment, he had forgotten what Cas was saying. That Cas said he was happy. That the Empty—the Shadow—whatever the hell it was—only took Cas when he was happy.

And now here he was. Happy. Happy enough to cry about it, but without the looming threat of a deal or a god or anything that could take him away from Dean.

“You can’t leave,” Dean whispered, voice scraping a raw path up his throat. “You can’t, Cas. I won’t survive it again.”

“I swear that I will never willingly leave your side,” Cas sighed, fluttering his eyes shut and leaning to press another sweet and slow kiss to Dean’s lips. When he drew back, Dean felt life breathe back into him again. Inhaled it, gobbled it, choked on it until his tears came anew. “I promise, Dean.”

Dean choked on a wet laugh, stealing another soft kiss that Cas was there and offering. “I want you to stay.” He whispered his confession into Cas’ mouth, opening the kiss further, deepening it further. Tame, but reaching. “Please stay.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” Cas sighed, fingers raking through the short hairs against Dean’s neck with one hand and his right hand clutching in an achingly familiar way against Dean’s shoulder. Dean steadied himself by gripping at Cas’ waist, holding him to the edge of his seat and meeting him halfway.

“God, I love you,” Dean laughed, ducking his head and peering at Cas from beneath his lashes. “I love you.” He said again. Because he could. Because he could stare at this elephant and call it by its name, parade it about and drape it in bright colors with pride.

Cas smiled and it reached his eyes. Dried up his happy tears and flashed his gums. “I know,” he spoke in that gentle rasp of his, like the purr of Baby’s engine.

Dean laughed again, quiet and mindful of Jack. “Oh, you’re such a bastard,” he swallowed Cas’ low chuckle, felt it in his chest, and hungrily asked for more. Cas hummed into his open mouth, a satisfied noise that Dean hoped to hear every day for the rest of his goddamn life.

Ramble On drew them away, Dean’s phone lighting up on the table and alerting him to a call. He sighed, pressed a tight-lipped kiss to the corner of Cas’ mouth for good measure before answering his phone.

“Hey, Sammy.” He rasped, his voice low and gravel-filled. Dean cleared his throat between his words and Sam’s.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Sam asked softly, his little brother’s concern near palpable.

Dean cleared his throat again for good measure, flickering his gaze to Cas. “Nah, I was up. What’s up?”

Sam gave a relieved-sounding sigh. “Finally finished the leg up to the rendezvous. Garth was pretty excited. I think it’s going to work out.”

Leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, Dean ran a hand over his face. “Good. That’s good,” he answered, and he meant it. He felt fingers intertwine with his own and looked to Cas in surprise. Almost naturally, Dean squeezed his grip on Cas’ hand.

“Marissa’s walking better,” Sam informed Dean. “Alpha healing worked out pretty well. Sometimes I forget how good of a shot you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean huffed, but couldn’t keep his lips from quirking into a smile.

Sam laughed on the other end of the line and Dean could imagine his eyes crinkling with that puppy dog look of his. “Nothing, old man,” he said affectionately. "D’you guys wanna meet up in Sioux Falls? We could visit Jody and the girls.”

“Sounds good to me,” letting out a sigh, Dean turned to face Cas fully. “Claire and Jack can catch up. I’m sure you and the book club have got a new chapter to gush over.”

Dean could see Sam’s rolling eyes at the remark, but Sam let it slide. “And what are you gonna do?”

Dean grinned, pulling Cas’ hand up to his face, just pressing his lips on Cas’ knuckles for a moment. “I could go for a midnight cruise.”

Cas’ eyes sparked, smile warming like caramel under the soft motel lights. He squeezed Dean’s hand in return.

“Alright. I’m checking into a motel for the night. I’ll call you guys in the morning when I’m on the road.”

“See ya then,” Dean signed off, removing the phone from his ear to hang up. He swiped the red button before turning to face Cas. “I know you and the kid usually share a bed but—” he started.

Cas chuckled under his breath. “I think I might be persuaded.” He teased, dominating eyebrow arching on his forehead in silent challenge.

“I can be very persuasive,” Dean retorted, leaning again to press another soft, earth-shattering kiss to the lips of an angel.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Soulless

Warnings: mild angst, soullessness, deals, implied sex, mentions of sex, fluffy ending, long fic.

Word Count: 2733

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Set: Season 7-ish

Summary: Dean isn’t great when it comes to telling people how he feels. So, he can’t even tell the Reader he loves her. He tries to forget, by dating other girls. Bringing home one girl, the Reader isn’t too happy.

Masterlist

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a/n: I’m kind of going through something rough at the moment, after messaging a friend how he’s doing, and that we should get together, message or talk some time. And I haven’t heard a thing. Ever since he’s been in a relationship he’s been distant. And that leaves me with, no friends really. So this fic spawned from that.

~

Y/N entered Bobby’s house after she came back from a simple salt and burn case.

Her heart always skipped a beat when she saw Dean. Ever since she tagged with them after a hunt in Nebraska, she’s grown close to the older Winchester. An unbreakable friendship grew into something more, or so it seemed like for her. But this time, Dean had another lady by his side. A pretty blond girl.

The he held her close to his side, protective, sweet. She could read that he cared for her, this ditzy blond. The guys laughed, must have been in the middle of a conversation when she walked in and seen Dean kiss this girl on the cheek.

Y/N can feel her heart pounding hard in her chest, wanting to break out and explode for the whole room to see.

Just stay strong, don’t cry. Just your luck he doesn’t like you the way you like him. She thought.

Her luck with guys was never great. She always wanted something with her guy friends that she’d develop feelings for. But, they always turned her down, leaving her alone in the dust.

She clears her throat. Sam, Dean, Bobby and blondie all turned to see her.

“Ah, there she is.” Bobby says. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“Smooth as always, got another one for me.” She says. Her throat holding back any sobs that were threatening to surface.

This is harder than it looks. She thought.

“Actually, things are pretty quiet for now, but you said you were wanting to work on that mustang in the garage.” He said, he could see her hurting. He knew she hated Fords, give her a reason to smash it to bits.

“That’s right, I’ll be in the garage.” She says. Turning to head out, duffle still in hand.

She didn’t realize she was fast walking, her heart rate was stammering, and pounding hard in her chest harder than it did in the house. She needed to smash something, break something.

Behind the garage was an old ’65 Mustang Fast Back, barley recognizable, she’d use it as a punching bag so to speak. Her sledgehammer still sitting next to the wall, she picks it up hastily and begins whaling on the car.

-

It was dark out when her body gave out from slamming the hammer on the car all day long.

She sat on the ground facing the car, knees up to her chest.

“Face it, you won’t ever have the courage to tell guys how you feel.” She tells herself. She always talked to herself, it always helped with formalizing her thoughts. But when one of her greatest demons surfaces, it too uses her voice to get to her.

“She’s prettier than you, hell probably better at everything than you. Dean won’t leave her anytime soon.” She says. Tears beginning to surface.

“You’re 27, he’s 32, going to turn 33 soon. He must not like you because of your age. You’re probably nothing more than a sister to him.” She continues.

There was a pain in her chest, she hated feeling it when she hurt like this.

“First there was Ben in high school, then Dan in college, can’t forget David for messing with you either. So many guys just love playing with you, it’s pathetic to see how desperate you are for a guy.” She begins to sob, crying her words out. If anyone were near, they’d hear her.

And she didn’t forget that after she’d confess her feelings to said guys, they’d just leave her. Not be friends with her anymore. Thinking she was weird or makes them feel uncomfortable knowing such a deep secret of hers. Leaving her alone in the world.

“God, I wish I couldn’t feel anything. This is so annoying, and painful, I wish it would just stop.” She cried.

