#the way sam responds to both…the way he craves dean’s care and takes his punches…it’s so f*cked up but like in a deliciously angsty way

[lambmotifz]

losing my mind thinking about how dean can be both so gentle yet so violent with sam. he can hit him till his face is bruised and he can tenderly cradle his face as if sam is the most fragile and precious thing in the world. it makes me insane

[mattzerella-sticks]

Unwrap Me (1.4k, Dean Winchester/Castiel, M)

ao3 link

Dean never thought he would make it this far. Nor would he have as many wonderful things that he has now. A home, friends, family, and most importantly love. With a former angel.

Given how normal his life is now, Dean decides he wants to go all out celebrating Christmas. Parties, feasts, and the perfect presents. He wants to get Cas something that will translate everything that resides in his heart. Dean believes he has the right gift, but decides against leading with it. Instead surprising Cas with it after showing him his Christmas best.

Although, during his entire time planning Cas's present, he never wondered what Cas got him...

           Dean adjusts the ribbon wrapped around his waist, tastefully covering his half-hard cock with a large bow; its tails draped over his balls. Assured he looks perfect, Dean turns from the mirror. Texts Cas, letting him know his present is finally ready.

           Cas ☀ (11:45 p.m.): Be there soon. Helping Sam with research.

           “Sammy…” Sighing, Dean sets his phone down on the nightstand closest to his side. “Think you’d take even the smallest break today, since it’s Christmas.”

           Almost Christmas, at least. In fifteen minutes. But before they exchange gifts with their family next morning, Dean and Cas discussed a more intimate setting where they can unwrap each other’s presents. Given how this is the first year they’ll celebrate Christmas as a couple, Dean wanted some privacy. Not solely because of his attire. The lacy ribbon smokescreen for Cas’s real present, safely tucked inside his drawers. And, if well received, his outfit will help perfectly transition into a holiday tradition Dean hopes last many years.

           But, until Sam frees his boyfriend from work, he must wait. “What’s the point of being retired if we’re still cracking open lore?” Dean collapses onto the bed, disturbing scattered rose petals.

           Seconds later, someone knocks at the door. “Dean?” Cas asks, voice muffled, “Is it okay for me to come in?”

           Dean flew forward, cursing under breath. Then muttering prayers how Cas followed his instructions about knocking first. “Gimme a sec, Cas!” Dean tapped his phone, quickly finding the song he downloaded specifically for this moment. Orville Peck’s smooth baritone filtered through speakers he installed earlier, singing ‘Roses Are Falling’. Dean crawls towards the center of his mattress, sitting, cushioned by pillows. Scoops a few petals and peppering his legs with them. “Right!” he calls, stretching languidly, “You can come in!”

           Cas enters, and suddenly Dean’s carefully perfected smolder is extinguished. He throws a hand across his face, hiding his wide grin. Snorts and ducks his head, gaze still trained on his boyfriend.

           “Huh,” Cas says, “I guess great minds do think alike…”

           Dean watches Cas’s hands fall, trench coat parting open like curtains. Reveals a similar ribbon covering his genitals. Though while Dean’s was red, Cas chose green. It matched his boots and novelty cowboy hat: both dyed the same color as Cas’s ribbon. “Yeah,” Dean chuckles while Peck continues his serenade, “I guess so.”

           “I reckon so,” Cas corrects, drawl forcing a shiver up his spine. Visibly, judging Cas’s smug expression. Rolling his eyes, Dean climbs off the bed and advances.

           “Close the door,” he tells Cas, “don’t want to give Sam the gift of trauma.” Then, standing inches from Cas, he amends his previous statement. “More trauma,” he smirks.

           Cas shuts away the outside world, leaving only them. Dean guides Cas’s trench coat off his shoulders, tossing it aside when able. They tear away ribbon, both strips landing in a tangled mess at their feet. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, kissing him. “Merry Christmas,” he whispers.

           Grip firm along Dean’s hip, Cas guides Dean closer. Chests pressed together, hearts beating the same song. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

           Playing with the hairs at Cas’s nape, Dean breathes a confession against his neck. “I have another present for you.”

           “You do?” Cas’s fingers tease at his hole, searching, “It doesn’t feel like you do…”

           “Dog.” Dean shoves him off, laughing. “Is sex all you have on your brain?”

           “Forgive me, Dean, but when the most gorgeous man in the entire universe is in my arms – naked – my body succumbs to its most base instincts.” He squeezes at his stiff cock, smirking. “See?”

