#the way dean keeps his arm around sam's when he bends down to pick up the gun.......

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Find Your Way Back Home: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: Dean turns to you for comfort whenever he is feeling vulnerable and emotional. You try to help in any way you can, even if it means giving yourself to him physically. He tries to push you out of his life but you show him that you're not going anywhere.

Author’s Note: This is the third part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is twenty-six, the reader is eighteen, and Sam is twenty-four.

x

It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen or talked to Dean after he promised to stay with you. Maybe he had a good reason for leaving but then why didn’t he just tell you? Did he only tell you what you wanted to hear? Does he feel the same way as you do for him? Your roommate returned home last week but the place feels empty without Dean in it.

You’re in the kitchen making something to eat when you glance at your phone that’s sitting on the counter.

“Why are you staring at your phone like it’s talking to you?” your roommate, Jessica, asks.

“I’m debating on calling someone.”

“Who?” You don’t answer her. “Just call him.”

“How do you know it’s a him?”

“You’re looking at your phone in hope. I know for a fact you’re not into women, and you wouldn’t be looking at your phone if he was just a friend.”

You hate how perceptive she can be. You finish making your food and set the plate on the counter only to pick up your phone. You dial Dean’s number before you can stop yourself and place the phone at your ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he answers in two rings.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? You left, Dean. You promised me you’d stay.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. My dad needed me. Sam’s gone and he needed some help on a hunt.”

“You could have left me a note or something.”

“If it helps anything, I did enjoy my time with you.”

Just like that, he brings a smile to your face. Your first time is exactly how they describe in books. It was passionate and magical.

“Me, too. When can I see you again?”

“Well, I’m finishing a hunt right now but I can come down after.”

“Okay. There’s a diner here that has amazing burgers. I think you’d like it.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Heat spreads from your neck to your cheeks, and you turn away from your roommate so she doesn’t see how quickly you’ve fallen for Dean.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” you chuckle.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you in a few days.”

You hang up on Dean with a smile on your face.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Jessica asks.

“No, but I’m hoping he might be.”

Four days go by antagonizing slowly. Your homework sits on your computer untouched because all you can think about is Dean and his hands on you. He made good on his promise and showed up at your dorm by the end of the week, and you hate how quickly you’re running down the stairs to greet him.

“Dean!” you smile and fling yourself into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he smiles.

He leans down and captures your lips with his. It feels good to finally be in his arms. Your body screams at you for his touch but you want something more than just sex. You want to know his mind and connect with him on a deeper level than just physical.

“So, the diner doesn’t close until really late but I was thinking if we go there now, we’ll still have enough time to go bowling afterwards. There is a place near here that’s pretty cool. The lanes light up.”

Dean bends slightly and hooks his hands underneath your thighs. You’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist so you don’t fall, but you don’t mind the position. He slides his hands over your ass to keep you close to him as he walks inside your building. The door is propped open since they are having new students come in and apply to live there next year. No one is in the lobby as Dean carries you through it and up the stairs to your floor.

“I have a better idea,” he grins and kisses your neck when he reaches your front door.

You didn’t lock it for this exact reason so he pushes it open and slams it shut behind him. Jessica is in class so it’s just you two again. The thought of having him inside you again is getting you wetter than you care to admit. Ever since your first time, you’ve craved his touch. You haven’t been with another man since you don’t want anyone else but him.

“I don’t think I can wait this time, Dean. I just need you inside me.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

He lays you on your bed and runs his hands down your clothed legs. He doesn’t want you to think you’re some booty call but damn, he can’t think about anything else but your pussy. He undoes the string on the front of your sweats and pulls them down your legs along with your panties. He really isn’t wasting time on you.

Dean unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his briefs along with it. His cock springs free with a red angry tip. Precome drizzles down the side of his cock, making your mouth water at the sight. You want to taste him but later, you will. Dean grabs a condom from his pocket and rips it open with his teeth, careful not to break the rubber. He slides it onto his aching cock before running the tip through your folds.

You’re about to bite out some snappy remark when he shoves himself into your drenched pussy. You tip your head back and moan his name while grabbing at whatever you can. Dean falls onto you but catches himself before he can crush you.

“Damn, sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Have you fucked anyone after me?”

“No, only you,” you moan.

Dean sets s a fast pace that has you both climbing to your climaxes at the same time. You come around him first followed by himself right after. It’s a short but intense session that’s got your legs shaking and your heart racing. You’re kind of embarrassed for not lasting long but you just missed him so much. Dean pulls out of you and discards the condom before pulling his pants up.

“If you’re hungry we can go to the diner or we can go bowling first. If you still want to.”

“Eat first. I’m starving.”

You get dressed in something more public-appropriate before leaving your dorm with Dean. The diner is located very close to your college so that college students can walk there if they don’t have a car, but Dean still uses his to get there. It’s not packed which is good so you and Dean can have some peace and quiet compared to moments ago.

The waitress brings you two some menus before leaving to tend to other customers. You look through it briefly before looking at Dean in thought. He looks… tired… worn out. He looks like the shit his father has thrown at him is finally catching up with him. He should be experiencing life in his twenties, not fighting and killing monsters.

“How’s your dad doing?” you ask.

“He’s… dad.”

Well, that’s not vague at all.

“How’s Sam doing?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You haven’t been by to visit him?”

“Nope.”

“Why? You came to see me, and I’m pretty sure I’m farther than Stanford.”

“He left this family. I didn’t make him do anything he didn't want to do. He left us. Why should I go after him when he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with us?” Dean scoffs.

“Dean--”

“Anyway, how are you doing? How is school?”

Dean hates talking about his family because it makes him emotional which makes him vulnerable. He hates feeling vulnerable so he avoids talking about things he knows will make him that. You want to pry but you don’t want him to leave so you leave it alone for now.

“School is good. All of my classes are pretty easy.”

“Still all online?”

“Every one of them. I can still go with you, you know? Company or to help hunt.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“You did when I was ten.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

He doesn’t want you with him but you’re going to keep trying.

“You know, I’ve gotten better at fighting. My building has a gym that I’ve been using almost every day. My aim is better and I’ve read on a ton of lore. I can help you and your dad.”

“I don’t want to taint your innocence.”

Dean didn’t come here to discuss the possibility of you hunting with him full-time. You’re eighteen. He wants you to get an education and stay away from this life as much as you can. He wants you to stay away from him but he can’t seem to stop himself from coming back to you. After a delicious dinner, you two head back to your dorm room where he spends the night.

“Are you going to be here when I wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You let that comfort you into a deep slumber but the fear of not seeing him in the morning is what wakes you up. The spot next to you on the bed is empty but warm which means he left it not too long ago. Is he still here? Did he break his promise again? Before you can overthink, you hear someone cooking something in the kitchen. You throw on something to wear and head out to see Dean in the kitchen making eggs.

“You stayed,” you smile.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“So, we didn't get to go bowling yesterday, but there is this place north of here that has a bunch of activities to do like escape rooms and rage rooms. I figure we can go up there for the day.” Dean flips the eggs in the pan but doesn’t say anything. “Dean?”

“I can’t stay,” he says without turning around.

If he had, he would have seen your face drop.

“What? Why not?”

“My dad called me. He didn’t know I took this little trip and needed me to come back. He’s pissed but I’m hoping by the time I get to him, he might have calmed down.”

“Are you sure? What if you didn’t go back?”

“I have to,” he sighs. He puts the eggs on a plate and sets it in front of you. “He’s my dad and he needs me.”

“Let me come with you.”

“No.” Dean sees the look of sadness in your eyes and walks around the counter to stand next to you. He grabs both sides of your face and kisses you slowly. “I’ll be back.”

You both know he won’t… not for a while. Dean is gone before you know it, and you look down at the eggs he made for you. Suddenly, you’re not so hungry. The first few days after Dean left are spent in your room crying over him. The fourth and fifth day is spent studying and working on your homework as best as you can. The seventh day is the day you realize that you’re an adult and can do whatever you want. Who is Dean to tell you that you can’t help him on hunts?

If you want to go to him then you’re going to go to him. It’s not hard to pack up some of your shit and continue your schoolwork online from anywhere in the country. Dean told you where he and his dad were in case you ever needed him, and that’s where you’re headed now.

There is only one motel on this long stretch of road so it has to be the one Dean and John are staying in. You knock on the door when you get there and wait for Dean to answer. The curtains shift cautiously before the door opens.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Dean asks.

He has his gun in his hands thinking it could be a monster instead of you.

“I’m helping you. Are you going to let me in?”

“Sure,” he mutters and steps aside. “What do you mean you’re helping me?”

“I told you. All my classes are online. You need me.”

Dean has to give you credit. You’re persistent. He closes the door with a quiet chuckle.

“You sure you’re ready for this life?”

“How hard can it be? You do it,” you tease.

You’re ready to take this next step with Dean even if ends in heartbreak and disaster.

x

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural smut #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn fluff #spn angst

[red-meat-my-beloved]

this is the second fic i wrote for @ellinorosterberg's prompt: the angsty one (AO3 link)

Wooden planks groan under the assault of footsteps beating down on them. Sam’s shoulder catches the wall as he barely makes a turn. Dean’s right behind him, cursing his brother’s longer legs. He hears the vampire more than he sees it, easily scuttering along the obstacles. They chase it through crumbling walls and unfinished stairs down to the basement. Sam’s feet hit the concrete foundation, right in a puddle of standing water trickling down along the walls. The vampire turns, jumps, and Dean’s just in time -his back creaking in effort- to avoid it. The creature bounces off the railing, pulls himself up through the floorboards, and drops a loose wire into the basement underneath.

Dean sees the terrible reality unfold in slow motion. The white hot sparks flying from exposed brass. Sam in the dark, turning to run back up but not getting a step in before the wire touches down. An overwhelming sizzling sound fills the horrified silence, snapping Dean out of his haze. He reaches up, pulling the wire on its rubber casing out of the way. The wire crackles defiantly as Dean winds it around the wooden railing. He´s too afraid to look back at where Sam crumpled in on himself.