-

She woke up outside, tears dried up on her cheeks and crusted her eyelashes. She must have cried herself to sleep. She got up and headed back inside.

Dean was already up and making breakfast, Bobby and Sam must be in bed still.

He heard the screen door slam shut. Turning to find Y/N walking in with puffy swollen eyes.

“Mornin’,” he says, taking a second, more concerned glance. “You okay?” he asked.

She rubbed her eyes, to hide the evidence of yesterday. “Yes, I’m fine.” She snapped.

“Okay, miss grouchy, breakfast is almost ready.” He says.

“Not hungry.” She says. Walking upstairs.

She passed Dean’s room, seeing the door open a crack she caught sight of her, naked in bed. She could only imagine they did it, sex. He must really be in love with this girl. She just shook her head as she continued to her room next door to his.

Maybe it was time to move on. A sign, to just move on with your life. Do things your own way.

She stood in her room, staring blankly at her mess she left her before her salt and burn case. Only to hear a knock at her door bring her to reality. Dean opened it, despite her not answering. Seeing her standing there.

“Okay, spill it.” he says, entering. Leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. “No one’s not hungry first thing in the morning, and two, I did catch you with red swollen eyes when you walked in, you’re not okay.” He says.

“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it.” she says.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I don’t want to. I just want to be left alone while I do deal with it. okay.” She says.

“You don’t have to by yourself.” Dean says.

“I know, but I want to.” She says. “Now can you please leave me alone.” She adds.

“Just, holler if you need anything.” He says. Slowly unfolding his arms as he left, closing her door behind her.

She can hear talking in the hallway.

“Hey babe, everything okay?” his girlfriend asked.

“I don’t know what’s up with her, she and I used to talk about everything. Now, she won’t talk to me about what’s got her so upset.” Dean confides in her.

“Maybe it’s a girl thing, let me talk to her.” she says.

“You can try.” He says.

And like that, she heard a soft knock at her door. And opens.

“Hi, I’m Bonnie.” She says.

“Can you please leave me alone?” she groaned. “I just want peace and quiet.” She says.

“Is that all?” Bonnie asked. “Dean seemed pretty out of it when you two talked.” She says.

Y/N remained silent, nothing to say to her.

Bonnie sighs. “There’s no need to be a bitch and give me the silent treatment.” Bonnie says, upset.

“Leave.” Y/N says.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Bonnie says. “It’s all you’ll ever be, is alone.” She says closing the door.

She can hear mumblings of talking but it’s too far from her room.

She’s right, you’ll always be alone. She thought.

She couldn’t take this pain anymore. She quickly dressed in clean clothes, grabbing her purse she heads out. Storming through the kitchen. Leaving the gang puzzled by her behavior.

Speeding out of the lot she calls up one number of someone who might help her with her situation.

-

She walked into the empty bar finding Crowley sipping a martini.

“Ah, ferret, glad you could make it.” he says.

“Enough small talk, you know a way to make this pain go away. The pain I’ve told you about.” She asks.

“Yes I do,” he says. “But just know, you’re mine once it’s all said and done.” He adds.

“Fine, it’s not like I’ve got a choice or another way to make this hurt go away.” She says.

“Now, seal it, with a kiss darlin’.” He says.

She cringes as she forces her lips on his.

-

She had been texting them, letting them know she was okay and just hunting.

Dean being Dean saying he don’t like it she’s hunting alone.

She didn’t feel annoyed, or least bit concerned of him finding her.

She didn’t feel the pain of him being with someone else.

She even didn’t feel the need to eat or sleep.

She loved this.

In the time she would use to sleep, she would read, work out, knit, do whatever it was she wanted to do in that spare time.

Always moving is what kept her out of Dean’s reach, she caught word around from demons that Dean and Sam were out looking for her. She didn’t feel the need to be scared. She just wanted to hunt, explore, and grow. Apparently, at least to her, being soulless has its perks.

-

Dean and Sam couldn’t take it. After they lost Bobby, and Dean dumped Bonnie to go looking out for Y/N, they summoned Crowley.

“Squirrel, Moose, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked coyly.

“Y/N.” Sam says firmly.

“Where is she?” Dean barked.

“Oh, the ferret, she’s working.” He says.

The boys throw their hands up.

“For me.” Crowley adds.

“She what?” Dean asks.

“She works for you; she would never work for you.” Sam barked.

“Oh, well after a night of pain and hurt she couldn’t take it anymore, so. We made a deal.” He says.

“Pain and hurt? What are you on about Crowley?” Dean asked glaring him down.

“You really are oblivious to her and her feelings aren’t you squirrel?” Crowley asked.

“She can be a very affectionate person, but what’s that got to do with anything?” Dean asked.

“Maybe, that was her way of telling you something squirrel.” Crowley says. “She told me she loves you, more than just friends. And after you brought home that girl, it hurt her.” he adds.

“She told me she didn’t want to feel anything anymore, I knew a way, and we came to a deal. Her soul is in hell but, it’s off limits to torture. It’s in it’s own personal cage, alone. So no different than to her life up here.” He says.

Dean looked at Crowley, shocked but then pissed. “I’m gonna kill you.” He growls.

“Good luck with that.” He says. Then vanishes.

“We gotta find her.” Sam says.

“But how, she’s constantly moving. She won’t slow down.” Dean says.

“We hunt, maybe if we can corner her on a case, we can talk this out.” Sam says.

“Fine.” Dean says. Already growing impatient.

-

And that’s what happened. A vamp case popped up on both radars. And the three hunters flanked the vamps, killing them easily.

Dean got to see her for the first time in months.

They managed to get Cas to help out with getting her to stay put.

“Okay, you found me.” She says. No emotion on her face was a smack to Deans.

“Y/N, I know you have no soul, so I’m just going to get this out there.” Dean says.

Cas had practical hold on Y/N’s shoulders, keeping her still. Her arms folded across her chest.

“I’m sorry for hurting you the way I did. If I’d known you had feelings for me, I wouldn’t have gone out and brought home that bitch. All to make you jealous.” He admits.

She nods, not feeling anger.

“It actually makes sense, the way I saw you that day. You cried all night, I heard you just smashing the hell out of that car all night long. I was coming out to ask you if you were alright and I heard you crying.” He said. “I heard, well not a lot but enough to know I hurt you. I didn’t realize what had happened to you before you met us.” He adds.

But Y/N had no emotion written on her face.

“Now I know Y/N, she’d be in tears knowing that Dean understands her. But, we’ve gotten people out of deals with Crowley before. We’ll get you out of yours, get your soul back and get you back to feeling better again.” Sam says.

“But I like this. I don’t feel pain, I love it.” she argues.

“But do you want to feel what love feels like?” Dean asked. “Because I’ll shower you in love until the day I die.” He says.

They stood there in silence as she thought about it.

Cuddles, kisses, the compliments, sex and it’s after care. Deep down she did want to feel the love in all that. The warm and fuzzies people claim they feel when their partner tells them they love them, cuddles them, makes love to them, cares for them after sex. She does want to feel it.

“You feel the same way too?” she asked.

“I fell for you the second you saved me from that shape shifter that looked like you. It was trying to get in my head, and yours. And you didn’t let it. You comforted me all night. I fell for you; I just didn’t have the courage to tell you.” He said. His face unreadable, but she knew he was in pain. A pain she wanted to make go away.

“Okay, let’s get me out of Crowley’s deal, get my soul back. And then we’ll see how your Y/N reacts if she remembers all this. Because I’m sure she’ll be upset at first, but she’ll let you in to fix her up.” she says. She, even soulless, didn’t like seeing Dean in any kind of pain.

“How can you be so sure? I just broke her in a way I don’t think can be fixed.” Dean says. Tears of his own threatening to surface.

