#jack the lost nephilim

[shallowseeker]

Jack's fingerprint + 2 meanings

The pessimistic meaning: Jack is not allowed to be an individual; he is not unique; he is angelic; a soldier fresh off the line of God's emanations of war

The optimistic meaning: Jack lacks dermatomglyphs and is outside of destiny; untraceable and uncontrollable by the whirls and ridges of God's planning; like how Noah the Gorgon couldn't "see" him in Ouroboros

[ninii-winchester]

You’d never know (Part 1)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.3k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, spoilers s13, Dean is an asshole.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the world slowly enveloping in darkness. The same could be said for Y/n's mind. Dark clouds of hurt and loneliness lingering in the air, encasing her in an impenetrable bubble of insecurities. It was hard time, stating that is an understatement. It was a dire situation. She thought back to how she got here.

When Jack was born, his mother died giving birth to him. Lucifer arrived at cabin to take Jack away. He killed Castiel. Mary fought Lucifer pushing him inside the rift to the alternate universe, but before the rift could close Lucifer pulled her in with him.

Y/n, Sam and Dean watched in terror as Mary fell through and the rift closed. While Sam panicked, Dean was horrified. He couldn't lose his mom, not again. Y/n let out a gasp, her mouth dropped open as the dread settled in. She knew Dean would lose it, he's not gonna sit back knowing his mom is stuck in the apocalypse world with the Devil himself.

After burning Cas and Kelly's bodies, the trio took Jack back to the bunker. The air was tense, Dean wasn't happy with the decision. He didn't trust Jack, he didn't want him anywhere near him, his brother or his girlfriend. It was because of the Nephilim that he lost his mother.

Y/n was worried, Dean had closed off, he was distant. Most of all, he was angry. All the time. He constantly snapped at Sam, brushed her off any given moment. He wouldn't even look at Jack. The kid was trying to make good in Dean's eyes but he just shurgged him off.

Dean started to unwind a bit after the shifter case, and even more when Jack brought Cas back. Y/n was relieved that Dean was coming back to his normal self. After Jack accidentally killed the security guard, he decided to leave. Until he could control his powers, he wouldn't come back. Y/n was worried about the kid leaving on his own but she had faith in him.

"Hey!" Dean said bringing Y/n out of her thoughts. "You seem lost."

"Just thinking." She shrugged closing the book in front of her and putting it back in its place on the shelf. "You need something?" She asked tersely. She wasn't trying to be mean, but lately she didn't feel like he wanted her. After he brushed her off so many times, she didn't bother him.

Dean could hear the formality in her voice, and he knew he deserved it. He had been too preoccupied with his concerns to realise he'd been not only neglecting her but hurting her in the process, when all she wanted to do was help. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry." He gauged her expressions to see how bad he had fucked up.

Instead of speaking, she gave him a look. He couldn't quite read what was it supposed to mean. He chewed on his lower lip, leaning back against the table. With a loud sigh he moved towards her. Laying his hands gently on her waist.

"Dean." She reprimanded. She knew what he was apologising for, but she didn't need his apology. She wanted him to talk to her. She's told him a thousand times that she wants him to communicate. She knows it's hard for him but she needs him to express himself, she needs him to have healthy coping mechanisms. She doesn't want him to shut her out or resorting to alcohol.

"I know, I know." He rested his forehead on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. It wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time."

"I just need you to communicate with me, Dean. We're in this together. For better or worse. Next time, don't shut me out. We'll get through this. We always do." Dean nodded, his green eyes looking at her.

"Yeah." He placed a kiss on her head. "I promise."

When Jody called on a supposed lead on Jack, the trio went to find him. When they finally found Jack, he was with a girl, who ran away as soon as she saw the trio. Jack confessed that he was trying to help bring Mary back.

"That girl is a powerful dream-walker, her name is Kaia. She can help us." Jack said.

"You thought good kid. We'll find Kaia and bring Mary back." Y/n said patting Jack on the back.

When they finally found Kaia, she refused to help. She said that it was scary, and that she cannot get them anywhere other than The Bad Place, Dean's patience was running thin, he was growing frustrated, his mind was going off the rails knowing the key to getting his mother back is right in front of him but refusing to help. Sam tried to ask Kaia politely but then Dean pulled his gun from his jacket and undid the safety.

"Get in the car." He said calmly. He was anything but calm.

"Dean." Y/n and Sam warned. He pointed his gun at the young girl and Y/n moved in front of him. "Dean, this is not the way to convince her. You're not thinking straight."

"It's my Mom, Y/n." He growled.

"I know Dean I understand but-"

"No you don't!" He exclaimed. "You'd never know how I feel Y/n. You've never had a mom." Dean yelled and the atmosphere fell completely silent. The only sound audile was the woosh of air. Y/n let out a gasp taking a step back. "You wanted me to communicate huh? So listen to me and listen to me good. You don’t know how I feel, I need my mom back and" he pointed his gun at Kaia "she's gonna come with us either way. And you're gonna move out of the way."

"Dean." Sam exclaimed his eyes widened. He wasn't sure what possessed Dean to say all that but he went too far this time.

It was true that Y/n never knew her mom, she was barely two months old when her parents gave her up. It wasn't until she was thirteen she found out that her parents didn't want her since they were too young to be parents. She had told Dean about her longing for her parents but she never thought he'd use it against her.

Without a word she moved aside, unblocking his path to the dream walker. He motioned the girl with his gun to move and she got into the car, Jack followed. With his jaw clenched, Dean got into the drivers seat and slammed the door.

"Y/n." Sam started, "I'm so sorry. Dean he's..."

"Go Sam." Was all she said.

Sam approached her with hesitant steps, he hugged her tightly. "I'm really sorry." He whispered. Dean watched the two in the rear veiw mirror, the anger flushing away and guilt settling in. He knew he regretted those words the moment he said it but he was far too gone in the moment to realise. He turned his head to the front as he heard Sam slide into the  passenger's seat. The air was thick with tension as they drove off to South Dakota.

Y/n wouldn't lie, sometimes she thought that Dean didn't need her as much as she needed him, she often thought he might leave her but never in a million years did she think it'd be this way. She never expected him to hit where it hurts the most. In that moment, each and every feeling resurfaced. The feelings she tried so hard to suppress, the feelings of being unwanted, of not being enough.

She can't ever forgive him and won't ever forgive Dean Winchester.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33

[samdeancass]

Soft and Slow (Alternate Version)

Requested by @claymoresofinfamy23

Pairing: Jack Kline x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Characters: Jack, Y/N

Description: Jack is still new to having sex so Y/N takes it nice and slow with him.

A soft feeling warmed your chest, and a smile erupted on your face as you saw Jack sitting at the table in the library, the warm hue of the wall lamps accentuating his facial features. He looked so relaxed, so carefree, which was a huge relief after all he'd had to endure. You walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"How's my favourite nephilim today?" Jack turned in your arms and tilted his head. "I'm the only Nephilim in the world, so, of course, I'm your favourite." Chuckling at his comment, you leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His lips connected with yours immediately, coming together in a loving bliss. Jack slowly stood as your lips stayed locked together, his hands running up and down your slender frame, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your hands found their way to his hair, yours and his lips moving together in a familiar motion. Soft moans escaped him as your hands travelled down his body but stopped at the hem of his pants. "Shall we move this to the bedroom?" Jack nodded, and you took his hand, guiding him toward your shared room. Closing the door, you and Jack connected again, kisses more desperate and ravenous. You pushed him onto the bed, his body bouncing roughly off the mattress.

You crawled on top of him, hands finding their way underneath his top and exploring his bare skin. You could feel the bulge in his pants digging into your thigh and smirked. "Does it really feel that good, angel?" He purred at the nickname you had given him. Your hand disappeared into his pants and underneath his boxers. Jack hissed at the longed connection of your hand with his dick. "Yes, feels so good." Your hand began to stroke him, moving slowly as the most beautiful sounds came from Jack. You could feel the wetness begin to pool in your underwear as his sounds sent shivers straight to your cunt, and the mere sight of Jack getting off on your touch alone.

You pulled his pants and boxers down, letting his cock spring free as you licked your lips with excitement. Kneeling, you took Jack in your mouth, licking the pre-cum from his tip that had begun to seep out. You were slow at first, letting Jack become used to the sensation, but once Jack entangled his fingers in your hair, you knew he was ready for more. Hollowing out your throat, you took all of Jack, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You licked around his tip before resuming your movements from before, bobbing up and down at a furious pace. You felt Jack's dick twitch in your mouth, and you tasted sweetness as his seed filled your mouth as delicious sounds escaped Jack. 

His eyes were laser-focused on you now as you stood up and slowly removed your clothing before crawling on top of him, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. "Are you sure? We don't have to." Jack cupped your cheek and gave a soft smile. "I've never been more sure of anything." You reached between the both of you and gently grabbed his dick, guiding it towards your entrance. You sank yourself in him, using your juices as a lubricant, as his girth completely stretched you out, moans and hisses filling the once-silent room. Slowly, you began to ride him and smiled as his eyes fluttered closed and little whimpers escaped his lips. "That feel good, baby?" He smiled and nodded.

"The best feeling I have ever felt, beautiful." You began to move faster as you both became lost entirely with each other. His hands reached out for you and pulled you to his chest as a new confidence overcame him. Your moans became louder and more guttural as his dick sank deeper inside you, hitting your G-spot over and over. "Yes, Jack! Right there, baby!" He felt pride in his chest before tangling one hand in your hair and pulling slightly, sending shockwaves through your body. "I'm gonna cum, Jack. I'm so close, angel." Something took over him at that point, and he began pounding into you, using his angelic endurance to his advantage. Your lips found each other, kissing every inch of the other's face. You could feel the familiar warm feeling building up in the pit of your stomach, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. You reached between the two of you and began rubbing circles on your clit, your moans becoming more needy as you came closer to your release. You knew Jack was close as his eyes had shut again, with his breathing becoming more ragged. "I want you to cum with me, Jack." You took one of his hands and placed it on his balls, massaging them over his hand. He took charge and kept on going himself. The room was filled with humidity, moans, and pure love as you finished with each other, spilling out onto the bed covers.

You looked up at him and noticed he was staring at you with pure love and adoration in his eyes. "That was amazing. Thank you, my love." He leaned down and kissed your lips sweetly, his hand coming to cup your cheek. "You never need to thank me for that, Jack. It was for both of us." You slowly got off and lay down beside him before Jack gathered you in his arms. He pressed sweet kisses to your head and held you to his chest as you lay like that for the rest of the night, content with the other's company. 

Supernatural Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @desimarie12 @deascheck

[zepskies]

If You Want It To Be - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down after a hunt, Sam and Dean tow you back to the bunker for Christmas. This time of year gives you and Dean a little courage to be honest about what you both want. And what you want, is for him to see you. (18+)

AN: Here’s Part 2! This fic is an entry for @deanwinchesterswitch's TGWRC: Christmas in July event. 🩵❄️

Themes: Mistletoe (a classic), eggnog, Christmas dinner

Word Count: 5,700 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut central, tiny bit of angst, fluff and feels. ❤️💚

Part 2: Christmas Eve

Before you start on the Christmas cookies, you pull Castiel aside.

“Here’s the mission,” you tell the angel. “I know the guys don’t do Christmas all that often, so I want to surprise them with a nice dinner tomorrow. Think you can get this list of stuff for me? I think my addled brain forgot we needed real food too.”

Castiel looks over the scrap of notebook paper you give him with a critical eye.

“Uh, yes. This seems straightforward enough…what about pie?” he asks.

