#use them to save dean. and he thought he couldn't have dean (the one thing he wanted..) which is why he didn't make the first move | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apocalypseornaw · 2 months

Text

Us Again

Sam Winchester x Reader

Needing help on a case you're forced to call in the Winchesters. You never thought it'd end with you and Sam finding your way back together.

It's like 90% smut

The solid wall connecting with your back knocked every ounce of breath from your lungs. You groaned and rolled onto your hands and knees, struggling to get air. You heard Sam and Dean both shout your name and saw the creature moving towards you. You grabbed your discarded machete and pushed yourself to your feet, eyes on the monster you yelled “GET THE KIDS. I GOT THIS”

This thing was something new, none of you had run across it which was why you'd called the Winchesters in to begin with. It was taking kids, feeding off their youth. You were hoping decapitation would do the trick. You flipped the long blade in your hand and waved a hand at it “C'mon then ugly. I don't got all night”

You winced a bit as you followed Dean into the door of their hotel room. Yours was adjoining and you'd left the door unlocked between your rooms. Dean eyed you as he dug a first aid kit out considering he'd gotten a slice across the arm and Sam had gotten caught across his left shoulder.

“How ya feeling?” He asked and you nodded “Right as rain Winchester. Now sit down and let me see about that arm” you glanced back at Sam “and I need to check your shoulder too” Sam gave a sharp nod, lowering himself into a chair at the table opposite Dean.

—-----------------

You hadn't wanted to call them in, years had passed since you hunted with them. The last time had been about a year after you and Sam broke up. You could feel his gaze on your back as you began cleaning the wound on Dean's arm. It wasn't too awfully deep but it might do for a stitch or two just to make sure it stayed closed.

You busied yourself with the task at hand in an attempt to ignore the memories flashing through your mind. You still loved Sam just as much as the day you'd left but you couldn't tell him that. Too much time and too much pain had passed. The two of you had only recently gotten back to the point of talking as friends. You couldn't risk losing him again or Dean for that matter because regardless of how close you were with the eldest Winchester he'd choose his brother every time.

You finished Dean's stitches and taped over it so he could shower then stepped back from him “All done” he nodded, his eyes flickering between you and Sam. The question was clear in his eyes so you gave him a small nod before turning to face Sam “Ok, um you're gonna have to take your shirt off for me to check that shoulder”

He met your eyes for a second then cleared his throat and looked away before standing to take off his flannel then slipped his shirt over his head. It had been a while since you saw Sam shirtless and christ he'd put on more muscle than before not that he was lacking then. You had to mentally kick yourself to not stare at his chest.

He sat back down, turning the chair so you could get to his shoulder. You cut your eyes at Dean and he was watching the two of you with something near amusement written across his face. Damn him shouldn't he be playing the protective brother at least? You and Sam had broken each other's hearts at one time.

—---------

You gingerly touched the area of Sam's shoulder that was sliced. It was deeper than Dean's but should only take a couple stitches. “Just sit still, I need to clean it” you nearly whispered before grabbing the wound cleaner.

Sam sat silently as you cleaned his cut. The feeling of your hands on his skin was nearly overwhelming. He was glad Dean had stayed in the room because this entire hunt had been hell on his psyche, from the moment you called for help he knew it would be. The kids you all hadn't been able to save, the new creature that needed to be added to the lore, the way he felt seeing you get tossed to how he now felt with you bandaging him up like old times except now you wouldn't kiss the area after bandaging it.

“You ok?” You asked once you started stitching him. He nodded “Yeah, I'm good” he felt when you snipped off the thread and taped over it like you had Dean's. The fingers of your right hand lightly teased through the hair at the nape of his neck and he sucked in a harsh breath at the familiarity that wracked through him. Fuck he missed you.

—----------

You weren't sure what had driven you to run your fingers through Sam's hair but it was almost as if your body had run on muscle memory alone. You'd heard the way his breath caught and your knees had weakened. You needed to get a shower and go to bed so you could hit the road bright and early.

“You can um put your shirt back on if you want” you spoke then began packing up the first aid kit. Before you could finish Dean's hands covered yours “Uh uh sweetheart. You took a hard hit one of us needs to check you over” you met his eyes and saw the unspoken challenge there.

Either you put you and Dean both in an awkward position by having to take your shirt off in front of him or you ask Sam to check you. “I'm fine Dean” he raised an eyebrow then leaned up to speak around you “Sammy why don't you go in her room with her and check her back out. If something seems broke holler for me but I think it's better you do it since you have seen her naked after all”

“You're as subtle as a heart attack” you mumbled then looked back at Sam who seemed determined to look anywhere but at you “I'm fine Sam really” he finally raised his eyes to you “Are you afraid your boyfriend may find out?”

You felt your face warm at his words. You and Marcel had broken up nearly a year ago. You hadn't loved him, hell you hadn't loved anyone since Sam. Marcel and you were still friends even if when the two of you broke up his reasoning had been “Baby you never got your heart back from Sam. I can't compete”

“I haven't had a boyfriend in a very long time, Sam. You want to check me out and confirm what I already know, come on then” you grabbed the first aid kit and turned on your heel. Before you made it into your room Sam was catching the door.

—---------

“Go!” Dean urged Sam, who nearly jumped out of the chair, to follow you. You were single? Why had you broken up with Marcel? You'd seemed happy with him.

He followed you into your room and watched you slam the first aid kit down on the table then start to strip your jacket off. He shut the door behind himself then was acutely aware of your actions when you slipped your shirt over your head and stood facing him clothed in just your jeans and a dark green sports bra. It took everything he had to not let his eyes graze over your body.

“Sam? Are you gonna touch me or stare?” You asked after a moment and he knew he had blushed lightly. He hadn't touched your skin in a very very long time and wanted nothing more than to but the thought of touching you only to see if you were hurt then the two of you going separate ways come morning hurt.

“Yeah, sorry” he said and you turned with your back to him, moving your hair out the way. Purple bruises had formed across your back already so he started at the nape of your neck with intentions to work down, checking everything.

—-----------------

Sam's rough fingertips started at the nape of your neck. His thumbs worked the base of your neck, feeling for any cracks and effectively massaging the sore muscles there. Your eyes fluttered shut and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to not moan.

Damn him he knew your body so well even after this long. He worked down further, kneading the flesh and checking across your ribs and spine to ensure nothing was broken, asking every now and then if anything hurt.

When he reached the top of your jeans he tapped your hip “Everything looks good” you swallowed hard twice before turning to face him “Told ya”

His eyes went from your face down to your chest and the realization you were still in just your bra hit you “Guess on that note I'm gonna shower” he nodded “Ok” neither of you moved, frozen to the spot.

—----------------

“Sam” you spoke his name in nearly a whisper and the next moment your lips were crashing against his. You were sure who initiated it but his hands went to your hips pulling you flush against him as your hands slipped around his neck pulling him down closer to you.

When you broke away to catch your breath the two of you stared at each other, chests heaving “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to walk away” his voice was deep with lust and made your stomach do a flip “No” you replied pulling him back to you.

He groaned into the kiss before picking you up in one fluid motion. His hands hooked under your thighs so you wrapped your legs around his waist grinding down against him. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently before slipping his shirt back over his head and tossing it.

You worked to kick your boots off as he did the same. Once you were both down to jeans he climbed onto the bed hovering over you as he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss. You barely remembered his injured shoulder as you clung to him, wanting him as close as possible. You loved this man with everything you had, you'd left because he couldn't say he loved you and it hurt too much but being away from him for so long had hurt too so you decided to give yourself this.