“Because, you may have broken her. But you’re the only one who can fix her.” she says.

-

“Not a very good hiding spot Crowley.” Dean says, holding a lighter over Crowley’s remains.

“Bullocks!” Crowley cursed. Then sighed with frustration. “What do you want squirrel?” he asked.

“Y/N’s soul back.” He said.

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

Y/N appeared before Crowley, coming from behind Dean. “Now Demon Boy.” She says, arms folding firmly across her chest.

“Fine. Your soul’s back, no repercussions.” He says. “Now, if you don’t mind, have to retrieve the ferrets soul.” He adds. Glaring at the demon trap.

Sam breaks it and Crowley vanishes. And returns moments later.

“Now you might want to lay down for this one, it will be rather painful.” He says.

-

‘I’ve fallen for you when you saved me from that shape shifter that looked like you.’

‘I’m so sorry sweetheart.’

‘Please, open your eyes. I need to know you’re okay.’

Dean’s voice can be heard in her coma like state. She even remembered when she was soulless what he said to her.

Just to make her jealous. She knew Dean wasn’t good with his words when it came to feelings and emotions. Because even in her comatose state she remembered the times she nearly died on a hunt, how pissed Dean would be at her.

It was because he cared. Maybe too much. So he’d push them away, thinking it would hurt less if something were to happen to them then the pain of their death wouldn’t be so bad. But he was wrong. It only hurt just as much.

She must be coming to, when she felt a warm pair of lips touch her temple. Delivering a cute peck of a kiss.

Her eyes fluttered a bit before opening. Seeing a very worried and tired Dean at her bedside.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, his hand cupping her cheek.

She smiles. Nodding with a hum.

He sighs with relief.

“I fell for you, the moment you saved me from that pack of werewolves in Nebraska.” She says.

“Well, you did need help.” He says, smiling a bit at the memory.

“Yeah, ‘cause everyday I’m, strugglin’” she began to sing a parody of ‘every day I’m shuffling’, changing shufflin’ to strugglin’.

Making Dean laugh, he scoops her up in his arms holding her close. She wraps her arms around his neck.

“I love you so much Y/N, and I’m not ever going to stop.” He says.

“Well then, let the shower of love begin handsome.” She say.

He smiles, ear to ear, happy she remembers the talk he had with her when she was soulless.

Their lips meet in a loving kiss as she cups his cheek, while he held her in his arms. Like the ending to a romcom chick flic.

~

Feedback is fuel, let me know what ya’ll think. :)

Tag list (Free for all at this point, just let me know if you do or don’t want to be tagged.):

@pandazombie69​

@luci-in-trenchcoats​ - somewhat inspired by your Roommates series

@supernatural-jackles​

@becs-bunker​

@winchesters-favorite-girl​

@mlovesstories​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 08/22/2020

[avauntus]

2020 favs: (short) fic recs

I am stealing this idea from @macgyver-sheriff, who has no clue who I am, but whose post I saw go across my dash. Thank you! 👋

Would you like some recs for the holiday season? - I too would like to share love for my favorite things I read that were written this year! <3

I’m going to do this in two parts - the short fics (10k or less, generally one-shot), and another post for the long or series fics I loved this year (it’s 2020, I figure we can use too much of a good thing?)

( @staidwaters - I’m ‘disqualifying’ your works because I’m biased, sorry! Look away! Unless you want recs!) 

"Congratulations, Get Rich" (9,238 words) by Attila (The Untamed - modern AU)

Tomorrow is Chinese New Year, which means Wei Wuxian has to get all of his bad decisions out of the way tonight.

Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Mianmian are all so screamingly perfect as modern versions of themselves in this, and it is KNOCK DOWN HILLARIOUS. Wei Wuxian is just a screaming queer disaster (affectionate) - as he should be.

Excerpt:

After a long beat, Lan Xichen sinks gracelessly into the chair Lan Wangji had been sitting in earlier. “I just want to be absolutely clear,�� he says delicately, “that you are currently under the impression that my brother has no romantic feelings for you. That is what you’re saying to me right now, yes?”

“Yes?” Wei Wuxian says, feeling desperately confused. “Obviously? Why?”

“Because at least one of you is very stupid, and I’m trying to figure out who,” Lan Xichen tells him, sounding distracted. It’s the rudest thing Wei Wuxian has ever heard him say, and his mouth drops open slightly.

“caved to the careless” (6,708 words) by ilgaksu (The Untamed/MDZS - Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen)

Love is a choice you make - like this, and this, and this.

Have you ever read a writer whose work is so distinctly itself that you can feel yourself slipping in time even as you keep going? That’s not very articulate, but it’s the best way I can describe everything of ilgaksu’s I’ve read. Their fics are the same emotional register as having the breath knocked out of you after a fall. This was the first one I read, and I think it ends well-- with what Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen find along the path-- but it’s still heavy. Discussions of canon-compliant character death and grief/mourning here.

Excerpt:

He pauses. Until this very moment, he was unsure who to ask for. He has heard the rumours of the Yiling Patriarch’s ongoing residence here, about Zewu-jun’s seclusion: he’s dead, but even the dead are not free from gossip. But he remembers a courtyard, nearly two decades ago, and the weight of eyes some might have called angry in their intensity. He remembers those same eyes, and how for the wear of the intervening years, they had kept the same essence: longing, yearning, a kind of small unspoken grief.

Song Lan had a dream once. A dream of a sect, bound not by blood, but by a shared belief in the right path. So many things are only an inheritance: shame is one of them.  

Love is a choice. Love is a choice, and you choose until you can’t.

“I am here,” he decides, carving the words into the dirt, every stroke of every character resolute, “To meet with Hanguang-jun. Please show this one the way to go.”  

“Green River Running” (8,169 words) by @rain-hat (Love in the Moonlight - post-canon AU)

5+1: Kim Byeong-yeon returns to the land of the living.

I skimmed through Love in the Moonlight during my quarantine summer (distinguishable from my “quarantine spring” or “quarantine fall” only by fireworks), and immediately upon finishing, thought: “Psht, they killed off their best character.” And then, something happened that never happens -- I went on ao3 and found the exact thing I was looking for, written far  better than I could have imagined. Kim Byeong-yeon is such a quiet yet powerfully subversive presence and the progression here is so masterfully done. This is true of all of rainhat’s work’s I’ve read, but this is a fine example-- I really treasure the warm humanism of them.

Excerpt:

People needed helping hands even more than they needed sympathetic ears, though. Over the last year, Hong Gyeong-rae and Byeong-yeon had built houses and planted crops side by side; negotiating with moneylenders here, helping small-folk secure their stores against bandits there. There was nothing courtly about Byeong-yeon’s capacity for labour, or his expectation of reward. Wherever he went, he worked from dawn to dusk, ate the food he was given, and slept under a roof if he was offered one.

It suited him, Hong Gyeong-rae thought, even though there was something outlandish about his gentle speech and palace manners in the midst of it all. But to behave in any other way would be untrue to his upbringing; nor was he the sort of man to whom it would occur to try. And after all, most people liked to be treated with courtesy; it did not come across as mockery from this solemn, severely dressed young man, who seemed to find no task too big or too small. Hong Gyeong-rae had seen him argue tax law with local councillors and stand up to highwaymen armed with nothing but a knife and staff. But he watched cooking pots for women who had to run to the fields to tide over the day’s labour, too; he wrote letters for them, and tolerated their fractious children and spoon-fed their bedridden elders, if that was what was called for.

“The Veritable Records of King Taejo: Year 2, Entry 208“ (9,857 words) by @sadviper (My Country: the New Age - Nam Seon-ho & Hwang Sung-rok slice-of-life)

Hwang Sung-rok eats his way to the bottom of a real estate scam, and Seon-ho and Yeon help (a little).