You raise a brow at him. “What about pie?”

“Dean likes pie.”

“I understand, but Christmas is for cookies. Not pies.”

“I think Dean would beg to differ,” Cas points out.

“Fine, get the man his pie,” you relent with a sigh. “Get pecan. He likes pecan, and that’s still somewhat Christmasy.”

“He likes apple better,” Cas mutters, but he still takes up your list and heads out to do your bidding.

Now with most of the bunker, namely the kitchen, all to yourself, you put on some festive music on your phone before you start to lay out all your ingredients on the counter.

Not many people know about your hobby, but you think you’ve seen enough baking shows to be proficient with some flour and egg.

You decide to begin with good old-fashioned sugar cookies that you’ll try your best to decorate later. But first, you start measuring out ingredients.

You sing along with Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby,” not knowing that you have an audience.

Dean spots you on his way back in from the garage. He was aiming to grab a drink of water from the fridge. He finds you instead, bopping around the kitchen. He hears you humming breathily to the music, watches you swaying your hips to her sultry notes. And he smirks. 

He steps up behind you and leans in close to your ear to ask, “What’cha making?”

You jump with a loud yelp, flinging up flour with your wooden spoon. Hearing Dean’s laughter, you whip around and give him a playful glare before swatting at him with the spoon.

“Hey!” he protests when you mark his shirt (more than once) with flour. You smirk and continue your task of mixing the dough.

Serves you right, troublemaker, you think. He comes up behind you to inspect your work.

“Cake?” he asks.

“Cookies, remember?” you tell him. “Want to help me?”

“You seem to be doing just fine.” He raises a brow as you take chunks of dough, roll them evenly in your hands, and place them on the tray. You’re making quick work of it too.

“Matter of fact, you look like a pro,” he adds.

You flash him a smile tinged with nostalgia.

“Yeah, well, my mom and I used to do this together every year when I was a kid. Snickerdoodles, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, oatmeal chocolate chip—”

“I think I get the picture,” Dean says with a growing smile. You return it, but your expression starts to fade the longer you think of her. 

Dean catches the shift; he knows your mom passed just a few years ago, losing her battle with lung cancer. He and Sam attended the funeral.

Dean understands. He just lost his own mother a few months ago—again. Another reason he can’t quite be Mr. Nice Guy with Jack. At least, not how they used to be. He knows it wasn’t the kid’s fault. Logically, Dean knows this. The nephilim didn’t have his soul.

In Dean’s heart though, his mom is still gone from this world. She got cheated out of her second chance at life. And deep down, selfishly, Dean feels cheated too.

It’s a reminder that gets stuck in his throat. But it dislodges another memory, one he feels comfortable enough with you to share, in the privacy of a quiet kitchen.

“I think I remember helping my mom bake something once, when I was a kid,” Dean admits. Though he clears his throat when your gaze turns to him in interest.

“Think it was chocolate chip cookies…well, whatever, they were hard as a rock,” he says, smiling at the memory. “So we went to the store and bought some from the bakery instead.”

You watch how his face softens, in the way it does whenever he talks about his mother. You smile just as softly.

“Aw, little Dean,” you say, because you can imagine it so clearly. Maybe he’s four or five, working dough between his small hands. And beautiful Mary, smiling beside him, encouraging him.

Dean’s eyes meet yours, uncomfortable with the gentle way you’re looking at him. So he clears his throat and goes into the fridge. He pulls out the eggnog and finds the rum you bought last night, specifically for what he’s about to do.

“Ooh, good idea,” you say as he fixes both of you a glass. Though you balk at his heavy pour of rum. “Geez, trying to get me drunk before noon?”

He grins at you. “Morning, night, and day are the only times to be drunk.”

You snort in response.

“Is that all?” you remark, and you wipe your hands of the wet dough (and most of the flour) before you take the glass he offers. You clink your glass with his and take a sip, even though you choke on it soon after.

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” you cough. He had to have poured half the bottle of Bacardi Superior in there.

Dean sucks between his teeth. “Yep, that is bracing.”

He glances over at you and smiles, raising a finger at the corner of your mouth.

“You’ve got some there,” he points out. You touch your chin, trying to feel for anything on your face.

“Where?”

“On your mustache, there.”

“I don’t have a mustache!” you say indignantly. You know this for a fact, as you spent a fair amount of time waxing and shaving yourself last night.

…Not that you had any particular reason to (or anyone to wax for), you just noticed that you needed some grooming. That’s all.   

Dean’s grin edges into a teasing smirk. “Don’t worry, it’s cute. Less Duck Dynasty and more Steve Harvey, Family Feud guy.”

You splutter laughing and hit his chest with the back of your hand.

“You’re such an ass.”

He chuckles and wipes the bit of eggnog from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. It makes your cheeks flare with a warm blush.

“Well, I uh, should get these into the fridge to chill,” you say. You grab the tray of rolled up cookie dough and head for the fridge, but maybe you’re more frazzled than you realize.

You accidentally knock into Dean’s elbow, making him spill half his drink down the front of his shirt.

You gasp, eyes flying wide, while he looks down at the mess now dripping from his shirt onto the floor. When he eventually looks up at you in deadpan exasperation, you have to bite your lip against a smile.

“Good job,” he cracks.

“I’m so sorry,” you say with a bubble of nervous laughter. “Hold on.”

You finish putting the tray in the fridge and immediately turn to grab a few paper towels. You go to Dean and start helping him blot out the sticky, frothy mess staining through his green flannel and black undershirt, from chest to sternum.

The problem is, the paper towel is thin and breaking off on his shirt, making your task damn near impossible. White, wet pieces of paper are coming off on his black shirt.

“Well, you’re doing great,” Dean wryly remarks.

You can’t help but giggle. “It’s not all my damn fault here. Who the hell buys one-ply paper towels?”

“Sam. Evidently, he’s cheap as hell,” he replies, eliciting another laugh from you.

Soon enough you give up on the paper towel with a huff, and you go to grab an actual hand towel. Dean follows you, which assures that you bump into him again when you turn back around.

You yelp as your foot starts to slip on the sticky drops on the floor, but Dean grabs your arms, steadying you. You can’t help but giggle again, looking up at him. He quirks an amused smile down at you.

But then your face slackens as you gaze up above his head. He curiously follows suit.

And you both realize that you’ve fallen into a trap.

Jack’s sprig of mistletoe once again lies above your head. Your heart trips up a bit faster as Dean looks down at you, this time with a growing smirk.

“My turn,” he says. His eyes are flirtatious, but they hold a hint of something deeper. Something you can’t name.

“Are you gonna go for my cheek like I’m your cousin?” he asks.

His raised brow is a challenge, and it makes you bite the inside of your lip. He can be so annoying, but you suppose he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t make things more difficult for you.

Well, I didn’t put on lipstick for nothing, you muse. And though anticipation and nerves trill down your spine, you lean up on your toes, take his face between your flour-stained hands, and press your lips to his.

It’s a sweet kiss, and his hands come to rest along the curve of your waist, holding you close.

When you pull away, you suddenly realize just what you’ve done as you let your hands fall away from his face. You’re not quite sure what to do with them afterwards, so they clench awkwardly in the air between you two.

Dean looks down at you with a softer, yet playful smirk. He reluctantly drops his hands from your waist.

But he makes a show of licking his lips. You taste sweeter than boozy eggnog…actually, you taste more like chocolate. He glances behind you, and sure enough, he spies the Nestle bag in the corner.   

“Chocolate chips?” he notes, eyeing you suspiciously. “Maybe those weren’t originally meant to be sugar cookies, huh?”

His gaze is drawn to the way you bite your lip again, trying to hold back an embarrassed smile. You raise a hand to wipe the imprint of MAC’s “Russian Red” lipstick from his mouth, and he smirks under the pad of your thumb.

“You saw nothing,” you warn him. You attempt to stifle another nervous giggle. “You’re officially sworn to secrecy.”

He hums at that. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“You’re asking for a bribe?” You raise a brow.

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Maybe. What’cha got for me?”

He rests a hand on the counter by your arm, subtly leaning in and looming over you with his broad frame. A hot blush heats your cheeks, then down your neck. And then excitement bubbles inside you.

Because the one thing you never thought would happen seems to be happening: Dean is actually, honest to God flirting with you. 

Your mouth twitches at a smile as you pretend to think. 

“Hmm…okay! I got it,” you say.

You grip the front of his shirt, and once again lean up on your toes so you can kiss him. This time, Dean holds you there by your cheek. His large hand presses against your warm skin, and his fingers soon delve into your hair. You hum against his lips and deepen the angle of your kiss, your palms lying flat against his chest.

So fucking firm, you think. A solid wall of a man.

Dean’s free hand falls warmly on your hip, bringing you ever closer. He makes a pleased sound when you suck and nip at his lower lip. And with each new kiss, you’re falling deeper and deeper into the intoxication of him. 

Before you realize it, he’s walked you back to press you into the little table in the kitchen, where you all shared breakfast this morning. But you surprise him by breaking the kiss. You pull away just enough to see his confused, handsome face.

“There you go. That’s your payment,” you tease. “Good enough?”

“Hell fucking no,” Dean rasps. 

He dives back in to claim your lips, and you smile, letting him do it. Your whole body is buzzing with warmth of feeling and happiness, especially when his arms slip around you firmly and pull you flush against him. Your hands travel up his flannel-clad arms to wind around his neck.

A moan catches in your throat when his lips veer away from yours, beginning a path along the curve of your jaw, down the side of your neck, stopping just under your ear. His stubble prickles against your skin in the most delicious of ways. Your eyes close at the feeling. 

You sigh and card your fingers up the back of his neck, through his hair. “Dean…”

He surprises you with a nipping kiss on your earlobe, making you jump a little with a yelp.

You utter a laugh and playfully tighten your hand in his hair. “Hey!”

The sound of his deep, muffled chuckle in your ear sends tingles along your skin and heat, down between your legs. You let out a shaking sigh and press kisses of your own to his neck.

You tug at the collar of his shirt to reveal more skin, so you can latch onto his shoulder next. It’s a playful bite, one that elicits a groan from Dean as his thigh slips between both of yours.

His hands find your waist, and with a quiet grunt, he hefts you up onto the kitchen table. You squeal at the sudden move, clinging to his shoulders when the table shakes a bit.

But it prompts you to look up at Dean’s face. You see the desire darkening his eyes to hunter green. And his hands part your knees to let him stand between them.

You blush hotly when his palms smooth up your bare thighs, over the skirt of your dress. He drags the thin fabric with him and rucks it up well above your knees. Your mouth parts on a shaky breath when those sinful hands stop at your hips, bunching up the fabric there.

“I like this dress,” he mentions. Your mouth curves with a grin.

“I think it likes you back,” you reply. Your gaze falls to his chest as you pick at the collar of his flannel. “This should go, though.”

With an amused huff, Dean shrugs out of the green plaid first. You help him with the black undershirt next, giggling a little when it gets caught on his wrist and spikes up his short hair. That’s all right, you think, because you’re about to mess it up even more.

Your hands run over his bare chest first though, as you drink him in with your eyes. Dean notices with a smirk, and he lets you pull him in again by his hair as you meet him with a passionate kiss.

He likes the way you try to devour him with lips and tongue and teeth. In turn, he slips underneath the skirt of your dress and squeezes your thighs.

You gasp into his mouth, allowing him to devour you back. It makes you realize that this is seriously heading somewhere. It’s hot and heady and his touch is making your head swim. But your heart shoots you a firm reminder…

One that makes you slower to respond to Dean’s increasingly demanding kiss.