He moved from your lips, kissing down your jaw then to your neck when he sucked on your pulse point hard enough to mark you your back arched off the bed pressing your breasts into his toned chest. His hand touched your bra and he glanced up at you for permission. You smiled and pulled it up and over your head, baring your chest to him.

He lowered his mouth to your left breast, rolling the nipple between his teeth and you moaned loudly. His right hand came up to knead the other breast, the action pulling another moan from you. He knew you too well. His mouth, the size of his hands, the tickle of his hair against your skin. Everything had your nerves in overdrive.

He released your breast then kissed down your stomach, stopping at the top of your jeans. “Tell me you want me” He spoke against your skin, eyes holding yours. “I want you” you whispered and his eyes shut for a moment and you saw him swallow hard before he nodded to himself. When his eyes opened there was that same hunger there but mixed with a need you felt in your soul.

He made quick work of your jeans and panties before continuing his path. When his tongue barely grazed your clit your fingers flew to his hair tangling themselves in it.

—---------------

Sam wasn't sure what was sweeter, your taste or the sounds falling from your lips. He knew what it took to push you over that edge and enjoyed feeling your body shake and you came on his tongue. He worked you through it until you pushed his head away. He leaned back from you, slipping a finger into you to replace his tongue. You clenched hard around his fingers, cursing lightly when he added a second and curled them up to hit that spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, the sound of his name being moaned from you was everything. He could feel when you were close right before you came, soaking his fingers and the bed under you. When he pulled his fingers out he held your gaze and he slipped them into his mouth, licking them clean.

“Sam, take your fucking jeans off please” you begged and he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He stood up and slipped his jeans and boxers off. Your eyes trailed down his body and he saw you lick your lips “I want to return the favor but fuck I need you inside me”

—----------

He groaned at your words “I need to be inside you” he replied climbing back up your body. When he reached your lips you pulled him into a kiss, rolling your tongue against his, tasting yourself on him. When you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance you clenched. He eased into you, both of you moaning at the sensation “Fuck you're so damn big Sam”

He buried his face in the bend of your neck, laughing lightly against your skin “I'd say sorry but I'm not” after a moment the pain of the stretch gave way to pleasure. You rolled your hips up to meet his and he groaned “Fuck baby” you smiled when he looked up at your face “I've missed hearing you call me that” he grinned before leaving a rough kiss on your lips “Hold onto me baby. I want to feel that pretty little pussy come around me”

—-------------

The only sounds in the room were skin meeting skin and both of your needy moans. Your nails dug into his forearms as he drove into you from behind. You were on your stomach, pillows under your hips to give him just the right angle as he drove into you. He'd already made you come too many times to count. You were breathless and could feel your body shaking but you were taking everything he had to give.

His thrusts were starting to falter and you knew he was close. Sam had always had a remarkable stamina and the ability to hold his own release in favor of pleasuring his partner but you needed to feel him come, to have him fill you completely. “fuck Sam. Please tell me you're close” you sounded wrecked, completely fucked out.

He moved the hair from your neck, kissing your pulse point “getting tired baby?” You nodded “I need to feel you please” he groaned at your words his thrusts getting harder and harder “Fuck I've missed you…I love you baby fuck I love you”

Before you had time to realize what he said he buried himself deep inside of you, coating your walls as he came. The feeling pushed you over that edge one last time. You knew every muscle in your lower body would be jello. When he pulled out you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He kissed your shoulder “Gonna clean you up” you felt the bed dip as he stood up. A moment later he was back and you felt a warm washcloth between your legs. Once he was sure you were cleaned he discarded the rag and helped you turn onto your side.

He laid down next to you, pulling you over on his chest “Need anything?” He asked and you shook your head sleepily. “Just sleep” he chuckled and kissed your forehead “Get some sleep darling. I'm right here”

The first thing you felt when you woke was the delicious soreness throughout your body. Christ, you'd forgotten Sam's stamina. You moved around but felt a strong arm tighten around you. Memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Had Sam meant it when he told you he loved you?

As if your thoughts got too loud he stirred behind you so you turned in his arms to face him. The uncertainty on his face seemed out of place after how he'd fucked you the night before “Why'd you leave me?” He asked and you sighed “I thought you didn't love me. You would never tell me you did and after a while that wears on you”

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them the sadness hurt your heart “I've always loved you just after Jess I was just so afraid to lose someone again” “I never wanted to force you into anything” he nodded then smiled “I meant it last night. I love you, I've always loved you and always will. If you give this a second chance I promise you'll never doubt my feelings again. You're it for me. My heart is solely yours”

You were silent for a moment then smiled “on one condition” he nodded “anything” “You always talk to me about what's going on in your head, you trust that I can take care of myself and if I get hurt you try not to blame yourself” “Deal” you nodded “In that case kiss me” “Yes ma'am” he laughed before pulling you into a kiss.

#sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction

437 notes · View notes

octoberclidan · 11 months

Text

Holding Tight

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: can you write a fic with dean where he just craves physical attention but not by verbally asking for it? like when dean wakes up from a nightmare he crawls into y/n’s bed and they both just know what to do, like they’ve done it a million times. or after a bad hunt, y/n just hugs dean while he processes his emotions in his own way.

Masterlist

Story:

The car ride back to the motel was quiet. Dean drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, Sam stared out the window watching the rain, and [Y/N] sat in the back, her head resting against the back seat, exhausted. No music played, no one spoke, no one wanted to discuss the hunt they had just finished up with. It had been one of [Y/N]'s least favourite monsters; a wendigo. The trio had arrived in a small town full of disappearances a week ago, and it had taken them five days to track down the wendigo's lair. Five days of continuous disappearances, knowing that each day that passed meant finding survivors less and less likely. Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. One they found the creature, Sam had been knocked out almost immediately. Dean's gun jammed, and [Y/N]'s lighter wouldn't light when she'd had the chance to set the thing on fire.

When they eventually killed it and went looking for the missing people, only one was still alive, and only barely. They'd gotten the survivor to hospital, but the doctors were sceptical they'd ever recover. Between the week preceding and the week during the Winchesters and [Y/N] being in the town, eighteen people had gone missing. Seventeen people had died on their watch, and the remaining survivor would most likely add to the count within the next couple of days. They were all miserable, but Dean took it the hardest. He always did. To him, if Sam or [Y/N] didn't manage to save someone, then it wasn't their fault. No one can save everyone all of the time. When he couldn't save someone however, it was because he wasn't good enough. He didn't train hard enough, he wasn't fast enough, he wasn't smart enough, he just wasn't enough. [Y/N] looked at the back of his head from her position in the back of the Impala, he was thinking these thoughts so loud she swore she could hear them. It was taking everything in her to not try and tell him it wasn't his fault, but she knew he would shrug her off and only fall deeper into self destruction, so she stayed quiet.

It was one of the rare instances where the motel had a room with three separate beds, usually they'd have to book two rooms, or [Y/N] would have to take the couch, or one of the brothers would end up on the floor. Tonight all three of them were thankful that they'd have each other in the room, even if they weren't talking, and all three were looking forward to the day ending and getting into bed. [Y/N] showered first, trying to be quick and not use up all the hot water while also getting all of the blood and dirt out of her hair and off her body. She tucked herself into her bed straight after while Sam took his turn. She rolled onto her side to face Dean, who was sitting at a little table in the motel room, staring out the window at the rain just as Sam had in the car. She sighed quietly, wishing more than anything that she knew what to say to calm his mind and take the guilt away from him, but she knew he would come to her when he was ready, he always did.

