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#also Deans speech to Sam
ardentpoop · 29 days
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:)
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samdyke · 1 year
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sharpbluejay · 1 year
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I do kinda love the thought that it was Lucifer that kept Sam alive in Red Meat because truly what better way to show the levels of possession both Dean and Lucifer feel like they have over him. Sam can't die until either of them let him and they just won't let him.
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queermania · 11 months
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Why does everybody hate Berens? What did he do?
apart from the j1/w*ncest crowd, i don't think people really do at all. he's kind of beloved in fandom. there is a (very small) group of us hellers, however, who have noticed that he is largely responsible for some of our least favorite things in dabb era specifically (but really just in general with how he writes). most of the angry!dean stuff comes from his episodes (he seems to be under the impression that dean is just angry and there's nothing else to it which is in stark contrast with the general dean thesis of 'i'm not mad. i'm worried.'). he also wouldn't know subtlety and nuance if it hit him over the head. and then there's all the racism, most specifically in regards to kaia, but it's in other places too. the racism is obviously the biggest issue, but it kind of gets glossed over for reasons i can only guess at but i'm sure include 'omg he's the destiel warrior! we wouldn't have destiel without him!' (which is simply not true. does robbie 'goodbye stranger' thompson mean nothing to you?)
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theangiediary · 1 year
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happy wincest wednesday!! what's a protective or pining sam scene you find underrated?
Scarecrow! (Thank you for this Vicky <3)
One of my favorite Sam traits in s1 is his contentiousness. He loves Dean and John, he just needs them to say it first. He’ll even submit! He just has to know why.
“I want my sacrifice to be my choice” kinda thing.
Of course it’s beautifully contrasted with Yessir pliant, easy Dean. Who so prettily begs for the only thing he desires (Sam), but won’t fight for it. 
1x11 is amazing bc we see both brother’s moral code paralleled and perverted: Dean’s blind obedience to John is the townsfolk’s For the Greater Good killing of victims, which Emily dooms at the end by burning the effigy. Sam’s Freedom-Means-Living-Away-From-Family (who think they know what’s best for me, and I love, but..) was line by line described by “Meg”, who turned out to be a demon (and obeying her own father’s orders!).
So.... yeah. The lesson of the episode is it’s Sam and Dean, together, against everything else. It’s their love story.
And while there’s some Iconic Dean lines (“puppy eyes”, “that’s my boy!”), Sam has some yummy pining moments.
“You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.” (If he was serious about going to John, why...) and “I’ve been trying to call my brother for the last three hours.” THREE HOURS! He talked to Dean that (early) morning and started calling him around 2pm. Just thinking about him sitting in that bus stop for hours, worrying about Dean. And then he gets there! And Dean’s tied up and maybe about to die!! I can’t even imagine, no wonder Sam’s Like That in Faith (1x12). And that speech WAS beautiful Dean (you should be eating kissing his ass).
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lessonsdrowning · 2 years
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i think tht they shldve had Sam come back to life more deranged w/ every time he was revived. like he loses himself w/ every revival & it makes Dean question if it wldve been better if he left Sam dead than to bring him back to life
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crackers4jenn · 5 months
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spn is such a funny show, it'll be like:
Naomi tells Cas he has to choose "us, or them" and 'them' is meant to imply Sam and Dean both, but then
she makes Cas kill fake copies of Dean only
Or Metatron will speechify about how Cas is "in love... with humanity"
and then give Cas another lil speech about how it was all "to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately it was about saving one human, right?"
Ishim shows up and tries to tell Cas how weak he is for befriending Sam and Dean
and then when he wants to "cure" Cas of his human weakness, that weakness is just Dean
AND THEN you'll have things like
Sam will say that Cas is family, that he'd die for him
but he also refers to Cas as an "it" just hanging around in a vessel strong enough to take on Lucifer (in season 11!! It's not like he said that in s4 or something, it was like 8 years after knowing the guy)
Or in "Regarding Dean," Dean will say to Sam "and our best friend's an angel!"
and then when he's by himself in the mirror, he'll say "and Cast--Cas is my best friend."
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jasmines-library · 2 months
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Hey I don't know if you've ever done a Winchester!sister story with the sister being really young and also much younger then her brothers, so I don't know if you would be able to do this request for me but I really hope you can:)
Anyway the request is 2 year old reader wakes her brothers up by crying and they get up and find her in her crib her onsie pajamas buttons is open as if she tried to get rid of it and then when Dean picks her up he feels the heat radiating from her.
Both Dean and Sam know they have to take care of the situation. Dean takes her temperature, and they find out she is sick and they take care of her and so on and so on. This is just a type of summary so you can change things as much as you like. I love a good fluff and angst story;)
Loveee your writing and can't wait for this story❤️❤️❤️
Sick Bug
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Summary: When you wake up feeling sick, your big brothers are there to help make you feel better.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Sickness
Exciting sidenote: I am 2 followers away from 1K!!
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
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You were crying again. Poor baby had been restless all day, tossing and turning as if you were trying to escape a force that wasn’t there. At first your brothers thought you were just over tired: the three of you had been on the road all day. Travelling with a toddler was dangerous business, so Sam and Dean tried not to do it often, but with Cas MIA and Bobby out of town they were left with no choice.
They had lay you down to rest not too long ago, but you had been restless since then. You had protested being put to bed in the first place, clinging to Dean with your little hands but after some coaxing he had managed to get you to sleep. That and you were absolutely exhausted and struggling to keep your little eyes open.
Then your eyes had come flying open and your little whimpers filled the room. You were too hot and felt like you were going to suffocate as your squirmed, trying your unbutton your pyjamas. Your head ached and your sinuses were uncomfortably blocked, throwing you off balance.
Dean rose slowly from his slumber, altered by your cries. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he made his way to your crib where you were sat up trying to struggle out of your onesie. Sam rolled over to glance at your from his bed. He hadn’t really been sleeping, but seeing as Dean had made his way over to you he didn’t feel the need to.
“What’s the matter, huh sweetheart?” Dean frowned as he reached out to pick you up. Your arms reached out instinctively to grab him as you continued to cry.
The second you were in Deans arms he became increasingly worried about the warmth that radiated off of you and he shot a look to Sam who, at his brothers concerning lack of speech, clambered out of bed and moved cumbersomely towards you.
You buried your face into the crook of Deans’s neck trying to hide from the ache. His skin provided some relief and you sniffled. Dean further furrowed his brow. Your skin was hot. Too hot.
“Sweetheart?” Dean tried to coax your face away from his neck. He brushed away the stray hairs that your cold flush of sweat had plastered to the edge of your face before pressing his palm to your forehead. “She’s warm, Sammy.”
“You feeling poorly, kiddo?” Sam asked, taking you from Deans arms. You clung to him closely and nodded feebly.
Dean moved quickly towards the first aid kit, rummaging around for the thermometer as Sam bounced you up and down gently in his arms to try and soothe you a little. The eldest Winchester’s movements were somewhat panicked as he pulled out the glass cylinder.
“Alrighty sweetheart, open up.” He tried to persuade you to place the tube under your tongue. When you finally stopped trying to turn your tired face away and they had convinced you to hold it in your mouth for long enough, Sam pulled out to reveal that the line had skyrocketed to 101.
“Fever.” Sam confirmed, showing his brother the thermometer. He shifted you in his arms. “Explains why she can’t sleep.”
Suddenly you were overtaken by a fit of harsh, dry coughs that tore through you. Sam winced, rubbing you back gently.
“S’mmy…” you blubbered gripping his shirt tightly.
“Shh. It’s alright sweetheart we’ve got you.” Sammy moved over to the bed, still cradling you in his arms. He looked up at Dean. Realistically he knew that you would be fine, but he had never dealt with anything like this before and it worried him.
Dean on the other hand knew how to handle the situation. He had dealt with Sammy being ill plenty of times when he was younger. But when he looked at your flushed and sweaty cheeks and the way your body shivered ever so slightly, he couldn’t help but feel awful. As though he should have found someone to take care of you instead. But watching you curled up in his brother’s arms he realised he had more pressing matters to worry about.
Moving back to the first aid box, he pulled out a dose of medicine, cursing silently when you were overrun by another coughing fit. It was followed by another whimper. Sam slowly removed the outer layer of your onesie hoping that he could cool you down quicker. Still you clung to him closely, too young to understand that you might get him sick as you sniffled against him, but Sam didn’t care. He would risk being sick if it meant taking away your pain.
“Here we go sweetheart.” Dean wandered back over, a cool glass of water on one hand and a medicine in the other: one of those small sachets that they kept on hand in case of emergencies. “This will help you feel all better.” He promised.
Reaching out you held onto the cup, and with Deans help took a few sips. The icy water soothed the back of your throat and you sighed in content, setting back into Sam a little. It took a little more convincing for you to take the medicine. Tired and overwhelmed you had tried to refuse the bitter taste. But in the end Sam had promised you that you would feel much better if you took it, so reluctantly you let the liquid slide over your tongue.
It wasn’t long after that that you began to grow tired. Your little eyes struggled to stay awake as you lay curled up in Sam’s lap. Dean had perched beside him, watching shitty cartoons to help keep him awake so he could monitor your temperature in case you got any worse. Though as your ragged breaths evened out into tiny half-snores, the medicine seemed to be doing its job as your temperature seemed to slowly fall back down to a slightly more normal number.
At some point, Sam had also fallen asleep. Rubbing circles on your back and smoothing over your hair had lulled him into slumber. Dean smirked and pulled the bedcovers over the two of you. It looked like you weren’t going back to your bed tonight.
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SPN TAGS:
@defonotashleyr
@aestheticdaisies
@xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys
@inlovewhithafairytale
@harleycao
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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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— WILD FLOWER
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SUMMARY : dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. he was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. he’s a woman now. 
PAIRING : fem!dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester
WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fingering, oral sex, fem!dean (idk, that’s not a warning), misgendering?
WORD COUNT : 5.5k
A/N : title from RM’s song. this was new but very interesting, and I don’t regret it. I imagined dean as a combination of margot robbie and elizabeth olsen?? yeah, idk lol, yall can picture whoever you want. (I hate my 18 year old writing, but here it is) XXX
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Dean grunted as he let himself fall into the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Y/N looked at each other and Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she debated walking into the backseat with Dean or riding shotgun. 