“Sam?” he calls with no response. With lead in his shoes, he stumbles down the last of the stairs and sinks down on his knees. Sam’s unresponsive and slack in Dean’s arms as he drags him out of the puddle.

Out of direct danger, he assesses the situation. He pats Sam down- no notable injuries. Of course there aren’t. Sam’s going to be fine. They always are. Save for the fact he can’t find a pulse.

Dean’s mind races through his woefully slim pick of options, eventually settling on tearing off as many layers as he can and starts compressions.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four,  his own heart beating loudly in his ears.

He fills his  lungs with musty basement air, breathing it into Sam’s mouth. His cheeks hurt from the force, but he repeats the process,filling his lungs as full as they go and tries to breathe life in to his little brother.

Dean hovers for a moment, listening to any sign of life, but the air spills out of Sam fruitlessly.

He goes back to compressions, resisting the urge to babble useless reassurances as not to lose count.

One, two three four. One two three four. He only notices he’s crying the moment tears fall on Sam’s face.

Come on, Sammy, two, three, four. Don’t leave me here alone, three, four.

Dean bends down, pressing his mouth to lips that get colder by the minute.

“Please, Sammy, breathe.”  He whispers. Silence, save for the taunting crackle of electricity.

“What are you doing, leaving me, huh!? I’m the oldest, I’m supposed to go first.” Dean shakes Sam by the shoulders, his head knocking against the concrete.

With shaking hands, he wipes his face on his sleeve and silently goes back to compressions.

His arms are getting sore and his face hurts from holding back tears, but he uses his anger like a second wind. It feels more like punching rather than compressing, his movements more exaggerated than before. There’s a sickening crunch where Sam’s ribs start to give under the pressure. The sound turns Dean’s stomach, but for a moment he’s struck with the thought he’d never wanted to hurt Sam more than now. Maybe the more ribs he breaks, the closer Sam will get to waking up.

He throws his full weight into his hands, bones groaning under his fingertips.

He counts out the minute and bends down, out of breath and struggling to keep his lungs filled to share with Sam.

He’s on his third breath, when there’s a faint rumbling right underneath his hand. He bends down to give it one last shot, but there Sam is, coughing and alive. Dean doesn’t even mind he coughs right in his face when he grabs his face and puts his lips anywhere he can reach.

Sam moans deliriously as the pain hits him and it’s the most beautiful sound Dean has ever heard. He kisses it out of his mouth, feeling the rumble of life under his lips. It’s takes him a moment to register Sam’s kissing back, followed immediately by a pang of guilt as he realizes what he’s doing.  

He snaps back, and looks into Sam’s eyes, expecting judgment or disgust, but there’s none. Just pain, his face contorting as he reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s face. It takes him a few tries to form the words he wants to say but Dean waits patiently, the both of them shrouded in the dark of the basement.

“I missed you too.”

#red writes #fanfic #wincest #CPR

[youchoseeachother]

Sam & Dean touching each other in 3x09 “Malleus Maleficarum”

#yes these are all from the same ep. yes im going insane wdy ask #the way dean keeps his arm around sam's when he bends down to pick up the gun....... #almost like he's jealous of ruby and he's marking his territory by keeping his hands on sam all the time 😌 #wincest #samdean #hands #spn 3x09 #touchingseries #.anna

[50-percent-winchester-sister]

Just Get Out

Prompt: After John dies, Dean and Sam take it upon themselves to look after you, but...

Dean: 18

Sam: 14

Y/N: 7

Word Count: 2,030

   It's just been a month since your dad, John Winchester died, and all you have left family wise are your older brothers Sam and Dean. You didn't know what death really meant since you are so young, but your brothers knew, and they knew too well. Since you were seven your dad didn't really let you in on what he and your brothers did, all you know is that you and sometimes Sam get left at a motel for a while and they come back bloody and bruised. So when John died, Sam and Dean don't really talk as much as they used to, but for you, they really do try.

  What you did know is how to practically annoy the hell out of them...well...sometimes. You are mostly a good kid according to Sam, who decided to take on the 'motherly' role, and Dean the 'fatherly' role. When Dean turned 18, he decided on his own to drop out of high school, but you and Sam are still in school, and Sam plans to keep it that way.

  Okay now onto the story

  Its 7:36pm, Sam went to the library for homework, so tonight is just you and Dean. You and Dean are in the kitchen and hes making dinner while you sit on the kitchen table. "Alright Y/N, we don't got much tonight, so I'm making mac and cheese...the good kind, not the kind Sam makes," Dean says with a tiny smirk.

  "But De, I don't want macky cheese, I want chicken!" You say with a small but excited voice. Dean turns back to you, frowns and says "Y/N, we dont have chicken, this is all we got until Sam goes to the store."

  "Wait what!?!?! But De I want chicken now!!" you say filled with whine and a little bit of sass. 'geez I really don't want to deal with this right now,' Dean thinks to himself "Y/N please, just reason with me tonight, I'll make Sam go to the store tomorrow," He says sounding defeated. Oh but hell no, in your tiny seven year old brain, you knew what you had to do

Step 1: Be quiet and wait like a good sister

Step 2: Once De is done and sets food in front of you

Step 3: PUSH IT OFF ON THE FLOOR

Step 4: Wait hold on-

Step 5: Why does De look like hes about to ye-

  "Fucking hell, really Y/N!? You cant be fucking serious, what the hell was that for?" Dean yells at you. "De I said I wanted-" But he cut you off and said "I JUST TOLD YOU THIS IS ALL WE GOT" He says louder than his first statement. Now your'e shaken, but you know it takes more to make you cry.

  "I don't care! I don't want macky cheese De!"

  "Y/N, just get out"

...This is the calmest hes been all week

  "Wha-"

  "JUST GET THE HELL OUT" Dean practically screams.

  Okay now that there is starting to make you cry

  You quickly get off of the kitchen chair and you bolt to the stairs where all the bedrooms are. But of course you have to turn around and yell

  "I WISH DAD WAS HERE, HE WOULD GET REAL MAD IF YOU YELLED AT ME!" and then you run up the stairs and slam your door shut, locking it in the process. _______________________________________

  'Great that's just fuckin' perfect,' Dean thinks to himself. 'What the hell am I supposed to tell Sammy? Oh yeah, I screamed at Y/N because she wouldn't comply, and now foods all over the floor and I think I'm having a meltdown!'

  'Sometimes I wish I never came here!' you think to yourself, pretty much sobbing while laying down on your bed. 'wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want me here too-."

  You fall asleep shortly after the thought and Dean couldn't be any more relieved when he hears the door open and to see Sam with his backpack in one arm and a couple books in the other hand.

  "Hey whats-...what happened?" Sam says slowly putting his backpack on the floor. Sam staring at Dean and all the food that's on the floor around him "oh, haha, this? oh, its nothing Sam, just a minor fuckin' mishap!" Dean says laughing through each word with eyes that look like hes about to sob any minute.

  "....Dean?" Sam asks. Its been a while since there was major conflict... well since the whole situation with Dad anyways. "Was it Y/N?"

  "What? No of course not, this is just a normal Friday fuckin night....yeah just, don't worry 'bout it" Dean says with his voice dying down a little bit.

  "Should I go talk to her?" Sam asks. such a small voice but its filled with a lot of concern.

  "No, she's asleep...maybe later?" Dean says back to him. 'He seems tired' Sam thinks to himself. 'Well I did leave her here with him...' _______________________________________

  You wake up pretty early... well early for you anyways, its 9:30am and you got woken up to puffy red eyes and really messed up hair. You go ahead and leave your bedroom and when you enter the kitchen you get greeted by Sam, who is making breakfast.

  "Morning sunshine," Sam says with a slight happy tone, but still pretty monotone. 'he's trying, that's a good thing' you think to yourself.

  "Morning..." you say back, rubbing your eyes and climbing up onto the chair near the kitchen table. "So...wheres De?" you ask in a sleepy tone. "He's more or less still asleep" Sam replies. Sure enough right when Sam says that, Dean walks in all sleepy-like too. 'so similar' Sam thinks. "Morning to you too sunshine" Sam says with a pretty wide grin afterwards. "Bite me, princess" Dean shoots back, also with a small smirk.

  You look at Dean, Dean looks at you, and a couple seconds later you two look away, but the stare you two gave felt like it was forever.

  "Hi" you managed to squeak out. Without meaning to, you were quiet and a little bit nervous.

  "Hey" Dean replies, but not looking at you, instead looking at the table, then to his hands, and then to Sam.

  "Hey Sammy, do you think dad had any hunts that he wrote down in his journal for us to do?" Dean asks. Looking around Dean finds your dads journal on the couch in the living room. He picks it up and skims through the pages.

  "I...don't know? Dad never talked to me personally about hunts, just you" Sam says as a matter-of-factly. Sam sets your breakfast down in front of you, and a plate for Dean on the other side of the table. "Why?" Sam asks.

  "Because I want to hunt? We haven't in a while and you know dad will tear us a new one if he sees us on our asses doing nothing," Dean proclaims, in a slight aggressive manner, though it was almost accidental.

  "But he's...not here," you say out loud without meaning to. You look up to see Sam and Dean both looking at you, and right then you look back down. While looking down you hear footsteps, and right when you look back up, you see Dean staring right at you. 'The eye contact is unbearable' you think to yourself

  "Just because hes dead, doesn't mean we can just fuck around and do nothing," Dean says with so much venom you begin to shake a little.

  "Dean. Back. Up." Sam says, looking at Dean with an angry look and his teeth practically glued together. Sam takes Deans shoulder and yanks him back, and he makes Dean bend down so he can whisper something into his ear.