Dean went for his shower as soon as Sam came out. The moment Sam's head hit his pillow, he was out, softly snoring having not even bothered to get under the covers. [Y/N] listened to the sound of the water running in the shower, feeling sad knowing that Dean was in there beating himself up like usual. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, the guilt of not saving everyone also weighing on her own shoulders. In some sad toxic thought process that they all shared, it made them all feel worse that they themselves hadn't sustained any major injuries. Sam had been knocked out but given the all clear by the paramedics, and [Y/N] and Dean only had a few scratches and bruises between them. She closed her eyes when she heard the shower turn off, holding her breath in anticipation to find out if Dean was ready to seek comfort in her or if he would choose his own bed and wallow in self pity.

The bathroom door opened, and she heard Dean's footsteps walk to the side of her bed. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the side to look up at him, only just able to make out his features in the low light. He looked broken, his eyes were red having obviously cried in the shower, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked tired. She pulled back the covers and opened her arms in a silent invitation, and he crawled onto the bed, his knees either side of her legs and his hands either side of her shoulders, before he let himself down, lying on top of her. He was shirtless, and his warm body covered hers, his arms snaked around her waist and his head lay on her chest, tucked under her chin. She breathed in, the scent of shampoo in his damp hair just beneath her nose. She felt him sigh and relax on top of her, and she brought her hand up and around to his back, scratching lightly. One of her hands wandered up his spine, along his neck, and into his hair, lightly scratching the top of his head while her other hand drew circles on his back. He tightened his grip around her, as if he was trying to get as close as possible. Her movements slowed as she grew tired, and when she heard his slow and deep breathing she finally let herself drift off to sleep. She knew that in the morning she would wake up in his arms, rather than Dean still be in hers, his masculinity having got the better of him at some stage during the night, so she let herself enjoy holding him while it lasted. She needed this too, being able to hold someone, comfort someone, make them feel safe, it comforted her.

***

Several weeks later, and they had returned to the bunker after another unsuccessful hunt. The two successful hunts they'd had in between didn't seem to matter, only the hunts with less than ideal outcomes stuck in their heads. Sam had gone off to his room as soon as they'd arrived back. Dean had a pretty bad cut on his shoulder and [Y/N] had offered to clean and stitch it up for him, but he'd waved her off, grumbling about how he could do it instead, and disappeared into his room. [Y/N] stared after him as he walked down the corridor, sighing as she knew he was yet again probably stuck in his head, repeating the events of the hunt over and over again, thinking about anything that could possibly be considered a mistake.

She got herself a glass of water from the kitchen, and sat down at the table for a moment, staring into space. As bad as she felt for Dean, she felt emotionally drained too. She'd held someone while they died from a werewolf attack, too far gone to help. Dean had been thrown against a large rock, leading to the gash in his shoulder, and [Y/N] hadn't been able to help. Sam was the one who eventually killed the wolf, and although she knew it couldn't hurt anyone else, it still felt like a failure. When she finished her drink, she washed the glass and began to walk to her room. She passed Dean's room on the way, and stood outside the closed door for a moment, wondering what was going through his head. She sighed, and knocked on the door. In the absence of an answer, she decided to crack it open. Peeking inside, she saw Dean sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, cleaning supplies sitting beside him untouched.

She quietly opened the door farther and stepped inside before closing in gently behind her. She knelt down in front of Dean, who hadn't acknowledged her presence, and she hooked her finger under his chin, pulling him up to look at her. They locked eyes for a moment before he shook his head and looked away. She took his decision to stay seated as an invitation, and she took the bottle of alcohol and an antiseptic wipe from beside Dean, and got to work. He didn't flinch when she poured the alcohol on his shoulder, and he didn't flinch when she began to sew up the wound either. He just sat there, his face turned away from her. She finished by taping a bandage to his shoulder and closing up the supply kit. She sat down beside him and sighed. "Dean". She whispered.

Dean looked to her and he broke, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. He leaned his forehead against hers and she felt a tear drip down onto her face. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She leaned up and kissed his forehead, watching his eyes flutter closed before she dipped her head down, snuggling into his chest. They sat like that in silence for a long time, holding each other tight, before Dean lay back, bringing her down with him. She lay her head on his chest and this time it was Dean who traced circles on [Y/N]'s back, the act of soothing her also soothing himself. The pair fell asleep in each other's arms, sharing the sadness between them lessening the effect on their minds.

***

It was only two nights later when [Y/N] was woken up by the sound of her bedroom door creaking open. Glancing at her clock, it was just after 3am. She didn't need to look around to know that it was Dean who'd just let himself into her room and closed the door. Dean often checked in on [Y/N] during the night, sometimes just quickly glancing in to check that she was breathing before leaving again, sometimes walking over and pulling her covers up, or pulling her shoes off after a long day when she hadn't intended to fall asleep fully clothed. Sometimes he just came in to replace the glass of water she always kept on her bedside table, and sometimes he only came in to gently kiss her forehead, and appreciate how grateful he was to have her in his life.

This night however, Dean needed more than just a quick check or a forehead kiss. She heard him walk over to her bed, and she felt her covers pull back and her bed dip down behind her. Dean pressed his chest against her back and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. He tangled his legs with hers, and rested his chin on the top of her head. She heard him sigh in contentment, and she reached up to stroke her fingers along the hand and arm he had around her waist. He snuggled in closer when he realised that she was awake, holding her as tight as possible without hurting her. He kissed the top of her head and listened as her breathing became slower and deeper. Whether he was holding her tightly or being held by her tightly, he needed it. He needed her and she needed him, they would always know and give each other what they needed.

The end

3K notes · View notes

bigfan-fanfic · 5 months

Text

Back Into Trouble (Winchester!Reader x Winchester Bros PLATONIC)

A sequel to Brother Mine

This fic takes place somewhere near the end of season 1, after episode 19 but before episode 20. In addition, there's a song called Brother Mine that is really sweet and cute especially if put into this context of being Sam and Dean's, but especially Dean's, older brother. "I know that I sit and I worry too much/Especially when you come home such a sight/But I guess what you've got to do, boy, you go ahead and do it/And I sure hope things will be all right"

You may not have enjoyed returning to hunting, but you're damn good at it.

Although it's made even more frustrating when your father actually calls in.

You're not so thrilled about continuing on this... gallivanting cross-country, especially when John is chasing down the demon that killed your mother.

But Sam seems to have come to terms with it, though you honestly feel like that might have more to do with his desire to avenge Jess.

The real problem you see with your little brothers is their inability to let go.

You had all been raised by John in the hunting lifestyle, the family business.

But it's been decades since your mother's death. A horrible thing, that you have had to come to terms with having no real answers for.

And you can understand the desire for vengeance, for a clear-cut answer that will "solve everything."

It won't.

Something you've tried to get your brothers to think about is the future. About what they want out of their lives.

Because you remember how it was, living completely in the moment, day to day, hunt to hunt. And it was Bobby who pointed out that you had potential, that you deserved a life, if not now, then at least the promise of one.

So you convince them to take a rest in Massachusetts after leaving a hunt. Just to take a couple of days for hanging out.

Dean wants to see the Cheers bar and Sam wants to visit the Old North Church, so you get an actual hotel suite in Boston.

You check in with your colleagues and employees, apologizing for being incommunicado for so long. Thankfully the hotel has a business center with a fax machine you can sign invoices and contracts with.

Dean looks at you curiously. "So... you really did just... start a business?"

"Technically I bought it out from the owner who wanted to retire. So more... maintaining."

"You really are just... out of the life."

"I was, til you two called me."