“Dean, keys,” Sam reached his hand inside the car and Dean whined quietly, but started to search his jeans for the keys. Y/N watched Dean struggle with finding the keys, a loving smile growing on her face, and he held them out for Sam to take at last. “Sit with him, make sure he doesn’t die or something,” Sam joked to Y/N.
“Fuck you, man,” Dean grunted, moving slightly as Y/N slipped in the backseat with him snickering at him. Dean snuggled into Y/N, mumbling softly against her thigh as she played with his hair.
“You feeling okay, D?” 
He hummed softly and nodded. “‘M just sleepy.” 
She wanted to scold him for jumping in front of her when the witch cast her spell. He knew that she couldn’t be hurt, she had no idea why he would do that. Maybe it was just a habit, but it’s been a long time since he’d treated her like that, as if she were fragile and could easily die. 
She was worried, but he eventually fell asleep with his face pressed into her stomach, curled up on his side. He looked so adorable when he slept, a little smile tugged at her lips and she took the blanket they kept in the backseat and placed it over his body. 
“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked quietly as he drove, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. He also looked concerned, his eyes wide and puppy-like, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek.
“S’long as I’m alive, he’ll always be okay,” she promised, caressing Dean’s cheek with her thumb. Sam let out a shaky breath, relaxing in his seat while his hands flexed on the steering wheel.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam murmured, focusing on the road. Y/N looked away from Dean and gazed at Sam with a little smile, her eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re always here and have our backs. I know it was your choice to come with us all those years ago, but.. you’ve stayed with Dean and me—even after everything. I know anyone else woulda run for the hills, but you actually love my brother in ways I’ve never seen anyone be loved. He deserves you and you deserve him, you two make each other so happy…” 
She blinked at Sam, confused by his sudden speech, she figured he must have been anxious at Dean’s current state. Still, his words had impact. It was no secret she was head over heels for Dean and it was no secret he was just as in love with her. It made her stomach clench delightfully, her face heating up as she imagined how easily everyone else can see the love they have for each other. 
She looked down at Dean, smiling wider at his peaceful face before quietly saying, “you don’t need to thank me, Sam.” 
“No, I know… I just… I’m glad you’re in our lives,” he told her bashfully, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She looked up and smiled back at him, letting out a small laugh that made him relax immediately.
“I’m glad you’re both in my life too,” she said quietly. A peaceful silence descended within the Impala, the occasional little rock hitting the metal frame while Sam drove as smoothly as he could back to the motel they were staying at. 
Thankfully, the sun wouldn’t start rising for a few hours which meant they could catch a little sleep on their last night at the motel before heading off to the Bunker. More importantly, Dean would get some extra sleep—and Y/N was thrilled that he would be able to sleep fully until morning.
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Dean whined and nuzzled into Y/N’ stomach when she tried moving him out of the Impala so he could sleep in a bed. He slapped her hand away and mumbled some nonsense into her tummy until Sam returned to check on them and roughly slapped his brother’s shoulder.
“Ow,” Dean flinched, slowly getting up to rub his shoulder with a pout while Y/N and Sam laughed at how childish he sounded. “You’re both mean…” he muttered, pecking Y/N’s lips just because he could before sleepily stumbling out of the Impala, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Y/N took the opportunity to gently smack his ass as his jacket and shirt rode up his body. 
He smirked at her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her which made Sam groan in disgust, mostly playful. She giggled into the kiss, clutching Dean’s shirt as he held her face in his warm palms.
“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat. When Dean held Y/N in place, his tongue lazily slipping past her lips as he tilted his head for a better angle, Sam scratched the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, and made his escape. Dean chuckled, finally pulling away from his girlfriend.
“Will you make me sleep on the couch if I don’t wanna shower?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, it made her smile adoringly at him. Dean could surprisingly pull that look off quite well and she had to resist rolling her eyes—mostly at herself for melting as soon as he looked at her that way. 
“Just sleep in clean clothes and brush your teeth,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He hummed quietly, nodding his head, accepting her proposition. 
“What if I sleep naked?” He wondered with a smirk, staring down at her. He bit his lip, raising his brows as he held her close to him. She laughed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the cadence of his relaxing heartbeat.
“I would love that, but unfortunately, we share a room with your brother…” She moved away from him to close the door. He groaned in annoyance, holding her pinky with his. “I know,” she said dramatically, tugging him to the motel room, fully intertwining their fingers, “if only you could sleep naked next to me at all hours, every night.” 
He chuckled softly at the thought, spinning her around to face him with his arms around her waist. She gasped dramatically as he opened the door, but before he could kiss her, she put her finger to his lips, “better yet, what if you were naked at all hours, every day too?” He stumbled in with a laugh, kicking the door closed, and pressing her against the wall.
“Is that what you picture if we have our own home?” He murmured, kissing her passionately and sloppily dragging his lips down her neck. “Me, walking around naked so I can fuck you whenever I want?” He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him. 
“Dean…” she moaned, “we can’t…” 
He rutted against her slowly, her hands twisting in his shirts, as his warm breath fanned over her neck. He was already hard, it was driving her crazy to feel him against her clothed core, wetness pooling between her legs.
“Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, “I know.” He let her down gently and kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again before he pulled away and started to strip.
“Don’t apologise for that,” she chuckled, stripping off her dirty clothes and putting on a clean pair of panties as he stood there, naked.
“I was apologising to your panties, mostly, and your pussy,” he bit his lip and nodded at her playfully, “because I bet they’re soaked, just ruined, and that you were expecting my dick inside you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she chuckled, stealing a shirt from his duffel bag and grabbing some new boxers for him.
“I…” she laughed, shoving his boxers against his chest, “stop distracting me.” She walked past him as she put his shirt on and laughed when he pulled her into him again. His warm hands moved up her sides, lifting the shirt she wore as he pressed himself against her, his cock squeezed between their bodies. “I’m serious,” she chuckled, looking over at the bathroom door where the water was still running as Sam showered.
He sighed and let her go, dramatically putting his boxers on and standing there with his hands on his hips. “Better?” He asked, rolling his eyes playfully when she peeked at him from over her shoulder and then smiled at him.
“Not really, but I asked you to, so, I guess.” She smiled at him and pulled him closer to her. He moved with her smoothly, holding her close and plopping down on the bed with her in his lap. “Sammy's gonna come out soon,” she warned as he kissed her again and kneaded her ass, his hands warm and rough. 
“I know,” he whined, falling back on the bed, closing his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hip bones. “Don’t get mad, I don’t wanna brush my teeth, I’m still a little tired from the spell.” Her eyes softened and she leaned over him, kissing his hairline, dropping another kiss on his forehead.
“I’m never going to get mad at you, you know that, Dean.” She kissed his nose and then his lips before climbing off him and laying down with her head in the pillow. He turned to look at her tiredly, but managed to smile at her happily.
“I know, I just like being dramatic.” Instead of claiming his spot closest to the door, he settled between her legs, nudging them apart with his knees. 
“I love you so much, Dean,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him down to rest his head on her chest. He quickly relaxed, a soft sigh warming up her chest as he nuzzled between her breasts as comfortably as he could. 
“I love you, Y/N, so much,” he mumbled shyly against her chest. His face heated up, but he hoped it made her smile. Her fingers began combing through his hair, and matched with her steady heartbeat and her warmth, they lulled him until he fell back into unconsciousness again. 
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When he woke up, it was already sunny outside. He knew Sam must have gone out for a run, and after that, to pick up some coffee and tea for Y/N. He sneaked his hand under his girlfriend’s shirt with his eyes closed. Dean felt her stir when his fingers gently brushed against her nipple, a shudder rippling through her that made him smirk.
He lowered his hand and tugged at her panties, hoping to rouse her. It made her moan softly in protest. When he went to kiss her, a curtain of honey-coloured locks scared the shit out of him and he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, but settled for a quick, “oh, shit!” 
He stumbled off of Y/N and his wiggling on the bed woke her.
“Dean?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the naked woman on the bed who was looking down at herself in shock. It sobered Y/N and she scrambled far away from the unfamiliar woman. “Dean?! Is this some kind of joke?” Y/N got out of bed, her eyes trailing up and down the woman’s body.
“Y/N, it’s me! It’s Dean!” In his attempts to get up, his boxers fell from his slimmer, curvier body, and Y/N froze, staring at him in the eyes. Green eyes. Dean pulled the boxers up and held them at his waist. 
“What?” She asked quietly.
“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m Dean,” he said more calmly, making his way to her on the bed, walking on his knees. “Im kinda freaking out, babe,” he admitted quietly. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s breasts again and then Y/N started to laugh. “What? What’s so funny? Sweetheart, we need to find out what happened! What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t care that she was laughing, he still moved in for a hug which she easily gave to him, her arms wrapping around his, her, neck.
“I’m sorry, D,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck and smelling the same scent that always came from Dean. “I think it was the witch, honestly,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, his green eyes and cute freckles that she always loved. 
“But she’s dead…” Dean whispered, sitting down, his long hair covering her chest. “S-shouldn’t I…? Then why is the spell still working?” He wondered exasperatedly, running his hand down his face. “I need some clothes. And-and we need to get to the Bunker, read up on this shit…” he started to ramble as he got off the bed, letting his boxers fall.
“We can call Rowena,” Y/N suggested, but Dean was too busy rifling through his duffle bag. “D, slow down, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.” She got off the bed and stopped Dean, who was still pretty tall. He instinctively leaned down to kiss her, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. She kissed him back, to his surprise, as if he were the same, as if it didn’t matter to her that he was a woman now. At least for however long he had to be one before they turned him back.
“I wanna wear that dress that drives me crazy when you wear it,” he murmured playfully against her lips. She laughed at Dean, pulling away completely to dig through her duffle bag for a pair of her underwear and a bra. “Babe, your boobs are bigger than mine,” he pouted, experimentally holding his breasts in his hand and rolling his nipples between his fingers. He gasped softly and Y/N’s face heated up as she watched him touch himself. “Shit, am I pissing myself?” He stopped touching himself to look between his legs and then relaxed when he realised what was happening. “Oh,” he said with wonder.