  "I know you and Y/N have this personal issue going on right now, but I'll be damned if I ever hear you talk to her like that again, hear me?" Sam whispers, he lets go of Dean shoulder and looks at Dean. Dean looks back at him, looks at you, looks at Sam again, and nods, running his hand through his hair.

  "Good," Sam says quietly. Sam walks towards you and bends down, "When you're finished with your breakfast, head on up to your room, you're not in trouble, but I'll talk with you later, okay?" Sam tells you,

  "Okay" You say, looking at Sam. You finished your breakfast rather quickly. During that time, Dean went into his own room, and Sam went out into the backyard to do whatever he does, you're not really sure. You put your dirty plates into the sink and you fast walk to your room, and you quietly shut your door. _______________________________________

  Waiting.....sucks. You have no clue how long you waited for Sam but it felt like forever. In reality it was probably like thirty minutes, but thirty minutes to a seven year old is all day.

  You begin to space out when you hear a small knock on your door. You jump a bit because you didn't really expect it since you didn't know when Sam would come by.

  You get up off your bed and you begin to walk to your door when the door was already opening. you stop and look up

  "...Dean?" You ask. 'uh-oh' you think to yourself. You walk back a little bit and he sits down on your bedroom floor and holds his arms out for you to come sit in his lap. He hasn't said a word yet you heard exactly what he is wanting to ask.

  You look at him. He looks at you. Both have no clue what to say to each other.

  You slowly walk towards him, and you climb into his lap, both getting comfortable in the process

  It had to have been like five minutes before Dean starts talking. "I'm sorry" he says to you. Smiling, you start talking too. "Me too" you say and you look up to see Dean beginning to tear up.

  Okay now its time to panic

  Dean crying is something that you never see so...you begin to tear up too.

  "De? Are you okay?"

  "I wish Dad was here, He would get real mad at me if he saw the way I was acting" Dean says. "Wouldn't be surprised if he beat my ass, just because I'm eighteen, doesn't mean shit to him" he says with a small laugh after the comment.

  "Well I think you're doing a good job" You say to him quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. "Just because you're eighteen, doesn't mean you aren't bad at being a brother, neither is Sam" You add.

  Dean, trying not to just sob in front of you, breaths in and breaths out a couple of times.

  "You're seven, when did you become so smart?" Dean asks hugging you rather tightly

  You giggle at his comment and say, "I'm your sister, I had to have learned something from you."

  "Good answer" Dean says.

  Without knowing, Sam is leaning on the door frame, with his arms crossed looking at you and Dean with the biggest smile ever. "Hey," Sam says and makes both you and Dean jump slightly, Sam giggles and that and continues,

  "The garage called, they want you to come in and help fix a 67' Mustang," Sam says.

  "Oh whaaat," you whine. you begin to get off of Dean so he can go to his job when he quickly snatches you back up, gets up off of the ground and throws you over his shoulders.

  "How do you feel about coming with me? Who knows maybe-"

  "Will Seth be there?" You ask excitedly. (For some backstory, John's long time friend Seth works where Dean works, and ever since you met Seth, you've practically 'fallen in love' with him)

  "More than likely, he likes old cars like we do," Dean replies. "Yes! okay come on, lets go, come on, come on, come on" You say, trying to hurry up Dean,

  "Okay, okay, lets go" Dean laughs while replying. You two leave the room, and Sam closes your door. Again, with a big smile on his face, Sam starts thinking to himself, 'Yeah, everything will be okay'

#dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #sam x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sister!winchester #winchester sister #winchester!sister #winchester

[cowboyified]

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Sam's sitting in the passenger seat like he doesn't belong. As though the leather isn't worn to his weight. Rigid with his hands sat squarely on his thighs. Dean's been counting the number of times he's made them into fists, fingers clawing at his jeans, tendons sliding over knuckles with how hard he clenches - twenty, thirty, open, closed, it gets dark and he loses count.

Stoplight red over the dash, Sam's soaked in it and Dean can see the blood on his neck from where he’d cut him with the knife, held back against his chest, succubus-strong. It's fairly superficial, Sam had wiped blood away with his hand; there are fingerprints smeared on his skin.

They'd got out of town after a sorry attempt at reconciliation, Sam telling him he didn't mean it, Bobby telling him they had no reason to feel bad and Dean's mouth was sick with sweet from the cola, spat out a quick lie to diffuse an uncomfortable situation. Bandaid solutions; they’re good at those. A relationship wrapped in patch-jobs, duct-taped together, nothing aligned proper since Dean crawled out of his grave.

It's past midnight and his brother doesn't bitch about stopping but his hands shake when laid flat between fists now so Dean picks off the next motel. He's not interested in counting road reflectors to keep his mind from tonguing sore spots either.

Sam seems to come back to himself when they pull up, breathes in deep like he'd forgotten to for the last five hours. 

"I’ve got it,” he says, reanimated, clearing his throat after it comes out croaky. 

Dean keeps her idle, lulled by her rumble under his thighs on the bench, the palm of his hand on the wheel. He waits in a less oppressive silence, rolls down the window to breathe, airs the cabin out in case the stifling mood has clung to the fabric of the roof, sticky like that. 

Sam walks under the periodic lights of the balcony, signs twenty-two with his fingers and points above him, upstairs. Dean puts her into gear and turns her around the bend of the building, parks her in front of the blindingly lit concrete stairs. 

Dean breathes out dragon-smoke - Sam used to call it. Air warm from his body hitting the night air, curling in front of his face. He leans his back to the brick outside their room and waits for the key. His jacket catches on the rough wall as he crosses his arms over his chest, hugging himself. He can hear muted television conversations, the dull sound of a Hollywood gunfight muffled by walls, light spasmodic through the curtains next door where the fabric hasn’t been shut completely. 

Dean has his ears perked for boots hiking stairs but they take their time to arrive and his brother-worry kicks him ungently in the gut. Your responsibility, it reminds him in a snide voice. It shouldn’t take Sam this long to meet him. Dean lifts himself from his lean and is about to hang his torso over the balcony when the creak of the impala’s trunk cuts hauntingly through the dark. 

Sam meets his eyes at the top of the stairs, bag in hand. It’s a split second thing, awkward - guilty even. He turns his full back to Dean as he sidles beside him to fiddle the key in the lock. 

“Get lost, Sammy?”

“Big building,” his brother dismisses, shouldering the door open.

The room is too spacious, Dean notes immediately. One bed, queen, pushed up against the wall, lonely in the space. It’s all wrong, unsettles Dean in a weird way, like he’d forgotten rooms without twins even existed. 

“It’s all they had left,” Sam says, sensing Dean’s imminent crisis. He throws the keys onto the wooden table behind the door, they skid and hit the wall. “I’ll take the couch.” 

Dean eyes the pathetic thing against the window - two seater, barely. The cushions are all frayed, cat-clawed, stains hidden by the dark upholstery.  “Yeah, maybe ten years ago.”

“It’s a pull-out. They said there’s extra blankets in the cupboard.”

Dean purses his lips, displeased but not in a place to argue because less than eight hours ago he had full momentum behind an axe aimed at his brother’s sternum. Sam tosses the cushions haphazardly into the corner, pulls out the mattress with relative ease considering the way its springs scream rusted. The foam is paper thin and Dean winces in sympathy for Sam’s back. 

The heater rattles from where it’s badly bolted into the wall, kicking dust around and stuffing up Dean’s nose. He lays under the heavy mass-produced motel quilt and struggles to sleep. 

He’s got the phantom weight of the axe in his hands, makes a fist around nothing and gets no relief. In the dark, Dean sees his brother’s chest opened up on the floor in perfect clarity. Massacred, if Bobby had been half a second too late. Had Sam been haunted by the what-ifs after he pulled the trigger on the empty cartridge at Roosevelt years ago? Mind-conjured images of Dean’s cranial contents sprayed out like windscreen bugs?

Sam is lit with a thin curtain strip, cut down the middle by the corridor light as he breathes quietly on his front, his hands tucked under the pillow. Split in half down his back, his shirt stretching out over his shoulders. Dean’s overcome with the want to butterfly his hands across his back, watch them move with the proof of his brother’s existence. 

The bed creaks loudly when Dean sinks a knee to it, and Sam turns languidly, reaching for him like he’d expected him to come despite it all. Physical apologies are easier. They can’t get caught up in his throat, they can’t be ruined by ill-chosen words, expressions can’t be misconstrued if it’s dark. 

Dean leans over kisses him and Sam sighs into his mouth, tiredly pulls at Dean’s shirt to get him closer.

He tastes metal on Sam’s tongue and doesn’t place its origin until a few weeks later, when Sam’s crying his name from behind the reinforced metals of the panic room, sweating out demon blood. 

#my words #wincest #sex and violence coda #i have not read over this sorry in advance #thank you mary im sorry its days late! #thank u frauke also for s4 timeline solving

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

"Alright Sam, what's wrong with you? You've been in a bitchy mood all day." Dean huffed out in frustration. He's been trying to take it easy on Sam, since he has a broken arm and all, but the kid isn't making it easy.

Sam looked up at him with those stupid puppy dog eyes. Dean wouldn't let him play innocent, so as soon as Sam opened his mouth he cut him off.

"Nope. Don't say 'what do you mean?'" Dean threw his arms around dramatically to really prove his point. "You know exactly what I mean." Dean pointed a finger at Sam.

Sam looked like he was going to say something. He puffed up his chest and his eyebrows knitted together, but then he just dropped his head and sighed.

"Fine." He said softly, then looked away from Dean mumbling something.

"What? I can't hear you Sammy." Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I said; my hair is really dirty and I can't wash it because of this stupid cast." He shook his broken arm in front of Dean.

Dean let out a laugh. His brother was in a mood because his hair was dirty? "You're such an idiot." Dean smiled.