No one is out here doing it like SadViper. This is technically part of a series, but they can all be read separately. I did not realize I needed to see more of Nam Seon-ho in all his “type-A government official glory” until Viper started sketching him out for us, and as a bonus, we get to see Yeon, and Sung-rok as the world’s surliest caretaker (but don’t call him that). I have an authorial fallacy where I always think stories have to have some grand “plot” -- a “Maltese Falcon” to pull the reader along-- the genius of Viper’s work is she shows us exactly how interesting and important the day-by-day tiny choices and connections we make are, with an impeccable background of historical research to ground you in the setting.

Excerpt:

Nam Seon-ho was his master now. He was a strange one. He was a traitor, for helping the escaped Liaodong soldiers, but not, because he managed to wiggle his way back into Yi Seong-gye’s favor and was now a sixth-ranked inspector with the privilege of having personal audiences with the King. He was temperamental and belligerent from being the son of a slave mother and a lifetime subject of Lord Nam’s fantastic parenting philosophy. He was afflicted with perpetual guilt. And he was also one of the hardest working and most desperate people Sung-rok had ever known.

It was a terrible combination. He was not merely a disaster waiting to happen, but a disaster perambulating on two legs at the edge of a chasm. If Sung-rok intended to stay in service for long, he needed to find a way to cool down some of Seon-ho’s intensity, even though admittedly, it was what drew him to Seon-ho in the first place.

Thoughts like these plagued Sung-rok for a while. It was one thing to know a person; it was quite another thing to try to change them.

“Orison” (4,975 words) by @gravelghosts​ (aeli_kindara) (Supernatural 15x18 coda)

Cas says, I love you.

So! This rips my heart out, every time. All the times Dean imagines himself together with Cas...and then he imagines himself, if not happy, then thriving.

Jack: “What is the point...if everyone I care about is going to leave?”

Castiel: “The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them, you... When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.”

Excerpt:

The thing Dean tries to do is: listen.

Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just — being. It’s in just saying it, Cas tells him, and Dean’s whole heart is screaming, No, but he shuts his mouth. He listens. He listens like his life fucking depends on it, which it does, in more ways than one.

“Sky Full of Song” (6,632 words) by @drivingsideways (Supernatural, finale 15x20 fix-it, Dean/Cas)

Or: The One in which Cas ghosted Dean.

Look. Look. If Cas(tiel) can yank Dean Winchester out of Hell, celestial-scream at him not once but twice, burn out a woman’s eyes like an utter clown before thinking “Huh, an Earthly vessel, guess that’s not just bullshit, then,” and when they finally work it out, Dean greets them with a knife to the chest and THEN they’ll spend twelve years misunderstanding each other and bickering, you had better believe these two are going to be disasters even in Heaven. Drivingsideways gives us all of that dynamic, with the found family of Jack and Mary as facilitators, and the happy resolution, which of course includes a true form “roughly the size of your Chrysler Building.” <3

Excerpt:

The thing is, Castiel doesn’t want Dean to feel obligated.

Dean has a streak of self-sacrifice that's as wide as the Caspian Sea, and Castiel doesn't want to be any more of a chore or obligation than they have been to Dean for all the long years of their—brotherhood.

Castiel had shocked Dean, to the core of him, with their confession, and Castiel had seen the swirling confusion, the fear, the panic, the shit what do I say, what do I do—how do I stop him—

So, no, Castiel would not be paying a visit anytime soon.

Of course, if Dean evinced an interest in meeting them, then Castiel would not stay away.

Castiel isn't that cruel.

(They have, on occasion, been exactly that cruel, but they are trying to outgrow it.)

Dean is still their friend.

Dean knows how to reach them, if he wants to.

(see? disasters. haha)

“The Rough” (3,267 words) by anactoria (Supernatural, finale -15x20- ‘fix-it’)

 Heaven can absolutely fucking wait.

Rec’ed for the concept more than the style (this is dialogue-heavy, as a lot of 15x20 fix-its tend towards), but I *love* this course-correction: After kicking around Heaven, Dean and Cas return to Earth to take their place as urban legends among the hunter community. Just for a while.

Excerpt:

But it isn’t life. That’s the thing. It’s awesome, but it isn’t life; life’s a hard, painful, infuriating mess, and Dean only got halfway through his own, and he feels cheated. For all he held it together for Sammy at the end, for all he tried to take Cas’s big moment-of-happiness speech on board, he feels cheated.

There’s supposed to be peace at the end. When you’re done.

Dean wasn’t done.

[baby1967impala]

Mr. & Mr. Winchester Part 1

Hey y’all so in celebration of our babies getting married today, I am speed writing a fan-fiction about their married life and raising their son baby Jack. This story will be affectionate and filled with cute ass moments, but some nice hot and heavy “lovemaking” :) 

continue for a sneak peak at my tumblr exclusive married deancas fanfiction!

“Dean!” Cas scolded, entering the kitchen, which was in full force. The coffee was brewing and the bacon bubbling on the stove. 

Dean stopped in his tracks, a spoonful of chocolate pudding a foot away from hungry Jack’s open mouth. “What?!”

“Sugar filled pudding is not a suitable breakfast for a two year old,” Cas said moving across the kitchen, reaching to take the spoon away from his husband but Dean moved his hand away. “Dean...I am not in the mood this morning.”

Dean smirked, “You’re always in the mood.” 

The angel rolled his eyes, “Put down the pudding spoon.” 

Their son was not just silently observing though. His dad had already given him three bites of his favorite food and he wasn’t excited about his daddy busting in and interrupting. He was pouting, to say the least. He smacked his palms on the tray of his highchair, preparing for a tantrum. 

Cas kept his eyes on Dean, challenging him with his eyes. Dean knew his husband’s looks, and when to stand down. “Put it down before our son begins crying.”

Dean took one look at the blonde, grey eyed toddler and his heart melted, he had no choice but to stick the spoon into his mouth, receiving an appreciative babble. 

“Dean!” Cas scolded again, crossing his arms and glaring at his husband. A loud sizzling filled the air and he rolled his eyes another time. “Your bacon is burning.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean gasped, finally setting the spoon down and speeding toward the stove. 

This was their average morning, a grumpy Castiel and a humming Dean, blaring Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede from the speaker Cas got him for his birthday. 

Something had changed in both of them since they finally said “I love you.” The weight of the world had lifted from Dean’s shoulders...he could finally breathe. Cas might have lost his wings and his entire view of living had changed, but he could smile and cry...and love. Specifically, he could love Dean-- openly and proudly. 

There was a certain security in each other’s arms. Cas felt it when he first laid a hand on Dean in Hell. Dean hadn’t realized it then, but so did Dean. They unconsciously claimed each other’s soul, marking it for eternity. Despite all the tragedy in both their lives, all the destiny B.S, this is something that came natural, it was the definition of free will to them. 

They chose to let each other in, not destiny, and certainly not Chuck. 

“Sam and Eileen will be here in an hour, if you wanted to follow up on that case.” Cas said, tugging open the fridge to retrieve a cup of strawberry apple sauce for Jack. 

Dean shrugged his shoulders as Cas snagged the box of animal crackers off the counter. “I think I want to stay home--with our family.”

The statement warmed Cas’s heart. He hadn’t said, family or my family. Dean had clearly said our, and that made him smile. 

End

This is a short part simply because i had to have something out on their wedding day :) 

More parts coming soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[blueaura]

Don’t Get Caught

A/N: Hey everyone, hope y’all are doing well. I wrote this little fic one-shot thingy for @crashdevlin​‘s 3k review challenge. I got prompt #13. Big congratulations to Cassie for hitting 3k followers! Hope Dean somewhat likes this fic.

Summary: Sam and Dean are hunters, but what if Y/N doesn’t want to be one?