“Stop that,” Y/N chuckled, placing the bra back into her bag while Dean pulled Y/N’s underwear on. She then took out the dress Dean was talking about, wondering if he was serious or not. “Are you sure?” She asked, holding it up for him to inspect it—even though he’d seen it millions of times. He rubbed his thighs together and then looked up at her, his face flushed.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, getting up and taking it from her, letting him help putting it on. She bit her lip, realising that he was turned on right now. “Man, why am I so wet?” He whined as Y/N fixed the straps of the thin and soft dress. 
“I don’t know,” she murmured, fixing the dress on Dean’s body and grabbing the white, silky strap of cloth that went around the waist to make a neat bow at his waist. “Why do you think you’re wet?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Uh,” Dean looked down at himself, bit his lip as he blushed and then looked at her. “Probably because you still turn me on and I’m wearing your panties,” he told her, licking his lips, he stepped forward, watching her stand up straight as he came closer. “I mean, I know wearing panties always feels good to me, but it’s always different when I know they’re yours,” he confessed, looking down as he sneaked his hand under her shirt and into her panties. Both their breaths started to pick up and he moaned softly, finding her as soaked as he felt. 
Just then, the doorknob started to rattle and Dean grunted in annoyance. He moved his hand out from between her legs and licked his fingers clean of her slick before kissing her forehead and heading to the bathroom. Sam froze as he watched a woman—Dean—wad to the bathroom while Y/N stood there, flushed, before facing Sam.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him to place the cup holder on the table. 
“Uh, the witch made Dean a woman,” Y/N said bluntly, putting on some jeans to look a little more decent. 
“The.. What?” Sam blinked at Y/N, then seemed to have let the information sink as he sat down, abandoning the coffee cup he was drinking from when he came in. “Are you sure?” He asked, even though he knew Y/N knew what she was doing. She nodded and took the cup that had the tea string hanging out of the cup. “I’ll call Rowena as we make our way to the Bunker, it’s just a few hours away…” Sam stretched a little and froze when Dean came out of the bathroom, using a towel to clean his face.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, hating the way Sam looked at him in shock. Dean took the last coffee on the cup holder and started to drink from it. “I know, I’m so hot like this, too,” he smirked up at his baby brother. Sam rolled his eyes, needing nothing more to know that it was, in fact, Dean as a woman. 
Y/N chuckled and made her way to the bathroom to get ready, letting Sam and Dean talk about whatever they needed to before stepping out. She got her stuff ready, found Sam perplexed, prepared, and Dean amused and curious, before they all headed out to the car to get to the Bunker.
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Dean pouted as Rowena started to scan his body using a spell, Y/N stifled a laugh, which made Dean smile. As soon as Sam got in the Impala, he started to call Rowena and told her to be there to help Dean out. She was obviously there, faster than either of them cared to mention.
Rowena had also checked Dean out as soon as she saw him, which Dean liked, despite his sassy remark to her objectifying stare. He plopped down on the bed of the infirmary and let Rowena do her thing, Y/N was sitting nearby as Sam anxiously chewed on his fingernails. 
“Honestly, as long as I’m not gonna die…” he trailed off, “but please tell me you can turn me back.” Rowena sighed and smiled at Dean, her eyes mischievous and naughty as she patted Dean’s head like a dog.
“You’re not going to die,” she reassured him and Dean slapped her hand away, sitting up on the bed. “And the spell will run its course in a few days, like a fever,” she explained. Dean listened as he played with the hem of the dress he wore. “Tell me, what’s it like for you being a woman? Have you two already explored your new body?” She asked mischievously. Sam cleared his throat, expressing his discomfort. Rowena rolled her eyes at him, but smirked at Dean’s blush as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m asking because I can change you back now… Unless..” she trailed off, looking between Y/N and Dean with a knowing look, “unless you two wanna experiment…” She added casually, shrugging and looking at her nails.
“Okay! I’m leaving now,” Sam said, not wanting to hear it or to embarrass Y/N and Dean for their choice. Sam decided he was going to leave the Bunker for a while and l text Dean that he’d be back in a week. Sam nodded to himself, getting some new clothes and his duffle bag, he wanted to give them some privacy. Maybe he could read all those books he wanted to read and stay in a motel for a while. Or he could call Eileen, yeah, he was gonna do that, spend some time with her and go on a date, too. 
“I’m not judging, I’m actually encouraging it,” Rowena said smugly, packing her things. Rowena didn’t need an answer, she had Dean figured out. He was confident and proud about his sex life; he was an experimenter, willing to try anything. Dean rolled his eyes at Rowena and got out of bed to stand next to Y/N. 
“Whatever, we’ll walk you out,” Dean grumbled, taking Y/N’s hand to help her off the chair as Rowena gave both of them a knowing look. Her dark eyes shone with amusement and flirtatiousness, which made Dean roll his eyes again as he took her other bag and walked out with Y/N. 
“I always knew you two were an interesting pair,” she laughed, “I mean, how do you get Y/N to try all these things? She seems too tame for things like these…” Dean smirked to himself, knowing Rowena couldn’t see his face; if only she knew how many times a lot of the freaky stuff they did were Y/N’s idea. He looked down at his girlfriend, his eyes full of affection and desire. She was so cute when she was flustered. 
Rowena gasped dramatically, her heels clicking as she hurried to stand next to them. “Don’t tell me, this child is the one who comes up with everything… I knew you were the most sheltered, Dean.” Rowena laughed, looking between both of them, and needing nothing, but their silence to confirm her statement. “Well, I’m just shocked… but very proud.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, a genuine expression of pride and mischief shining in her grey-blue eyes. 
Y/N shook her head at the witch, allowing Dean to open the Bunker door for Rowena to make her exit. “Well, thanks for coming out to help, Rowena,” Y/N told her. Dean handed Rowena her bag and Rowena grinned at them.
“You’re welcome,” she kissed Y/N’s cheek formally and patted Dean’s shoulder, “have a fantastic week, lovebirds.” Rowena continued to tease as she walked out, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the Bunker, both amused as they shut the door. 
“I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Dean said, looking down at his body, “and then I’m gonna shower.” He leaned over to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then kissed her lips, smiling adorably at her. 
“Just… go look for your brother,” Y/N chuckled shyly, walking past Dean just as his phone lit up on the war table. “Nevermind!” She shouted, taking Dean’s phone when she saw Sam’s name light up the screen above a message he sent. Dean raised a brow and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder to read whatever notification he got. 
SAMMY : I’m heading out with Eileen. I’m spending the whole week with her. You two have fun… No details, please.
Dean chuckled too, taking the phone when Y/N handed it to him. He typed out his response with a childish snicker and a grin. Y/N’s smile grew watching Dean look practically the same even as a woman.
Dean : Oh, you have plenty of time to finally sleep with her.. Unlike you, I’d like to hear the details… or Eileen will spill to Y/N and I’ll know anyway. Heh.
Dean proudly sent the message, his attention purely on his phone. He saw Sam had immediately read it and the text bubble appeared, so he stepped forward, leaning his hips against the table, nearly forgetting he was a woman. He quickly recovered and laughed at Sam’s response.
SAMMY : She wouldn’t… Stop that!
               Goodbye, Dean
Dean could already hear the annoyance from Sam through the text and he grinned to himself, looking to where Y/N was. A soft smile graced her pretty lips and Dean found himself smiling back immediately, and reaching out for her hand.
“Let’s shower together,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing against her knuckles when she took his hand. She nodded at him, looking at Dean the same way she always had. It flustered him. 
While he walked with her to the bathroom, he couldn’t help squeeze her hand nervously—now that he was a woman. It was comforting that nothing had changed for her, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. If anything could display how she felt about him, this was the true testament of her love for him.
As much as he wanted to just get the shower over with, he couldn’t. He had no idea how to stop himself from being so horny, it was like starting all over again from puberty. He couldn’t focus on anything, but the desire for Y/N to touch him. He was so wet, everytime his thighs were too close, he could feel his panties sticking to his pussy, the cool feeling of wetness surprising him. 
He didn’t even realise he was already in the bathroom, until he felt Y/N tugging at the ends of the little bow she made around his waist to keep the dress snug against his curves. He focused on her, but the way it just seemed so natural to her that he was a woman now, it was confusing. Still, it was also nice, hoping that her love for him was just that pure and unconditional.
“I love you,” he mumbled. He felt shy saying that, but she looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly, pleasant surprise written all over her face, one side of her lips turning up just a little. She leaned forward and pecked his lips, repeating the same sentiment that made him feel warm, a flush that was different from the lust he’d been feeling all day. 
Dean started to take his dress off slowly, but Y/N stripped faster than he did, focused on the task of showering. She turned the shower on and waited patiently for Dean to get used to his lady parts and the difference in size of all his body. His arms were thinner and so were his legs, he was soft, but toned, and just slightly firm on his ass, he was squishy in all the places he liked Y/N to be. When he’d embarrassedly lowered his panties, Y/N watched, amused by the patch of wetness that drenched the crotch of the cotton. 
“Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled, stepping forward and curiously tugging Dean’s panties to get a clearer look at all the wetness. Dean blushed, now understanding why Y/N became so coy when he did or said things like that. He secretly liked it though, the way she pressed her fingers into the damp cotton and hummed as if it were nice against her fingertips. “You're so dirty,” she whispered, laughing softly. 
“I’m not used to this,” was all he managed to say. Y/N released his panties, letting them pool around his ankles. Dean swallowed, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to do something, anything really, just as long as he could get off. She’d mimicked what Dean did earlier to himself, her hands experimentally cupping Dean’s breast. Dean bit his lip, feeling his nipples tighten and tingle with the prospect of being touched.
Y/N was slow and curious in the way she handled him. Her thumbs gently circled around the nipple, observing them start to pucker up. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed against the little buds of his nipples and he found himself arching his chest the same way she did when he did that to her. 
It had the same effect on her as it had on him, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close so her warm mouth was latched onto his nipple. He moaned, feeling her fingers on his other breast, pinching and rolling his nipples, while she tongued the other expertly.
He felt his knees weaken and he steadied himself on the wall, a wave of wetness dampening his legs more. She released his waist, sucking his nipple into her mouth, her teeth pleasantly scraping the sensitive skin of his nipples. Her hand slid down his side, smoothly tracing the curve of his waist, down to his hips.