Sensing your hesitation though, Dean slows his roll.

“You okay?” his deep voice rumbles.

When you don’t have a ready answer for him, he pulls back enough to see your face. He finds your uncertainty.

You look down in embarrassment.  

Even though his heart is still pounding (and his dick straining in his jeans), Dean moves his hands from under your skirt, back to your waist. And he raises his brows, ducking to find your eyes. Once you meet his gaze, he gives you a smile. 

“Hey, talk to me,” he prompts. His thumbs brush against your sides, earning your weak smile back. Your hands slide down his neck to rest on his shoulders.

“Sorry. I just, um…” you stumble on your words. You’re not sure how you want to say this, but Dean’s brows are knitting together. His face is more serious now as he watches you with singular focus. It gives you enough courage to put your heart in his hands.

“This, us, right now…is this a one-time deal?” you ask.

Out of all the things he thought you might say, maybe Dean should’ve prepared for that one a bit better. He frowns, considering how to answer you—and what would put the least amount of pressure on you. Even though his gut is telling him (kicking him), on what he should really tell you.

But those words get stuck in his mouth. So all he can bring himself to say is…

“If you want it to be,” he says.

You bite your lip at that. Though not in a good way, his instincts also tell him. Your gaze falls.

“That’s just it,” you say. After a moment, you manage to look up at him again. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” you say in measured tones, even though you’re scared. “I like you, Dean.” 

The “like” feels like something a lot deeper, even to your own ears.

But you don’t expect the way Dean’s guarded face softens.

He breaks into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek with his thumb. You close your eyes at the tender touch. 

“Well, that’s good,” he says. “Because here I was, trying to wrap my head around how I was supposed to let you go after havin’ you…right where I want you.”

Your eyes flash open at that. Then he leans down and kisses you again. Your shock is a powerful thing, but it all but melts at his touch. You relax into him with a sigh of relief, kissing him back and closing your eyes against the sweet sting of tears.

You don’t have time to let them fall though. Dean doesn’t give that to you. He pulls you by your thighs until you’re at the edge of the table. You feel his hands travel up and curl around the waistband of your underwear. You raise up for him so he can tug them down, over your ass and thighs, and you kick the black, lacy panties off your foot with a giggle.

Dean grins, especially when you go for his belt. Your eyes briefly meet with his while you make quick work of the buckle, then the button and zipper on his jeans. You hook two fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and tug him closer.

“Come ‘ere,” you whisper.

Smirking, Dean obliges you, stepping closer into your orbit. And he has to grip your thighs for support when you slide a hand down the front of his underwear, feeling down the length of his hard cock with a gentle, sensuous hand. He moans, pressing his forehead into your shoulder.

“Ooh, finders keepers,” you tease. Dean snorts against your neck and presses a biting kiss there, satisfied by the way you gasp and shiver.

You feel the shape of his smile on your skin. But he grabs your arms tight when your hand squeezes experimentally around his cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You gonna keep teasing me, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you reply cheekily. All the while, you continue to caress him within the confines of his pants, especially brushing your thumb around the sensitive head.

If you keep this up, he’s not going to last long enough to do everything he wants to do to you. Everything he’s dreamed about for years with a hand wrapped around himself…but he’s been too much of a fucking coward to make that leap with you.

He told himself he was protecting you. That you were better off with someone less damaged. That he’d just drag you down into his hellish life.

But he just can’t fucking take it anymore. 

So Dean grasps your wrist, prompting you to release him. You look down at his face and catch the way his playfulness fades into a more concentrated desire. The heat in his eyes makes your mouth part in soft surprise.

Dean picks up from where he left off before, pressing a hand to your cheek and ravaging your lips. His hand then slides into your hair and gets a firm grip. All the while, his free one slips beneath your dress and between your legs. First he just teases the seam of your pussy with the calloused pads of his fingertips.

Your breath catches in your throat as you squeeze his shoulders and lean back, giving him a better angle. And you utter a moan when those thick digits slip between your folds and sink deeply into your wet heat.

“Dean,” you gasp his name into his mouth. The hand in your hair tightens as he works you over, exploring your inner channel with two fingers while this thumb presses and circles around your clit. Your tremulous hips begin to move in time with his rhythm, meeting his thrusts as you pulse deep inside with pleasure.

His lips drift away from your mouth, pressing against your cheek, then into your neck.

“I got you, baby. Let go for me,” he says hotly in your ear. His thumb rubs more insistently against your clit in time with his pulsing fingers.

Your inner walls squeeze around his hand, tighter and tighter. And you utter a gasping moan into his ear as you cling to him. Dean strokes inside you through your shuddering release. It’s almost too much, but it prolongs the feeling of your pleasure and makes your arms tremble around his neck.

Afterwards, he rubs your lower back until you catch your breath. You manage to press a grateful kiss into his neck, then his cheek.

“Holy shit,” you utter. It earns a genuine laugh from Dean as he cups the back of your head.

“Oh, we’re not done,” he promises, leaning back to look into your eyes. “I think you’re gonna be more comfortable in my room.”

You tilt your head at him. “Or…”

You shuffle even closer to him on the table and pull off your dress, slipping it over your head. You feel a little self-conscious in exposing your full self to him, but Dean watches you undress with hungry eyes and a tight jaw.

After your black dress falls to the floor, he takes in the sight of your body, his gaze landing on the black lace bra still covering your breasts. His hands slip up the curve of your waist, up your sides, and slide behind to unhook your bra.

His mouth burns a trail down your chest, between the valley of your breasts when he drags the bra down your arms and to the floor. You grab onto his arms for support; you feel like you’re riding the hurricane that is Dean Winchester, and you don’t expect to come out intact.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shudder. You suck in a breath as his hands cup your breasts, roughly kneading and rolling his thumbs over pert nipples.

“Smooth talker,” you manage to quip with a smile.

“Ain’t nothin’ but the truth,” he tells you. “Feels like I’ve been waiting a goddamn lifetime for this.”

His eyes are dark with desire, but they’re also serious. Your voice gets stuck in your throat for a moment. He’d been waiting for you?

But you realize that sometimes, words are overrated. You slide your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth and taking satisfaction from the way he groans into yours.

He holds you flush against his chest, skin to blushing skin. He runs his warm hands down your naked back, familiarizes himself with each and every one of your curves.

Dean’s waited so long for this, he doesn’t know whether to take his time, or just take you right now before someone walks into the open kitchen.

But you make the decision for him.

You break away from his lips to drag his belt and jeans down, just enough to shuffle them past his hips. Dean’s lips curve into a smirk. It would be easier to turn you around and bend you over on the table (and the thought is pretty fucking appealing right now).

…But he wants to see your face. He wants to know, looking in your eyes, what you want from him and how his touch makes you feel. 

So he helps you free his straining cock from his boxers to line himself up to your entrance.

With his arm wrapped around your waist to support you, and a hand on the table, Dean sheathes himself inside you. You both release shaking breaths as he bottoms out, stretching your inner walls and wrapping firmly around him.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You nod at that, wiping the dewy sweat forming above his brow. He flashes you a grin, one you recognize from his younger, more boyish days. It’s a welcome sight, and you smile back and wrap your legs around his hips. If possible, it buries him deeper inside you. He groans.

“Damn, baby,” he says, panting for breath. “Haven’t even started yet, but you might just kill me.”

“There are worse ways to go,” you tease.

He snorts at that. In their line of work, isn’t that the fucking truth.

When he begins to slide out of you for the first time, you brace yourself with a hand at the back of his neck and another on the table. Dean begins a steady rhythm, one that serves you well as you get used to the size of him.

But eventually you urge him on faster, your nails scraping through his hair and against his scalp. He groans and drives into you at a clip that makes your toes curl and a keen high in your throat.

He spills hotly inside you when he comes.

You know you shouldn’t have let him, but you wanted to feel him, wanted to hold him the way he held you. And you do so, stroking his cheek and drawing a thumb across his full lower lip as he shudders.

But Dean isn’t satisfied, not until his fingers further part your folds and find your still sensitive clit. He rubs and circles insistently, until you can’t help but give him your second release, shuddering a moan as you cling to him. He holds you with an arm wrapped tight around your lower back, pressing your breasts against his chest.

You both pant for breath. His cheek rests alongside yours, and both of your eyes close for a moment. You brush your fingers more gently through his hair.

“Dean,” you start to say, but the sound of the bunker’s door unlocking makes you both freeze.

“Shit,” Dean mutters.

You can’t see them from the kitchen, but you hear Sam and Jack come in. Oh fuck.

Dean reluctantly detangles himself from you and wrestles up his underwear and jeans. Meanwhile, you hop off the kitchen table to grab your dress, pulling it on as you look for your bra and panties.

Sam calls your name, then Dean’s. But the two of you ignore him as you try to silently scramble around.

You manage to find your bra, but you don’t have time to put it on. You shove it behind the toaster. Then you find a napkin to wipe off the rest of your lipstick.

Meanwhile, Dean finds his black shirt. He hesitates when he sees it’s stained all over with flour and dried eggnog, but he puts it on anyway. (He won’t realize until later that his hair and shoulders are flecked with the stuff, just as his lips and chin are still smudged with your lipstick.)

He grabs the green flannel you throw at him, and he finds your panties tossed in the corner. He raises up the black lace in his hand and smirks at you with waggling brows.

“Give me that!” you whisper-hiss. The slick between your thighs is already becoming uncomfortable, along with the chill on your bare ass under the dress.

But instead of obeying, Dean winks at you and pockets them instead. You gape in disbelief as he flees the kitchen, presumably to disappear into his room. It leaves you in a…sticky situation, so to speak.

Sam calls your name questioningly when he comes around the corner. He pops into the kitchen with a few Walmart bags in hand. Sticking out of one of them are some stockings, you notice.

“Hey, how’s the baking going?” he asks.

“Good!” you say, though your voice is far too high and chipper. “Good. Just about to get them into the…oven.”

You turn and realize you haven’t even pre-heated the oven. You do so after pressing a few buttons, and you go to the fridge to grab the tray of chilling dough.

Sam raises a brow at you, especially when he sees your frizzy hair, and the flour stained across your bottom.

But he wisely doesn’t comment.

Later that night, Dean lays on his bed. He’s long since showered, fully clothed, arms crossed while his music plays from his laptop. But he can’t make himself focus on anything else but you.

How it was to finally have you; not just the give of your soft curves under his hands, but the sound of your voice coming apart in his ear, the way you’d begged him, at times teased him, and then gave him a run for his money with your wily hands and tongue.

Dean’s had all of that running through his head for the rest of the damn day.    

And there were stolen looks at dinner that evening. Furtive smiles. Brief, innocent touches. Moments where you blushed down to your neck, and he had to hide his amusement. (Even if his brother had noted his apparent good mood at dinner.)

But between Sam and the two angels hanging around, Dean hasn’t had a chance to talk to you after what happened in the kitchen. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.

If you want it to be, he’d said, when you asked if this was going to be a one-time thing.

He hopes he made himself clear—that this is not that kind of deal. Not for him.

Now that he’s gotten a taste of what he couldn’t have, and worse, now that he knows you want more from him…he just can force himself to let go this time.

There’s a thought that he doesn’t want to face. It’s been buried so deep, for so long, that he can’t even commit it to the forefront of his mind.

But it’s there.

Despite the hell he attracts like flies to shit, he wants you. Not for one night. Not just for kicks. He wants you to stay arguing with him about stupid shit, taking his teasing and dishing it right back—like making fun of his slippers and how much he secretly likes country music.