He was gonna call him a bunch of things, like "princess", or "girl", but Sam looked so sad and Dean didn't really have the heart for it.

Dean rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I can't believe I'm gonna do this." Hu muttered under his breath.

He grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him into the bathroom. "Hey! What are you doing?" Sam complained. "I'm going to wash your hair. Now be grateful and take off your shirt." Dean answered.

Sam seemed to be too shocked to reply, so he took to just listening to his big brother and took his shirt off, stepping into the shower.

Dean didn't really know how he was going to do this, Sam just seemed so sad, and he wanted to make him feel better. The words came out of his mouth before he could think.

Sam was just awkwardly standing in the shower shirtless, waiting for Dean to do something.

Dean stepped into the shower too, standing behind Sam as he tried to come up with a way to do this without getting Sam's cast wet. It was going to be difficult.

He grabbed Sam's shoulders and spun around so that he was standing under the shower head instead of Sam.

"Ok so I'm gonna-" He started, but decided to just stop talking instead.

He took off his own shirt, Sam looked at him weirdly. "Hey," Dean said "this is my last shirt, all my other ones got blood and monster shit on them, I gotta keep this one dry."

That made Sam chuckle, which made Deans heart feel really warm. Huh. Strange.

He pulled the shower head off the wall and grabbed the hose connecting to it with his other hand, making sure it wouldn't bother Sam.

He turned on the water to a soft pressure and waited for it to warm up.

He never knew how awkward it would be to stand in a shower with your brother, both of you shirtless. They mostly just avoided eye contact as the sound of the water hitting the shower floor filled the room.

Finally after what seemed like five hours the water had warmed up. "Okay Sammy," Dean said "imma need you to bend forward a bit and put your arm behind you."

Sam nodded and did just as he was told. His hair fell down and covered his face like a curtain. Dean brought the shower head up and started to wet Sam's hair.

"You were right Sammy, your hair is really dirty." Dean snickered as his baby brother told him to shut up, but he could hear the smile in Sam's voice.

Dean grabbed the shampoo bottle and poured some of the liquid into his hands, rubbing it around a bit first.

He started to apply it to Sam's hair, really making sure that he was getting every inch of Sam's head, so he wouldn't complain later.

After scrubbing the shampoo in for about six minutes he rinsed it out.

"Want conditioner too?" Dean asked. Sam nodded, his wet hair flicking droplets of water everywhere.

Dean picked up the conditioner bottle and did the same thing, rubbing it around in Sam's hair, but this time a bit more softly.

He massaged Sam's head with his fingers, rubbing circles with his thumbs, scratching his head with his nails.

Sam seemed to really love it, because he was basically purring, swaying a bit with Deans movements.

Sam lifted his head and smiled at his big brother. It kind of looked like he was drunk. He had a stupid grin on his face and dark circles under his eyes which reminded Dean that the poor kid hadn't slept for two days straight.

Nightmares were invading his head and he was too scared to go to sleep, worried that he was going to see someone die, so what Dean was doing was probably lulling him to sleep. And hey, that's great, Dean is helping Sam, which is all he's ever wanted really.

Sam started to sway a bit too much for Deans liking, and he was losing his footing on the wet floor. Dean sat him down on the shower floor so he wouldn't slip and hurt himself.

He then joined him down there, both of their pants getting wet.

"Come on you big baby." He pulled Sam slightly into his lap so he could reach his hair. Sam muttered something but Dean couldn't make out what he was saying.

Sam's back was resting against Deans chest as he continued to massage Sam's head. The close contact was making Deans stomach jump around, but he just ignored it since Sammy didn't seem to care at all.

Dean found his hands trailing down. Rubbing at Sam's neck, massaging his shoulders, and before he knew it he was giving his baby brother a whole back massage on the shower floor, wet and shirtless.

But neither of them seemed to really care. Dean was busy massaging the knots out of Sam's back, and Sam was trying to stay awake, murmuring his thanks, saying that Dean didn't have to do this, or just moaning slightly when Dean massage a particularly painful spot on his back.

After a while Dean was really just trailing his hands over Sam's skin, taking it all in. The bruises, the scars, the few patches of healthy, clean skin.

Sam was half awake, not really paying attention to what Dean was doing anymore.

Dean rinsed the conditioner off Sam's hair and body and then got him to stand up, holding onto his waist so he wouldn't fall.

He managed to get Sam dried off and dressed and then led him over to his bed, tucking him in.

He placed a kiss on top of Sam's head. "You smell much better now." Dean joked. Sam's eyes were closed but he smiled up at his brother.

"Goodnight Dean." He said.

Dean walked over to his own bed and turned off the lights.

"Goodnight Sammy." He said softly, but his baby brother was already snoring.

#AHHkskska okay here it is #i know it sucks but i had to write it because it should've happened in the show #sorry this was rushed skskaks #soft #fluff #soft bros #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #gencest #gen #calliope hit me #spn ficlet #spn fic #supernatural ficlet

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Under a Windmill

It’s been eight hours since he started driving with that old wooden box riding shotgun; but this time, the driver didn’t get to pick the soundtrack for this trip. It has been silence the whole way, only broken by Dean’s sporadic cries and the crashing of his fist against the steering wheel.

At times, his mind would drift and he’d forget that what had happened, happened—and he’d allow himself to feel Cas’s presence again, as if the angel were still wholly next to him, filling up the passenger seat, filling out that damn, ugly trench coat instead of filling up that old wooden box.

Another scream—another punch to Baby’s dash.

He chokes the pain back down and rubs his palm over the inside of the car.

“Sorry, old girl” he mumbles. “It ain’t your fault.”

It’s mine.

He screams again; but the silence doesn’t argue with him, and that old wooden box doesn’t either.

And that’s the cold reality, the harsh truth—the permanence in all of this. If Cas could come back, he would have by now, and he’d be here, convincing Dean how wrong he is to blame himself. He’d be telling Dean that he’s an idiot for thinking of himself as anything less than perfect, and Dean would argue with him, telling that idiot-angel that being an idiot would automatically disqualify him from “perfection”. And soon, he’d be laughing, because the debate would be so stupid, so pointless, he’d forget to be angry anymore, and then he’d clap Cas on the shoulder—smile at him, and tell him for the millionth time, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Dean reaches over, brushes his fingers over the top of that old wooden box, and closes his eyes a moment.

“I’m glad you were here, Cas.”

He knew the place, the perfect place to leave him. It came to Dean after the first few hours on the road. Earlier, Sam had offered to take Cas’s ashes to the lake a few miles from the bunker, but Dean refused. Even though the lake was beautiful, it seemed like the “convenient” choice, and not the right one. So, he took that old wooden box, the one that he used to hold all of his pictures—pictures of his life in the short time it could’ve been called “normal” … a life he can only remember through pictures now, and he gathered Castiel’s ashes in his palms and placed them inside its pined walls. On his knees, hands together, ashes to ashes, dust to dust … lives remembered, lives lost, all collected in that old wooden box. It seemed fitting—and so very wrong; and then he set out to find the right place to keep all the wrongness he felt. He needed someplace beautiful, peaceful, calm and pure. A place that people would only go to if they wanted to—if they sought it out ... a choice. Nothing seemed to represent Castiel more than the beauty of choice; so, after a long night of driving, Dean finally set course towards a place that he thinks Castiel would choose to go to—if he could, if he were still alive and able to choose anything anymore …

Dean screams again, headlights from the on-coming cars catching the tears in his eyes, making them shine.

The sun is just coming up as he makes his way down the hill, and it’s as pretty as he remembers it being, even though it’s been several years since he’d last been here. He and Sam were on a case—a cut and dry witch’s curse, but the hunt had brought them to this meadow in search of a flower they needed for a spell. They found it pretty quickly. The flower grows all over this area in the spring; but Dean decided to stick around a few minutes anyway, just to walk, breathe in the sweet smell of the new grass, feel the warm breeze on his skin. It's calm here, beautiful. The kind of land he’d love to build a house on and live out the rest of his days—if he could ever be so lucky. It's a perfect slice of Heaven on earth, and Dean remembers walking through this meadow all those years ago and thinking, “I wish Cas was here.”

He’s not even sure why he thought it at the time. He hadn’t known the angel long at that point, but maybe it was because he could tell, even way back then, there was something special about Castiel. There was something fun and unique, powerful and strange, something Dean knew he had to hold onto.

If he had just held on ...

Afterwards, he often dreamt of this meadow; and sometimes—in his dreams, Cas was there with him. They would walk through the trees and talk. They would laugh … Castiel, angel of the lord would actually laugh, and it would make Dean laugh too. They would never mention monsters or the world ending. They’d just talk about good, simple things, and they’d walk and admire the beauty of this place, and they’d be happy … and then Dean would wake up.

That old wooden box feels heavy in his hands now as he makes his way through the trees. He isn’t talking, he isn’t smiling … and he isn’t waking up.

A small clearing spreads out in front of him just as the morning sun starts to swallow up the trees. A thin brook babbles along the far edge beneath the heavy bough of an oak, and an old windmill creaks softly as its shadow reaches out towards the two of them, Dean, with Castiel resting in his hands. The windmill’s shadowy arms brush the top of the box with each pass, saying hello—warm and welcoming. Dean looks up at it, feeling himself ease under the windmill’s watch, knowing that it’ll keep watch over his friend once Dean walks away from this place.

“I’m glad you’re here” he whispers to the windmill.

The windmill spins on, strong and steady … just like Cas used to.

Dean smiles weakly, nods—and then looks once more at the box in his hands, soon bending down, knees to dirt, setting the box onto the ground. The brook trickles over the rocks, muttering into the distance, telling him that it’s okay. It’ll talk to Castiel, keep him company. It’ll let Cas know that Dean was here, and that he’ll be back soon to visit, not to worry. He’s not alone … never alone.