           Blushing, Dean ignores Cas’s attempts at baiting him. Knocks his hat off with a pointed flick. “Lose the boots, cowboy, and go lay down.”

           Cas obeys, trailing behind him. “I thought you said sex wasn’t your gift?”

           “Are you even curious about what I have?” Dean asks, hovering by his nightstand, “Because I can sit on your dick right now and I can put your real present away for your birthday.” Expression schooled into strenuous thought, he continues, “When is that again?”

           “Okay, okay, I get it…” Cas lies on his side, blue eyes shining with mirth. Like the ocean glittering from the rising sun. “I’ll be quiet, starting… now.”

           Dean sighs, doubtful Cas will keep that promise, but rummages through his drawers for Cas’s present regardless. He finds it well hidden, covered by an old car magazine he saved. Clutching it in his palm, Dean joins Cas. Kneels beside him, excitement wreaking havoc with his nerves. Bouncing, shoulders raised high, neck disappearing, and cheeks straining from his smile, Dean holds a fist out to an expectant Cas.

           “Cas,” he begins, “I – uh… well, I know we only started dating pretty recently, but I’ve loved you way, way longer than that.”

           “I know,” Cas interrupts, sliding his hand under Dean’s chin, cupping it. “You explained so after Jack plucked me from the Empty, right after punching me for making another ‘idiotic deal’, your words… and before our first kiss.” Dean’s joyful spirit flickers, glare piercing. Cas responds with apologetic crinkles, “You’re right… you’re right… quiet now.”

           “Anyway,” Dean continues, “it might seem like we did this all ass-backwards, but I could care less how we got here since here means you and I, together. We get to do whatever we want with the rest of our lives and… there’s no one I’d rather have at my side. In my passenger seat, or – when I’m tired, and need to lay my weary head to rest – on the wheel.” His fingers unfurl like spring flowers, a silver key nestled in his palm. Cas gasps, stare darting between it and Dean. “It’s not a ring,” he says, “because what’s the point in those if we’re legally dead. Besides, we’ve spent so many years running around in circles… never saying what we should have… I’d hate for that to be the symbol of our relationship. This, though, I… Baby’s mine. But –“

           “But you want her to be ours?” Cas finishes, forefinger gently stroking the key. He freezes, wincing at Dean, “Sorry, I did it again.”

           Dean relaxes, handing Cas’s key over. “Nah, I was pretty much done, anyhow.”

           Cas accepts his gift, then launches himself forward. Kisses Dean passionately, embrace drawn long enough that when they break both men pant. “This makes my gift look worse, by comparison, you realize,” he says, squinting, “you thoughtful, romantic bastard. Making me look like a tool.”

           “Hey, I happen to like what you got me,” Dean laughs, smoothing stray hairs from Cas’s temple. His other hand trails lower, brushing his boyfriend’s pubic patch. “Exactly what I’ve been craving.”

           Cas noses at Dean’s cheek, growling. “Oh, has it?”

           “Yep.” He pops the ‘p’, scratching Cas’s scalp while stubble scrapes freckled skin. “Think maybe I can get a taste of your candy cane, sunshine?”

           Laying a hand on Dean’s hand closest to his dick, Cas surprises him by removing it. “Maybe later.”

           “Later?”

           “I’d rather go for a drive,” he suggests, brandishing his new key, “wouldn’t that sound like a nice Christmas treat?”

           “Driving? Now?” Dean splutters, objections loaded like bullets in a gun. However, Cas tilts the argument in his favor, blue eyes wide and soft as if he were a puppy. A dirty trick played during battles Cas knew he would lose. Dean’s defenses crumbled, those bullets clattering on the floor. “I… guess we can. Never too early to get you and Baby better acquainted.” He rises, mournful, “Guess I better find some pants –“

           Cas grabs his wrist, stopping him. “No, Dean,” he says, “there’s no time!” He drags Dean out, ignoring all Dean’s squawked protests. Orville’s voice echoing, phone abandoned in their haste. “We have to drive like this!” he insists.

           “Naked?” Dean hisses, glancing around in case they run across wandering house guests. Any of their extended family Dean stupidly invited to celebrate Christmas with them. “Seriously Cas, why wouldn’t you let me put clothes on? It’s December, it’ll be freezing on the road!”

           Cas pauses at the bend of a corner, frowning. “I doubt it’ll be that cold,” he says. Then, feigned innocence fades into a leer. “If it is, I’m sure we can find ways to stay warm inside Baby. Maybe even fog up her windows…?”