"...sorry." Dean mumbles, and you grab his shoulder.

"Don't be. I was never doing this for Dad. I'm here for you and for Sammy."

Dean nods thoughtfully.

"You saw him. With that girl at the art gallery. He liked her. She liked him."

"Yeah."

"And you... with Cassie."

"Your point being?"

"Life keeps building off-ramps for you but you keep on truckin down this road."

Dean scowls. "Look, I'm not stupid. I know this life is dangerous. I know my days are probably numbered. But I'm making a difference. I'm saving people."

"What about you?"

He blinks. "What about me?"

"I'm done trying to force you out of the life, Dean. It's your choice. When we finally deal with all this shit - when the bastard that killed Mom is dead and you and Sam are finally free... I'm not gonna stop you if you go back to hunting."

"You're not?"

You nod. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose contact with you again. I'll be there when you need a place to crash or a voice to call. Maybe you'll even visit me.

"Just... I need you to promise me you're not gonna run yourself into the ground. None of this has been your fault. It's not your fault about Mom, and it wasn't your fault I left, and it's not your fault that Dad couldn't really be a dad to us."

Dean wants to protest but you shush him. "You're gonna do what you do. And I'm gonna stop hunting again. For good this time. But when you decide it's time to come home... I hope you come to me, little brother."

You stand up then, leaving Dean to his thoughts. He's quiet for the rest of the day, but you feel an almost companionable nature to the silence.

And just maybe, after this all... maybe your brothers will follow you away from the things that go bump in the night.

#supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural headcanons #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x male reader #dean winchester x male reader #male reader

161 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Can you do a Winchester sister fic pls where the sister gets years taken off her life by saving Dean (how Dean took years off his life to save Bobby in season 5) and she’s running out of time and while Sam is finishing up the poker game against the witch to save her, she dies in deans arms (the sister is closer with Dean and always looked up to him and the boys ofc are always protective of her) but then Sam wins the poker game and brings her back

The Curious Case of Dean Winchester

Note: This one was really fun to write. I hope you don't mind that I added my own little twist onto the episode (S5E7) and that it's pretty angsty: I couldn't help myself.

warnings: Death but only brief, swearing once or twice.

Word count: 2.3K (wow it's been a hot minute since I've written like this and i've missed it)

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Those were the last words Dean Winchester told you before you split off to search the other side of town. Of course, that is exactly what you did.

As soon as Cliff Whitlow, the missing victim, had revealed the man behind his so-called miracle, you knew exactly what you had to do. The man behind the unusual deaths- Patrick, was a witch- a powerful one at that. And you needed a Witch.

See, Dean had got himself into a predicament. He had made a deal with a crossroads demon so that Bobby could walk again. He couldn’t bear to see him so miserable anymore, so he did what he thought was the right thing to do. Bobby was mad, you and Sam even madder, and you were now running out of time to find a way to get him out of it. It frustrated you that Dean’s impending doom was creeping up slowly on you, ready to grab him at any second, but no one was doing anything about it. So you took matters into your own hands.

You took the elevator around the back of the bar down to the basement after bribing the bartender with enough money to make you cringe. It was rickety and jolted unnervingly as it descended, opening up into another bar. Few people lingered around sipping from glasses of spirits that lined the walls, though you paid little attention to them because your gaze had locked onto him. He sat smugly in a secluded section of the room behind a table a poker game had been laid out on. Leaning back on his chair he watched his latest victim bet away his life. He was using magic to enchant the poker chips, grinning as he scooped the man's chips towards him, watching as his face turned ashen and grey.

“That’s a cruel trick you got there.” You said making your way over to the table.

“Thank you.” He shrugged, rearranging the black and red chips with a smirk. “I take it you’re here for a reason?”

“I want to play.”

He glanced up at you, raising a brow and speaking to you with a thick, Irish lilt. “You look awfully young for someone trying to get more years… that is unless?”

“I’m not a witch.”

“I see.” you were intriguing him now. “How can I help you?”

“My brother. He made a demon deal. I need you to get rid of it in return for my years.”

The witch tilted his head as he looked at you keely. “Now slow down there, princess. Cancelling a demon deal is a very difficult thing to do. Takes a whole bunch of magic and persuasion to do that. Giving me a few years isn’t going to be enough.”

“30.” You laid down.

“Tempting.” He hummed, “But I think we can have some real fun with this. What do you say?”

“Whatever. Just help my brother.”

“Good answer. I’ll play for your brother’s deal. You win, I'll try to cut your brother's deal.”

“And if I lose?”

“60.” The staggering number almost made your heart stop, but you were doing this for Dean. Sam needed him. The world needed him. “But it’ll start slowly until you least expect it.”

“Deal. Oh and one more thing.”

The witch leaned forwards in his chair

“Dean can’t play to replace my years with his own.”

“You must be very desperate.” The witch mused, gesturing for you to take a seat as he began to shuffle his deck of cards. “That or you’re extremely stupid. Who knows. But I like you. You show loyalty to your family and that’s very important. Perhaps, once you lose I might even see if I can remove your brother's deal. I’m feeling generous today.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just shut up and play.”

“Y/N?”

Dean’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you rounded the corner after stepping out of the elevator. He stared at you with an irascible look, though you could see the confusion hidden in his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed at you. You were supposed to be across the other side of town. When the three of you split up, you took off in the wrong direction to slip into the bar before your brothers found it. You had taken the receipt from one of the victims' jackets and raced down there in hopes that you would make it out before one of them stumbled across it. I guess you were just incredibly unlucky today.

“Planting daisies.” You said sarcastically as you tried to push your way past your brother so he wouldn’t see your face. “What’s it look like?”

“So you found the game?” He queried, chasing after you.

“Yep.”

“Did you stop it?”

You kept quiet and continued on straight. You had lied to Dean hundreds of times before so why couldn’t you bring yourself to do it now?

“Y/N?”

You stopped, turning to face him with a sigh.

“Not exactly…”

You could see the dread on his face now. “What did you do?”

You swallowed thickly. “I played. Okay?”

Dean Winchester stared at you dumbfounded for a moment, his lips twitching as he struggled to process the right words. “And?”

“...I lost.”

Your brother nearly exploded. “Are you kidding me?! The one thing I told you not to do was ‘anything studpid’. And you played some He-witch?!”

“Someone had to do something Dean! I can’t just sit by everyday knowing that you could be dragged away from us any second. I can’t go through that again Dean.”

“You idiot.” He was blaming himself, you could hear it on his tongue; the way he seethed. “Sammy and I are looking for something. We will find something.”

“That’s what you said last time. And I'm sorry Dean, but I can’t. Sammy needs you. The world needs you.”

“And you don’t think we need you?! You can’t go throwing your years away.”

“They’re my years. I can do what I want.”

“How many did you lose Y/N?”

“60.”

Sam bustled through the door trying to balance a tray of drinks and a paper bag filled with fast food. He slid them on the counter and tossed his keys beside them as he called out.

“Are you guys home?”

“In here, Sammy.” Dean emerged from the bathroom and Sam could tell his brother was mad. He was wearing that stern look and his voice was agitated.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Here.” You bundled through the door, glancing silently between your brothers gripping a candy bar you had wrangled from one of the vending machines. You didn’t really want it you just needed an excuse to get out of the motel room and escape from the tension and side glances that Dean shot your way.

Sam studied you for a moment as you pulled out a chair to slump on. At first glance he hardly noticed it, but he realised that you looked older. Not by a lot, but you moved differently and your eyes were ever so slightly more creased.

“Either of you two wanna tell me what happened?”