Her thumb brushed against his hipbone and it felt so damn good, Dean moaned again, squirming and hoping Y/N would show him mercy and put her fingers where she knew he wanted her to. Instead, she playfully tugged at his nipple and let it go with a pop, her warm breath billowing over the wetness and making shivers erupt on his skin. 
Dean felt his eyes roll back, felt so horny when she wrapped her arm around his waist again and repeated every little stroke of her tongue on his other nipple. This time, her free hand moved between his legs. Dean found himself spreading his legs when her palms sailed smoothly up the inside of his thigh, curving up to cup his pussy, her palm grinding against his swollen clit and her fingers pressing into his drenched entrance. 
He gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, trying to pull her up so she would kiss him instead. She pulled away from his chest and let Dean kiss her, a surprised sound muffling against Dean’s lips. She didn’t stop palming his swollen clit, and Dean began to undulate his hips against her hand and she smirked. Even now, she loved making him desperate. 
“I need to cum,” he gasped against her mouth. Y/N nodded, circled Dean’s weeping entrance with two fingers and moved them up to his clit. She kissed Dean’s neck, licked his sweet skin and marked him as hers where she thought would look pretty against his skin. Dean’s heavy breaths and breathy moans caused a pool of arousal between her legs again. 
Y/N licked her lips, staring at Dean, and truly took him in. She took in the gorgeous curves of his body, his tiny waist and wide hips, the perfect roundness of his perky breasts, his nipples hard and shimmering with her saliva. He looked beautiful, ravenous, in the same way he’d make her feel when he had the body of a man. 
His hair was long and straight, a lighter brown colour. He was breathtaking, with strands curtaining above his chest and falling in front of his face, long tendrils of honey that nearly covered his green eyes. He looked at her breathlessly, wondering why she was so slowly, agonisingly massaging his clit. 
He hadn’t expected to see the same tenderness in her eyes that she’d usually gaze at him with, her eyes sparkling with wonder and love. Dean whined anyway, grasping her wrist to speed up and control the movements just when she began to trace the same freckles she’d seen on Dean’s other body with her eyes. 
She didn’t say anything, just snatched Dean’s wrist with her clean hand to keep him away as she easily slipped two fingers inside him. Dean gasped, not expecting the speed at which Y/N fingered him. Her fingertips easily found his g-spot, curled so deliciously against the sensitive ridges of his wall. His mouth fell open and he moaned her name loudly, feeling a coil begin to tighten in his tummy. 
He tugged at his nipples with both hands, squeezing his breasts and fucked himself against her quick fingers. Y/N stared up at him, captivated by every one of his hedonistic manoeuvres. Desire flourished between her legs and in her stomach at the sound of Dean’s wet cunt around her fingers. 
Y/N got down on her knees, her mouth sending warm breaths over his pelvis. Dean’s eyes snapped open to gaze down at Y/N with an intense hunger, wiggling his hips and abandoning one of his breasts to spread his folds with two fingers, encouraging her to put her mouth on his clit. 
She didn’t hesitate to flick his clit teasingly and he jolted, his head bumping against the wall. He moaned again, the feeling of her tongue’s perfect strokes drew him closer to his orgasm. The smoothness of movement aided by her saliva and Dean just didn’t care about holding back when he came, completely relaxing his muscles and letting it tear through him intensely.
Dean caught his breath against the wall, her fingers slowing down and stopping before her tongue did. Y/N sat back on her legs and licked her fingers clean while Dean watched her. Leaning forward for more, she lifted Dean’s thigh and pushed his legs open to lap up his clear cum and he moaned appreciatively.
“Come on, there’s still a lot more I have to show you.” She grinned at him mischievously, allowing Dean to relax and catch his breath. She stepped into the shower and stared at him for a moment.
“God,” he whispered and rolled his eyes, “it sucks that this is just temporary.” He entered the shower with her. 
“That’s enough time,” she reassured him with a grin. Dean gasped when Y/N manhandled him under the showerhead and used her fingers to clean him up, purposely brushing against his sensitive clit.
“I am so in love with you,” Dean breathed, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. 
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zepskies · 5 months
Text
Smoke Eater - Part 12
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: Thank you everyone for your kind words on Part 11! 🥰 It really meant so much to me.
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ just to be safe on this one. Angst, hurt/comfort, minor violence and tension, fluff with a tinge of spice.~
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Part 12: “All in the Family”
You didn’t realize until the funeral just how well loved your grandfather had been.
So many of his friends, along with your grandmother’s, came up to you personally to express their condolences even before the church service began. Some were more heartfelt and broken up than that of your extended family members, many of whom hardly checked on him when he was alive, even before his cancer returned.
You had no mascara left by the time the service started. Yet it wasn’t until you had to get up and speak that you noticed something else when you stared out into the crowd.
Almost all of Dean’s friends (and now yours) had come to support you. Meg and Cas, Sam and Eileen, Benny and Andréa, Jo and Ellen…they all sat in the row behind him, even though very few of them had even met your grandfather in person.
“George was born in Lebanon, Kansas in the early ‘40s,” you began. “At the time, its population was about 600. Now, it’s less than 200…and that’s why he left, he told me. I didn’t want to be the last relic left standin’ with the tumbleweeds.”
That bit earned you some laughs. You paused, smiling slightly. With a shaking breath, you managed to continue.
Though it was hard for you to even look at Andréa. It was with a mixture of lingering resentment, tempered only by your guilt at the last words you’d levied at your best friend. A large part of you still felt justified, even today, to hold your grudge. Maybe you were wrong for it, but that was just how you felt.
And right now, you were shaking. You barely managed to get through the speech you wrote down on a notepad. After you were done, you couldn’t force yourself to pry your fingers off the podium. You glanced over at the closed casket behind you, to your right.
The pastor was standing to your left, waiting on you to go back to your seat so he could resume the service. You could sense him watching you, and distantly you heard him call your name. You couldn’t respond. Your voice was stuck in your throat.
Both anxious and panicked, you looked up at the sea of people watching you. Your gaze darted from face to face, until you landed on Dean. He was staring up at you in thinly veiled concern.
You okay? he mouthed.
You shook your head subtly. You had the undeniable conviction that if you let go of the podium, you would fall into a heap. You’d make an embarrassing scene at your grandpa’s funeral—something George definitely would’ve gotten a kick out of, if he was here.
My granddaughter, ladies and gentlemen. She can talk real well, but apparently she can’t walk at the same time.
Before you could choke out a laugh, followed shortly by hyperventilating, Dean got out of his seat and went up to the stage.
His supportive hand came to rest on the small of your back, while the other was offered to you palm facing up, next to where you had a death grip on the podium. You met his eyes, and he gave you a steady look. 
“You got this,” he said in a lowered voice.
You took his hand. He guided you off the stage and back into your seat. His lips pressed to your cheek.
“You did great,” Dean said quietly in your ear. “He’d be proud of you.”
You held onto his hand for the rest of the service.
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Your big house was good for one thing: it made for a roomy reception.
Thank God you hadn’t had to cook yourself. Ellen had brought everything you might’ve wanted or needed by way of food and drinks, and true to Dean’s word, she’d given you what you suspected was a heavily discounted price. You’d tried to give her an extra tip earlier, but she’d folded the envelop and stuck it behind the neckline of your dress.
“We already covered payment, and I don’t wanna hear about it again,” Ellen said. “Now help me unwrap these chicken strips.”
You gave a tremulous smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Later, while Ellen went to grab the utensils and plates, you found yourself side by side with Jo in your kitchen. She gave you a smile that was both kind and reserved.
“I’m sorry about your grandpa,” she said, pausing on uncasing a container of sandwiches. Her blue eyes looked sincere.
“Thank you,” you replied. Your small smile was genuine as well. Until Andréa and Benny came in, with Dean right behind.
“Can we help?” Andréa asked. Her question was pointed, and filled with double meaning as her eyes met yours.
After a moment, you decided to swallow your pride for now. It was only a few more hours, and then your house would be empty.
“Can you get the dining table set up?” you asked.
Andréa nodded, but you stopped her before she could venture out into the dining room.
“Where’re you going?” you asked.
She shot you a frown. “To do what you asked.”
“Tablecloths are in the linen closet,” you reminded her. “You can grab the beige one.”
“Oh, I thought you would’ve taken that out already,” she said. As if you didn’t have a million other things to remember to do today.
“Well, it’s there,” you said, trying to be patient.
Andréa’s lips pursed. “In the linen closet? The one in the hall?”
You sighed as you finished unwrapping the second package of potato salad. Your patience thinned.
“No, the one in the attic,” you snipped dryly. You knew you were kind of being a bitch, but you could’ve grabbed the damn tablecloth yourself in this time.
Andréa agreed wordlessly and left the kitchen with clipped heels.
Meanwhile, Dean surveyed the scene between you and your friend, and sensed that something was off there. Even Jo shot him a subtle brow raise. Dean’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t want to say anything to you just yet. He knew you had a lot on your mind.
Instead, he glanced at Benny, who gave his friend a telling look.
Dean took in a breath. “Okay, uh. What else do you need, babe?”
You looked up at him, softening. “Maybe help Ellen bring in the drinks and stuff? She just went out to her car.”
Dean nodded. “Sure.”
He and Benny left the kitchen, giving Dean a chance to get the scoop.
“Something going on between Thelma and Louise? That was downright frosty back there,” he remarked.  
Benny scoffed. “What, you didn’t know?”
“Know what?” Dean asked.
“They had a big blow out a couple weeks ago.”
“Seriously? I didn’t hear a word about it.”
“Well that’s confoundin’,” Benny said, rubbing at his beard. “‘Cause I certainly did. In excruciating detail.”
Dean’s lips flickered at a smirk, but it soon faded.
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After the lasts guests left the house, and the cleanup was done for the night, it got down to you and Dean alone in the house. Your family had never been a large one. Just you and your grandparents. And then, it had been just you and your grandfather for so long…
You now dreaded the moment that it would finally be just you.
At least tonight, you had your boyfriend. The two of you were watching a movie on the couch with another slice of leftover cake split between you. For once, you didn’t have the stomach for it. You let Dean polish off the plate.
He tossed it onto the coffee table and then paused the movie for a moment. He knew you weren’t really watching anyway. He rested a hand on your thigh, earning your attention.