           “A dog,” Dean shakes his head, cheeks ruddy with restrained laughter. “A no-good, conniving hound!” Stomping ahead of him, Dean leads Cas elsewhere. “I know a quicker way to the garage.”

           “I love you.”

           “I love you, too.”

[samwinlover-blog]

Completely Soulless

Pairing: Sam x Reader  Characters: Sam, Reader, Dean  Warnings: violence, soulless!sam, swearing, all the angst Summary: Sam’s soulless and couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, including his long time girlfriend, the Reader. She’s at her wits end and doesn’t know how much longer she can put up with him.  Tag list: @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione @mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@27bmm@craving-cas @spnfanficpond​ @amanda-teaches  @myplaceofthingsilove  @spectaculicious@bambinovak @bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@padackles2010 @mamaredd123@milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean@zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @spntrista @d-s-winchester@just-another-busy-fangirl@winchesterprincessbride@waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sandlee44@fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage @evyiione @winchestersmut@purgatoan@mogaruke @therewillbeblood @megansescape @taste-of-dean@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid  @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56@wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining@fangirlextraordinaire@itseverythingilike@jesspfly@lovekittykat21@mysteriouslyme81@mrswhozeewhatsis@aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles@girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame@saxxxology@jensen-jarpad @keepcalmandcarryondean dancingpanda137

Sam had been soulless for weeks now. He was the complete opposite of the boy you once knew and loved; unfeeling, uncaring- everything the real Sam wasn’t. You hadn’t definitively broken up with him, but the both of you knew it was over, and only one of you cared. So there was this weird tension between you and him, this whisper of what your relationship once had been. Sometimes you’d trick yourself into believing he was the normal Sam. Like when you saw him researching a case, eyebrows furrowed the same way as before. But you knew there wasn’t anything but cold, unrelenting steel behind those beautiful eyes of his. 

Even the little things were different. He never smiled, never laughed- unless it was at someone’s expense-never joked or flirted. Not anymore at least. The two of you used to spend entire days just lying in bed together. Wrestling, cuddling, telling stories- you did it all together. Never getting enough of each other and never wanting those days to end, those were the happiest times of your life. But that was all ruined now. He was gone and had left you to compensate with this unfeeling shell of a person.  

You weren’t the type of person to roll over and accept the new Sam, you weren’t Dean. You were angry, rageful even. You hated seeing him everyday. You hated those few seconds when you forgot he wasn’t your Sam, he was soulless. You hated hunting with him and having to fend for yourself, because he couldn’t care less if you lived or died. You hated the way he looked at you, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He wanted you solely for your body, and would happily use and then discard you if you let him- you vowed never to let him. You hated the way he shamelessly flirted with you, his hands ghosting over your hips and upper thighs. And most of all, you hated arguing with him. The two of you were constantly bickering and fighting, much to Dean’s annoyance. Soulless Sam and you did not get along, to say the least. He often played dirty though, knowing exactly what to say to you. Exactly which insults hit the hardest.

The night you left, he had done exactly that. Mocked and taunted until you couldn’t take it anymore. You had left- abandoning him and Dean, and ended up regretting it every day since. 

You, Sam and Dean had just finished a hunt. A particularly nasty one involving ghouls feeding on families moving into a new apartment complex. Sam had been no joy to work with, as usual. He was impatient, frustrated, just wanting the hunt to be over. Instead of hunting to save people as he had before, you knew Sam only did it for the rush. Killing a monster, taking a life, it was a high even you were guilty of seeking out. And now that Sam was completely driven by his id, all he wanted to do was hunt and kill. 

You were covered in dirt and blood and already in a terrible mood. The small motel the three of you were crammed into coupled with the tension between you and Sam, the powder keg was bound to explode. 

“You seriously almost got us all killed back there, (Y/N)”, Sam addressed you, clearly annoyed. 

“Sorry I put innocent people’s lives before yours, I wouldn’t of have to if you just killed the damn ghouls.”, you retorted, not taking any of his shit tonight. 

“Both of you, cool it.”, Dean interluded, but neither of you heeded his warning. 

“I was outnumbered three to one, you’d have been dead if you were in my position”, Sam pressed on, your face flushed with anger.

“I definitely wouldn’t have because I know a knife from a god damn lamp”, you were yelling now. Hours before, Sam had been cornered by the three ghouls while you and Dean untied and freed the people they’d been holding captive. He stupidly let go of his knife and it was sent flying across the room, he improvised and used the nearest table lighting as a weapon instead. That mistake nearly cost all of your lives, and you weren’t about to let him forget it. 