Dean nods once more and then takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as shaky fingers finally open the box; and he lets that breath out when he opens his eyes again, heavy and harsh when nothing but ash is staring back at him.

“Damnit, Cas” he says, starting to cry as he runs his fingers through the gray grains. “Damnit.”

A fist, then a fistful, then another—clutching what used to be, crushing it into his palms, trying to embed it back into his skin, as well as leave his own mark on the angel like the angel left on him. But both are gone now, the marks, the angel. Past tense leaving nothing but the present tension that Dean will always have to live with. He looks around once more, envying Castiel a little, because he gets to stay in this place. This magical little meadow with special flowers and guardian windmills, and softly spoken brooks to keep him company.

But as Dean opens his hands, letting the ash slip away—letting the angel slip away once and for all, his envy slips away too, because Castiel deserves this. He deserves every beautiful blade of grass, every drop of warmth from the golden sun. He was made to rest in the peace of this place, and Dean was made to leave it.

Leave him.

And as the last of the angel coats the earth, Dean walks the opposite direction upon it —knowing that all he has left is that old ugly coat in the trunk of his car, that old wooden box in the palm of his hands, old memories of the a life he’ll never get to really live, and this old place— a forever-home for his oldest friend, forever in his rearview.

“I’m glad that you get to be here, Cas.”

And he is— glad.

The windmill waves him goodbye as Dean drives away.

Ashes still coating his palms, dust still coating his knees—that old wooden box still riding shotgun, only now ... it's empty.

[X]

#Destiel #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Ary Writes #ficlet #Tombstone #spn scripts #13x06 #13x06 tombstone

[onlyangelcas]

boats and a blue-eyed birthday boy

read on ao3

The boat won’t start, because that’s just Dean’s luck. His son is inside, celebrating his 4th birthday, and his surprise gift is malfunctioning right before the big reveal.

Ever since Dean, Cas, and Jack moved out of the bunker and into their cottage-style lake house, Jack had been obsessed with the water. He was enthralled by the lake, spending hours on the dock watching the fish swim by or dipping his feet in on warm days. Cas fueled his interest by purchasing every book and guide about lake-dwelling creatures and plants.

Jack’s obsession was pushed even further when their elderly neighbor had offered to take him fishing on his boat. From that moment on, boats became all the rage in the Winchester home. Books about boats moved in next to the lake books on Jack’s bookshelf, his cowboy themed bed sheets were swapped for a set adorned with tiny sailboats. Dean and Cas had to practically restrain him from pestering their neighbor for a boat ride everyday.

That’s how Dean found himself purchasing a repaired boat from some guy in southwest Minnesota. He had made the drive to pick up the boat a few weeks ago, it was relatively affordable, not a luxury speedboat or ridiculous pontoon, but perfect for about 6 people to climb on board for a day of fishing or relaxing on the water. Dean had made a plan with El, their elderly neighbor, to keep the boat stored in his garage until Jack’s birthday. El was happy to help, even took apart the motor to make sure everything was working and got it in the water that morning to surprise Jack.

Now, Dean is huffing over the damn thing, trying to decipher why it won’t start. Everyone else, including El, the only person that could actually help him, is inside trying to keep Jack distracted while Dean preps the boat.

“Shit,” Dean curses, after another failed attempt at turning the engine over.

He slams his forehead into the steering wheel, frustrated tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Four was the worst year of Dean’s life, for obvious reasons, and he wanted to make sure that Jack’s fourth year was everything that his wasn’t. He knows it’s stupid, to get this worked up over a freaking boat, but this boat was so much more than that. It was a promise to Jack that he would always be there, he would always love him. So if he’s a little emotional over the possibility that this boat will ruin his son’s very important 4th birthday, who can blame him?

Dean turns his face toward the sky, the sun peaking through the tree branches to warm his skin. He thinks this is a moment he would pray, if he had anyone to pray to. Considering his two favorite angels are already inside the house, it seems kind of arbitrary. Instead he just looks at the sky, watches puffy white clouds drift by lazily, and wonders pointlessly about what he did to deserve this.

“Looks like you could use some help.” Says a gravelly voice Dean instantly recognizes as belonging to El.

He runs a hand across his face, quickly wiping away any evidence of tears. “You think you can get this thing going?”

“I should have told you earlier, you got to give it some gas as you turn the key.” El says simply, nudging Dean out of the way before pressing his foot to the accelerator and starting the boat.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Dean declares, slapping a hand to the other man’s back. “I thought the day was ruined.”

El laughs, adjusting his trucker cap and turning to face Dean with a serious look. “Boy, you think this boat not running would have ruined the day?”

Dean cocks his head to the side slightly, a mannerism he’s picked up from Cas after all these years. “Would have been a bummer if Jack’s surprise tanked.”

“You coulda given that kid an old thing with a couple of paddles and he woulda been ecstatic.” El smiles, clapping his shoulder affectionately. “All he really wants is something to share with you.”

In moments like these, El reminds him of Bobby so much that it almost knocks the wind out of him. There’s a lump in Dean’s throat, he quickly turns his head toward the ground and lets out a wet laugh.

“You and Cas,” El starts again. “And I guess Sam helped out, too. You guys raised that boy right, he doesn’t need things to be happy, he just needs people.”

Dean looks up, his glossy eyes meeting El’s, he gives him a soft smile. “Now, how’s about we go get that kid and show him his gift.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs. “It’s showtime.”

El promises to keep watch of the boat while Dean jogs back up to the house. He pulls open the backdoor and immediately bumps into Kaia, who is looking at him guilty with her hands tight around Claire’s waist.

“Really? This is a birthday party for a 4 year old.” Dean attempts to scold, but there’s no real heat to it.

“Sorry!” Kaia yells as Claire says, “Who died and made you a patron saint?”

Dean laughs loudly at that, pressing a kiss to the side of Claire’s head as he passes. He makes his way into the kitchen, where Sam and Eileen are putting the finishing touches on Jack’s birthday cake.

Where’s Cas? He signs when Eileen catches his eye.

Living room. She signs back, giving him a warm smile.

He can hear Rowena’s laughter filling the room before he even steps over the threshold. She’s standing to the side of the living room, deep in conversation with Jody and Donna. Jack is on the floor with Alex, talking animatedly while he secures one of her braids with a bright pink hair tie. Jack’s wearing a red cowboy hat with a t-shirt that says ‘This is my 4th rodeo’, the shirt was Cas’ idea, along with the matching ‘Jack’s 4th Rodeo’ shirts that everyone in attendance is adorning.

Cas is perched on the sofa, watching Jack and Alex with a fond look in his eyes. Dean slides his hand across Cas’ shoulders and bends down to plant a sweet kiss against his lips. “It’s go time.”

Cas smiles excitedly as Dean sticks his hands under Jack’s armpits and pulls him to his feet. He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a bandana that he begins to fasten over Jack’s eyes.

“Alright everyone, it’s time for Jack’s big surprise.” Dean says as he secures the bandana around Jack’s head. “Head out to the backyard so we can show our birthday boy his present.”

Everyone files out the backdoor and into the yard behind the house. Dean and Cas each take one of Jack’s hands in their own, leading him toward the dock.

“Okay buddy,” Cas says once the three of them reach the rocky shoreline, the rest of their family gathered behind them. “You ready?”

“Yes! I’m ready!” Jack nearly squeals.

Sam has his phone out, no doubt recording the moment so no one ever forgets it, as if they ever would.

“Everyone countdown with me,” Dean says, reaching for the bandana.

“Three… two… one!” The group counts off in unison as Dean releases the bandana in one swoop.

Jack stands there slack-jawed and in awe for a moment, clearly overwhelmed by the sight in front of him. “A boat?” He asks more than states.

“Yeah, baby, it’s for you.” Dean says, a little confused by the 4 year old’s reaction.

Jack turns to him and Cas, his hands still holding tightly onto theirs. “Our boat?”

“Yeah, Jack, your daddy picked it out for us.” Cas states, running a hand through Jack’s hair.

Jack releases both of their hands then, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck so aggressively that he tumbles from his crouched position onto his butt. “Thank you daddy!”

Dean buries his face into Jack’s neck, hiding his suddenly teary eyes, and says, “Happy birthday kiddo.”

Jack pulls away and places his small hands on the sides of Dean’s face before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I love you daddy.”

Dean huffs a wet laugh, looking over Jack’s shoulder to see his family watching with eyes as shiny as his own.

“I love you more, Jack.” He says, smacking an equally sloppy kiss to his forehead. “Now, how ‘bout we take it for a spin?”

“Papa too?” Jack asks, eyes lighting up.

Dean looks up at Cas, who has tears slipping unashamedly down his cheeks, and smiles. “Yeah, papa too.”

After they get Jack secured in his life vest, he takes his spot at the front of the boat, kneeling on the seat and leaning precariously over the edge to watch the boat carve through the water. Cas is seated next to him, one hand looped tightly in the back of his life vest, and Dean is at the wheel. The sun is setting over the horizon, reflecting off the lake and painting them in a picture-perfect orange glow.

Jack looks back at Dean, his blonde hair curling slightly from the spray of the boat, his gap-toothed smile is wide and unapologetic. Cas is looking at him, too, affection and love spilling over every feature, his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.

“I hope I can be 4 forever!” Jack yells, letting out a wild laugh as Cas reaches over to tickle his neck.

Dean knows, somewhere in the back of this mind, that he should be worried that Jack is getting older. One day he’ll grow up, probably move away, and their house will no longer be littered with plastic sailboats and tiny socks discarded around every corner. At this moment, though, he can’t find it in himself to worry. Jack won’t be 4 forever, but he’s sitting in front of Dean with a smile like sunshine, toothy and perfect, laughing raucously, unashamed in his joy, and that will always be enough.