“Y/N’s got a death wish. That’s what happened.” Dean stated, rummaging in the bag that Sam had brought back from the diner.

“Oh so I was just supposed to let you die? Again?”

“Yes. Or find another way.” Dean spat back at you but you knew he was scared. Scared and feeling guilty for what your near future might entail.

Sam blinked as the two of you argued, firing words at each other. “Whoa. Slow down. What happened? Did you find the witch?”

“Oh yeah. Y/N found the witch alright, Sammy. Why don’t you tell him what happened, Kid?”

“I played.”

“You what?”

“I played for Dean’s deal to be spoiled… and I lost.”

“Oh God, Y/N/N… How much did you lose?”

“60…” You started, watching the horror cross his features. “But he’s taking them slowly. Waiting until we least expect it.”

“And there’s the punchline.” Dean could have laughed.

Sam was in shock, though he understood why you had done it. He understood why you were hurting. He was there when Dean was taken. He saw how broken up it made you and he saw how you clung to him when he returned, hesitant to leave his side for weeks.

“Oh kiddo.” he sighed “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“You know, I still think I should play.” Sam said. The three of you had just broken into the Witch’s flat. Sam and Dean believed that if they got hold of the chips then they could find a way to get you your years back, but you had been caught and the witch had revealed that the chips had nothing to do with it. That was when Sam was given the idea to play for you. In the meantime you could feel your body changing and see the lines being etched into your face.

“No. No.” Dean cut his brother off straight away. “You’re not good enough. I’m better, Y/N's way better. We both lost.”

“What so I don’t get a say in this anymore? Dean can’t play so I’m the only option we got. I’ve watched you hustle plenty of poker games. Hell, that’s how Y/N learnt-”

“Sammy.” You pleaded. You knew that if this went wrong everything you did would have been for nothing. “Please. No.”

“Y/N. We can’t just let you… you’ll die. We’re going to find you a way out of this. I promise.”

“Take it.” The blonde woman, the one from the bar and the witch’s apartment, was perched on your bed as the three of you hustled back into the room. Dean’s fingers instinctively reached for the gun he had tucked in his waistband. “It’ll help.”

Sam took the parchment gingerly, turning it over in his hands before reading the messy handwriting scrawled across the page. “What is this?”

“The most powerful reversal spell you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”

“And it reverses what?” Dean asked.

“Patrick’s work. All of it.”

“You saying she could be normal again?” Your brother’s hand found your shoulder protectively.

“Her and everyone else he’s ever played.” She said before adding “who’s still alive.”

“Why the hell should we trust you?” Sam scowled.

“Trust me, don’t trust me. I don’t care.” She stood and made her way to the door. “The spell is real.”

“If it zaps everyone, doesn’t that include your man?” Dean asked.

“And me too.” She shrugged, “I look good for my age.”

“Lady, this don’t add up for shit.” Dean said. “Why would you want that?”

“I have my reasons.” her hand went to fiddle with the silver locket around her neck before she fled. “Do it quickly. We leave town tomorrow.”

The spell hadn’t worked.

When Dean tossed the toothpick Sam had smuggled him into the flames he looked up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes but nothing happened. You didn’t get younger. And Sam was still betting his life away against that witch.

You could feel it now, the way your life was slowly slipping away. At first you didn’t really notice it, but as soon as you began pursuing Patrick, you knew your end was approaching quickly. You supposed that ‘when you least expected’ was a lot closer than you expected. The thought made you bitter as you shuffled into the car, wincing at the way your joints ached the way they would after a long hunt or session at the gym.

Dean glanced at you through Baby’s mirror as he sped down the road towards Patrick’s apartment in search of some more of his DNA. His concern grew as you climbed the stairs much slower than you would usually have done and as you entered his room.

The two of you searched quickly, looking anywhere for a speck of something that might contain just a speck of his DNA. another one of those toothpicks or something. Albeit the pair of you were struggling to find anything.

And then it is you. All at once your joints popped and clicked as your body changed suddenly. You cried out in pain as your brother ran to your side to catch you before you could hit the ground.

“No. No. Not yet.”

You blinked up at him as you struggled to breath, your heart slowing as your body forgot how to function.

“Dean…” Your voice faded as he cradled you in his arms. Your breaths slowing and your eyes fluttering.

“No.” His voice broke as he fumbled for his phone. “No you hang on sweetheart. Come on Sammy, pick up!”

There was no answer as Dean’s phone rang and went straight through to Sam’s voicemail. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed as he through his phone across the room, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you. Watching your chest slowly rise and fall. Up and down…up and down…up..and…down…up-

There was nothing after that. You lay morbidly still in his arms as your body ceased to function.

“No! Y/N. I can’t lose you now. Please….”

You did not move and the room was filled with the sound of your big brother’s grief and he sobbed. And then, you took a gasping breath and sat up abruptly in his arms.

Your body had returned to normal. The extra wrinkles around your eyes and the grey hairs gone. Your breaths were steady and your heart was strong.

“Y/N/N?” He whispered.

��Dean?” Your eyes searched him. “Sammy did it.”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, squeezing you tightly. “I knew he would.”

Dean’s phone began to ring from across the room. Reluctantly, he peeled himself away from you as he moved to get it, though his attention never strayed far from you.”

“Dean?!” You heard your other brother over the speakers. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. You did it, Sam. She’s going to be just fine.”

116 notes · View notes

wolfgiselle · 16 days

Text

Cage Wi-fi

"Can I ask, once again, how it's even possible we get wi-fi down here?"

Adam knew he was beating a dead horse, at this point, by getting worked up over this, but he was only human. Even in these trying times of Angels and Demons—of cages in Hell that were supposed to hold the literal Devil but, for some reason, also currently held him and the Archangel Michael—he needed things to make sense. Nothing had been going as it should lately. Not for a long time. Yet, here he was, trying to find logic where it seemed none existed.

"I assume the computer and its 'wi-fi' are here for entertainment purposes. There's not much else to do down here," Michael murmured. His face was practically hidden behind the screen. It had been for the last few days. At least, Adam thought it was days (Hell time was different, Cage time worse). Adam hoped Michael wasn't becoming addicted—that was all they needed—but there wasn't anything he could do to get it away from him.

Lucifer, at least, seemed to find Michael's newfound fascination and obsession amusing. "The demons snuck one down. I enjoyed the machine last I used it, so I, uh…let's go with 'asked' them to bring one down."

Adam should've guessed Lucifer was behind this. Even when he searched his brain, he couldn't figure out how a simple laptop could cause much, if any, damage. The whole situation seemed harmless. It was because Lucifer was the one who wanted it that he couldn't help but be suspicious.

His relationship with the Devil was mostly cordial. Michael had made it clear early on his vessel was off-limits when it came to torture or harassment. But the warning had ended up being unnecessary. Lucifer had, at first, focused all of his attention on his own vessel, Sam.

Adam had felt a bit bad then that Sam was experiencing such a thing while Adam was getting off scot-free. But, as he'd understood it, it was Sam's fault they were down there. Sam had decided to jump and take Lucifer with him—dragging him and Michael along for the ride. For such reasons, Adam also couldn't help but feel a little vindictive himself after all was said and done. All Adam had wanted was to see his mother and help save the world.

Lucifer did torture Sam for a while, but he must've gotten bored or finally calmed down because one day—for no discernable reason—he stopped. Sam didn't react as though he'd stopped, though. Instead, he kept screaming and tearing into himself, yelling words like "Stop!" or "No!" even though Lucifer was no longer touching him, basically torturing himself.