Sam all but growled in your direction, nose curled up in a snarl and hands balled into fists. 

“You and your god damn feelings, always getting in the way”, he yelled back. 

“My ‘god damn feelings’,” you said, mocking his own voice, “are the only reason you’re still alive!!” 

You were referring to the countless times you’d made the hard decision in order to save his life. He’d always done the same for you too, putting you above others and fighting tooth and nail to save you. But that was before he lost his soul, this Sam wouldn’t bat an eye if you were gutted right in front of him. 

“Please, you know I don’t need you. I never needed you”, Sam yelled again, slightly smiling at the hurt look he saw flash on your face. 

“Shut the hell up, Sam, I’m not in the mood”, you replied while turning your heel to leave, the fight gone from your voice.  

But he saw this, saw how his words impacted you. So he just kept going, “I mean seriously, what was I thinking. I wasted years of my life with you. I mean yeah, you were okay in bed, but all the lovey-dovey crap. It was just that- crap”, he yelled, voice hoarse and unforgiving. 

“Sammy, shut the hell up and walk away”, Dean cut him off when he saw you weren’t going to. 

His insults were getting to you. You’d become immune to almost anything Sam said at this point; but when he insulted your relationship, the people you’d been before he lost his soul, it stung every time. Of course he knew this, and since he had no conscious telling him to stop, he just pressed on. 

“Dean stay out of this, I’m not finished.”, you braced yourself, wishing the motel was more than one room so you could get away from him. 

“I can see you hate me, (Y/N). I see you still have this fantasy that I’ll snap out of it or something- magically become the person I was before. But I don’t want to be him again, I wont do it. He was weak and pathetic.”, he emphasized the insults hurled at his old self, just to spite you. And with a rush of anger you found your fist connecting with his jaw. You heard a loud crunch and knew you had hit your target. 

Sam was on you in an instant, hands at your throat and pressing you against the wall. 

“Sam! Hey!”, Dean’s voice echoed off the dingy walls of the motel. He was clawing at his brother fiercely, so were you. But you weren’t trying to get Sam off of you, you were trying to hurt him back. You punched his cheeks, his lip, his eyes. You found bruises and cuts quickly forming all over his face. But his hands were still around your throat, squeezing hard. 

With a grunt and a yell, Dean finally managed to get Sam off you. You began gasping and grabbing your neck, breathing deeply and still not getting enough oxygen. Minutes later, when the burn had almost left your lungs and Sam had gotten an icepack for his face, you decided you were going to leave. 

“What the hell you two?! Can’t you get along for one god damn day, I mean come on”, Dean yelled at both you and Sam. But you didn’t care, his words barely registered to you, you’d already made up your mind. 

Yes, it would kill you to leave Dean. But you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t deal with seeing the man you’d once loved so, so deeply become this soulless monster. You knew you were going to hate yourself for giving up when Sam had never given up on you. But you also knew you were at your breaking point.  

You decided to tell Dean first, Sam wouldn’t care. 

“Dean,” you said, lips pursed and arms crossed. His eyebrows pressed together, he could read you like a book and knew what you were planning on doing. 

“Tonight?”, he asked. The look on his face almost broke your heart. He was so sad for you, so sad for what Sam had become and for what you’d become from seeing him like that everyday. You also saw betrayal, that was the worst part. Although he’d never admit it, you knew he felt abandoned. Which you were, abandoning him, and you’d hate yourself for it. 

You nodded, “Dean I can’t anymore, I...I can’t”, you let out a breath. 

“Okay, come here, kid”, he pulled you into a hug. Years of love and friendship were wrapped into the embrace, all the good and the bad and the ugly of your time on the road together. You felt him choking back tears, but you couldn’t hold back your own. They came down hot and heavy as you buried your face into his shoulder- knowing you were going to miss him terribly. 

About 15 minutes later, you and Dean had packed your belongings. You had decided to try one last time with Sam, even though you knew it was useless. 

“Sam, I’m leaving.”, you turned towards him, searching desperately for any hint of emotion in his face.

You found none as he responded, “Okay.” 

And that was the moment it happened, when your heart really cleaved in two. He couldn’t care less, and you didn’t know why you ever expected him to. 

“I’m sorry, Sam I can’t do it anymore. I love you, and I know that word means nothing to you right now. But if you ever get your emotions back, ever get your soul back.....” your voice trailed off into a weak sob, “Let me know, and I’ll come running, I promise.” 

But Sam just shrugged, promising in return that it would never happen.