Word count : 2.9k

“What’s for dinner tonight? If you say burgers again, I will tell Sam and then you’ll have to little with the ‘eat healthy’ lecture again.” You walked into the kitchen, peering over Dean’s shoulder to look at what he was making. “As much as I love your burgers, we’ve had them four days in a row and if I see another one today, I’m gonna actually throw up.”

“I liked it better when you didn’t snark back. Now it’s like living with teenage Sam all over again. Teenagers are the fucking worst,” Dean lightly quipped back giving you a look that confirmed he was just teasing. “And it’s chicken pasta tonight, you little monster. I can switch things up every once in a while.”

“You liked me better when I was too scared to offend you in case you threw me out?” you deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at Dean. He gave you a look. He clearly didn’t appreciate your humour regarding your rough start with them.

You met Sam and Dean on a hunt. They were appalled that a 15-year-old was hunting alone and basically forced their way into your life. Dean, specially, refused to leave you alone, no matter how many times you pushed him away. Your parents had been hunters and not the most affectionate people, so when pushing the Winchesters away had failed and they had successfully wormed their way into your heart, you were so scared that the first real family you had was going to abandon you if you weren’t enough, you didn’t dare place a toe out of the imaginary line you had created for yourself. It took a long time for them to get you to open up to them and come out of your shell. You never knew why they chose you. From what you knew, they had met other hunter kids before but for some reason, instead of pawning you off to the first responsible adult who could keep you safe, they welcomed you into their life and their home. Your home, you reminded yourself.

“Pasta sounds great. You’re gonna make me fat with all your cooking you know. I’ll have to start running with Sam. I hate running with Sam,” you whined, changing the subject before Dean could start reprimanding you.

“Everybody hates running with Sam,” Dean said, letting go of your previous comment. “And you’re healthy, which is all that matters. I don’t want you thinking about getting fat, you do enough exercise to balance out your eating habits.”

You rolled your eyes. For a guy who claimed to hate ‘chick-flick’ moments, Dean Winchester sure initiated a whole lot of them. Dean lightly clipped you in the back of your head when he saw you shrugging of his words of wisdom. You could see he was gearing up for another lecture. He was such a dad.

“Where’s Sam anyway?”

Dean clearly knew what you were doing but he let you have your moment of victory anyway. If he had learned anything in the past 2 years with you, it was to pick his battles. So, he let it go. For now.

Sam came back in time for dinner. It was one of Dean’s new rules. If you were not on a case, dinner was family time and everyone had to eat at the table. Sam agreed. While Dean acted more like a dad than Sam, the younger Winchester was just as bad. You remembered when Sam accidentally found the pack of condoms in your room. You winced at the memory. There had been a lot of yelling, followed by an awkward conversation about being safe. It was traumatic for all parties involved and you both mutually decided not to tell Dean. If Sam overreacted, you definitely never wanted to see Dean’s reaction.

Being scared of Dean’s reaction was one of the main reasons why you didn’t tell him about the play you were taking part in for school. Yes, you had to go to school. Apparently, high school was important. While you hated school and people in general, you fell in love with theatre. Signing up for drama club had been a blessing for you. Pretending to be someone else and telling stories and being on stage was the only thing that got you through worrying about the brothers when they were out on hunts. But you knew you had to be a hunter. It was the family business after all. So, you never told Sam or Dean what you were doing.

You knew they were getting suspicious. The practices for the play were getting more intense and you could only use the excuse of having detention or staying back to study in the library so many times. For one, they knew that after five consecutive detentions, the school called the parents or guardians, and B – they knew how much you hated school. Just the fact that you were staying a minute more than you had to was a big red flag, specially when you had a perfectly good library at the bunker.

You still had to think of an excuse about going out at night on the final day. While the dress rehearsal was in the afternoon, the actual production was late in the evening and you knew there was no way you could sneak out of the bunker.

While you were pacing in your room trying to think of ideas, the brothers were contemplating your recent behaviour in the kitchen while they did the dishes.

“I don’t know man; she’s been shifty all week. I’m starting to get the feeling she wants us out of the bunker. She keeps bringing up every possible lead for a case. When was the last time Y/N purposely looked for a potential hunt? She hates being left alone. Something’s going on.”

Sam knew Dean was right. This was unusual behaviour for you. Even when you were mad at them, you never hid things. Coupled with all your lame-ass excuses for staying back at school, Sam had a feeling Dean was onto something.

“You don’t think something’s off at school, do you?”

Sam knew all about peer pressure. He also knew Y/N was extremely strong willed but so was he and he still got roped into smoking weed in college. Not that he thought Y/N would ever get into drugs, specially the heavy kind but there was always the niggling sensation at the back of his head going ‘what if?’.

“She would have told us if there was something bothering her,” Sam tried to sound confident but he could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

Dean paused where he was drying the dishes, looked over at his brother and decided enough is enough.

“Here’s the thing – there’s trusting someone and just being plain stupid. Y/N is definitely hiding something and I’d rather she be mad at us for invading her privacy than regret not stepping in sooner. So, seeing how she desperately wants us out of the bunker next week, we’re going to go out of the bunker. Find a fake case Sammy, we’re going fake hunting.” Dean managed a nonchalant grin as he went back to his dishes. Sam contemplated for a moment and reluctantly agreed.

It was 2 days before the play and you still hadn’t figured out how to sneak out. You contemplated telling them you had a sleepover or a party to get to but they knew you well enough to know you didn’t get along with your classmates. If only you could dumb yourself down enough to socialise with them. You sighed and mindlessly browsed through the men of letters library.

“Hey kiddo, we found a hunt a couple of towns over. Looks like a simple salt n’ burn. You gonna be okay on your own for a couple of days?” Sam’s voice jerked you back to reality and when you registered what he was saying, you barely managed to keep yourself from squealing out loud.

Your giddiness must have been obvious as Sam and Dean shared one of those looks – the ones you hated – and asked you if you were alright.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. And yes, I’ll be good by myself. When are you guys leaving?”

If they had any second thoughts about their plan before, your answer just got rid of them. You were never this excited about a hunt and you always, always asked about every little detail.

“We’re probably gonna leave tonight, drive overnight to avoid the traffic. So, I for one am gonna catch some zee’s while I can. Unlike Disney princess hair over here, I won’t be getting sleep on the road.”

“You know that wouldn’t be a problem if you’d let me drive for a change!”

“Hell no, I ain’t listening to your classical crap.”

You shook your head at their antics as they walked away. Finally, things were going your way.

Things were not going your way. The brothers had left the previous evening (although they didn’t go far, but you didn’t have to know that). The day of the play had arrived and you were already nervous when you heard that the male lead was sick and his understudy had to step in. You hated him. He was one of those cocky high school boys who thought they were the shit. You had to reluctantly admit that at least the guy wasn’t the worst actor in the world. Although, if he kept hitting you with his cheesy pickup lines, you were going to stab him. Hard.

Dean and Sam spent the night at a motel before making their way back to the bunker after you’d left for school. After taking a quick shower and grabbing fresh clothes, the brothers took one of the more inconspicuous cars in the bunker basement and parked outside the school. They knew you would recognise the Impala immediately but you’d never really been interested in the other cars, much to Dean’s dismay.

“Never thought we’d be staking out Y/N,” Dean said wryly.

“Well, at least everything is normal for now. Maybe we were wrong and she’s just being a teenager you know.”

Dean doubted it but didn’t say anything. They waited for Y/N to come out when school finally ended but she never did. Sam even scoped out where the stoner kids were and she wasn’t there, much to his relief. Finally, Y/N came out 3 hours after school ended, looking extra tired but otherwise alright. The brothers shared a confused glance but sighed in relief. At least she wasn’t doing anything illegal.