It almost made him relieved for Sam's sake (as well as his own) when, not long after, they saw Castiel appear. He shot into the cage with as little subtlety as a flaming meteor to snatch him, somehow managing to grab Sam's body but fly off, leaving his soul behind. He hadn't even spared a glance for Adam, despite Michael's (very much appreciated) attempt to get his attention and remind him.

The results of Sam existing in the cage without his body were a trial of their own. If Sam had seemed off or unhinged before, he was an absolute basket-case now. Lucifer even became desperate enough to try and calm him down, to no avail.

Then, once again, they had a visitor. This time 'Death' of all things. (And had Adam mentioned before he wasn't cut out for this?) While Adam was busy trying to fathom the idea of Death having a physical manifestation—on top of still trying to come to terms with Angels, Demons, and… well, everything else he'd ever thought was fantasy being real—Death retrieved Sam's soul.

Death, at least, was polite enough to acknowledge them. Adam included.

"I'm sorry, but the deal was only for one. Dean made his choice," he had said to him.

He'd immediately understood. It hurt, but he wasn't surprised. Their relationship had been short and brief, and for all they'd gone on about family and tried to appeal to him with that argument, he'd meant what he said when they first met. His mom was his family. She was the one he'd been doing all this for.

After Sam was gone, Adam worried Lucifer would get bored and come after him. After a while of showing no such inclination, though, Adam relaxed.

Adam was also surprised when Michael and Lucifer didn't fight each other. He'd been under the impression that had been the whole point of the Apocalypse. Michael had pointed out that neither could kill the other as long as they were down here. The cage kept whatever was in it alive. Fighting would be an exercise in futility.

The two of them still argued. But it was more like your average brotherly back-and-forth (if you considered disagreements over whether God would return and save them, or whether humans deserved to live or were insignificant ants that polluted and destroyed all God's other creations average).

Adam was doing okay. He figured for a guy stuck in Hell (possibly for all eternity), he was holding together pretty well. There was just some confusion over the computer.

"If we can get a signal down here, could we send messages to Earth?" Adam asked.

"And who were you planning on sending messages to?" Lucifer drawled, his human manifestation sprawled out against one of the corner cage walls. That was another thing that confused Adam. This wasn't their 'true' form he was seeing.

When Michael first appeared to him, he had been pure light. His presence had been so bright and heavy it'd felt both like staring directly at the sun and, somehow, being surrounded by it. Michael had later told him it was a miracle he'd been able to look upon him at all. Apparently, it was common for people to burn their eyes out when directly looking at them outside of a vessel. The Winchester blood that'd made it possible for him to be a vessel for Michael period must have saved him.

This meant he'd seen Michael before and had at least an idea of what an Angel could look like through human eyes. He also thought he'd caught a few glimpses of Lucifer when he was still torturing Sam. But he wasn't sure if what he'd seen was accurate after so long. Or if what he'd seen at the time had been distorted by Michael back then, trying to keep him coddled up within his…well, wings in an attempt to keep the awful things happening in front of him from view. As if not seeing Sam's torture made him any less aware of it happening. In some ways, the not seeing, the not knowing, was worse.

Lucifer's image—if his sneaked looks had been accurate—gave off the opposite impression of Michael's. If Michael was the sun, then the Devil was a black and oily hole, primed and ready to suck off or destroy any of the light that wandered near.

Adam wondered if Lucifer stayed in this humanoid form lately (despite his proclaimed hatred for the species) because he hated what had become of his original form or if it would be presumptuous of him to believe he chose to look that way to ease any discomfort Adam might've once shown at his true but now contaminated, visage.

Surely, the Devil would prefer for him to be uncomfortable? No matter how well they seemed to get along, it made little sense for Lucifer to play nice with the vessel of the brother he'd set out to kill. He'd never question such things out loud, though. Or admit to his confusion regarding the…Angel? Archangel? Devil…? Oh—whatever classification he considered himself now. Adam figured as long as he wasn't getting tortured, the status quo was best kept as it was.

"I don't really have anyone to message," he replied, remembering Lucifer's question after way too long a pause.

"Not even the Winchesters? They're your family, after all." Lucifer said it with little inflection, not at all as if he was intending mockery. But Lucifer knew he hated to be reminded of his blood ties to the brothers and how little such a tie had come to mean. Sometimes, Adam thought Lucifer missed Sam, and that was why he always brought them up when they were no longer a necessary topic of conversation.

"You know, very well, I wouldn't wanna talk to them, even if I could. They already know I'm down here. What else am I gonna say to 'em? 'Hey guys, it's your brother—you know, Adam? The guy you left in Hell? Yeah, remember him? That's me.' Nope—not at all interested in having that conversation. I was speaking in hypotheticals. Like, does social media work down here? Could we actually, like… set up a Facebook page or write a blog and call it "The Hell-Cage Experience? That would probably get a lot of page views even if nobody took it seriously."

"Yeah…I didn't understand half of what you said right there, but the computer should be capable of everything it was when it was on Earth. Of course, if you order something, we're obviously not getting it. I learned that lots of humans used that machine or ones like it to acquire food."

"Yeah." Adam brushed his hand through his hair, mentally shaking his head again at the added absurdity to this already mind-breaking situation. What was his life that he was having a casual conversation about computer usage with the Devil? In literal Hell? Adam needed to get over this. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

Music suddenly started playing from the computer for the first time since the device had appeared. Although Michael's human manifestation (an almost duplicate of himself with an added Angel aura) didn't jump or display any sign of startlement, the place where his wings would be visual when displayed distorted and, for a moment, the room became slightly breezy, portraying the Angelic version of the same thing.

Adam didn't recognize the song but could admit it was catchy. What was Michael even watching? He could admit to being a little jealous that he didn't have his own computer down here to whittle the time away—If Lucifer was going to insist on ignoring the laws of reality and physics by having a working computer down here, couldn't he have at least gotten them all one? Why was Lucifer even letting Michael hoard the thing in the first place if Lucifer had it brought here for himself? No way was he about to ask, though. Not for his own computer or about whatever his Angel companion was watching.

Lucifer had no such compunctions, of course. In fact, looking at that human face, which showed his emotions maybe a little too well, Adam would say the Devil looked a little too much like the cat that had captured the canary but wanted to play more with it before he ate it. Adam was instantly suspicious.

"Sooo…what's that you're looking at, Michael?" Lucifer asked, sounding almost like he already knew and just wanted to hear the answer aloud. The whole thing made the human nervous, and he wasn't even sure why.

Adam glanced back at Michael. He didn't seem horrified, angry, or any other emotion the human might've expected if some joke or prank had been pulled on him like he had every other time Lucifer had gotten the better of him while down here. In fact, if he had to guess based on familiarity with his own facial expressions, he would say Michael looked curious.

"It appears to be a live performance of the Winchester Gospel," Michael said. As if that simple sentence alone was self-explanatory.

"A live performance of…what?" Why were the Winchesters being mentioned again? And by Michael of all people. His Archangel roommate usually agreed with Adam that it was best they weren't discussed. The topic had negative connotations for them all. It only led to bad moods and tension.

Suddenly unable to hold back his own curiosity, Adam deduced that it was safe enough to leave his claimed corner of the cage to approach. It was only Michael, after all. He'd already spent a lot of time cuddled up within his wings. He'd felt what it was like to have that being inside him: for some moments, what it was like to share all thoughts and feelings with another without walls separating their personhood. There might as well be no more boundaries left between them to break.

Once he was practically on top of Michael—trying to get a good look at the screen he'd become affixed to—the Archangel, still perfectly attuned to him and his needs from their joining, moved the computer from his lap to in front of him and bundled him into the cleared space. Now, nothing stopped him from getting a good view of the computer. He was a lot more comfortable, too.