He wants you with him and Sam on hunts, even though it also makes him worry. (But he worries much more when he knows you’re out there, hunting alone.)

Dean thinks about you when you’re not around, more often than he’d like to admit. So today, he finally had to face the truth.

He wants you. More than he’s wanted anything in a long time. And he wants to find out what it’ll be like to try this for real, with you.

The thought that you still could be thinking otherwise, wondering, doubting him, has Dean going mildly insane.

It’s not right, and he takes pride in righting wrongs.

So he decides to break out of the confines of his room to find yours. It lies down the hall and to the left; he knows because you take the same room every time you stay at the bunker, which admittedly, isn’t as often as he likes. Maybe they can change that…

“Oh. Hello, Dean,” says Castiel.

Dean inwardly curses as the angel comes from the opposite direction. Already he’s tilting his head in curiosity.

“It’s late. Feeling peckish?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replies. He moves past the angel and continues down the hall.

“Dean,” the angel calls to him.

Dean pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“What?”

“The kitchen is the other way,” Castiel points in the direction in which he’s going.

“Uh…well, yeah,” Dean says. “I just, uh…”

Cas’s head tilts just so, confusion soon replacing his curiosity.

“Never mind,” Dean waves a dismissive hand. He’s forced to follow his friend down the hall, away from your bedroom door which lies just inches away.

He doesn’t know that you can hear the entire conversation from the safety of your bed, comfortable in your pajamas. You have to stifle a giggle as you listen to Dean fumbling. You have a feeling you know where he’d really been headed.

So you take your phone out and text him.

Foiled by Columbo once again, you tease.

Moments later, Dean texts you back.

More like cock-blocked.

You snicker at that. You still haven’t given back my panties.

And you ain’t getting them back. They’re spoils of war.

You roll your eyes. But then Dean starts typing again.

Just to recap. Today: not a one-time thing.

Your smile grows and warms, like melted butter.

Good…can we talk tomorrow?

It’s a date, he says. And a beat later. Merry Christmas, beautiful.

You realize it’s officially 12:00 a.m. Christmas morning. You have a feeling it’s going to be a good one.

Merry Christmas, Dean.

AN: 😏 Well then. Merry Christmas, indeed. Let me know what you thought of Part 2!

Next Time:

Dean takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the garage.

There you find the remains of your car, which has rusted out parts strewn haphazardly all over the ground. You raise a brow. This is how he fixes your car? 

“You are so not winning the bet.”

Or will he? 😉

Find out in PART 3.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

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[bi-bard]

Unreal Unearth - Hozier Writing Challenge Masterlist

Hello! Here's the writing challenge masterlist for Hozier's "Unreal Unearth".

This is easily one of the most beautiful albums I've ever listened to it. It is full of gorgeous lyrics and music. I hope that the stories I have constructed for it can reflect that.

I hope you guys enjoy these stories!

----------------------

De Selby (Pt. 1)

And Sit Unseen, With Only the Inner Upheld Jack Kline X Reader [Supernatural] Summary: Two Nephilims find themselves taking shelter with the Winchesters. However, no safety and security could match up to true connection and understanding.

De Selby (Pt. 2)

I Wanna Fade Away with You Dick Grayson X Reader [HBO's Titan] Summary: (Y/n) and Dick's connection was one to be envied. By friends and family and anyone who had known them. This connection is good until it seems to be turning Dick into someone different. Now, the biggest question is whether or not that change is bad.

First Time

Some Part of Me Came Must Have Died the Final Time You Called Me, "Baby" Joel Miller X Reader [HBO's The Last of Us] Summary: Joel is offered a rare glimpse of hope after the apocalypse had started. However, the universe can pull away signs of hope just as fast it can offer them.

Francesca

If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again Charles Rowland X Witch!Reader [Dead Boy Detectives] Summary: Whoever claimed that risking your life was only for the living had never seen the true devotion of a ghost before.

I, Carrion (Icarian)

But If We Fall, I Only Pray, Don’t Fall Away from Me Captain Sean Renard X Reader [Grimm] Summary: (Y/n)'s new reality forces many secrets to come to light and many decisions to be reconsidered.

Eat Your Young

It's Quicker and Easier to Eat Your Young Peaky Blinders X Child!Reader [Peaky Blinders] Summary: A new gang attempts to put down roots in Birmingham, much to the displeasure of the Shelbys. However, as tensions rise, more is revealed about this new gang... including some concerning cracks in the foundation.

Damage Gets Done

You and I Had Nothing to Show but the Best of the World in the Palm of Our Hand Daisy Jones X Reader [Daisy Jones & the Six] Summary: In which two dear friends find themselves face-to-face years after they lost contact with each other and it's as if a day had never truly passed. Except that it did. The only question will be what they will do now that it had and they were both such different people.

Who We Are

And the Hardest Part is Who We Are Nikolai Lantsov X Reader [Shadow & Bone] Summary: A long line of unfortunate events leads two old friends to learn more about each other and themselves.

Son of Nyx

Son of Nyx Hannibal Lecter X Reader [NBC's Hannibal] Summary: An exploration of two forms of grief; one for a death that occurred long ago and one for a death that is set in stone but has not yet occurred.

All Things End

And Just Knowin' that Everything Will End Should Not Change Our Plans Merlin X Reader [BBC's Merlin] Summary: A story of love, loss, and accepting the inevitable.

To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe)

And I Wish I Could Say that the Rive of My Arms Have Found the Ocean Kaz Brekker X Reader [Shadow & Bone] Summary: Time can be essential in earning trust. If only it didn't take a matter of seconds to lose that very trust.

Butchered Tongue

A Butchered Tongue Still Singin' Here Above the Ground Morgana X Reader [BBC's Merlin] Summary: Morgana escapes from Camelot after her attempt to tear apart the kingdom and kill Uther. Now alone, she finds some kindness in (Y/n), who may end up being far more important than Morgana would have ever considered.

Anything But

I Would Do Everything Just to Run Away Mr. Knightley X Reader [Emma. (2020)] Summary: Mr. Knightley's eyes seem to lock onto an old friend of Emma's. Said old friend's eyes seem to lock on any of the potential exits around them. Some may be able to read between the lines. However, some people require a far more direct response.

Abstract (Psychopomp)

All My Love and Terror Balanced Between Those Eyes Will Graham X Reader [NBC's Hannibal] Summary: A collection of nightmares that have been haunting Will the most recently.

Unknown/Nth

And There are Some People, Love, Who are Better Unknown The Master X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: [End of Season 12] The Master was known for doing whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. However, after so much time together, (Y/n) wanted to believe that they would be offered some kind of mercy. Oh, how wrong they were.

First Light

But After This I'm Never Gonna Be the Same and I Am Never Going Back Again Eleventh Doctor X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: (Y/n) had never known true peace like they did with the Doctor. They had never known such support, such acceptance, such love. What will happen when (Y/n) learns that their perfect existence isn't all that they thought it was?

UNREAL UNEARTH: UNHEARD

Too Sweet

You're Too Sweet For Me Kya Clark X Reader [Where the Crawdads Sing] Summary: Kya meets another outcast. Though less known than Kya's seemed to be, (Y/n)'s reputation is one that seemed to follow them to all places except for the places that they go with Kya. Even though it seemed like nothing could stop them from growing closer, there may be a line that the two of them can't cross without their reputations getting in the way.

Wildflower and Barley

I Swear It Will Be Buried in Words Connell Waldron X Reader [Normal People] Summary: For many, going to university can be a time of self-discovery and new connections. For others, it can be the most isolating experience of their lives. That had been the experience for both Connell and (Y/n). What happens when two very lonely, very scared people find themselves forced to face that loneliness without hiding from themselves and each other.

Empire Now

The Future's so Bright It's Burnin' Harley Quinn X Reader [Birds of Prey] Summary: The fall of Sionis leaves room for the rise of Harley. A rise that will forever be known by anyone who walks the streets of Gotham.

Fare Well

Let the Sun Only Shine on Me Through a Fallin' Sky Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader [The Bear] Summary: Two damaged people make a series of impulsive decisions that may lead to their downfalls... but at least it felt good in the moment. ----------------------

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[castielmydarling]

Suptober 2023-Day 15: Abstract (again)

Just for now 911 words on AO3 or below Summary: Cas has a heavy request for Dean. I know I already did one for today but I then I thought of this so yeah here's another lol

Cas took a deep breath. He stood outside the bedroom door, bracing himself for what he was about to do. He didn’t particularly want to do it but it was necessary. He opened the door to find Dean stretched out on the bed reading. He glanced up from his book, smiling when he saw him. 

Cas sat on the bed. “Dean.”

Dean put his book down and quickly sat up. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas smiled sadly. He could sense Dean’s elevated heart rate, could feel his worry. He would miss that. “Nothings wrong, Dean. Well, not really.”

“Cas…” Dean said, anxious. Now he was really worried. 

Cas shook his head. “It’s ok, Dean, really. Just let me explain. I need you to do something for me.” He held up his angel blade and a small glass vial. “I need you to cut out my grace.”

Dean’s eyes widened in shock. His head was swimming with a million questions but he could see Cas didn’t want to be interrupted. 

Cas took a deep breath and continued. “As you know my grace has not been consistent for some time now. Some days I need to sleep and eat. Urinate.” He added, annoyed. “And other days I don’t. I’ve thought about this a lot. I’m tired of the inconsistency.” He said honestly. 

“Is it safe to cut it out?” Dean asked, concerned. “What about Jack? Could he help?”

“Perfectly safe.” Cas put the blade down to hold Dean’s hands in his. “I promise, Dean. I’ll be fine without it. As for Jack, no he can’t help. Not yet.”  He tried to smile reassuringly. 

“When I first got out of the Empty, Jack tried to replenish my grace but he could only manage a small amount. Separating from Amara left him weakened. He has most of his former nephilim power but replenishing grace, especially as much as I required, was too much for him. Given time he can do it but it might take years for him to reach that level.” He sighed.  

“I’ve never mentioned this before but Jack and I frequently communicate on our own angel radio channel. Although lately I can only manage it if he’s close by, another reason I’m doing this.” He looked down sadly thinking about all he was going to miss. “He can always sense me and I him. And you.” He added, sadly. “I had to make sure he was ok with losing that connection because I know from experience how hard it is to lose that.”

Dean squeezed his hand. He knew he was referring to the last  time he was human. Dean had many regrets about that period, knowing Cas lost his connection to him only makes it worse. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on that particular mistake. This is about Cas.

“I also had to think about my usefulness on hunts.” Dean is ready to interject but Cas stops him. “I know you don’t care, Dean, and that fact is one reason I’m doing this.” He reassures him. “It’s not only my strength I would be losing but my ability to heal you if you got hurt. I can barely manage it these days but knowing I could alleviate at least some of your pain was enough. I do this and I lose that ability.”

“I love you, Cas. I don’t care if you can’t heal some bumps and bruises, anything worse, that's what hospitals are for. Or Jack if he’s around.” He laughs, sadly. “I just want you to be ok. To be happy. If cutting out your grace can help with that, can stop the daily guessing game, then ok. Let’s do it.”

Cas hands him the blade. “It will.”

Dean takes the blade, leaning in. He pauses giving Cas a chance to call if off but instead he gives him a tiny nod to continue. He slowly brings the blade to his throat, slicing a small cut. He moves the vial underneath it to collect the beautiful, blue grace that trickles out. It doesn’t take long for the grace to stop flowing, replaced by blood. He closes the vial and presses a tissue to the cut.