“You given any more thought to a new car?” he asked. Yours had been totaled in the accident last month. Between Dean and Meg and Ellen bringing in food and supplies, you hadn’t needed to venture out of your house much ever since the accident.
Now, however, you heaved a sigh. You leveled him with honesty.
“Even with the insurance money left over, I’m not sure I can afford one after the funeral expenses.”
Dean inclined his head. “Okay, hear me out…Bobby owns a salvage yard.”
Your brows rose. “A junkyard?”
“Salvage yard,” he corrected. “He occasionally gets some good finds. I’ll comb through and look for something I can fix up for you.”
“Thanks, but…” You were grateful for him trying to help, but you still weren’t sure about adopting a “salvage yard” rescue car.
“You think I’m gonna put you in something that isn’t safe?” Dean asked, squeezing your thigh. The weight in his eyes sobered you.
“Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find,” you agreed. He nodded, but before he put the movie back on, he decided to broach something else.
“So, Benny filled me in on your little fight club moment with Andréa,” he said.
You sighed and leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t fight club.”
But an awkward silence fell between you and Dean as you didn’t offer anything more. He sighed and rubbed your knee with his thumb.
“You guys had a falling out?” he asked.
Your brows knitted together. “You want to hear about my girl drama?”
Ordinarily? Not really, Dean could admit. He liked “tea” as much as the next person, but he wasn’t angling for drama so much as for your trust. He was still new to this whole “boyfriend” thing. But still, this felt like something you could’ve come to him with.
“Look, if you’re upset…for any reason, you can tell me,” he said. “Thinking that’s my job as the boyfriend.”
…Well, shit, you thought, as guilt sunk heavy in your chest. How could you argue with that? 
You sighed and threw your hands up, before they landed on his. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Well,” you said, “I broke up with my best friend.”
Dean blinked at that. That would definitely make it awkward to double date.
“Aw, you didn’t break up, did you?”
When you merely gave him a look, he nodded. “All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
You sighed, but you explained it to him. You told him about your ongoing frustrations with your friend’s self-centeredness, and her lack of self-awareness at times. And while you took responsibility for the way you’d gone off on her that day on your porch, a large part of you still felt justified. Even if that made you the “bitch.”
“Well, look. If this is something that you can’t get past, then I get it. Sometimes you needa cut people out,” Dean said eventually. “But I’m thinking, right now, you need support. Maybe she didn’t give it when you needed her, but maybe she’s hurtin’ about this too… At least, that’s what Benny says.”
At first, you frowned. Your throat was tight with emotion, probably from today, but maybe because he was saying things you had already been thinking, deep down. You just didn’t want to admit it.
“You just want us to smooth things over so it won’t make it awkward for you with your friend,” you shot back.
Dean frowned, raising placating hands. “That’s not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Come on. You know that’s not it.”
You wiped at your eyes, as they were starting to sting with unshed tears. You knew you weren’t being fair. He was just trying to help.
“Sorry,” you said, in a calmer voice. “…I’ll think about it, okay? Because you’re right. It’s not just her…I also just can’t shake this feeling. Like my world is getting smaller, and someday I’m going to be the only one left.”
And there it was. Yet another fear you didn’t want to admit. It was your worst fear: being alone.
You were hesitant to let your gaze leave your lap, to meet Dean’s. When you did, you were met by his softened look. He went for your hand again.
“Listen. You still have people,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if they’re related to you by blood or not. Real family’s gonna fight and bitch. But they’re also gonna be there, like your friend was today.”
You sighed heavily. Once again, you knew he was right. Despite the awfulness of your fight, Andréa had come to your grandfather’s funeral. She helped you set up for the reception, and she stayed until the last hour helping with the cleanup, along with Benny, Sam, Eileen, and the rest of Dean’s friends. They were now your friends too.
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily. “Dean, I love you. I love you so damn much.”
Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. A sigh expelled through his nose as he pressed a lingering kiss into your neck.
Warm. It felt warm in his chest. Almost overwhelming.
He’d been letting instinct guide him since the day he met you. So even though he hesitated to answer at first, he knew.
“I love you too,” he admitted. You held onto him that much tighter.
In hindsight, he’d already known. The day of the car accident, when you’d called him in tears and asked for his help, he realized just how much he’d do for you. The lengths he would go to make sure you were okay.
That you were safe, and his.
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Nick Savage was an opportunist at heart.
Sure, he’d flunked out of college. Big fucking whoop.
Now he stood at the literal head of a multimillion-dollar company. He ruled in the very same office where he once sat on the floor as a ten-year-old kid, playing with his Batman action figure. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d watched his father hook new “clients” between glasses of scotch.
Now, Nick was the one making deals.
He stared out of the immense window of his office as he practiced his putting swing. These golf clubs had been a gift (to himself), and he thought he could’ve pursued it harder when he was younger, if he hadn’t lost focus in high school.
Maybe if his dad had attended even one of his games, he would’ve pursued sports past the varsity level. He had the talent. He could’ve gotten scouted…
Nick blew out a breath.   
“Well, this is what I like to see,” a droll voice said from the doorway. “A man hard at work.”
Nick’s head raised slowly. His brows twitched with surprise, but he soon covered it up with a hint of a dry smile.
“Welcome back, Dad,” Nick drawled. “Where were you? Venice? Greece?”
Daniel Savage was only slightly taller than his son. His build was broader, his blonde hair graying at the temples, but his blue eyes were sharp.
He dressed the part of a wealthy mogul: brown slacks, smart shoes, dark green turtleneck, with sleeves bunched up on his forearms, and a black Rolex on his wrist. Its watch face flashed in the afternoon light as he smoked a cigarette indoors. 
He stepped inside the office, letting Nick’s assistant close the door.
“The hottest fucking country known to man,” said Daniel. He cocked his head as he took in all the changes to his office. He noted the untidy bar area with a critical eye.
“It was fun,” he added. “Got a nice tan. But it was starting to chafe…you know why?”
Nick rolled his eyes and straightened from his putting. He leaned on his club.
“I have everything under control,” he said.
“You see, if that were true,” Daniel said. His slow but measured gait drew him closer to his son. He flicked a bit of ash from his cigarette onto Nick’s shoe. “I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”
“You didn’t have to come,” Nick said, subtly shaking off his shoe. He tried to maintain his nonchalance, but even now, his father’s gaze pinned his feet to the floor. “Everything’s fine. I’m handling it.”
Daniel paused for a moment. The cigarette was poised between two fingers while his arm crossed beneath his elbow. He stared at his son like he was trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong.
“You know how I know you’re lying?” Daniel asked.
He then smacked his son so hard up the head, it made Nick trip over his golf club. It skittered to the floor, and he had to catch himself on the nearby couch. His arm chafed against the brown leather.
“Fuck,” he yelped.
Daniel grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around, until he was leaning against the couch arm.
“Because you’re single-handedly driving my empire into the ground with stupid. Fucking. Mistakes,” Daniel said. His tone was calm and even, but deep in his eyes was hellfire. “Alastair can only do so much to clean up after you.”
Nick swallowed. “I thought…using your brand would send a message. Remind people that our name still has power.”
By that, of course, he meant the various kills he’d ordered in the past six months. Each marked with a burn on their body—a symbol that even now was etched on his father’s ring: two snakes devouring one another.
“My name,” Daniel corrected. “The problem is, you use my mark, people think you’re me. And…well, you’re not, are you?”
Nick’s gaze cut away.
“And I was on sabbatical for a reason,” Daniel reminded. “I was kinda supposed to be dead.”
He took a long drag of his cigarette. When he blew out the smoke, the smell reminded Nick of nights he spent in the back rooms of old bars and clubs as a kid, watching his father play cards with old “friends of the family.”
But sometimes, family friends shot one another over money owed and disrespected protocols. 
“Never kill your accountant, you idiot,” Daniel said. He punctuated this by tapping Nick hard on the chest, with the same two fingers that held his smoke. “The devil’s in the details. In this case, the numbers.”
Daniel shook his head and blew more smoke. “The cops are onto you…one in particular, in fact, who’s a few steps shy of pinning your ass against the wall.” 
And one step away from mine, his tone implied. Hence why he’d returned from sabbatical, Nick realized, with a sinking feeling.
Okay, maybe he’d fucked up putting the hit on Jerry Stillwell, but the grubby little man had been demanding a bigger cut for his “continuing silence.”
Daniel sighed and raised a hand to rub between his eyes. He turned towards the desk and put out his cigarette on an ashtray. 
“Technology’s gotten too good, Nicholas. It’s not like it was 30 years ago. Nowadays, when you start a damn fire, the cops tend to look at that shit a bit harder.”
Nick straightened up onto his feet. His hands clenched into fists with the same fire that always drove him: the desire to be useful. To be seen by his father. To matter. 
“The cop, I know who he is. It’s the same one that tried to burn you last time,” Nick said. “John Winchester.”
Daniel scoffed, giving a short nod. “I know. The man’s fucking obsessed.”
Nick smiled. “I’ve already been working on a plan with Alastair—”
“You’ll do nothing,” Daniel snapped. He glanced at his son over his shoulder. “From now on, I’m back in the saddle. Nothing happens without my word. That includes this company.”
Nick frowned at that. A trill of anger made his nails bite into his palms.
“Savage & Co. is mine,” he argued. “You gave it to me.”
“That’s right. I’m correcting that bit of oversight.”
“We’ve been margining the best profits we’ve ever had,” Nick said. He mentally scoured your latest sales report in his brain. “Our projections—”
“Don’t mean shit,” Daniel said. He turned on his heel, with a hand in his pocket. “You do realize that this building? It’s just a pretty face. The real magic happens behind the curtain.”
He took note of the gold pen showcased on Nick’s desk. He picked it up…and threw it as hard as he could towards the bar. Nick flinched as glass bottles of fine liquor shattered.
“As we speak, there are deals closing all over the world,” Daniel continued. “Shipments being made back and forth through customs, all perfectly legal, as long as it has this company’s stamp…but that’s all about to unravel. And evidently, the only one who can keep the entire goddamn operation from crumbling into nothing, is ME!”
Nick tried not to flinch again at his father’s raised voice. That brought back memories too.
His gaze lowered. Meanwhile, Daniel took pains to inhale deeply, taking more even breaths. His hand brushed back his hair, as if smoothing down proverbial ruffled feathers.