It only took him a couple of minutes to register what he was seeing. An 'understanding' of what he'd seen didn't end up following close behind.

There on the screen, clear as day, were Sam and Dean. At least he was pretty sure it was Sam and Dean. If not, these people were dead wringers, and…. wait, no…that was their Impala. It was definitely them.

"What the fuck am I even watching right now?"

"Weren't you listening? Michael said it was a live performance of the Winchester Gospel."

Adam jumped slightly at hearing Lucifer's voice suddenly coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed him move. He'd been too distracted by the video—whatever it was supposed to be. Michael rested his cheek on his forehead and held him tighter as if trying to offer comfort.

"Yes, I heard him," Adam answered, trying not to sound too smart or snappish (just because Lucifer had, so far, respected Michael's demand to leave him alone, that didn't mean he was going to push it by being purposefully rude) "I just don't know what you mean by Winchester Gospel. Do you mean the prophecy that said they were supposed to be your vessels for the Apocalypse? What does a…, um, TV show?—with them in it—have to do with that?"

"The Winchester Gospel isn't the prophecy, exactly. Not in the way that you're thinking, anyway. But I guess you could call it that since it was written by a prophet."

"Prophet?" That was the first he'd heard about them. Adam supposed he shouldn't be surprised that prophets were real, too, since it seemed pretty much every other imaginary thing had turned out to be.

"Prophets are humans born with the ability to read and understand God's word. The Winchester Gospel was the written version of the Winchester's story leading up to the Apocalypse. A prophet would have been able to see it himself for documentation purposes; think of a modern-age Bible with the brothers smack-dab at the center of it."

Adam tried to take in this information while being distracted by the scene of a horrified Sam screaming up at his girlfriend as she burned to death pinned to the ceiling.

Yikes.

He wasn't particularly fond of either Winchester right now, but they did get the shitty end of the stick, didn't they? The people around them, or in any way connected to them, seemed to die in rather gruesome ways.

"Wait," he said, realizing something. "If it's like a new-age Bible written by a human, does that mean it's available for anybody to read the same way the actual Bible is? And if it's about the Winchesters and the Apocalypse, we're all in it, too, right? Even me?"

"I am soooo glad you asked," Lucifer replied. It didn't escape Adam's notice that he sounded practically giddy. He moved to where Adam could see him, shooting him a wide smile (frightening) before he huddled beside them and took control of the computer.

Lucifer exited the TV show—which had continued on to another episode—with a casual, "We can watch the rest of that later," and typed something into the Google search bar. Seeming to find what he was looking for with a satisfied "ah, ha," Lucifer turned the computer back around. "See for yourself."

Adam had been briefly distracted by wondering why Michael hadn't fought for the computer when Lucifer grabbed it but focused again as soon as he processed what he was looking at.

"What on Earth? Are you fucking serious!?"

"Well, we're certainly not on Earth anymore…" Lucifer started, but Adam wasn't listening.

The website the Devil had switched to seemed to be some sorta fan-made page. The background was all black, the continuing image of pentagrams a recurring theme. There was a banner with a picture of the Impala in it and a stylized font spelling out the word 'Supernatural' over the top of it.

There appeared to be books for sale on the site with the same series title. Was this supposed to be the Winchester Gospel? These books looked like cheap drugstore romance-novel-trash… Much like the kind Adam's mother would buy and sneak into the cart and then hide under her mattress when they got home. They were one of the only splurges she made for herself. Kate Milligan never realized that her son snuck into her room when she wasn't home (often) to read those secret books. It was the closest sometimes Adam could get to porn before he'd had his own computer at home. These books couldn't be as important as the Bible: Not looking like this.

He reached out and scrolled over to an icon titled 'characters,' determined to answer his question on whether he was included in this trash.

Did he even want to be?

No, not really.

But the idea of being forgotten, not just by the people who'd claimed him as family but by the entire world, instilled a sudden existential dread.

It took scrolling through tons of names he didn't even recognize to finally find his own, and it was with a strange mixture of relief and trepidation that he clicked on it.

A page with a picture of himself and some general information popped up—which was weird enough, but he could get over it; he was most disturbed by the info section and its accuracy despite the brevity.

"Apparently, I'm only in about four episodes of this show and two books. But one of my main appearances doesn't count because it was a ghoul pretending to be me, and the other doesn't because it was Michael. That's bullshit!"

Adam wasn't even sure why he was mad. It's not like he wanted people to be able to watch his life unfold. As he continued to look through his character page, though, he couldn't help but feel robbed—or like he was being made a mockery of somehow.

"Yawn. This is getting boring now."

Lucifer took control of the computer back, and Adam let him, unsure where else to go and not sure he even wanted to see more. He had the sneaking suspicion that being bombarded with this crap had been Lucifer's intent all along and that he and Michael were just along for the ride. 'Why' Lucifer wanted to watch, read, or interact with any of this was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to watch himself, but Adam didn't think it would be fun to watch the events of their last year or so re-enacted when it was already such a misery experiencing them.

"It'd take forever to read through these books or watch the show. I'm sure none of us want to spend all our time staring at Sam and Dean's ugly mugs, no matter how limitless it currently is. Sooo…I say we check out some of this fan content first. Music videos, fanfiction, blogs, pairings: I don't even know some of these terms, but they all sound interesting. Humans come up with some of the most depraved—"

"Fanfiction!?" Adam practically yelped, interrupting what was sure to be another 'humans suck' rant from Lucifer he wasn't quite in the mood to withstand. Adam hadn't even given a thought to fanfiction. An old friend of his had been obsessed with Star Trek to near insanity and had introduced him to the concept by forcing him to read a story they'd written using the show's characters. Adam had learned a lot about his friend that day, and he'd never been able to watch an episode of Star Trek with a clean mind again. It had made his mother's erotica seem like child's play.

"Well, that's an interesting reaction," was all Lucifer had to say. Damn it! He should've controlled himself better. Adam could already see the cursor heading towards that 'cursed' word.

"Wait! You really don't want to…see any of that…" Adam trailed off, seeing Lucifer was no longer paying attention to him. Michael's eyes were still glued to the computer, and Adam wondered if he'd glanced away from it even once since it'd appeared down here.

"So 'fanfiction' is 'fan' stories written by fans about certain characters and events. I don't see the problem here. What wouldn't I want to see?"

"Weren't you just saying, 'Humans come up with some of the most depraved—' and so on? You telling me you can't imagine what could be terrible about stories possibly written about 'our' lives?"

Adam knew he shouldn't be saying this even as it came out of his mouth. It'd be smarter to let Lucifer think the topic is dull. Maybe part of him wanted Lucifer to suffer what he'd once had to endure. Then again, the Devil had a strange sense of humor. He was just as likely to find the whole thing amusing. What the fuck did Adam know? He'd almost suspect torturing him, and Michael, with fanfiction, was actually part of his motive here if it weren't for his seemingly ignorant confusion on the topic. If Adam had learned anything, it was that Lucifer was manipulative. But he never lied.

"Depraved?" Lucifer asked with new interest, his face inching closer to the screen.

Yeah.

He wasn't faking that.

Adam resigned himself to the inevitable and braced for impact. Being a minor 'character' might be his only saving grace here.

"I wouldn't get too excited. Don't say I didn't warn you when you find something you don't like," Adam warned. Lucifer getting pissed off would benefit none of them.