Cas takes over, holding it in place as Dean goes to the desk for the small first aid kit he keeps in there. He sits back on the bed taking the tissue away. He cleans up the cut and places a band aid over it. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even. To stay strong for him.

“I’m fine. At least I will be.” He said honestly. He leaned in towards Dean who was quick to wrap his arms around him. “It’s for the best.” He said voice breaking. “I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore.”

Dean held him tight. “It’s ok, Cas, I got you.” He choked. “I love you and I’m here for you whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas gave him a quick kiss, their faces both wet from the tears. “I love you.” He moved to lay down, Dean following him, not willing to let him go. 

As they laid there Cas realized it felt different. He could feel the bed and the sheets in a way he couldn’t before. Dean holding him felt different, he could feel more. He realized that while he was losing senses he would be gaining new ones. Maybe this temporary human thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Tagged by the wonderful @snowviolettwhite! ❤

Been a while since I've done one of these, yay! Here's another snippet from my SPN Classifications AU:

Sam was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he heard what sounded like a door being opened, which was almost immediately followed by the sound of soft, muffled sobbing.

Now really unable to ignore his worry and basic instincts, Sam forced his exhausted body up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sliding his feet into his slippers before standing with a grunt.

He opened his door and slipped out, peering down the dimly lit hallway and immediately spotting Jack. The kid was slowly and stiffly making his way down the hall, carrying what looked like a bundle of sheets and blankets. Seeing this, Sam's Caregiver instincts went into overdrive and the next thing he knew he was speed walking towards the young Nephilim before his brain even registered he was moving.

"Jack?"

Sam kept his voice down but still loud enough for Jack to hear, not wanting to startle him.

The kid still jumped in surprise at the sound of the man's voice, spinning around so fast he almost lost his balance and tripped over the bundle dangling from his arms. Sam was quick to grab Jack by the elbows, stopping him before he could completely lose his footing.

"Woah, easy there, bud. You okay?"

Jack gave a jerky nod once he was righted again. "Y-yeah." He exhaled a shaky breath, briefly leaning closer to the man before seeming to remember the blankets and sheets he held.

"I–I, uh, I can explain," he said, stumbling over his words as he backed out of Sam's grasp and took a couple of careful steps away from the younger Winchester. "I couldn't sleep, so I was just, um, doing some laundry."

Sam's worried expression turned sympathetic. He chose his next words very carefully.

"Jack, kiddo, have you been having nighttime accidents?"

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor, @tryan-a-bex, @si0writes, @deevotee and anyone else who wants to join!

[sammy-the-boyking]

i’m positively foaming at the mouth about all the parallels between jack and sam that they just. put there and didn’t explore whatsoever. both of them being treated like they’re monsters and evil for something that was out of their control (sam with his powers/azazels blood in him, jack just for being lucifer’s son). they both lost their souls. they both hallucinated lucifer during their worst moments. they both were willing and ready to sacrifice themselves to save the world but also specifically to atone for mistakes they’d made and earn deans forgiveness (sam in s5/s8, jack in s15). just. the son of lucifer and lucifer’s true vessel. the nephilim and the boy with the demon blood. do you see. do you see the parallels

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: Game Night w/ Sam Winchester

a/n: if i'm going to be totally honest, i rewrote canon a little bit here because i refuse to accept that dean wouldn't take jack under his wing too, so in this fic, dean serves as a cool uncle.

masterlist | comfortember masterlist | AO3

Ever since Jack had come around, something domestic had awakened in Sam. He was way more fatherly, taking care of Jack like he was his own when shit didn't hit the fan. In a perfect world three hunters, one angel, and a nephilim looked like a family, and in an odd way, you were.

Despite his ever-growing dilf status — Sam hated when you called him that — He would host annual game nights with everyone in the bunker. Tonight, Sam had mistakenly chosen a classic game of uno. You had only said mistakenly because Dean was up to his ass in cards and was about to lose it on the poor Jack.

"Jack, I swear to God!" Dean roared from his side of the table as he picked up a couple of cards until he had gotten a yellow one. "I'm just following what the game told me to do, Dean." Jack said innocently, a large smile on his face. Jack was drawing close to uno, and you could see perspiration forming on Dean's brow, his competitive nature bleeding through the surface. Castiel was kind of lost, so you guys let the man go at his own pace. Sam had a decent amount of cards, and even though he was quite competitive as well, he couldn't help but grin.

"Sammy baby," You whispered to boyfriend, "I think we should end this game before Dean jumps the poor kid." He had an arm drawn around your waist, your bodies side by side as both of your cards were in each other's view. You weren't too worried about him trying to cheat, he was too caught up in the drama that was Dean. "I'm sure Jack will be just fine." He said into your hair, pressing a kiss to the temple of your head. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies, as well as fondness as you stared at your little family.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback

[alexsoenomel]

That Summer Dress (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You have to wear a dress for a case and Dean really likes it *wink*

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: psychotic ghost and sexy times (BJ’s and big O’s) 

Word count: 3104

Note: I wrote this in 2019. Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

“Do you really have to use me as bait?“ I asked while my will to live was slowly leaving my body and soul.

“Hey the ghost likes to kill girls and since both of us have dicks...” Dean said but I cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Case in a nutshell: Not so long ago a serial killer named Ted Bundy existed and he liked to kill women, saying hardcore pornography made him do it (Dean to that: “Yeah right.”). Well, turns out the world is even more fucked up than I thought; he had a fan. A fan so dedicated to keep his notorious legacy alive, he made sure not to cross over when he dies; and he died 10 years ago. He liked to kill pretty girls in fucked up ways, the similarities between his MO and Ted’s were uncanny. His main preference, were girls who wore pretty dresses. After he would kill them, he would keep the dresses, sick bastard. Some say he would put on the dress of his first victim, his wife, every time he would kill. We burnt the body but he was still in his house. So, naturally we decided to go there and see what’s keeping him here, in Tacoma, Washington.

It was 6pm and time for us to get to work. This shitty motel room was slowly driving me mad; I was ready to kick something.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked putting on my backpack.

“(Y/N) are you forgetting something?” Dean then asked me. 

“What?”

“You said it yourself he likes girls in dresses.” Sam said.

Oh shit.

“You really want me to wear a dress? REALLY?”

Dean jokingly told me I would have to wear a dress and also added how hot I would look before we came here; turns out he wasn’t joking. Dean and I were kind of more than just friends. We weren’t together either. Ever since I’ve first met him one night in a bar back home (Lebanon, Kansas) we were drawn to each other. He, of course typical Dean, tried to flirt with me and get in my pants but I wasn’t in the mood. I lost my friend to a vampire that day and I was grieving, with whiskey. He started with small talk which I hate more than anything, but because I was attracted to him I gave him a pass and soon after we found common ground. We were in the same business, liked the same music and overall been through a lot of similar crap. Plus he was SO lucky in the gene department; those green eyes and full pink lips were enough to make me want him under/on top of me. That night we talked for what it seemed like forever, about hunting, life, everything...that night I saw his true colors and he saw mine, which was strange for both of us, considering the fact we don’t open up easily and to just anybody. We didn’t fuck that night though. Oh no, after that I haven’t seen him in 3 long months. He was busy trying to find his angel friend Castiel and nephilim named Jack; and I was busy hunting werewolves in Los Angeles. We would text each other every once in a while but that was it, before, he one day called me asking if I want to join him and his little brother. Of course I said yes. That was and still is one of the greatest discussions I have ever made. Ever since my friend died I’ve been hunting alone and the loneliness was killing me. I still miss her terribly. It was nice having company like Sam and Dean. Sam soon became that friend everyone wishes to have; the one who takes care of you and is always there if you have a problem and Dean, well Dean was your friend’s hot brother you desperately wanted to bang. And I did...one drunken night when we were left alone. Sam was the one who needed to clear his head so he went for a long walk and Dean and I were left to do research for our next case. We were a little hard on that bottle of whiskey Dean had bought that day so we did anything but that. When Sam got back he found us both collapsed in Dean’s bed naked (thank god we were covered with a sheet). The next day was pretty awkward for him. Poor Sammy...

I don’t even remember what we did; I just know he gave me the most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had. It was mind-blowing. We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about it since we have been working 24/7, so this brings us to now... I get jealous every time a girl even looks at Dean in a way I don’t like, and Dean is the same. One time when a guy bought me a drink, Dean just drank it instead of me. So we were friends but there was something more to it...

Back to reality...

“If you want us to get rid of that son of a bitch yeah.” Dean said with an obvious smug on his face.

“But I don’t have one.” I said giving him a bitch face. “I don’t wear dresses.”

“We will go and buy one then.” Sam said.

“Great.” A sarcastic comment was a necessity for me.

Because I was going to wear a dress I decided to put my hair in a pony tail and do my makeup. Well, mascara was the only thing I carried, so put mascara on. We went to a nearest shop where I found the most beautiful summer dress. A little above the knees, white with flowers all over it, covering all the right places, it suited me perfectly. Dean approved as well. When he saw me leaving the shop his jaw hit the floor. He was waiting with Sam outside drinking coffee and almost choked on it. My ego was rising faster than the bulge in his pants.

“What do you think?” I asked them.

“It suits you.” Sam said.

“Nice.” Dean added swallowing nervously. “Okay let’s get to work.”

While Dean was driving I could feel him eyeballing me in the rear-view mirror as much as he could. That man was slowly going mad and I loved it. I hoped this dress lands me a naked Dean Winchester after this case.

When we finally arrived to his house I got chills down my spine. I felt his presence and I was still in the car. When we went inside on the other hand, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, he was there waiting for me. Maybe that’s how he killed all those girls over the years, he was calling for me to go to his bedroom.

“He’s in the bedroom.” I whispered.

“How do you know?” Sam asked tightening the grip around his shotgun. Both, him and Dean had shotguns with rock salt shot rounds while I was stuck with an iron crowbar.

“He’s telling me to come there. Sick bastard.”

“What a ladies’ man.” Dean  added.

Because I was the bait in this whole operation I was the first to enter the room. It was one of those typical bedrooms that you see in horror movies; all wooden, unreasonably tidy and clean with...so many dolls in dresses watching your every move. It was a room of nightmares. Just being in there made the Winchesters and me uncomfortable.

“Now, this guy had a lot of issues.” I heard Dean say, and he was right.

 In that moment I felt someone or something grab my throat which resulted in me dropping the crowbar. He was here. He was old probably in his sixties, gray hair, and psychotic written all over his face and in old dirty clothes. He was tightening the grip around my neck as I felt oxygen leave my brain. “Pretty dress.”- Was the last thing I heard followed by a gunshot before passing out.

****

“Hey (Y/N) are you okay?”

“(Y/N) wake up!”

Dean said a little bit louder as I opened my eyes completely oblivious of what went down.

“Where’s the ghost?”

“We took care of it.” Sam said.

“For real? Is he going to come back?”

“No, turns out the bastard was attached to the dress of the first girl he killed, his wife.” Dean stated. 

“Figures. But where did you find the dress?”

“Sam found it in a glass box in his living room.”

“Oh...wow...Okay, you’re never using me as bait ever again.” Still a little disoriented I gathered all the strength I had in that moment to get up. Dean helped me of course, being a gentleman, not taking his eyes off me.

“Gotcha!” He said.

*****

    When we finally got back to the motel Sam decided he was going to go grocery shopping for the trip back home and later go to a bar. I thought Dean was going to go as well so I can shower and hit the sack (the trip back home was going to last 24 hours and I wasn’t  not much of a sleeper while being on the road because I could never get comfortable) but he decided to stay with me. Maybe now we can finally talk about that night and establish what we are.