“It’s all right, son,” he said with a slippery smile. “Azazel’s back in town.”
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The next morning marked your official first day back in the office. After a little over a month of working from home, it felt odd to actually get dressed in the “workwear” side of your closet, complete with slacks, blouse, flat shoes, and a blazer.
No more making yourself a nice breakfast at home. No more Dean dropping in on his off days to hang out during the day, making you feel like you weren’t completely alone in your old, too-big house.
Back to the office, where you had to be completely and 100% on your game. Or else you wouldn’t be taken seriously by the would-be Jon Hamms of your office.
However, for every floor that Betsy the elevator climbed, the more your stomach churned. For once, it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to deal with Nick. You genuinely just didn’t want to be here.
“Buck up sweetheart,” as your grandfather would often say, when he watched you pause at the front door, taking a breath before you left for the day.
“Give it your very best, and no matter what crap happens afterwards, you can’t be disappointed in yourself.”
You remembered his encouragements. His smile. The way he subtly reminded you not to be so hard on yourself. The way he always knew how to make you laugh when you were at your most exhausted, or discouraged. The way he’d been your best friend and your father all at once.
You let out a shaky sigh, and you stopped the elevator three floors before the 22nd.
Before you fully realized what you were doing, you found yourself standing in the doorway of Andréa’s cubicle. She looked up at you a bit startled at first. Her brows drew together, but then, she seemed to soften.
You must’ve looked like hell.
“Hey��is it your first day back to the office?” she asked.
You nodded, because you weren’t sure what would come out if you spoke. Your hands were shaking, you also realized.
Andréa’s hazel eyes gentled. She stood and went over to you, resting a hand on your arm. After a beat, she just took your hand. You bit your lip, and your eyes watered, meeting hers.
“You’re not ready to be here, are you?” she asked.
After a beat, you made a negative sound and shook your head.
“Okay. Let’s get you back to your office so you can put in your PTO. I know you’ve got days racked up, since you’re a workaholic.”
You gave a tremulous smile. You let her lead you out of her cubicle and back towards the elevators.
“Nick is going to be an asshole about it,” you said weakly.
Andréa threw her head back and scoffed. “Nick can suck my dick twice on a Tuesday.”
She had you laughing through your tears. Then laughing until your stomach hurt.
She chortled, though she shushed you when you two walked out into the main hallway. A couple of guys from Legal shot you strange looks, but you ignored them. The lawyers at your company were starch-pressed assholes. 
“Wanna grab brunch?” Andréa asked, when the elevator opened up for you two. 
I’m sorry, her gaze said. You gave her a softer smile, accompanied by a nod.
Me too. You squeezed her hand. You two could talk the rest out later, but for now, you just wanted peace.
“Yeah, but for the love of God, not Geraldo’s,” you replied. “Last time, I think I got food poisoning just from the salad bar.”
Andréa laughed and pressed the floor for your office.
“Oh, hun. That’s what you get for eating rabbit food.” 
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Bit by bit, you started to pick up the pieces of yourself.
You ended up at Dean’s apartment more often than not, as being at home made your skin crawl with loneliness most nights.
He and Sam always welcomed you. In fact, Dean got a kick out of trading off cooking dinner with you. And you had to admit, he made a damn good burger.
So you decided to do something you hadn’t done in months. You grabbed every pan the brothers had, flour, eggs, sugar, salt, and the two leftover apples that looked like they were just about to turn. You started peeling them.
Meanwhile, Dean watched you spark to life as you baked in his kitchen. He sat from his corner at the dining table, still able to see you with his iPad in hand. A slow smile grew across his face.
“Apple pie?” he asked.
You looked up at him. “Apple cake. I don’t think I can compete with your mom’s recipe.”
“Damn, I really wish we had it,” he said. “I’d trust you do to it right.”
You tossed him a smile back. “Well, that’s high praise. Maybe one day I’ll give it a try…I don’t think I’ve made pie in a while.”
Dean watched you mix ingredients, whipping up a storm with the wooden spoon in the bowl. You dearly missed your Kitchen Aid mixer.
“You guys really need a better arsenal up in here,” you muttered. “Feel like I’m a damn Quaker churning butter over here.”
Your boyfriend burst out laughing. You looked up at him, your lips tugging back into a smile. You hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but at least someone thought you were funny.
Dean tilted his head thoughtfully while he scrolled through football highlights on the small screen.
“Well, if you’re going to be over here more often, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game,” he said, “hit up a Homegoods.”
Your smile started to fall, as something occurred to you. “Oh, you don’t have to do all that.”
Dean noticed the shift in you, with a frown of his own.
“What?” he asked. You glanced over at him.
“Nothing, just…” You sighed. Hands on your hips, you paused in your churning to turn towards him. “It’s okay that I’ve been hanging out here more often, right? I mean…you’ll tell me if you need space. Or if Sam—”
Dean held up a hand. “Hold up. I’m gonna stop you right there.”
He set down his iPad on the table and got up from his seat. He joined you in the kitchen, letting his hand skim the counter as he drew into your personal space. You looked up at him and unconsciously held your breath.
Dean stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Have I said or done something to make you think I don’t want you here? Has Sam?”
You frowned, but you shook your head. “No, baby. I just want to make sure I’m not…I don’t know, overstaying my welcome.”
His eyes met yours frankly. “You’re not.”
His hand fell from your face, just to bring you in close by your waist. He dropped a kiss onto your forehead.
“I’d just be worrying about you over there anyway. Alone in that big house,” he admitted.
You blew out a breath and leaned into him, resting your hands against his chest.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “Grandpa told me to sell it, but…I don’t know if I can do that.”
Dean didn’t want to tell you what to do here. Personally, he thought you’d be better off selling it, both for practical reasons and for your own wellbeing. But he could also understand the sentimental side of it too.
“Well, you’ve got time to figure it out,” he said.
You nodded. A smile returned to your face, and you looked up at him.
“But first, cake,” you said.
Dean smiled down at you. He could certainly live with that.
He later moaned while sampling said confection. The apple and spices were the perfect ratio of sweetness to softness. The cake was buttery and delicious. And you really were talented, he thought.
“I’m telling you, babe, you really need to get back into this,” he said around another bite. “I mean professionally. Who needs corporate assholes when you’ve got cinnamon apples?”
Sitting across from him at the dining table, you giggled at the sight of this massive man child with his mouth full. Though he might’ve had a point…maybe it was time to revisit your “pipe dream.” Or at least the very thing you went to school for.
If only working at a bakery slinging pastry dough paid the same as your sales job.
“This was my grandma’s recipe,” you told him. “She’s the one who taught me how to cook, how to bake.”
Dean made a “top notch” symbol with his hand. “She sure knew what she was doin’.”
Your good humor soon faded, though you tried to hide it. You were tired of bringing down the people around you. You wanted to just be yourself again…but it seemed your heavy heart wouldn’t let you.
You realized you hadn’t succeeded when Dean’s hand fell over yours. You looked up and met his eyes. They asked a question without speaking as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.
“My family’s gone, Dean,” you said wearily, fighting the tears stinging in your eyes.
You still technically had extended family members, but most of them had always looked down at your grandparents, after seeing how they’d “failed” with your mother, then raised the daughter she’d had from a one-night stand she’d met in a bar. Those same people had pitied you when you were young, and barely looked you in the eyes at both of your grandparents’ funerals.
So in your mind, the only real family you had was gone.
But Dean squeezed your hand.
“No,” he said. “They’re right here. In these hands.”
Once again his thumb swept across the back of your knuckles. “You’ve still got what they gave you. Your mind, your spirit, and a lot of other things that make you, you…”
His lips pulled at a smile.
“And you’ve still got me,” he added.
Slowly, you smiled back. You leaned over and held his face in your hands, stroking his stubble covered cheeks.  
“That I do,” you said, and your voice only shook a little. “Thank God for that.”
When you kissed him, it felt as natural as taking a breath. You two had shared tender moments in the past few weeks, born of pain and comfort. But this time had a spark of hunger as your hand drifted down his neck.
Dean kissed you back, pleasantly surprised by the demand of your tongue. He hummed in question, though he gripped your arms to keep you close.
You answered him by licking further into his mouth, kissing him deeper. You broke for a moment, just to meet his eyes. The heat in his was familiar, prickling delightful sensations across your skin. Especially when he dragged you into his lap and continued to devour you against the kitchen table.
Your hands slipped under his black Henley and between the muscles in his back. Some of them twitched under your touch, and you let your nails drag slowly back down his spine.
Fuck, he shuddered. It felt nice (and arousing), but it reminded him of other times your nails had raked across his back.
He gripped your thighs tight, and he contemplated laying you out right here on the dining table, for all he cared. Matter of fact, he’d eat apple cake off your body, if you were down for it.
Unfortunately, that was when Sam finally unlocked the door and got home from work. He caught you and Dean breathless and pupils wide, your hair frizzy and your shirt halfway up over your bra. You hastily tugged it down, while he did the same for himself.
Meanwhile, Sam just rolled his eyes.
“You do have a room, you know,” he said wryly.
Dean cleared his throat and shot you a meaningful look. You nodded, slipping off his lap. But you grabbed his hand and pulled him up with you.
Dean shot his brother a wink over his shoulder. “When the room’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”
Sam scoffed. “As if I’d give myself that kind of family trauma.”
“Leftovers are in the fridge, Sam!” you called, even though you were halfway down the hall with Dean on your heels.
Sam huffed as he heard your squeal, followed by a door slamming shut. And yet, he smiled. His brother might’ve become part of the “happily committed,” but some things just didn’t change.
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Afterwards, you really felt nothing but peace.
Your head rested on your arms, across Dean’s lap. You were comfortable and naked and tangled in his sheets, while he soothed a hand through your wild hair. Ace Ventura played on the TV, and you enjoyed listening to him laugh.
You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to be as vocal. Your body shook in silent laughter, goaded on by his. And that was enough for Dean.
It was enough for you too.
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AN: 🥹 I hope you enjoyed that bit of hurt/comfort at the end there, but really throughout this. Dean's really proved himself, hasn't he? But let's talk about "Azazel"...
Did you like the reveal? It changes how you look at Nick, huh?
Well, he's about to get worse.
(Don't worry too much though. There will be protective!Dean.)