You went straight home and fell asleep to recharge before your performance tonight. You got up in the evening, one hour before you had to be at school to calm your nerves.

Sam and Dean were confused. Y/N had done what she would normally do on any other day. Maybe she stayed in school for a longer time than usual but other than that, she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

Dean suddenly had a horrifying thought.

“Dude, if this whole thing is about a boy, I’m gonna actually kill her.”

Before Sam could reply, they saw Y/N leaving the bunker.

“It’s late. Where the hell is she going? And what the hell is she wearing?” Dean’s voice grew more incredulous with each question. “If she’s sneaking out to a party, I’m grounding her. I don’t care how old she is.”

They followed her without being seen. To the school? What the hell?

There was a lot of buzz at the school despite the late hour. Confused, the brothers got out of their car and followed Y/N inside, making sure to stay a few feet behind her.

“Is it just me or are there a lot of adults here?” Dean asked.

Then they saw the poster outside the hall Y/N had just entered. Rock Hills presents ‘West Side Story: the musical’. Sam stood there gaping at the poster and Dean had never been more confused in his life.

“What the hell?”

“I don’t know”

“Seriously. What the hell?”

“I don’t know!”

“Come on. Let’s go in,” Sam nudged his brother in the direction that the other parents were going.

The host said something about the show starting in 5 minutes but they ignored him and made their way backstage. They located Y/N quite easily. She was standing in a corner, mentally psyching herself. They made their way towards her and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

You were just minding your own business in the corner of the room before the show, going through the whole spiel of ‘why did I do this’ and ‘holy shit I’m gonna throw up’ when you felt a hand tap your shoulder. Startled, you jumped and turned around to glare at whoever disturbed you, when you froze. Sam and Dean were staring at you incredulously and had your legs been working you would probably have hightailed out of there.

“Fuck,” you softly exclaimed under your breath.

“Something you wanna share with the class kiddo?”

You couldn’t make out the exact emotion in Dean’s voice but it didn’t sound like anger. You held onto that and realised you had to be on stage in less than sixty seconds.

“Uhm, hold that thought,” was what you said instead. You went to peek through the curtain. Yep, 45 seconds.

“I love you! No time to explain – gotta go!”

With that you rushed on stage, more terrified than ever. That melted away once you started performing though. You forgot all about your worries for the duration of the play. You acted, sang and danced your heart out and when the thundering applause reached your ears and you saw the brothers in the audience cheering you on along with everyone else, you had a feeling it would be okay.

You were backstage again, taking off your stage make-up and gearing up to go face the music as it were. You were scared of the brother’s reaction and even you could tell you were procrastinating. Most of the other cast had left and it was time for you to leave too.

They were standing outside, leaning against a car. The first thing that stupidly came out of your mouth was – “Where’s baby?”

Dean laughed. A full belly laugh. You felt some of your anxiety leave your body.

The three of you looked at each other. Sam was the first one to make a move. He pulled you in for a tight hug, almost lifting your feet off the ground, kissing the top of your head.

“You were incredible, kiddo.”

You buried yourself into his chest as your eyes filled with tears of relief. Of acceptance.

“Thanks moose,” Your reply was muffled against his chest which moved with silent laughter at the nickname.

You finally pulled away from Sam when Dean cleared his throat. He looked at you blankly for a moment and dread filled your entire being.

“You ever pull something like this again, I will kick your ass.”

For a second you thought he was talking about the play and your heart dropped.

But then he pulled you into a hug too. You tensed, confused.

“Dammit kid, I don’t like being worried about you. Stop doing shit like this. Why the hell didn’t you just tell us you were taking part in this thing? You’re not nearly as good at the hiding thing as you think you are. I was terrified something shady was going on with you.”

Although he was almost yelling in your ear, you sagged against him as the tension seeped out of your body. This time you actually did start crying. Dean just hugged you tighter and Sam gently rubbed your back.

After a few minutes Dean pulled back a little and put both hands on either side of your head.

“You never have to hide anything from us. By now I like to think I know how your mind works and I can guarantee that I will never be mad at you if you want to pursue anything other than hunting. You’re not our kid because you’re a hunter Y/N/N. You’re family, regardless of your job. Clearly I’m not doing a very good job at this parenting thing if you don’t know that already.”

You furiously shook your head, hiding your face in his shirt again.

“You’re the best dad anyone could ask for. You both are.”

Your words were barely audible and your face was extremely red but the brothers still heard you and grinned at each other over your head.

“We love you too, kiddo.” Dean kissed your forehead and started walking towards the car, pulling you along.

“What do you say we get some ice cream and celebrate at the bunker? We could watch some movies, make some popcorn? You know what I’m in the mood for Sammy? West Side Story,” Dean grinned as you groaned into his shoulder.

The brothers continued to tease you as you walked to the car. You finally felt happy.

“But seriously guys, where is baby?”

[1000roughdrafts]

Downtime

Square filled: Sex Pollen

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Explicit 18+ / Warnings: language (y/n in this is quite crude and has a mouth on her lol), self-stimulation/masturbation/fingering, smut, vaginal penetration, fluff, 

Word Count: 3.9k 

A/N: incorporating a card from Kink Poker  Poker Card: A♠ (Masturbation, “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”) from KinkPoker

Created for @spnkinkbingo​ 

Hunting witches drug you and Dean across eight different states in a matter of three weeks. Three fucking weeks. No hunt had ever taken so long, and it left you feeling incredibly frustrated, drained, and even incompetent. The bitch was leaving bread crumbs that lead absolutely nowhere, and that was no mistake. No, she knew exactly what she was doing. 

You affectionately nicknamed the first location ‘Ghost Town Fucking Georgia’. You stormed into an abandoned building, guns loaded with witch killing bullets and ready for a fight, only to find a deserted altar with the candles still burning. This last location, Miserable Motherfucking Missouri, you walked into a greenhouse; no witches, just a shit ton of flowers. 

Sam stayed at the bunker with Eileen, with the promise that he’d look further into the case and keep you posted, and you wouldn’t call him after midnight unless it was an emergency. After working non-stop, you needed a break, so Dean and you decided to take two days and one night off; get some drinks, relax, and get right back to it in the morning. 

Right now, you couldn’t even fucking think straight. Not with this - out of nowhere - evocative feeling breathing down your neck. And with the exhaustion that plagues you, you can’t bring yourself to give a shit about the mix up with the motel’s front desk about the bed situation. 

“Looks like we’re finally gonna sleep together,” jokes Dean, but you find no humor in it. Not when you’re feeling the way you have been since stumbling upon the witch’s science experiment. 

“God, I wish Sam were here right now,” you mutter under your breath, kicking off your shoes and leaving them by the door. He would definitely know what to do about this mystery plant. 

“What, don’t like me anymore, Y/N?” Dean says, lips curled up to one side in an intoxicating smirk. Wait, you think, intoxicating? What the fuck is wrong with me? 

You turn your body away from him, trying to place your attention on anything but Dean’s allure. He drops onto the bed, letting his bag fall to the side as he lay back. When you don’t offer a reply, he sits up, rolling his eyes at seeing you at the desk, papers spread out in front of you. 

Even as you’re facing away from him you can somehow still feel his every move as he stands from the bed. From his calloused, yet gentle hands setting down next to him as they lift the rest of his enticing, muscular body , to the way his musk of a long day’s work wafts from him. 

“I thought we were gonna take some time off,” he criticizes, setting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them tenderly. 

Your eyes shut involuntarily, and you accidentally let out a soft, and thankfully unnoticed, moan. Clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back to knock his hands from them. 

“Don’t... don’t do that,” you plead. “I’m just trying to figure out what this plant is.” 

“Why?” he asks, moving back to sit on the bed, seemingly indifferent to your rejection. Right. Why does that even bother you? 