When Sam left I couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. I have wanted to talk about this with Dean for so long, constantly thinking about what I will say and how I will approach the subject and now that moment was here and I was scared shitless. I didn’t do that kind of shit, at all. I would usually just sleep with a guy and leave. I don’t have time for relationships nor commitment and Dean was the only one pushing those barely touched buttons (last real relationship I had was back in high school and it didn’t end well; the asshole cheated).

“I thought you are going with Sam to get drunk?” I asked nervously wanting to start a conversation.

“Nah, I can do that here...” He said smirking. “With you.”

Oh...  

“Are you trying to tell me something, Dean?” I asked trying to act confident. God, he was driving me crazy.

“You know what exactly I’m trying to tell you babe.” He said after he took a sip from the beer bottle he opened seconds before. I on the other hand was standing inches away from him leaning against the wall because I was too afraid my knees would give up and I would hit the floor. His voice, his face....his everything....UGH. He was making me feel like I’m 15 and hormonal again. He then proceeded to get even closer to me, eyeballing every inch of me in that dress; practically stripping me naked with his eyes. He put the bottle on the table and went towards me, he was so close I could see every line, freckle and bump on his face. Plus those green eyes...not possible to describe the beauty of them. His right hand was above me while the other found a way to my thigh slowly but surely dragging his fingertip across my skin, slowly lifting my dress. He pinned me down against the wall while I was trying not to completely lose it and tear his clothes off.

“That dress looks perfect on you.” He said.

“You’re not subtle with your eyeballing at all, you know?” As I said that his hand went a little higher slowly brushing his fingers across my already wet panties making me gasp a little and spread my legs. He knew how to open “the gates of heaven” as he called them. Cheeky...

“I couldn’t help it; I was barely controlling myself back there.” He stated as he pressed his forehead against mine. “My dick was so hard when I saw you, it hurt like a bitch.” And then boom, his fingers went in my panties immediately finding my clit and slowly rubbing me with his thump. Holy shit...I forgot just how much I missed his touch. I let out a moan while my eyes never left his. The air was filled with lust and nothing but lust. I couldn’t wait for him to devour me whole.

“Glad you enjoyed the view.” I managed to say. I decided today was my day to play though. I wanted to be in charge so badly so I took his hand out of my panties, kissed his cheek, barely touching the skin, and went to my bed. He followed me like a puppy. I took off my dress reveling my white bra and white panties (and no there were not matching but who cares).

“Is it just me or did you get even hotter?” He asked eyes wide open. He was like a child after Christmas morning. I smiled as my confidence was sky high and pushed him onto the bed. Positioning myself on his lap I pulled on his shirt telling him to lift himself up so I could kiss him. As soon as he did I crashed my lips onto his, and my tongue entered in his mouth, exploring, biting and teasing the shit out of him. My hands were in his hair pulling slightly as his hands went onto my hips desperately trying to tell me to move. I started off with little trusts as my lips attacked his neck. Pretty sure I left many love bites.

“God, I want you.” He said pulling my pony tail to look at me. “You’re driving me crazy woman!”

“Just doing my job, sir.” I said playfully.

Suddenly I found myself in Dean’s arms in the air before he dropped me onto the bed. Wasting no time he took off his clothes, boxers included and boy oh boy how my lungs stopped working. I was in a trance looking at this perfect man who was about to sin with me.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?” I asked while my eyes were on his hard dick scanning every vain and practically drooling.

“Why are you still dressed?”

“Oh...”

Taking off my underwear he took my face and kissed me as he his body was on top of mine. It looked like he thought he was gonna be in charge...oh honey. My hand went and grabbed his dick as I broke the kiss to look at him. He looked at me with confusion all over his face as I said: “My turn.”

He melted instantly. I knew he liked it when someone bosses him around in bed and gives him “sexy rules”-not so long ago we got drunk (like we usually do on a Sunday night) and talked about sex. Before I completely blacked out I remembered him saying something about him being a sub while his brother was laughing his butt off. Poor guy was too drunk to see his brother sitting sober as a bird in the library reading a book.

“Oh...” He managed to say as I pushed him back onto the bed. I kissed every inch of him; lips, neck, collarbones, biting here and there; stomach, going lower and lower. He was breathing heavily, before I reached his dick and licked the tip first; then he lost his mind. He grabbed my pony tail as I took him all in my mouth, moving slowly up and down. Because I didn’t have gag reflex I could take him whole with ease.  Every time I reached the tip I would vacuum slightly making him moan. Those moans were the hottest thing I have ever heard.

“God, that feels so good.” He said trying to stay sane but failing.

I did that a few times before going back up and kissing him again. He was in shock, it looks like he didn’t expect for me to stop. “I don’t want you to cum just yet.” I said.

“Ugh.”

“I love when you’re frustrated.” I giggled.

“I hope it amuses you because it’s killing me.”

I decided to stop playing around and positioned myself on top of his tip as I sat down with ease.  His facial expression changed immediately as I slowly started to move, riding him.

“ Fuck.” He cussed.

Deep breaths and moans filled the room, his hands were on my hips and mine were on my boobs cupping them; preventing them from jumping up and down (It hurts like a bitch after). He begged me to speed up soon after moaning my name over and over again. I could see he wasn’t going to last much longer which exited me because I was close too. Considering the fact I prefer when a man is on top of me this was AMAZING. He was hitting all the right places and I was in heaven.

“Dean I’m close!” I yelled.

“I’m too...oh god.”

Jumping up and down on him I could feel my orgasm approaching. I felt like million bucks as he came first after hitting my g-spot so hard I lost my shit and came after him. I was shaking and couldn’t feel my legs as I collapsed next to him.

“Holy shit.” I said panting.

“What was...” He was still trying to catch his breath.

“Mind-blowing?”

“Best sex I ever had.” He added.

“I think I came so hard my body is dead. I can’t feel my legs at all...nor arms.” I said smiling like an idiot.

“I was that good, huh?” Dean asked with a big ass grin on his face.

“Yes.” 

It finally hit me that we still haven’t had the talk. I really wanted to know where I was with him.

“Hey, um...what are we?” I finally spilled out.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we are friends but we also fuck like animals and get jealous if someone flits with our fuck buddy but-“ I was cut off by his lips on mine. This kiss was different though. It was like he was trying to show me just how much he cared about me; it was much more loving and not driven by lust.

“You’re not just my fuck buddy.” He said breaking the kiss. “I really like you. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time, and I’m scared with the life we live what’s gonna happen but I’m willing to try if you’re too.”

“You know my answer.” I just said and kissed him.

Too bad we didn’t have time for round two because Sam came back early for some reason and found us both naked in my bed. Poor moose was traumatized for the next 2 weeks.    

[awakenthemusic]

Pumpkin Patch

Summary: So you're taking your newly toddler-sized nephilim to a pumpkin patch, what could go wrong?

Tags: Short fic, ~750 words, Destiel, Family Fluff

For Suptober 2023 Day 2 - Pumpkin Patch

Under the cut or on Ao3

“Jack? Jack?” Dean craned his neck to see around a stand of decorative scarecrows and tried not to sweat despite the cool autumn breeze.

Logically, he knew that Jack could take care of himself, knew that he was more powerful than anything that could possibly try to hurt him anymore. Ever since they’d defeated Chuck, for good this time, there wasn’t much that could harm Jack. Still, since Jack had decided that things were safe enough for him to revert back to looking his actual age, Dean couldn’t help but feel protective of him. The kid wasn’t even five years old yet, for fuck’s sake.

Now, they were on a family outing to the local pumpkin patch, and Dean had lost sight of the little monster.

Just as he was about to call for Jack again, he heard Jack’s excited, squeaky little toddler voice call, “Dean!”

Dean turned and breathed a quick sigh of relief to see Jack in one piece, his tiny little hands wrapped around the stem of… one of the largest pumpkins Dean had ever seen in his life… the pumpkin that Jack was carrying completely unassisted, though it was wider than Jack was tall.

“Oh my god,” Someone breathed behind Dean in shock.

He turned to find Lydia, owner of the best bakery in town (that is, the one with the best pies, of course), standing in the middle of a group of the smaller pie pumpkins and gaping open-mouthed at the spectacle of a five-year-old showcasing his superhuman strength.

Dean let out an exasperated huff and fought the urge to face-palm. How many times did they have to remind Jack to blend in?

Before Dean could try to smooth things over, somehow, Cas came jogging up behind Jack, looking more frazzled than usual. “There you are, Jack, how many time have I told you not to go wanderi—” Cas stumbled to a halt, wide eyes going between Jack, Dean, and Lydia before zooming back to the incriminating pumpkin.

All three adults froze.

While they stood in the middle of a social standoff, Jack finished toddling over to Dean, gently placed the pumpkin at his feet with a heavy thump Dean could feel in the ground, and raised his arms in the universal toddler demand to be picked up.

Dean stooped down to hoist Jack into his arms, mind racing to find some way to salvage the situation.

Jack proclaimed proudly, “I found the perfect pumpkin, Dean! We can make so many pies out of it!”

Dean stared down at the pumpkin, at a complete loss for words. It really was a ridiculously perfect-looking pumpkin, very symmetrical, with a beautifully-even deep orange color. It looked almost too perfect…

Dean burst out laughing as the answer slotted easily into place.

He spun Jack around in a circle and said, “You sure did find a perfect pumpkin, buddy. I think its made of Styrofoam!”

Jack frowned, ready to correct him, but Dean shook his head and Jack kept his mouth shut. Jack's face fell when he realized they had an audience, his excited grin falling into a worried frown.

Dean plastered a smile back on his face and turned to Cas. “Sweetheart, would you take this fake, very light pumpkin back to whatever display this little troublemaker took it from?” He winked at Jack and tickled him until he smiled again.

“Right,” Cas said, catching on quickly. “I’ll just…” He lifted the pumpkin, which had to be thirty pounds if it was an ounce, like it weighed nothing. He even used it to give Lydia a jaunty little wave as he retreated back into the field from which he and Jack had emerged.

Dean watched Cas stroll away and tried not to drool at the reminder of just how strong Cas was.

Lydia breathed out a relieved laugh, a chagrined smile on her face. She leaned over to Dean and said quietly, “You know, for a second there, I almost thought…” She shook her head, turning her attention to Jack. “If you want to make pies, you want one of these smaller pumpkins over here, the big ones taste terrible, especially the fake ones!”

Dean set a squirming Jack down so he could critically eye the significantly smaller pumpkins with Lydia. 

A few minutes later, Dean let out a relieved sigh when Cas returned to slip an arm around his waist. “Did you make it back alright?”

“Yes, but you should have seen the owner’s face when he saw me strolling around with one of his prize pumpkins under my arm.”