Next Time:
He grabbed your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”
You shoved his hand off of you.
“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”
Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge.
Keep Reading: PART 13
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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via-l0ve · 3 months
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Hi!! Can I please request "what the spn boys would be like at their weddings?" I just love the fluff <3
I also adore your writing! Thanks!!
What the SPN boys’s weddings would include! (SPN Pref!)🩷
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a/n: i love wedding fluff. when is it my turn to kiss them?
warnings: marriage?? some sexual innuendo but that’s it!
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dean:
dean has you make the guest list with a couple “must go’s” on his part. he just knew you had a bigger family so he let you do that
he has a bunch of food there. burgers, fries, seafood, everything.
he definitely goes simplistic, wears a blue suit with a tie that’s your favorite color
he wears a matching bracelet with you so he can have a piece of you with him for the entire night
i feel like the bracelet would be unique
like the band of your underwear or your bra strap HA
i love him
he never thought he’d get married
so when he’s standing at the alter he sobs
he makes a big playlist of all your favorite songs with some of his in there too
afterwards he takes you on a trip to italy
and let’s say he revoked your walking abilities
but in the sweetest way!
Sam:
sam wants to pamper you
he absolutely worships you in that dress
definitely sobs at your first dance
he fork feeds you food
makes the most heartfelt speech you’ve ever heard
he also makes sure all the flowers are your favorites
when it’s time for you to dance with your parents/whoever else, he stands by dean and bobby with tears in his eyes and just watches you
he fucking loves you dude
he gave up the thought of marriage.
but here he is with his definition of beauty.
he takes you on a honeymoon to Bora Bora and you guys swim and take advantage of the privacy
castiel:
lots of people come to the wedding
lost popping in and out
he must first look with you he just keeps touching and hugging you
he brings you gifts and flowers
if you get overwhelmed he will blip you into a flower field
he also most definitely sobs
sam and dean are his groomsmen
he kisses you so gently at the alter. like you’ll break
for the honeymoon he takes you to your dream vacation
he literally buys you anything you want
like omg spoiled
he also spoils you in other ways fr
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samdeancrimespree · 1 month
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so i just rewatched 1x06 skin… there are a few things about the scene at the end when sam is tied up and the shifter is having its little villain speech moment that just hit me
so it had Just been wearing Rebecca’s skin to trap him, but then it switches back to dean, ig to freak Sam out or upset him. the shifter says it’s so that dean gets framed for the murder but like girl u could’ve just killed sam when he was unconscious, it would’ve been way easier. and based on that weird convo they had in the sewers, it’s already established that the shifter wants to use dean to hurt him. Also i find it funny how every other murder in the episode is between romantic partners and then the shifter decides to do the same thing to sam and dean. Anyway
and then. the shifter says “i will be sorry to lose this skin. your brother’s got a lot of good qualities. you should appreciate him more.” which Sounds like it’s about deans physical appearance, because i highly doubt the shifter is gonna be upset to lose dean’s trauma-ridden, sam-obsessed brain. which is completely and utterly INSANE to say to someone about their brother. except that the shifter also knows deans thoughts and memories. see where i’m going with this
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months
Text
Halloween Under The Sea
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: Sam and Dean’s five year old sister convinces them to celebrate Halloween
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“Please please please!”
“I don’t get it,” Dean groaned. “You’ve never cared about Halloween before, why do you want to celebrate so bad now?”
“You didn’t tell me how cool it was before,” you argued. “But-but me and Sammy went to the park today, and we met a girl,” you took a deep breath, pausing in your rapid fire speech before continuing. “And she was my age, and she-and she was so cool!” You were so excited that your brain couldn’t keep up with your tongue. “And she told me all about how you dress up, and get candy, and it’s lots of fun!”
“Thanks, Sam,” Dean mumbled.
“Hey, I didn’t know that kid was gonna do that,” Sam hissed back. “If you’d have taken her to the store with you like I said-“
“So can we do Halloween?” Your voice broke up the whispered argument.
“Look, kid-“ Dean’s negative tone was cut short when he took one look at your pleading face. “Dang it,” he muttered. “When did you get so cute?” He took a deep breath. “What did you want to dress up as again?”
“This is ridiculous,” Sam groaned.
“Hey, at least you got the human,” Dean said.
“I’ll take a lobster over this itchy prince costume any day,” Sam grumbled.
“Dude, Sebastian is a crab,” Dean said.
“I can’t believe you know its name,” Sam scoffed.
“Are you kidding? Y/N made me watch the movie four times to prep for tonight,” Dean huffed. “You’re just lucky you managed to find excuses to get out of it.”
“Yeah, and even with the excuses I had to watch it twice.”
“It’s time, it’s time, it’s time!” Both boys quieted at the sound of your yelling as you exited the bathroom, a bright red wig on your head, and Ariel’s iconic pink dress swishing around with every movement.
“Commere baby,” Dean kneeled down to straighten your very-crooked wig, and you grinned at him.
“Why thank you, Sebastian,” you giggled, and he smiled tolerantly.
“Any time, fair princess.”
“Prince Eric!” Sam smiled when you turned to look at him, and he bowed when you curtsied. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
“Of course.” Sam did his best to play along, holding out his arm to escort you out. Dean trailed behind, struggling to fit through the small door with his giant shell hanging off his back.
This is going to be a long night, Dean thought. But then, when he finally made it out the door, he saw you again.
You were hanging off Sam’s arm, the biggest grin on your face, and Sam was laughing at something you had said.
Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Especially since Dean managed to get a picture of Sam dressed up like a Disney prince. It was too bad that he didn’t know Sam also snapped a picture of him dressed like a crab.
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aesthetic-babyyy · 6 months
Text
Because I love you!~ Dean Winchester imagine
Warnings// Angst, Fluff and a little bit of smut, Sam’s a lil bit of an idiot
Word count// 1706
(Gif from Pinterest)
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Dean was cleaning the dried blood around the edges of the three stitched up claw marks on Y/Ns side when she slowly opened her eyes “Dean?” She asked, still groggy from waking up. Dean looked up acknowledging that he heard her but still not saying anything “how are you feeling Y/N” Sam asked sitting on the other bed watching for any sign of his friend to wake up so he knew she was okay, Y/N turned her head slightly to look at the younger Winchester seeing the blood that covered his arms and grey shirt, “I-I’m okay…is that mine?” She asked her voice wavering at the end “yeah you lost a lot of blood, we were really scared there for a bit” Sam said and Dean scoffed making both of us turn to him
“Dean don’t!” Sam knew a blow out was coming but he also knew Y/N was in no condition to fight, not tonight, “don’t what Sam, she was an idiot for doing that!” Dean said grabbing the blood covered towels and throwing them in the trash, “excuse me? I’m an idiot for saving your life?” Y/N said trying to sit up, Sam and as quick to help her placing her against the pillows to keep her stitches from tearing Dean turned to her an enraged look in his face “yes you are Y/N, don’t ever try to save my life again! I don’t want you hunting with us anymore, you can leave once your side is healed” Dean said making Y/N tear up at his statement, she tried to control her tears not wanting to give Dean the satisfaction of making her this upset, dean turned away from her storming towards the fridge, opening it only to see there was no beer left.
“I’m going to get food and beer” he said grabbing his jacket heading for the door, Sam was quick to storm after him yelling for his brother to stop, Y/N stared at Dean in shock and sadness, once Sam had shut the door she finally let her self go, sobbing into her hands, if dean wanted her gone, fine she’d leave before he got back. After taking a few minutes to calm down and ignore the yelling outside she moved to get off the bed gasping in pain holding the her side that was wrapped in a bandage, she was slipping her shoes on with great difficulty when the older Winchester was coming back into the room muttering about how much of an ass Sam is, Y/N hadn’t beard him yet, too focused on getting her freaking shoe to co operate “the hell do you think your doing?!” Dean yelled before moving to help her sit back up on the bed and gently taking her shoe from her
She wouldn’t let go of her shoe, snatching it back off him she kept her gaze off him because she knew if she did she’d break into tears again “I’m leaving just like you want me to do!” She said trying to stand to her shoe clad feet, however deans hands on her shoulders keeping her down was preventing her from doing so “let me go!” She demanded trying to push deans hands off her “Y/N just listen to me” he said not taking his hands off her “no dean, I heard you loud and clear! I’m leaving tonight!” She said finally getting his hands off her shoulders, she was finally able to stand, she slowly made her way towards her bag on the small dirty couch of the motel.
Dean was walking in front of her he gently took her wrist in his grasp “Y/N I didn’t mean what I said, I want you to stay with us. Look I was pissed you got hurt and I-” she cut him off “no dean, you don’t get to be pissed, I’m not sorry for pushing you out of the way” taking a shaky breath she continued “if I could go back in time, I’d do it all over again Dean because I love you!” She exclaimed, Deans eyes were wide in shock, his jaw slack, without saying anything more Y/N pulled her arm away from him and turned away heading for the motel room door.
“wait! Y/N please just stop!” She heard Dean yell as he chased after her, sighing she turned around ready for the ‘I’m sorry I just don’t like you like that’ speech. Dean was rushing towards her before coming to a stop centimetres from her he gently placed his left hand on her waist careful to avoid the injury, and his right hand on her cheek he pulled her into a gentle yet firm kiss, gasping into the kiss she didn’t respond for a second before letting the bag on her should fall to the ground she took the lapels of deans jacket clutching the fabric tightly in her hands, kissing him back with everything she had, it wasn’t long before she felt deans tongue swiping at her bottom lip, begging for entrance to which Y/N granted, patting her lips slightly to let their tongues meet in a heated kiss
Dean moved his hand from her face to the back of her head holding her closer, his fingers running through her hair, the two parted for air but quickly reunited, this kiss more heated than the last as dean moved her to the wall on the building he tapped the back of her thigh signalling for her to jump which she did, careful not to heart her side, Y/N wrapped her legs around Dean’s hips pulling him closer so he was hitting her center making her moan his name, Dean smirked pulling away from her lips he moved his kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking his way down to her chest, Y/N was a moaning mess running her fingers through his short spiky hair “maybe we should take this inside?” Y/N asked through moans, not answering dean grabs her ass, holding her up as he moved them towards the motel room which door was still wide open.