#happy birthday jack #he's 4!!!!! #nougatparty #userzaddy #seraphcastiel #dclcu #djdjdk yes i posted this already but i wanted to include the text in the post not just the link #spn #supernatural

[ejlovespie]

Hold Me Up

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: The reader falls very ill when she unknowingly touches a cursed object. Luckily, Dean is there to care for her.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1966

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Fluff 

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader one shot where the reader gets hit by a witch curse but none of them noticed, then during their way back she starts getting sick and by the time they arrive to the bunker she has a raging fever and it keeps getting high no matter what dean and Sam do. I looove when dean gets worried and when he cares too much. Also I live for angst so feel free to make it as angsty as u can.

A/N: I tweaked a few details but this wrote itself, thank you for the request anon; I really hope you like it! 💙 Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :) 

Driving down a long mountain road, you were headed back to the bunker after a difficult hunt in Colorado. Garth had called about a case where people were being burned alive in their homes. You, Sam, and Dean had found the cause was from a vengeful spirit who had happened to be a witch in life. Apparently, she had been killing the ancestors of a rival coven in order to get revenge when she and her people had all been rounded up and burned at the stake in the 1600’s. With no bones, this left you guys with the challenge of finding whatever was tying her to this world. It had taken longer than it should have but eventually you found the item; it was her old spell book. You were the one to salt and burn the thing. It had been small, fitting into the palm of your hand, but you remembered the weight it carried before you had tossed it into the flames. 

You had been feeling strange ever since. It was almost like just by touching the book, you had been physically affected by its power and it was making you sick. Your head was pounding and you were fighting back the nauseous feeling in your stomach. Dean would kill you if you threw up in the backseat of his baby. Deep down, you knew something was wrong but you told yourself you were just feeling sick from the drive through burger you had eaten earlier. You had food poisoning. It was no big deal. You slept, off and on, during the long car ride and somehow managed to not throw up. Now, you were finally pulling up to the bunker. You heard Dean mumble something in front of you that sounded like, “Home sweet home.” 

After Dean parked the car, you made the move to open your door but you kind of just slammed into it without properly pushing it open. Vertigo made your head and stomach swim and you rested your cheek on the cool window’s glass for a moment, breathing deeply. Dean had witnessed your attempt to get out and had come around to the other side of the car to open the door you weren’t currently laying on. Knowing something was wrong, he half climbed inside to unbuckle your seatbelt and pulled you to him. You flinched when a cool hand felt your forehead then moved to feel your cheeks. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see Dean’s handsome face full of worry. His green and gold eyes were concerned, looking you over, while he continued to move his hands. He pushed a few damp strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheeks again. 

“You’re burning up Y/N.” 

You could see Sam standing outside of the car, observing what was happening and you blushed a little. You brought your hands up to Dean’s larger ones on your face and pulled them away. 

“I’m fine Dean. I think the burger I ate was bad, that’s all.” 

To prove a point, you had turned back around and swung the door open but the motion was too fast and you toppled out of the car in a mess of limbs. You groaned when you hit your head on something and Dean swore behind you. A second later, Sam was helping you up and asking if you were alright. Before you could assure him that you were fine, your legs gave out and Dean was there, swinging you up into his strong arms. The movement had the vertigo coming back and you shut your eyes tightly and buried your face in Dean’s neck as he hurriedly carried you inside. You heard him telling Sam to go get the med kit before he brought you into your room and laid you down on your bed. Opening your eyes was a mistake. The room spun around you and shut them tightly again before the spinning made you puke. Oh God, you thought to yourself. Please don’t let me throw up in front of Dean Winchester.    

You turned over on your side, away from Dean, just in case you lost your cookies. The spinning sensation was so strong, you groaned in pain and kept praying. Dean was sitting on the bed, running his hands over you, looking for some kind of evidence of the cause of your illness. He yelled at Sam to hurry when your breathing became more labored. Pointing to the trash can in the corner, you hoped Dean would understand. He jumped up quickly and brought it to you right before you started heaving. Sam was rounding the bed now, holding a large white case. He sat it down and started refilling through it. Breathe through it. Do NOT puke in front of both of these guys. Finally, the spinning had slowed down and you were able to calm your breathing a bit. Dean had his hands on your face again and was telling Sam to get the thermometer. A second later, he was shoving the tip into your mouth and telling Sam to go get towels while he waited for the reading. You tried pushing his hands away, to tell them you were fine but you felt so damn weak.

The thermometer beeped and you saw Dean’s eyes go wide when he read it. At some point you had started to shiver and Dean was now murmuring to you, telling you he was going to help you, while rubbing your back. Sam rushed in with towels and Dean put one on your forehead while he put another on your chest. Your teeth were chattering and it sounded so loud to your own ears. Was it loud to Dean too? Dean barked at Sam a few more times while he tried getting you to drink water, most of it dribbling down your chin. You had a hard time focusing on Dean and what he was telling Sam. 

“She has a fever of 101 Sam. This sure as shit wasn’t caused by a burger. Can you hit the lore? I’m going to stay here and try to get it down.” 

"Maybe we should take her to the hospital Dean." 

Dean was opening a bottle and shaking a few pills into his palm. You complained a little when he reached over to bring them to your lips and then made you take a sip of water. You were so cold. You just wanted to curl into your blankets and go to sleep. Noticing your shivering, Dean took a minute to pull a blanket over you before he stood up and walked out of the room with Sam. You were so delirious it could have been a few minutes or a few hours but Dean came back into the room and sat on your bed again. You didn’t complain when he popped the thermometer back into your mouth. When the thermometer pinged again and Dean read your temperature, he cursed and started peeling the blanket off you. He jumped off the bed and was out of the room so fast your foggy brain couldn’t keep up with him. He was back in the room in a minute and bending to pick you up. You groaned and complained but he wasn’t listening to you. You were being carried again but this time he was rushing you to the bathroom. 

The shower was running. Why was the shower running? Did you smell? You were pretty sure you hadn’t puked on yourself. Dean sat you on the toilet and was standing in front of you, peeling his clothes off. Wait, what? You questioned him groggily but he ignored you until he was stripped down to his boxer briefs. Turning to face you, he grimaced before saying, 

“Your turn. I’m sorry for this sweetheart.” 

Dean’s hands reached out, his fingers grazing your abdomen as he pulled your shirt above your head. You shrieked and pushed at his hands, confused about what was happening and somehow still feeling self-conscious in this moment. Gripping you around the waist, Dean stood you up and started unbuttoning your jeans. Your legs were so weak, you had to lean on him as he pulled your jeans down your legs before ripping them off completely. You were now left in your bra and panties and you felt so exposed but Dean was barely looking at you. He was laser focused and pulling you into the shower. If you were at full mental capacity you probably would have realized what was happening but as it was, you were shocked when the freezing spray of water touched you. You screamed and tried, weakly, to fight Dean, to get out. Gritting his teeth, he just wrapped you into his arms and stepped fully into the shower. Your teeth were chattering violently and goosebumps appeared on your skin. HIding your face in Dean’s chest, you let him hold you up as you shivered violently from the cold. 

You both stood like for a while until your entire body was numb from the cold. After what seemed like an eternity, Dean reached over to turn off the water and pulled you with him out of the shower. He wrapped you up in a towel before slipping one of his shirts over your head and carried you back to your bed. He wrapped you back up in your blankets before stepping out of the room for a minute. When he came back, he was once again fully dressed. Dean brought a glass of water to your lips and made you drink half of it before he set the glass down and felt your forehead. Suddenly, Sam was stepping into the room again with a book. He started talking at a fast pace.  

“I think Y/N’s illness was caused by her touching the spell book. I found some lore here that some witches would put curses on their spell books to keep people from being able to use them. If Y/N had read anything inside the book, she could have died. The lore says some cursed books can be so dangerous that just touching one can cause ‘disease to the bearer’.”

That didn’t sound good. In an impatient voice, Dean asked, ”I suspected as much. How do we fix it though?” You had started to lose focus again, fatigue was pulling you under as Sam explained the details to a cleansing ritual. 

-

The next time you woke, you were surprised to find Dean sleeping next to you in bed, his large arm draped over your body. You had a slight headache and a hungry stomach but the aching fever was gone. You felt completely fine. Did they do the cleansing ritual or whatever? You gazed at Dean and his peacefully sleeping face and blushed remembering the events from the day before. Other than not puking, you had made a fool of yourself. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you thought about falling out of the impala and being stripped down to take a cold shower. Dean had seen you in your underwear. You groaned and Dean stirred in his sleep before opening his eyes groggily. Looking up at you he smiled and asked you in a sleepy voice,

“How are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Much better...Uh thank you for taking care of me Dean. I didn’t know you could be so attentive and...motherly.” You giggled as Dean groaned and smacked you with a pillow at the last part of your statement. “Seriously. You’re good? No fever. No puking or anything?” Nodding, you leaned over and kissed his stubbled cheek. “I'm good. Thank you. You guys will have to fill me in on what happened but for now, I am going to go make us some breakfast.” Dean smiled and whispered, “Anytime Y/E. I’m just glad you're okay.”

His eyes were soft looking at you and you blushed before climbing out of bed. You blushed harder when you realized you weren't wearing pants and Dean laughed as you darted to your closet to find some. In a hurry, you got dressed and rushed out of your room, not missing Dean's teasing wink before you went.

Tags:

@akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #sam winchester #garth #spn #supernatural #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction

[cathrrrine]

The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 3 - Little Angel

The sound of rain pattering against the roof of the car almost lulled you to sleep, so you turned up the music, hoping to wake yourself up a little with the upbeat tune playing on the radio. Your fingers tapped against the wheel, enjoying the rhythm of the song.

In front of you was the sleek, black 67’ Chevy Impala that you knew like the back of your hand. How could you not? You basically lived in it for more than half of your life—it was a home for you and your brothers because it was the one constant you had in your lives. You still remembered it’s every nook and cranny and the way the leather seat felt under your skin. If you closed your eyes you could still hear the hum of its engine.