“Why what?” you ask, distracted by his smell. 

“Jeeze, Y/N, I know it’s been a while since you’ve had some shut eye, but it’s like your brain is shutting down,” he chuckles, “why are you looking into that plant? There were hundreds,” he says with a shrug. “It was a distraction, another ploy, a wild fucking goose chase.” 

Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, you stutter, “I just... I find this one interesting, that’s all.” 

“Come on, it’s one in the morning. I don’t need you wakin’ me up getting into bed at six when you can’t figure it out.” 

Without removing your eyes from the picture on your phone, you mutter, “you wouldn’t wake up if the room caught fire, Dean. You’ll survive.” 

Coming to stand next to you, his presence feels magnetizing, like you’re full of static electricity, hair standing on end and needy for him to touch you, to release the built up energy. 

“Dean, could you not-” you sigh, shoulders dropping as you let out the breath. “Could you please not stand so close? You’re making me feel... uncomfortable,” you squeak, shifting in your seat when you feel that intimate slick of arousal in your underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ is a good way to put the way you feel, but not for the reasons he might think. 

“You’ve never felt that way around me before,” he says, almost insulted. Ugh, I can’t help it! God, why can’t I help it? 

“I know, I know, it’s just,” you force yourself to look at him, “I just-” 

“Y/N, you’re sweating,” he interrupts, placing a hand on your forehead, “and you’re hot as hell. Are you okay?” 

“Can you just go to bed, Dean?” you grumble, jerking your body away from his touch and extending your arm straight to point at the bed. “I’m fine, and you’re kind of annoying me right now.” 

“I’m not even doing anything!” he retorts, arms thrown in the air, “fuck. What’s your problem?” he growls. “When was the last time you got some? ‘Cause you’re being a real bitch tonight.” 

The two of you had been in many fights over your five years of friendship, but him raising his voice like this has never given you the feeling it does right now. The gruffness in his quiet shouts only makes you crave more, to have him degrade you while you ride his dick for hours. 

You shake your head, trying to send the thoughts away. It’s not happening. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“Puts you on edge, leaves you keyed up, jumpy,” the gruff has dropped from his voice, and he stands to grab a beer from the small fridge. “Besides, we’ve been glued to the fucking hip since we started this lost cause of a case, so Lord knows I need it, too,” he says, bringing the neck of the bottle to his lips. 

You groan, “ugh, can we not talk about sex right now, Dean?” I need to open a window, or take a walk. 

Dean grips onto the arms of the chair from behind you, whirling it around to face him. He has you cornered with his arms on either side of you as he stares you down with squinted eyes. You would do anything to avoid this rousing eye contact, but you can’t pull away. 

“What’s goin’ on with you? Did something happen back there that you’re not telling me?” 

You open your mouth to, yes, feed him a lie, but the sharp bastard catches it before it comes out. 

With a tsk and a quick tilt of his head, he brings a finger up, just inches away from your nose. “Ah ah, no ma’am,” he says, dropping to a crouch in front of you. “I want the truth. Now.” 

Feeling yourself get even wetter than before, you bring your eyes into your lap. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you throw your hands onto your cheeks in hopes of cooling them down. 

“Is it hot in here? It’s pretty hot in here, right?” you say, dropping your hands and quickly standing to rush past him for the window. 

You allow the crisp breeze to hit the fire you feel on your face and close your eyes as you revel in the short, but sweet, release from this ravenous and almost uncontrollable desire to fuck your best friend. 

At first it’s his finger that you feel, wrapping around your elbow, and then his palm as he closes his grip on your arm, and why is everything seemingly moving in slow motion? 

He flips you around and grips onto both of your arms tightly, and you’ll be damned if you didn’t at least try to hold in that moan. 

His lips pursed, head tilted curiously. He drops his hands and takes a step back, letting your arms drop to your sides as he lets go. 

“Did you just... did you just moan?” Oh God, oh God, he looks disgusted. Or is that intrigue?? 

Covering your face again, you let out a groan and push your knees together, trying to release some of this tension. 

“Yes,” you sheepishly admit, letting out a whine in frustration. “I don’t know what happened! Like, an hour after we left the greenhouse, I started to feel...” you trail off. 

“Horny?” he asks with a faint smirk. You can only nod, keeping your eyes on the floor. “Well, there’s ways to take care of that, but I’ll tell you right now, it’s not by doing homework.” 

“Yeah, except I’m pretty sure the fucking plant is to blame.” You think for a moment, “you know who would know what to do? Sam. And I know what I promised him, but I think this qualifies as an emergency. Don’t you? Yeah, this is definitely an emergency. I can not be stuck in this room, feeling this way, with you loo-” you throw an arm at him in gesture, accidentally meeting eyes with him as the last word nearly slipped from your lips. 

Hoping he wouldn’t press the matter, you grab your phone off of the desk and search for Sam’s contact. 

Dean’s presence even more alluring now, he grips onto your arm and runs his hand down to your wrist, grabbing the phone and setting it back on the desk. 

“’Loo-’ what?” 

“No, nothing, Winchester. We’ve been friends for way too long, I’m not about to do anything to jeopardize that.” 

“Well, that’s both of our decision to make, don’t you think?” he says, “how are you feeling right now, anyway?” he asks like he already knows the answer, but is just waiting to hear you say it out loud. 

You sigh heavily. Just give it up. “I feel like if I don’t fuck someone soon, I’m gonna die.” 

He laughs, softly but heartily. “It’s not funny, asshole,” you say, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but your dripping pussy clenches at the vibration, and you’re right back to square one. 

“It’s been a while for both of us, you know,” he says, trailing off. 

“I’m listening,” you urge. 

“And... obviously you’re a little bit more in need than I am,” he chuckles, “but we both need this, right?” You nod quickly, “and we both... want this, right?” he asks, an eyebrow raised. 

Ah, there it is, you think, my knight in shining fucking armor, asking for consent. 

“I’ve never anted anything more, Dean,” you say in a whisper, taking a slow step towards him. 

“For how long?” he questions, face scrunched up in intrigue. 

“For about six hours. Clothes off. Now,” you snap your fingers and point to the bed. 

“Woah, woah,” he chuckles, “slow your roll baby cakes. I’m not doing anything unless I get your permission. I don’t want you regretting all this in the morni-” 

“This isn’t a fucking contract, Dean,” you shout. “It’s sex. You down? Cause I might just go to that bar we passed and-” 

“Get on the bed,” he demands. 

Smiling, you waste no time in removing all of your clothes and lay on the bed. Running your hands across your breasts and down your stomach, you focus on keeping them above your belly button. 

“Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch,” he says, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, drawing back the sleeves. 

“Excuse me?” you say, springing up to sit straight, your hands planted behind you on the bed to hold you up. 

He casually walks to sit in the chair. Resting his forearms on the arms of the chair, he leans back slightly. “I’m serious, Y/N.” You stay silent, mouth agape at the surprise, “look, you want this? Prove it.” 

Scoffing, you scoot down to the edge of the bed. “I won’t lie to you, Dean, I kind of like it when you boss me around,” you say setting your fingertips on his cheek, caressing his face as you bring your hand around to the back of his neck. 

He grips onto your wrist, but leaves it. Without moving his head, his darkening eyes turn to yours, “then prove it.”

“Fine,” you chirp. Leaning back and supporting your upper body with one elbow, you pull your feet as close to your ass as you can, exposing all of you to his viewing pleasure. 

Eyes glued to his, you place two fingers on top of your clit, walking them back and forth and moving slowly down to your entrance. As you flick that sweet spot just below your clit, you watch as Dean’s eyes trail down from yours. They slowly roll down your naked chest, soaking up every detail of you and stopping to watch your fingers as the thrust inside of you. 