Dean gently laid her on the bed, much like he had earlier, Y/N was kicking off her shoes as Dean was pulling away from her now red neck, rushing to get his jacket and flannel off, he didn’t have much time before Y/N was pulling the collar of his shirt Dow to her level she was kissing his swollen lips, wrapping the leg on her uninjured side around his hips once again digging her heel into his lower back so the hardness concealed in his jeans was pressing against her, Y/N moved her hands up his shirt to pull it off, Dean got the hint and was pulling away from the kiss to pull his shirt over his he through it behind him ready to dip back to the sensual kiss
“hey! What the- Oh my god” Sam exclaimed rushing to turn his back to the lovers, Dean sighed against her neck as his head and shoulders dropped disappointed in how they were interrupted “mind reading the room Sammy and leaving” Dean said not making any signs of moving away “while I would love to leave this room, which believe me I would, but Bobby called we gotta get going he said there’s a vampire nest in Ohio causing a lot of trouble and we’re the closest hunters in the area” Dean rolled his eyes sitting up “well then get out and give us 5 minutes” Sam was already running to the door at this point and Dean had turned to face Y/N “sweetheart, I really am sorry for what I said earlier… and incase you didn’t get what I was saying there, I love you too and I’d really like to take you out for a drink” Y/N smiled grabbing deans warm hand and joking it in hers “you asking me on a date Winchester?” Dean smirked at her “yeah I definitely am” she tugged his hand pulling him back down to her giving a gentle kiss before pulling away “I’d love to go on a date with you Dean”, Dean opened his mouth to respond but the horn of the impala stopped him “ya know I’m gonna kill that idiot” Dean said standing to pull his shirts and jacket back on before helping Y/N with her shoes, he wrapped his arm around her waist helping her up from the bed, they grabbed their bags and head to the impala where Sam was waiting for the two lovers very impatiently.
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scoobydoodean · 1 month
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Everyone (besides the Braedens) is so annoying about Dean in 6.01. In a way, he's almost treated like some sort of exotic animal by other hunters—"the hunter who got out" is considered an impossibility in the hunting world—both from a moral perspective, and from a trauma perspective.
Bobby keeps repeating "You were out" when Dean gets mad at him and Sam for keeping Sam's resurrection a secret, and while there is obviously a loving angle in Bobby wanting Dean (someone he views as a son) to live a long life, the secret is so unapologetically cruel in the face of Dean's grief that Bobby's actions also suggest more personal motivations. This, along with Dean's demand "Good for who?" when Bobby insists he made the good choice, almost lends itself to the idea that this wasn't just about Dean. It was about something Dean symbolized for Bobby. Dean was living proof that hunters could get out, and have families, and live long lives, and this probably soothes something in Bobby as someone who lost his wife tragically right after an emotional betrayal. In "Death's Door", Bobby is implied to have had a vasectomy he never told Karen about. He was the child who ruined everything he touched according to his abusive father, and decided never to have children because of it. Bobby still grieves losing Karen, and he grieves what could have been if he hadn't let his dad get in his head. Like Bobby, Dean is also a person accused of having a corrupting touch, and Bobby is very aware of Dean's self-worth issues (2.22) and I think sees a lot of his own emotional hangups in Dean. So I think it's possible that for Bobby, seeing Dean get to be happy is something Bobby needs... for himself in a sense? While being something he wants for someone he loves, it also just... soothes something inside him, symbolically and personally.
Other characters don't react so positively to Dean as a symbol representing hunters being able to get out and overcome the tragedies that generally bring them into the life to begin with. The Campbells immediately look down on Dean for not being a hunter anymore, treating him as a greenhorn, suggesting he was never meant for the work they do (his features are too "delicate"), poking around his house like it's a zoo exhibit. Sam also joins in, mocking Dean for having golf clubs.
Samuel feigns sympathy, saying he "gets it" because Mary wanted out of the life too, but it's just a little carefully placed pathos before he launches into giving Dean the same speech Mary was likely subjected to repeatedly, telling Dean they need all hands on deck, that he has a responsibility but would rather "play golf" (which is really what shows most that Samuel has zero understanding of why Dean or his own daughter wanted normal lives).
Sam also completely switches up on Dean by the end of the episode, going from justifying keeping his resurrection a secret because Dean was happy, to saying that Dean can't be normal and should return to hunting because he's putting Lisa and Ben in danger by being with them. Of course, soulless Sam flip flops because he doesn't actually care about whether or not Dean is happy. He was going through the motions of wanting Dean to be happy because he thought it was what he should want based on his memories, and he didn't have any emotional need for his brother and therefore no reason to bother him or care that he was grieving someone who was alive. But the moment he saw Dean display the heart of a hero, rushing to try and save his neighbors when all hope was lost, he saw something that he thought would be useful—someone with a heart who might make the "rules" of how to conduct himself more clear. Dean then seemed like a useful asset.
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pagannatural · 2 months
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1.21 Salvation
-John finally, after some 22 years, lets his sons in on his plans and shows them everything he’s got on the demon that killed their mom and Jess.
-John is such a good character. I’m not really interested in liking or disliking him, I just love his part in this story. He reacted to an unimaginable situation in a human way. Who among us can say, really, how we would parent two small children if our wife was brutally murdered on the ceiling by a demon who then burned down our entire house? John truly thought the whole world was a war zone so he made his kids soldiers rather than getting them to safety. To understand John you have to understand that Safe and Normal as concepts were destroyed for him. He wanted to protect his boys so badly that he tried to prepare them and toughen them and train them but he also wanted to shield them so he hid as much as he could from them. He taught them that people were dying and they were responsible for stopping it. He put all of that on their way-too-young shoulders all while refusing to trust them or let them in.
Under all that pressure, Sam and Dean created their own world, their bubble of safety with each other. They give each what they need in the most vital and fundamental sense, nourishing each other in a hostile environment. They share something that no one else could ever understand.
So thanks, John.
-“It’s not your problem, it’s our problem” is an objectively kind and supportive thing to say so I’m proud of Dean for managing to shout it angrily at Sam. Such passion such energy
-Sam looks like a little kid this whole scene where Dean and John are arguing about parenting him. Dean stands up to John again and defends himself. He’s Sam’s daddy now (sorry)
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-John tells Sam “I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home” which is hilarious to me because it implies that he thinks of Dean as a homeless man (which he is).
Dean glances at Sam when John says this and then hangs his head. Sam is his home. And he feels responsible for Sam leaving school (which he is).
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-In the car Sam tells Dean “I want to thank you” but the you comes out as “ya”. This happens another time when Sam tells Dean “I still love you” (or something close to that) in s5e11. It’s unusual for Sam. He doesn’t ya his you’s regularly at the end of a sentence. Jared and Jensen both have typical midwestern accents on the show. Jared intentionally changes his speech pattern when he’s possessed, so that words like “wasn’t” or “doesn’t” are enunciated when normally Sam pronounces it like “wud’n” or “dud’n” with a very soft “d.”
Point being, something is causing Sam to shy off of saying these things and making them sound too serious so he says “I want to thank ya” which sounds more casual. When he’s lost in emotion (like later when he throws Dean against a wall and says “don’t you say that”), he enunciates his you’s. I think this is unintentional of Sam and intentional of Jared. Sam’s trying not to scare Dean off or sound too confessional- he’s seen how Dean reacts to that.
-Sam says “even when I couldn’t count on anyone”
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Dean gave him consistency and safety and the knowledge that he was always loved. Dean’s his sanctuary.
-Dean says the house is “burning to the ground, it’s suicide”
“I don’t care” “I do”
Sam is reckless. He has a safe place to land, so he often acts without really thinking through the consequences, and Dean is always there for him. This is the THIRD house fire Dean has protected Sam from. Interesting that Sam asked Jessica, his Dean replacement, “what would I do without you?” in ep1 and she said “crash and burn.” Actually that’s what you would do without Dean :)
-Sam says killing the demon is “all we’ve ever cared about” he doesn’t realize that Dean has always cared more about him than about revenge or justice or whatever else. Dean would rather have Sam. Wild that Sam doesn’t know he’s Dean’s top priority yet. I wonder if he knew that pre-Stanford?
-Sam gets angry when Dean says they can’t bring Jessica or their mom back. It mirrors Dean slamming Sam against the wall in ep1 when he told Dean their mom is never coming back. Sam’s anger melts as soon as Dean speaks and he ends up just kind of grasping Dean’s shirt and pressing into him with this desperate look on his face. They look at each other’s mouths.
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-Dean is accepting of Sam grabbing him and throwing him against a wall, just like Sam handles it in s2 when Dean punches him in the face. They have no normal way to express how intensely they feel about each other so it comes out as violence or care when one is injured. Love and need and pain are inextricable between them- they love each other in ways that are painful. So they just submit to each other like Yes, finally something that feels strong enough. It’s like it’s soothing to express and receive each other’s needs, even as pain. It has to come out somehow.
-Dean says that the three of them are all he has and “sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together” Dean doesn’t let himself fall apart, and he wants to fall apart with Sam here, begging Sam to be careful with his life, to understand that he needs Sam. He’s saying Please don’t get hurt, I need you, I’m falling apart.
Sam could kiss him right now. Dean’s not holding it together enough to try pushing Sam away or protecting him from their feelings.
-Dean says “without you and dad, I-” and I think that Dean obviously loves and cares about John but the real issue is that he couldn’t say “without you, I-” on network television because they would have just made out. The mention of their dad brings Sam back to himself. He turns away from Dean and lets go of him with what looks like some effort. Dean looks lost and he’s also still tilting his head up with his lips parted looking like Sam didn’t kiss him. Sam asks him to call John.
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-This parallels when Dean told Sam to call Sarah in 1x19. Dean calls even though he’s still emotionally involved in the conversation with Sam and didn’t finish what he was saying. He’s just admitted something that was difficult for him, and Sam reacted by pulling away, distancing himself, exactly as Dean did when Sam admitted Jessica isn’t the main reason he’s not interested in anyone.
I’m a John-would-kill-Dean truther if he found out about anything untoward going on between his boys, so the mention of their Dad and the fact that he’s in danger would absolutely make Sam force himself away from Dean.
This specific dynamic of Sam pleading with Dean for something and Dean surrendering brokenly to Sam in a Please give it to me Please just take it loop where neither is willing to act makes me want to chew on my own ribcage.
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