You were following them from behind to drive to their bunker. A day ago you never even thought you’d say that you were going to meet your mom for the first time since you were two years old.

Steve knew about your past. You’ve laid all the cards on the table somewhere along your relationship. He knew about your brothers, your hunting life, the kind of monsters you’ve encountered. He was no stranger to the life you lived before you were an Avenger, so when you told him that your mother was brought back to life, he wasn’t that surprised.

Although he was shocked and in disbelief for a moment, it didn’t take too much to convince him that what you were saying was true. So, here you were with a bag packed if you had to stay overnight, on your way to meet Mary Winchester.

“Be careful, angel face. Call me as soon as you get there and call me if anything happens.” He had told you before you opened the door of your car. “Promise?”

“I promise, babe. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m the one who should be worried. What if James gets his nightmares again?”

“Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It’s not like this is the first time it will be just the two of us.” He chuckled, looking down to James who was hugging your leg tightly. “Right bud?”

“I’m gonna miss mommy.” He pouted, and you couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and pick him up, setting him on your hip.

“Mommy’s gonna miss you too, pumpkin.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Take care of daddy for me, okay?”

“Will you be gone a long time again?”

“No, it won’t be long, baby.” You assured him, but a small part of you wondered if that was going to be the case. You hoped what you said to him was true. Spending a long time away from your baby seemed like a nightmare. “Before you know it, I’ll be here to plant kisses on your cheeks again.”

He giggled, “Okay, mommy.” He grabbed your hair in his tiny fists, making you scrunch your nose up in fondness. After handing him to Steve, Tony and Natasha went over to hug you, knowing that what you were about to face was anything but easy.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

“You know the drill. Call me if you need me.”

Their support meant everything to you. In the whole six years of knowing them, you’ve begun to think of them as family.

You slowed the car down as you turned to a narrow intersection, and you hit the brakes as soon as the Impala in front of you came to a stop.

The place you were parked in front of fit the word ‘bunker’ perfectly. It wasn’t anything flashy or shiny, just a concrete building on a small hill that was covered with patches of dry grass and soil.

You pressed the button that stopped the car engine—thanks to Tony, everyone on the team was suited with high-tech equipment—and stepped out of the car, walking towards your brothers who had done the same.

“This is the bunker, huh?” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, already feeling the chilly breeze.

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy like your tower. But we make do.” Dean replied with a sharpness to his tone, not even bothering to make eye contact. He strolled off to the entrance and you followed behind, keeping your distance.

When you stepped in, you took in all of it with a wave of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. You observed the layout of the building; the metal railings in front of you, the high ceilings and the tiled walls. There was a octagon-shaped table with a built-in map on the glass surface, a number of cushioned chairs surrounding it.

You gawked in awe, it wasn’t anything you had expected. Part of you was jealous that your brothers had found the bunker after you had left, but there was a bigger part of you that was elated that your brothers had made it into a home of their own.

You could tell they did so. You recognised a few of their own stuff scattered here and there throughout the room; Sam’s jacket draped over a chair, a coffee mug on the table, a pair Dean’s sunglasses that he had worn since he was 20 near it. It was all just little things, but they were personal items that made it obvious that the space belonged to them.

The three of you had spent so many years living from motel to motel that having a consistent place to go back to every time seemed like heaven. You already knew how that felt like, and you were glad they did too.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered from behind you. “I know.” He saw the glint in your eye when you looked around the room.

You pursed your lips, not knowing what to say.

“Mom’s in there.” Dean pointed through an archway, you looked through it and saw a row of tables lined up. “She knows we brought you.”

You gulped, nervous and excited at the same time. You could feel your heart throbbing in your chest. I’m not ready for this.

“She’s waiting, Y/N.” Sam put a hand on your shoulder, albeit a little reluctantly. “It’s okay.”

Your feet dragged itself to walk down the stairs and through the archway, finding that it was a library room as soon as you saw the bookracks that lined the walls. It was a well-lit space, with a number of magnificent pillars standing in between the bookracks and the tables.

“Y/N.”

You whipped your head around to see a blonde woman with familiar gray-blue eyes, the same ones you’ve seen in your reflection. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of her. It seemed like a dream to see someone you’ve only ever seen in pictures in the flesh.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her lips curled up into a small smile as she tried to make light of the situation. Mary took one step towards you. She wasn’t sure what was going through your head, she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but all she wanted to do was scoop you up into her arms and embrace you in a bone-crushing hug.

“M-mom.” You stuttered, tears welling up in your eyes. You were at a loss for words. “Hi.”

“Oh, my little angel.” She ran to you, unable to contain it anymore. You let her wrap her arms around you as you nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck. “You’ve gotten so big. Look at you!”

Mary missed her daughter. She wasn’t too glad to hear that you had broken off from the family and didn’t stay in contact with Sam and Dean. Even though she was more than happy to be with her sons, her heart ached at the absence of her only daughter at their reunion, not knowing if she’ll ever get to see you at all.

“I missed you, mom.” You exhaled a shaky breath into her shoulder, arms still wrapped around her like you were clinging on for dear life. She was well aware how meaningful this was for you. For her, it felt like it was just yesterday that she was tucking all of you in bed, but it had been more than thirty years since you last saw her, and that hurt her very deeply. It was emotional for her too, and a little bit strange, but she couldn’t deny that what you were going through was different from what she was feeling.

“God, you’re not so little anymore. I can’t believe it.” She pulled away, wiping the tears off your cheeks with her hands and kissing the top of your head. “I missed you too.”

“I don’t think you know this yet,” you beamed when a thought popped into your head. “I’m a mom now, too.”

“Y/N! That’s amazing.” Her eyebrows shot up, a big grin starting to grow on her face. “You know, I’ve always wanted a grandchild, but this feels weird considering the fact that I still think you’re two years old.”

You laughed, tears still flowing greatly down your cheeks. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Of course, honey. More than anything.” Then she started to wonder, “Do I...get to meet the father too?”

“Yeah, yes please.” Another breathy laugh escaped your lips again, the joy bubbling in your chest was too much to be contained. “His name is Steve Rogers. He’s a great guy, mom. You’ll love him.”

“What about your baby?

“James. He’s three!” You chortled, face beaming with pride. “I have so much to tell you, Mom. You have no idea.”

She brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I’m here, Y/N. You can tell me all about it.”

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the two men seated on the chairs in the room next to you had been listening quietly to your conversation. Sam threw a look at Dean, a stern gaze that was so bone-chilling, it even made Dean shift in his seat.

“He’s three Dean. She has a three year old son.”

“So?” He tried to look unbothered.

“Don’t you feel any remorse? Regret? She’s been alone all these years without us and we never even sent her a text.”

“She hasn’t been alone, Sammy. She’s obviously had that Captain America dude around for a while, not to mention that she’s friends with the literal Avengers.”

“You know that is not what I mean.” Sam scowled. “We’re her brothers, Dean. We should’ve been there nonetheless.”

Dean rolled his eyes, returning the same dirty look to him before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “I’m not talking about this now.”

Sam sighed, leaning back on his chair as he watched his brother walk away helplessly. He knew pushing him further would do no good.

This was hard for him. Y/N had been there for all his life, before they separated. She always had his back. When he got in trouble, she defended him. When Dean was a bit too annoying, she defended him. And when he wanted to go to Stanford, she defended him. She had been his biggest supporter and was nothing but a good sister to him. He wished he realised that before it was too late.

No matter the hardships he had been through all his life, he knew one thing for sure; his biggest mistake was abandoning Y/N all those years ago.

Would she forgive him for a sin so cruel?

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x winchester! reader #the devil's in the details spn x mcu #marvel reader insert #avengers reader insert #spn x mcu #supernatural x marvel #mary winchester

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Prime Time,Bitch!

Tagged: @spnquotebingo the keep reading function is messing up for me

Sam said he was locked up tight in the dungeon. He was never locked in with her. She was locked in with him. The hunter becomes the hunted with no where to run.

Warning: Mature Language,Blood,Gore,Character Death?

-"Thoughts"- (they are red for those who can see)"Quotes" 'Reading'

"I'll be right back. This demon side is fighting to stay in control. I just need a few more pints of blood." Sam said as he slung a bag on his shoulder. "Yeah I got it get some food to!" Y/n said with a smile as she walked him to the impala. The roar of the engine rumbled as she waved him off going back inside what she didn't know was Dean knew that Sam just left and a chilling smile grew on his face.

Y/n popped popcorn as she sat in her room a horror movies playing as she got comfortable. A scream came from the movie drowning out the sound of the dungeon door opening up. The youngest Winchester laughed as a girl tripped over nothing her and Dean always make fun of them they had no real reason to hit the ground so they should get right up. This made her slightly sad. Was Sam going to fix Dean or was it already to late for him? Shaking off the thought the killer was about to crush the women's skull when the power cut out,but the red emergency lights didn't cut on yet which was weird. "God damnit." She grumbled getting up and grabbed a flashlight and went to the breaker to fix it walking right past the open door. Flipping the switch the normal lights don't turn on only the red ones and she turned around to get her phone to call Sam when she dropped her flashlight. Y/n gazed at the empty chair in the center of a devils trap she took off running to her room,but paused he knew she would run there for her phone and Dean or the demon he's become won't let her get help. She changed course to Sam's panic room to hide.

"Oh N/n where are you? I miss my little sister don't you miss me?" A metal sound of something dragging on the floor made her tense. Thinking of all possible things it could be of how she's going to die.–'It could be a bat,but we don't have any metal ones in the bunker. Maybe a sledgehammer,but that would have ment he when into the garage and the power going out would have locked everything.''– Her eyes widen as she released what it was he must have been carrying around she was sharpening it with the rest of the blades earlier that day."Have you figured it out yet? I know how you think when a horror movie is playing you see ever scenario before the movie can catch up. No wonder Sammy says you cheat at Clue!" Dean laughed as he seemed to wander to each room. The sound of wood splitting as he yelled "Here's Johnny!!!" It seemed so much worse that Dean was the evil this time a normal demon would know her so personally this seemed almost cruel him quoting films they watched together. "What to clichés? I admit the axe is old school."