[queermania]

And👏this👏is👏why👏Dean👏was👏out👏of👏character👏in👏season👏13-15👏

i disagree. taking a character and pushing him to his breaking point isn't writing him out of character. the issue isn't that dean's behavior was out of character. it's that it wasn't portrayed effectively. instead of wearing him down slowly over the course of a few seasons and having him get progressively worse, they had him going back and forth between being Fine™ and being Angry™. and realistically, that is how trauma works, but for a television show it just made it feel like his reactions to things were disproportionate or that they came out of nowhere, when they really really did not.

the main issue people have is his relationship with jack. dean wanting to kill jack at the beginning of s13 is not all that out of character. from his perspective, a nephilim (which he's told is an abomination that needs to be destroyed) is conceived via lucifer (which, i mean, it really shouldn't matter who the angel was but i'm not gonna pretend like the show didn't make it into a Whole Thing so whatever). cas says it's of paramount importance that the nephilim be aborted. the nephilim brainwashes both kelly and cas and now cas will stop at nothing to protect it. the nephilim tears the fabric of the universe, which basically summons lucifer to their location. crowley sacrifices himself to repair the tear. cas dies. mary dies. jack is not a baby. he's a fully grown being with glowing eyes and unimaginable power. now, is that everything that happened and is it everything that matters? no, of course not. but we have the benefit of not living that reality; we can be a lot more objective. so a grief-stricken dean who's just lost three of the most important people in the world to him is obviously not thinking rationally or even compassionately about what he sees as a monster (not a newborn baby). the way dean treats jack directly and indirectly during the widower arc is not okay but it's not out of character.

but then dean starts to warm up to jack and then cas comes back and it's fine. they're fine. dean and jack are cool, good even. but then jack burns off his soul and accidentally kills mary and dean does... all of that. and i'm not going to rehash the events leading up to 'moriah' again because i've already spent a lot of time talking about it, but his behavior during that time isn't out of character. it all makes sense. it's just that we've kind of already done this, just on a smaller scale. dean was angry with jack and then they were good but now he's back to being angry again. so it feels a little off.

but then chuck kills jack and dean is still angry so he lashes out at cas (and again, i'm not going to rehash this because i've already done it) but again, it's not out of character. it's the culmination of a decade's worth of shit. but they make up and then jack comes back. and things are understandably awkward between them but dean's not angry. he even saves jack from mrs. buttersworth.

but then chuck stuff starts happening again and billie offers a plan that requires jack to sacrifice himself and dean is like okay and then things get super intense in 'unity' and again dean is yelling at any and everyone.

and none of that is out of character. it's just that it feels like it comes out of nowhere because he's been so calm for so long. it doesn't feel like it's all building to that point in 'unity.' it just feels like they keep throwing spaghetti at the wall to make dean mad and then when he does get mad, the characters around him and the fandom are like 'there he go again being mad' despite constantly being put in situations constructed to make him mad.

i will concede that there are a couple of writers who wrote him out of character and their episodes/certain lines stick out pretty obviously to me. but. you know. that's not unique to dabb era.

the only thing that is fully out of character is the gun to kaia's head, and given that kaia gets over it almost immediately and then runs into dean's arms when they rescue her from the bad place, i choose to pretend it didn't happen at all. it was just a narrative device to move the plot along. (and also it was written by one of the people who writes him ooc more often than not).

[hellerradio]

It’s Season 13, time to be sad! With Cas, Mary, and Crowley all taken in one fell swoop, Dean is left a completely broken man, and Sam is now becoming a Jedi master to our sweet, unpredictable nephilim baby, Jack. Surely nothing will go wrong, so let’s talk about it! 🤜🏻

TW for discussion of suicidal themes

➡️ Listen here!

Episodes discussed:

13x1 - Lost and Found

13x3 - Patience

13x4 - The Big Empty

[criticizing-blogger]

A Christmas Miracle

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: false positive pregnancy test, unable to have children, depression, sexual themes, puking

Word count: 3473

A/N: I wanted to write something so sweet, it rots your teeth. So, yes, it’s very fluffy but it’s also angsty. I described the bunker bathroom as well as I could and tried to remember who was still alive towards kinda the end of the series (last season I watched was 12 I think and don’t really remember anything) so if I get something wrong, I apologize. Please read at your own discretion.

  The smell of coffee wafts through the air of the bunker. The aroma reaches (y/n)’s bedroom, waking her. Stretching, she lets out a loud yawn. The cold air nips at her skin as she pushes the thick blankets away. As the goosebumps rise on her body, she makes her way out of the bedroom.

Her nose picked up the smell of pancakes and bacon making her mouth water. Pancakes were always her favorite breakfast food growing up and still are. She reached the kitchen to see Jack shoving food into his mouth. Sam sat on the other side of the table drinking coffee while talking to Cas who sat next to him but across the Nephilim. Dean stood at the stove whistling AC/DC. She smiles at the sight as she walks in.

(Y/n) ruffles Jack’s hair. He looked up and grinned happily before paying attention back to his breakfast. She kisses Sam’s and Cas’s heads before making her way to her husband. She wraps her arms around his waist and lays her head on his back. Dean adoringly smiles and lightly sways side to side as he finishes cooking. He switches the stove off and sets the remaining pancakes and bacon with the rest of the food.

She loosens her grip letting him turn around. Her hands rest on his waist as his hands cup her soft, rosy cheeks. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Dean replied and kisses her. “Go sit. I’ll make you a plate.”

She sits next to Jack who was still shoving food into his mouth; the plate was almost empty. “Slow down, kid. Before you choke.”

He smiles with a mouth full of pancakes. She lets out a laugh. He reminded her of Dean. Always shoving food down their throats whenever they eat. As if they never had food before. Her attention breaks as a plate set down in front of her. Dean sits down next to her with his plate.

While (y/n) ate, she tried not to show any signs of breaking down. It was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year. She knew she needed to be joyful: elated even. But there was something trying to hold not only her back to enjoy the holidays this year but also Dean.

For five years, Dean and (y/n) spent as much time as they could trying for a baby. They felt ready. Not that they wanted to bring a child into this monster-hunting world but didn’t want to let that rob them of their deserved joy. The only concern, she wasn’t getting pregnant. Each and every test she took never once showed two lines.

She lost count of how many doctors she has been to. They all have said the same thing. “I can’t find anything wrong.” She then would leave and sob in her car before returning to Sam and Dean. She would wait for Dean to fall asleep before silently crying herself to sleep. To make sure no one noticed her blood-red eyes and swollen face, she’d wake up before anyone else (other than the angel who never sleeps) or stay clear of anyone until her face went back to normal. Dean felt angry. Not at her or himself, but at the problem of not being able to get pregnant.

Dean gently cupped her soft cheek, breaking the woman from her thoughts. She smiled showing him she's okay. He then took their plates to wash them. Sam, Castiel, and Jack were already gone, she noticed. Standing, she said, “I’m going to shower.” And with that, she left without waiting for a reply.

Grabbing a simple outfit consisting of a pair of black underwear, black leggings, and a red long-sleeve sweater. The bathroom was only a few doors down from their shared bedroom. It was kept stocked with bathroom essentials like shampoo and conditioner, soap and towels, and so on. There stood three showers next to each other with curtains for privacy. Sinks sat across the room. On the right side of the room when you first walk in were toilets; a wall sitting in between the toilets and the showers.

She sat her clothes on the bench to the left of the door and gently closed it. She undressed, dropping her current outfit on the floor in front of the bench. She made her way over to the shower ready to be enveloped in its warmth. The steam of the hot water fills the bathroom as she steps into the second shower stall, closing the curtain. She stood under the water letting it warm her cold body. The warmth of it closed its arms around her in comfort. 

Once she was finished showering and dressing, she took care of the dirty laundry. She was thankful for a large laundry room. She was so used to a small one growing up. Her legs carried her back into the kitchen. After showering, the woman decided she needed coffee just to get through today. She still has a few gifts for Jack to wrap. Tonight, as a tradition she always did as a child and once she moved in with Sam, Dean, and Cas, they will open one gift each. 

She bought Dean the full eight seasons of Game of Thrones (let's pretend the last couple of seasons weren’t shitty). Ever since he, Charlie, and Sam watched it together, he's been wanting all the seasons. Dean and Charlie finished the series before Charlie’s passing as Sam read the books. Dean was too impatient to wait for his brother to finish the books so he went on watching the show.

Sam, which she was more excited to give him his gifts tonight than anyone else, will get the first editions of The Lord Of The Rings trilogy signed by the author. Sam was into collecting first editions of books. He already owns quite a few but doesn’t have The Lord Of The Ring's first editions yet. She knew it was one of the few favorite books he loved growing up.

Castiel was difficult. But, an idea came to mind when she was doing everyone’s laundry. What is one thing each and every Winchester owns? A flannel. And she had the perfect one in mind. It may just be a shirt to some people but it meant a lot to her. All the years she's known Sam and Dean, she rarely ever saw them without flannels. It was like symbolism for the Winchesters. All Winchesters owned one. Before she married Dean, he and Sam gifted her one. And now, she wanted to give Cas one. Cas is an honorary Winchester.

Now Jack was easy. Anything and everything fascinated him. One thing he is really into, thanks to Sam, is Star Wars. So she bought all the seasons that also came with deleted scenes, interviews with the cast, and a poster with all the characters on it. She wanted to give him a lightsaber but didn’t think that would turn out well. Not because of Jack, but because she had a feeling that Dean would take it to play with it and break something. Like he did one day with a sword that hung on the wall of the library. That’s another story.

Dean was still in the kitchen sipping from his mug while on his phone. She went to stand next to him and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. As she poured herself some coffee, she could feel how tense it was between them. She felt what was going on between them was her fault as Dean felt like it was his. Neither of them told the other. As the months went on these last few years, they slowly shied away from each other, unsure of how to handle not being able to have a child.

She sighs into her cup, feeling like she should say something. Before she could get a word out, he spoke, “it’s not your fault, (y/n).”

She turned her head to look at him. “It’s not your’s either, Dean.”

He grabbed her mug and set it down along with his and his phone. Dean gently pulled her body into his, wrapping his arms around her. Her arms wrap around his waist, tears forming in her eyes. Dean’s shirt soaks up the falling tears. The pain from not being able to have a child sticks with you for many, many years. The one thing they both fear is having to deal with what comes along with the pain. But they both know they have each other. 

Dean pulls away, his hands reaching for her cheeks as he wipes her tears. “Come on. We still have wrapping and cooking to do. Jody and the girls will be here soon. Unfortunately, Crowley and Rowena. Remind me why we invited them?”

(Y/n) giggles as she looks up at her husband. “He’s been in our lives for so long. He has helped us so much and even saved us who knows how many times. Crowley has done a lot for us. I think we should show him some appreciation. Plus, he’ll love what I got him. Same with Rowena even though I’m still a little suspicious of her.”

He lets his arms fall from her face and to picking up their mugs handing her cup back. She took a sip before answering, “I got Crowley the Vanora Black Whiskey Collection-” Dean raised a hand as he opened his mouth to speak but she cuts him off- “Don’t ask how I got it. You don’t want to know. Rowena, I got her a necklace from an auction years ago. I thought it would be perfect for her than me since I’m not a witch. It’s a Victorian Cabochon necklace.”

“So, what did you get me?” 

She seductively smiles and grips his shirt. Standing on her toes, her voice smooth and low, “You really want to know?”

He nods as his heart rate starts to pick up and throbbing appears down below. His hand tightly held onto his cup, trying his hardest not to break it. She kissed his neck before whispering into his ear again, “I’m not telling you.” And with that, she walks out of the kitchen with a grin on her face as she sips her drink as Dean stands there sexually frustrated.

* * * * *

It was later in the evening just as (y/n) was done making pies from scratch. She had made two pumpkin pies, two apples (one for ‘I don’t share my pie’ Dean) a turtle pecan, a banana cream pie, and one chocolate raspberry. In between baking pies, she made pitchers of eggnog. One with bourbon for the adults and one alcohol-free for Jack since she doesn’t quite trust him with an ounce of alcohol yet. Jody, Claire, and Alex had arrived hours ago. Jody and Alex had come into the kitchen and helped make snickerdoodle cookies and Christmas-shaped sugar cookies while (y/n) worked on the pie.