The way his eyes widen in lust only intensifies your libido. You throw your head back, arching your back as you continue to fuck yourself, needing for your fingers to go deeper. You feel a stir in your core as you’re slowly climbing towards your orgasm, but as soon as you feel that rise it escapes you. 

You growl in frustration bringing your head back to face Dean. Pulling your hand from yourself, you smile when Dean tilts his head. 

Without saying a word, you scoot to the edge of the bed and let your legs fall between Dean’s. You work his belt, quickly unbuttoning it before unzipping his pants. He lets out a sigh, moaning as you pad his growing dick over his boxers. 

His hands fly on top of you breasts, massaging them gently before bringing his fingers to your nipples. You let out a moan when he pinches them, temporarily stalled in your attempt to undress him. 

With his fingers gripping onto the elastic of his pants, he stands and pushes them, along with his boxers, down to his feet. He leans to press his lips against yours in an intense kiss, surprising the both of you at the jolt of it. You stall for a moment, your lips frozen against his as your mind catches up to what you’re doing. 

When you feel that stir once again, you drop your thoughts and leave them behind as you fiercely kiss him back. With his palms against your chest, he starts to gently push you back onto the bed, but you pull away. 

He looks at you curiously, but before he can question if you want to go further, you place your hands on the bottom of his shirt and pull it over his head. Putting your hands on his chest, you push him back into the chair. A smile forms on his lips as it rolls back and hits the desk, causing you both to giggle before you place a knee to one side of him. 

You keep your eyes on his as you bring your other leg up. Dropping down onto him, you use your hand to guide his cock inside of you. Both of you let out a voiceless moan as his thickening member fills you. Your eyes shut as you let out another lust filled moan, and your head tilts back as you lift yourself just a bit. 

Using the arm chairs to hold yourself up, your back arches as you get him to hit your sweet spot. He puts his hands to the small of your back, pulling your chest against his as you ride him. With your hands now on his shoulders, you grip onto him, using them to add more power to your grind. 

Both of you now breathless, the moans come out as croaking pleas for more. His legs straighten out to give you more room to work, so his hands tighten around your shoulder blades to hold you up. He pulls you up and down on top of him, and heat swarms your back where his fingers dig into you, but it only serves to excite you more. 

“Fuck,” you groan, and in hearing your voice, he lets out a low growl, letting his head fall back against the desk. “Oh my god,” you cry, dropping your lips onto his neck.

You only mean to leave pleasurable kisses in a trail to his mouth, but the harder he pounds into you, the more vocal he is, the more your teeth dig into his skin. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t ask you to stop. Rather, he lowers his hands to get a better grip of you and starts to pull you down onto him as he pumps inside of you. 

His name escapes your lips in multiple syllables as you bounce on him. Your legs begin to shake as the earth shattering orgasm hits you. Your mouth freezes on his neck, open but no longer baring any teeth as you squeak out an airy moan. Thrusting into you a few more times he lets out his own deep moan, filling you with hot cum as you collapse on top of him. 

A few silent moments pass, and to you it feels like hours. You keep your face in the crook of his neck as the both of you catch your breath. With wide eyes you stare at the floor, wondering what the hell you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

This doesn’t have to change anything, right? You think, trying to convince yourself that things can easily go back to normal. This doesn’t mean things are different, you affirm. 

You presume Dean feels a similar confusion, as his hands haven’t moved from your back, nor has he spoken a word. Fear of facing him is overpowered by the numbness that fills your thighs from the position, so you slowly lift your upper body to take a peak at his face. 

His eyes are closed, and a slight smile rests on his lips. Before you can think about anything else, you draw your face closer to his, and plant a soft, affectionate kiss on his lips. When you pull away, his eyes open and oscillate between yours. 

“What’cha thinking about?” you ask him. 

He keeps his eyes on yours, carefully calculating a response. “About how absolutely amazing you are,” he chuckles, lightly blushing. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just saying that cause I fucked you,” you laugh, lifting your body up to stand down from the chair. You suddenly feel embarrassed to be naked around him. A heat fills your cheeks, and you turn your body away from him to walk towards the bathroom. 

Grabbing a hand towel you clean yourself up and look into the mirror at your sweaty face, the way your hair frizzed up and flies to and fro. Chuckling at the appearance you straighten your hair out just a bit and walk back into the room. 

Dean, still naked, lies on the bed on his chest. His arms rest under the pillow as his head is turned in your direction. Smiling when he sees you, he lifts his head up just a bit. 

“Should we-” you start, pausing to clear your throat. “Should we talk about what just happened?” you sheepishly ask. 

He pushes himself up with a soft groan, sitting on the edge of the bed as you walk over to him. “What’s there to talk about?” he shrugs with a smile, “you were sick and I cured you,” he jokes, but with the thoughts that circle in your mind, you find no humor in it. The smile drops from his lips when you don’t respond. He grips onto your wrists, causing you to look down at him. “See, this is what I was talking about,” he starts, and you detect a shakiness in his voice that you can’t help but to latch onto.

Is that... hurt? 

Your eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head, “no, Dean, it’s not that,” you say, pulling yourself from his hands to sit next to him on the bed. He rotates his body to face you. “I don’t regret it. I just-” you stop, letting your eyes fall onto the floor. “What if we-” you sigh, reminding yourself that this is your best friend. He’s the only person you’ve ever felt comfortable sharing every intimate detail of yourself, even prior to tonight. He’s been there for you through thick and thin, and if you could get through everything you have been, surely you can overcome telling him how you feel. 

You turn your body to face him, grabbing onto his hands. “I just need to get something off of my chest, and I’m sure we could talk more about this later. I don’t want to spring anything on you, especially with everything that’s going on, and the fact that with the life we live we don’t get to make these kinds of decisions often. I mean, you’ve said so yourself, we don’t get a happy ending-” 

“Y/N, what are you saying?” he interrupts with wide eyes. You haven’t a clue how long he’s been rubbing your finger against your thumb, but you zone into it. Does he even know that he’s doing that? Is it on purpose? Does this just come with sex with a Winchester? 

Your mind reels, heart pounding in your chest as you remind yourself that he’s always been a safe space for you, someone you could talk to about anything, so you take a deep breath. 

“Dean, I felt something when you kissed me,” you say, letting out a breath of relief as the words finally spill out. “I know we’ve been friends for a long time, and I really truly meant what I said about not wanting to ruin that, and I don’t know if you felt it, too, but what if?” you leave it open to let him decide what should come after the ‘if’. 

His hand slips from under yours and he cups your chin, bringing your face to level with his. A smile dances on his lips as if he can’t decide whether he should keep it or not. His opposite hand finds a spot on your cheek and he uses his thumb to rub a soft circle on your face before letting his hand trail to your ear. 

He puts a stray hair behind your ear and brings his face closer to yours. Your breath hitches in your throat and you keep your eyes on him, anticipating his every move, but wondering if this is one of his sick, practical jokes. But he doesn’t stop. The hand under your chin cups around your throat as his lips clash against yours. You open your mouth to the kiss, scooting closer as his hand slides down your throat and onto your chest. 

When he pulls away, he plants his eyes on yours, smiling brightly. 

“Is that a... yes?” you say, holding back your smile until he can say the words aloud. 

He nods, and you let out a breath, the smile forming on your lips as you pull him in for another kiss. 

“We can talk about it more in the morning,” he says, scooting back to fluff his pillow. Motioning for you to lay next to him, he says, “for now, lets get some sleep.” 

Still wearing a smile, you lean over to shut the lamp off before cuddling up next to him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you rest your head against his. As the excitement fades out, sleep fades in, and you find yourself falling asleep in each other’s arms for the first time, wondering what the future holds for the two of you. 

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