The panic room the size of a cubbie it was so small,but just big enough I could calm down and think properly. Looking up another version of myself sat in front of me...my conscience. I could speak,but she could she's in my head after all. –"You can't run. There's nowhere to go doors locked down the moment the lights went."– I saw a illusion of myself running through the halls just to hit a corner and get a axe to the chest before it faded away. –"Can't go for your phone or your laptop he probably broke it the moment he noticed you weren't in your room."– I saw myself creep into my room just to see a shattered phone and my laptop with a cracked screen buffering to open instant messenger to text Sam. The laptop was slammed shut on my fingers causing some to break and get sliced by the glass looking up the sick grin of the Demon caught my eye before the axe ended that path. –"The burner. The one in your dresser Dean doesn't know about it so neither would the demon.Get it and get back here as quickly as possible. "– It was settled call for help. Listening for any foot steps I creep out of the hiding space a faint whistle going off down one of the many halls way from my room. Sneaking down the hallway staying low I get to my room where the door is torn to shreds as I open my drawer and fish out the phone. Going back down the hallway I get back to Sam's room and immediately call him.

"This call has been forwarded to a automatic voice message at the tone ples–" Hanging up I call again and again with no answer. At this point help was no longer a option. The whistling seemed to get closer and I rushed to the panic room until I paused. –"A enclosed space in a closet. There's not much space to move around if he finds you there your done for."– I back away slightly. –"Behind the door offers a easy place to hide and get out,but if he does the same to Sammy's door he did to yours it's not much of a hiding spot then."– A axe goes through the door creating a massive hole and Dean peaks inside and sees the white of you tank top in your (f/n) flannel. The door was whole again as I looked around the sound of metal getting louder running out of time. –"Under the bed allows you to see him without him seeing you,but like the panic cubbie not a lot of wiggle room if he hears you your done."– It was too late running to the metal door of the panic room she slams it shut not to loud to sound like she's trying to hide it,but just loud enough for the demon to register it. Sealing it shut I slip under the bed and wait for the time to get out and hopefully find a weapon.

Boots walked into the room turning to the closed closet. "Oh N/n!~ There's only so many places to hide in such a small room. Did you really think I wouldn't hear that heavy ass door close?" He chuckled darkly as he opened the closet and went to the small door. Dean tried turning the wheel to unsealed it,but it seemed to dawn on him that it could only be opened from the inside. With a huff anger he began pulling the brick of the wall started to bend outwards and crack. I was glad I wasn't in there. Going to slip out from under the bed while he's distracted the burner phone rang its annoying ringtone. Not even bothering to stop it I rush to get out faster,but a firm grip caught my ankle and dragged me out. Turning onto my back Dean stood their his apple green eyes staring at me. "Found you." He lifted up the axe having let go of my ankle lifting up my feet I put as much strength as possible into kicking his stomach. The demon was knocked back into the closest hitting the ground. Unfortunately axe still in hand. Stanfing up I ran leaving the phone behind. -"Sam took Baby so the trunk armory is out of the question. The garage has so pretty handy tools too bad that it was sealed along with the front and only entrance. Kitchen has knifes none that can hurt him,but just enough to slow him down. Library demon blade was in there last you checked,but Sam could have grabbed and put it on a high shelf."– Too many options and the kitchen was closer so that was the first stop grabbing a knife I held it tightly as a stalked slowly to the Library to see if there were any supernatural weapons.

The library was dark and the red lighting barely lit up the large room. "Would you like to play a game?" Dean mocked in a deep voice as he went around the bunker his voice echoing no real pinpointing where he is. I can't call Sam and prying to Cas hasn't worked meaning Dean made angel banishing symbols in most of the rooms. Y/n was getting desprit the bunkers massive size most of it was unexplored by them so being lost in a underground maze b wasn't the best option. "Are you scared yet Y/n? Well be afraid. Be very afraid. I'm what goes bump in the night sweetheart! Never thought the Winchester’s downfall will be by the hands of the oldest. What a twist!!! Right?" Dean yelled turning to the table I saw the supplies I cleaned with,but the weapons were gone and a note was left on in their place. 'Hey Y/n I put the weapons back into the trunk for tomorrow's hunt so you wouldn't have to...you're welcome and your blade was just sitting on the table so I put it up. ~Love Sam' I wanted to cry oh chuck nothing can save me in this buncker Bobby was sending us gallons of holy water next week because we were low...all rooms were demon proof,but he seemed to be a exception now,so no calling Crowley either.

Turning around the library doors open and I duck behind one of the many shelves. "Welcome to my nightmare!~" He said with a chuckle that bounced from every wall. Dean knocked down books and destroyed anything in his way while he looked around. Crawling on the ground I go to leave when the sound of something whooshing in the arm made me drop like a bag of rocks. The axe meet the shelf and I gazed at the red illuminated face of my brother eyes now black and demented. Laughter bubbled out of his chest as he mumbled. "Carful dear wouldn't want to lose you head." Yanking the axe free many books tumbled down. Taking the kitchen knife in hand I slash his calf and go for his thigh when the knife is flung out of my hands. "You little bitch!!!" He hissed now holding the knife and showing it into my stomach. A silent cry came from my lips bot to give him the satisfaction of my screams just yet. I look up at him and just past his head where I couldn't normally reach was the handle of my blade peeking over the shelf.

I begin to giggle and it turns into fits of laughter. Black eyes flicker back to confused green ones. "What's so funny?" I catch my breath as I lean up slightly. "You picked the wrong place to corner me. Wanna play?" Grabbing his knee and pulling it buckled under him causing Dean to hit the shelf letting the blade fall freely. Reaching out I catch it "Let’s play." Stabbing upward into his stomach the same place the knife was lodged in my own stomach. He howled in pain as I removed the blade and ran keeping pressure on the knife wound as I turned corners just to get away. -'He played with your head play with his. The intercomes...a good distraction can lead him away and let you get the jump.'- I hurry to the intercoms not before making a pit stop.

Demon!Dean POV

I growl at the wound on my body the little shit stabbed me. This makes killing her so much easier then she can be just like me. Grabbing the axe I stomp through the bunker. "What a excellent day for an exorcism." Her voice sounded through the speakers now I know were she is. "Would you like that?" I said aloud with a grin. "Intensely." Y/n said trying to make her voice horse before the clipping sound of the intercom stopping rang out before being replaced with a creepy melody that always scared her. "There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." My ear drums almost burst at the loud deep voiced scream ears still ringing I didn't register the blade being driving into my sholder flinging her back I turn around as she's running down the narrow hallway taking the axe with both hands throw it straight and the axe hit her almost dead center in the spine. The audio cut off after the song and I stood over her. Y/n had her face turned coughing up blood I definitely hit her lung. "Thanks for catching it for me." I smile as I heavily put my foot on the small of her back pulling the axe out. She screamed out it was mildly gurgle from the blood. Turning her over my little sisters eyes shined with unshed tears. "Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." I said with a small whipping the few that slipped by she whimpered Sam's name and I grew frustrated. Lifting the axe again. "Looks like you couldn't make the cut,N/n. Just another extra that stuck around for too long." Dropping the axe down it went into her chest the creaking of her collar bone and sternum were whispers compared to the blood curdling cry. They soon died out as her skin paled and her breathing stopped she'llmake a strong demon. "See you soon." Taking the axe out I begin to drag her body.

The lights in the bunker cut back on meaning Sammy was home. Having placed her perfectly in the chair I was tied to I wait until he finds her standing next to the door. "Y/n?! Y/n!?" He yelled most likely having gone to her room rushing the the dungeon his heavy foot steps abruptly stopped. "Oh God! Y/n come on!" The moose of a man rushed in the room cradling her face in his hand. "You were too late, Sammy. She called your name before she went,but I guess five missed calls wasn't enough for you to rush home. N/n fought for so long waiting it out just for you to never show." I said closing the door as he turned to me standing infront of her corpse. "You didn't make things easy on her. I mean you took all the weapons and put the only thing to defend herself on the top shelf...like keeping the cookie jar way from a child. In some way you killed her before I could." Lifting the demon blade that had his own blood on it. I stalked towards him cornering him in the room. "Sure you won't give me a good chase,but woah she wore me out." Holding the blade to his throat when a gun shot fired and a sting hit my arm causing me to drop the knife.

Y/n stood colt in her left hand the axe keeping her up in her left. "Demons always so sure that what's dead is dead and can't be undead. Ever heard of a pulse jackass. " so distracted that she was alive Sam was able to restrain and she held a handful of bags of blood. "Let's get this over with." She bagan to inject me and I felt myself become mire human and I started thrashing hard. With the last vile in hand she looked into my eyes. "You should be dead." I hissed as she pushed the needle in. "Sorry. I'm into survival."

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n This is the last one in round one of the Spnquotebingo and I ended with a dozen quotes.

Title: "Prime Time,Bitch!" Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

"Here's Johnny!" -The shinning

"Would you like to play a game?" - Saw

"...be afraid. Be very afraid"- The fly

"Welcome to my nightmare."- Nightmare on Elm Street

"..lose your head." Alice in Wonderland

"Wanna play?"- Child's Play

"What a excellent day for an exorcism...Would you like that?....Intensely." - The Exorcist

"There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." - The Conjuring 2

"Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." - Hellraiser

"See you soon." - Coraline

"She called your name before she went,but I guess..." -Hadestown

"...what's dead is dead and can not me undead." -Jacksepticeye (DBD playthrough)

"I'm into survival." ‐Nightmare on Elm Street

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