When Jody walked in, (y/n) hands were kneading the dough as the older woman gave her a hug. “Hey, (y/n).”

“Hey,” she looked at her, a happy grin appearing on her face. “How have you and the girls been?”

“Good. Claire has been hunting and Alex is loving being a nurse.” She replies. Leaning against the counter. “Hey, why isn’t Dean in here helping you?”

“Have you met him? We won’t even be able to get anything done. We’ll just end up throwing flour at each other.” They both laugh knowing she’s right just as Alex walks in.

“Hey,” (y/n) smiles at her. “Wanna help?”

“Sure.” Alex smiles back as she and Jody get to work.

Here everyone was, even Crowley and Rowena, in the middle of the library seated at a table. Everyone was happy, grinning, and laughing and that makes her heart swell. Right here in this very room was her family. People who care and love her. Jody was like a mother to her and the boys. Since the moment they met, Jody knew (y/n) was a good person and instantly took a liking to her unlike she has with lots of people. Sam was like her brother. It took a while for the two to trust each other and once they have, a close bond grew. 

When she first met Castiel, she, Sam, and Dean were in a motel for a hunt. She was researching while sitting on one of the motel beds when Cas randomly popped in. She freaked and ended up falling off of it. Sam and Dean were laughing their asses off while Cas just stood there. It wasn’t funny then but thinking back now, it’s pretty hilarious. Soon after learning that demons and angels are actually real and seeing Cas struggle to understand humans, she offered him a deal. She teaches him about human life if he teaches her about angels. 

She signaled Dean with her finger to follow her and the two snuck down the hall and into the room where she kept the gifts hidden. They both could hear laughing the further they walked down the hall. That made her smile. They reached the very last door. It was filled with only the presents everyone was going to open tonight. The rest sat under the tree. She was really excited to give everyone their gifts. She couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces. Later tonight though, when everyone went to their respective rooms, Dean will be given an extra gift. She has a hidden box under the bed on her side. Something she will be putting on later when they are alone. Her heart started pounding with the excitement of what was to come tonight.

After grabbing the gifts and making their way back to the others, Jack notices the two coming in. A big smile appears on his face as his eyes light up. He points over at them and everyone else looks over, surprised. Cheers went around the room as the married couple handed out the presents. Jack couldn’t sit still in his seat as he waited for his gift. (Y/N) giggled at him as she handed it over. Sam, Dean, and Cas knew they would be getting gifts the day of Christmas Eve. Nobody, not even Jack who is new to this world, knew they were getting anything tonight.

Most of all, (y/n) didn’t know she was getting anything to open. She never has after meeting the Winchesters, which she was fine with. Claire had left the room and came back with a small red-wrapped box and set it down in front of her. She looked at everyone, confusion written all over her face. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you,” Sam starts. “With the help of Jody” -who was watching both Sam and Dean- “we realized that we never once got you something to open on Christmas Eve. So, we all decided to chip in and might’ve gotten the perfect thing. Open it.”

She smiles in appreciation and rips the wrapping off to reveal a rectangular, burgundy velvet box. She carefully opened it revealing a silver bracelet with different-shaped charms. The first charm was a stack of books representing Sam. Next to it hung a pie. Which obviously was Dean. The next two were a pair of angel wings, Castiel, and a nougat bar, Jack, that made her laugh. Jack does love nougat. The last two were a triangle intertwined with a heart representing Jody and the girls and the anti-possession tattoo with wings. The last one made her tear up. It represented the Winchesters. And everyone in this room is and always will be a Winchester.

Dean came over and helped her put it on. She admired the bracelet as she twirled her wrist around. “Thank you, everyone. I love it.”

The night went on. One gift at a time was opened as (y/n) captured it on her phone. Dean was excited to watch GOT and Sam, who usually never shows his excitement, was smiling ear to ear. She knew he was gonna be staying up reading. The second Jack opened his present, his eyes lit up in excitement. He said thank you and went back to staring at his gift with the biggest grin. When Crowley opened his present, he tried to keep his face neutral but eventually gave up and smiled. 

Rowena even gave (y/n) a hug and left. Rowena wasn’t actually too bad anymore. Surprisingly, she’s been trying to redeem herself as a mother and as a person for months now. She’s, also, has gone to (Y/n) for advice on how to be a decent person. She trusted the witch enough to not make any mistakes using the necklace. We’ll see how that goes. Claire and Alex loved what they got. (Y/n) thought, like a lot of hunters, Claire could use a journal. It was a dark brown leatherbound journal. 

Alex had gotten into the show Grey’s Anatomy. So, she got a nursing uniform with the heartbeat logo on the left side of the shirt. And Jody, since Dean broke the last one and refuses to admit it, got a new gun. Lastly, Cas. He opened his gift for once without saying something about why wrap gifts if it’s going to be torn off anyway. He rolled out the blue and white flannel shirt and immediately smiled. She knew he understood the importance of the shirt. “Thank you.”

 After opening gifts and finishing drinks, Crowley left and everybody else went to bed, except for Dean and (y/n). They stayed up to clean. She stood at the sink washing as he stood next to her drying.  “Can you finish up for me?” she asked. Dean nodded and took over her spot as she dried her hands and left the room. She kept her pace normal when leaving the kitchen but bolted for the bedroom the second she was out of sight. The woman knew she didn’t have much time if she was gonna surprise her husband. She quietly shut the bedroom door and grabbed the box out from under the bed. 

Giddy, she took off the lid and took out the contents, laying them neatly on the bed. She tore off her clothes and changed into the ones on the bed. Dean was gonna love this. She dabbed perfume, the one Dean really loves, on her wrists and neck. In the tall mirror that sat on the right side of the room, she checked to make sure her outfit was right and fixed her hair. Her heart started pounding as she thought of what Dean was gonna do to her tonight. 

The second she heard Dean making his way to the room, she set the box on the floor and lay on the bed. Thoughts about being unable to have a child made their way into her mind. Pushing them back, she waited for him to arrive. When he did, he lowly whistled as he raked his eyes over her red-clad lingerie-covered body. He shut the door and locked it. “This is a nice surprise.”

“You like?” she seductively asks.

“I love.” And with that, they had a busy, busy night.

* * * * *

It was nearing the end of the month when (y/n) rushed out of bed and into the bathroom. The contents she ate the night before landing in the bowl of the toilet. After a few minutes when she felt like she was done, she brushed her teeth and headed for the door. But a strong feeling stopped her from leaving the bathroom.

She turns around, her eyes landing on the bathroom cabinet. She headed to it and opened it up and looked until she found what she needed. A box of pregnancy tests. (Y/n) grabbed a test out of the box and locks the bathroom door.

After three minutes of sitting on the floor back against the wall and with the stick in her hands, two vibrant pink lines show. Her heart raced as excitement and joy filled her body. Tears of happiness fell down her face. She quickly stood from the floor and runs out of the room and into her’s and Dean’s bedroom. 

(Y/n) jumps on the bed waking Dean up. When he saw the tears running down her face, he quickly sat up taking her face gently into his hands. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She wiped her face before smiling. She felt speechless but in a good way. Instead of saying something, she handed him the test. She watched as his face went from confusion to utter and complete happiness. Dean wrapped his arms around her as she did the same to him.

Neither couldn’t believe this was happening. This was a definition of a Christmas miracle.

[dothwrites]

for those of you who don't like metallica then i'm sorry but the s13 'nothing else matters' opening is STILL the best opening.

spn really said "welcome alcal, now be NEKKID on your first full episode"

and the way that dean can't even SAY what happened to cas. he tries and he can't get the words out because it's still TOO close. and you never see the difference between sam and dean in how they relate to cas and grief more than in the widower arc. sam is kinda bummed, but dean can't find which way is up. he's completely spinning out, meanwhile sam is... kinda bummed.

which is how they relate to grief. dean puts on a good show, but in the end, sam is the one who can compartmentalize a lot better. sam can put things aside to get what he considers the mission done. dean can't. his emotions are too powerful.

jack, my sweet baby nougat boy. i loved ye from the second i saw you in a funny little jacket. this poor small town sheriff and her stoner son are SO ill-equipped to deal with this.

the impala being the dirtiest that we've ever seen it... dean being the most grief-stricken we've ever seen him... i've connected the two dots.

poor jack... he's only been alive for like four hours and already the angels are torturing him. it's hard to be the antichrist nephilim.

and i do love that they had sam bond with jack over their shared heritage of "everyone believes that i'm going to grow up to become the devil and i don't wanna". it's something that sam doesn't get to do a lot of.

and the second that jack said "castiel is my father" we all fell in love with him and trusted him implicitly. well. at least i did.

and then dean's "anything?" and the angel realizing IMMEDIATELY what dean means... that he's searching for any way possible to bring cas back and he's desperate to do it... i am FERAL for the widower arc.

dean's insistence to believe that jack is evil for as long as cas is dead is... something. and dean never quite reconciled those feelings that he had at the very beginning, where he equated jack with the loss and horror of knowing that cas was gone. to dean, jack and that grief are always kind of the same thing, and he can't get over it.

dean's prayer. DEAN'S PRAYER. "we've lost EVERYTHING." and then his complete self destructive breakdown once he realizes that no one's listening. he's LOST and he doesn't know how to make any of it right.

thanks to the blooper reel i can never watch this horrifically emotional scene of dean preparing cas' body (his LOVER'S body) for the pyre and becoming so overcome with grief that he has to pause... i cannot watch that without thinking of the ball tap. fuck you jensen and misha.

jensen's ability to look absolutely DEVASTATED without shedding a tear. unparalleled.

[amaranthhiding]

I saw these posters in my head for various combinations of SPN characters who appear in my fic Empty Earth, and I thought they'd be fun to actually see on screen. So I went unhinged and made them.

Most of these are serious, but some are complete crack.

Destiel:

He lost a deal - he found Truth. He lost his best friend - he found Despair. (Episode 15x18 "Despair" was originally meant to be named "The Truth".)

===

Samwena:

He lost his hope - he found his power. She lost her throne - she found her heart.

more posters under the cut

He lost his shoe - she lost hers, too.

===

Jack + Crowley:

He lost his family - he found a demon. He lost everything - he found a nephilim.

===

Castiel + HunterCorp Dean:

He lost his body - He lost his world. He found a new one.

===

HunterCorp Sam and Dean:

He didn't lost the man bun - his hair is sacred. He lost his soul - what the heck!

===

Michael + Adam:

He lost his purpose - he found his guide. He lost his body - he found his soul. ===

He lost his sword - he found this guy. He lost nine years - he found this fry. ===

Meg + Balthazar:

She lost her name - she found an angel. He lost his way - he found an army.

===

Mick + Ketch:

He lost his life - he lost his job. He found his courage - he found himself.

===

Gabriel + Ash:

He lost his grace - he found a void. He lost his life - he's cool with it.

===

Kevin + Naomi:

He lost his mind - he found a ghost. She lost the host - she found a mind.

===

Mary + John:

She lost her past - she found the future. He lost his wife - he found his doom.

===

Chuck + Amara:

He lost control - he found enemies. She lost herself - she found a prison.

===

Note: Several of these combinations are not meant as romantic pairings. They just ended up in the same place at the same time in my story. Or they don't even interact, but their character arcs either have something in common or are polar opposites. You know.

(In other words, I just threw characters together into one pic on a whim because It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time.)

I know, I know, I'm crazy for making so many of these, lol. But I injured my leg and can't walk right now, so I needed the distraction.

And I kept thinking "But what about these characters? Don't they deserve a poster, too?"

If seeing these posters made you curious, Empty Earth is on AO3.