"Oh, I see. So, this is where pairings come into play. I wonder…"

Adam caught Lucifer's glance at him out of the corner of his eye and the following smirk. So much for that 'saving grace'. He was clearly Lucifer's first target.

"You were so upset about not having many appearances. About being the unimportant brother—the spare—even here."

"Brother—" Michael finally chipped in again, and Adam recognized his warning tone. Lucifer sure liked to kick below the belt and, not so surprisingly, play with fire.

Adam tried to control his face enough so his scowl wasn't obvious, but had a feeling he'd failed spectacularly. He snuggled further into Michael's arms—his only comfort down here—and felt his body relax when the Angel squeezed him even tighter.

Thankfully, Lucifer only rolled his eyes and mumbled what Adam was sure was 'so sensitive' before continuing with his clicking, undeterred.

"Well, look at that! Most of the 'fanfiction' here involves you and Michael in a sexual or romantic relationship. Wow, big brother! Never thought I'd see you degrade yourself this way. Even if it's only in a piece of fiction written by humans."

Michael's posture straightened, and he could almost imagine the look of contempt he'd be sending Lucifer even with his back to him. Adam rubbed the Angel's arm, attempting to return comfort and calm.

"Not that I can blame the humans for speculating about how you two act. You're way too soft on your vessel, Michael. You might as well glue him to your side and be done with it."

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it."

Lucifer hummed and continued messing with the computer.

"Here's an interesting summary: 'Michael has a boner but doesn't know what to do with it. Adam teaches him one of the pleasures of being human.'"

Adam cringes but isn't surprised. Yeah, that was to be expected. Adam supposed it also made sense that any fan-made material would focus on him in conjunction with Michael. He was the 'character' he'd interacted with the most. He'd literally been inside him (yes, he could grasp the erotic implications).

Adam snuck a look at Michael, relieved to see he looked more confused than angry. He thought about what he wanted to say.

"You realize you've probably been paired up with everybody at least once yourself, right? You're too important. You probably had plenty of 'screen time' or 'page-time,' or whatever the fuck we're going with here."

"And why should it bother me what humans write about me?"

"Well, as you've probably gathered, most of it is porn. Here, let me see the computer for a minute?"

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him but pushed it over. Adam was clearly being humored; he hoped he could find what he had in mind.

It was easier than it should've been to navigate the website. And it took less time than it should've to find something inflammatory.

"Look at this," Adam said, passing the computer back. Adam took a perverse amount of pleasure in the blank expression that came over Lucifer's face as he realized what he was reading. Adam might not agree with most of Lucifer's anti-human dogma. But he could get behind his belief in their depravity. The human imagination could be downright vile.

"Did you want to read the summary of that one out loud? Or maybe you'd like to check out the story itself." Adam hoped Lucifer didn't call his bluff and actually attempt to read what he'd found. Adam had no desire to hear such things and was sure Michael would find it equally traumatizing. It might even have Michael agreeing with Lucifer about humans being disgusting and all deserving to die. Now that he was thinking about it… showing Lucifer such a thing and daring to taunt him might not have been such a good idea.

"We're moving on to something else. There's nothing of value to see here," Lucifer growled. His hands were clenched, and his eyes glowed a burning red. If Lucifer had had laser vision, the computer would be a smoking, charred pile of unworkable parts.

Adam relaxed.

Lucifer was clearly pissed, but it wasn't at him.

"How about some videos, or… Oh, here's a fan song."

The look on Lucifer's face now scared Adam. More than the one he'd given the computer after reading the summary of the story that ‘must not be named or explained.'

A tune started up, and Adam frowned at the almost immediate mention of Sam and Dean. Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to be waiting for. Lucifer was watching him with what could only be anticipation. It was clearly an Apocalypse song, and he could only assume he'd be getting a mention. It was nearing the chorus when he heard the first hint of himself: a mention of the writers forgetting someone. He just knew that had to mean him.

And then he heard the actual chorus.

"We are never ever saving Adam ever!? Really?"

Someone had written an actual song about how forgettable he was. Sam and Dean's perspective added extra sting to already painful mockery. Was this all he was to anyone who knew his story? An unremarkable, unimportant joke.

It was one thing for Lucifer to tease him: Lucifer was just being Lucifer. And this was obviously his revenge for managing to make him uncomfortable. It was a separate issue to know his fellow humans could think so little of him when he'd only ever tried his best to be respectable. When he'd been willing to give his body over to do what he'd believed to be right. When he'd only wanted to see his mother and now might never be reunited with her again.

Lucifer smiled at his reaction. But Michael, who'd always been so unnaturally attuned to his emotional state, straightened up. He flared his wings in a way that made his presence seem towering and finally put in his two cents.

"While I'm not averse to studying the Gospel—as it may have answers to our current predicament and shine a light on what has been happening among the host since I have been gone—I have to protest this obvious targeting of Adam for your sick entertainment. I've told you time again that my vessel is off limits."

"And you haven't seen me lay a finger on him. Have you?" Lucifer sneered. Adam wondered if this would escalate into another 'bitch-fight-argument.' (Man, was he glad Michael wasn't currently paying attention to his thoughts.) Experiencing more of this Winchester-based crap didn't appeal to him in the slightest: Not with how he'd been depicted. He wasn't much in the mood for listening to them go back and forth, either, for however long they'd decide to have a go.

"Can't we just decide on something that won't make any of us angry? Maybe get started on that learning Michael mentioned. Because he had a point, you know? There's a good chance we could learn about what's been happening while we've been down here. It hardly benefits us to be uninformed."

Some of Michael's tenseness relaxed, and a slight breeze from his wings told Adam they'd also been put away. Adam turned to look at Lucifer again.

"We could get info on what's been happening in Hell too." Adam's careful not to say what he's actually thinking: that Lucifer could see Sam again and learn how he's doing. Lucifer's obsession was one best not spoken of; he'd deny it anyway.

Both Angels agreed with Adam with only a little grumbling and a couple murmured insults from Lucifer that Adam pretended not to hear. Lucifer was just upset they'd managed to ruin his fun.

Now that they had a plan, they just needed to put it into motion. Adam reached towards the computer again slowly, wondering if Lucifer would put up a fight about handing it over, but he shoved it at him instantly. Adam guessed Lucifer didn't want to have to put in the work if he couldn't fuck with them anymore. Adam wasn't about to complain.

Adam settled the computer into a position far enough from him so Lucifer could still see the screen. It'd been paused on the YouTube video for the song he'd been so hurt by. With a quick type of 'Supernatural mvs' in the search bar, it directed him to other options. Lots of options! Man, this show was popular. He hardly knew where to start.

Adam clicked on a couple random vids but got nothing out of them beyond further confirmation of Sam and Dean's life sucking, their codependent relationship, and the strange homoerotic tension between Castiel and Dean which the fans not only noticed but seemingly loved.

"Well, those weren't very helpful. Why don't we look up some videos focusing on the Angels."

Adam did so, and this time hit paydirt. These videos focused a lot more on the Angels and what they'd been up to. Some of it was hard for him to follow without the context, but he was focusing on trying to absorb everything until—

"You killed Gabriel?" Michael didn't yell, but his voice seemed to boom and almost shake the cage from being so powerful. The grip Michael still had around him was equally strong. Adam was grateful he couldn't actually die down here. And that he didn't need to breathe. Otherwise, the hold would have already suffocated him. Adam tried to pay attention to what Michael was actually saying.

Gabriel?

Right, Gabriel.

Apparently, Lucifer had killed him.

The video was still going, but nobody was paying it any mind. He reached a hand out to pause it, trying not to attract the attention of either of them. Michael was angrier than Adam had ever seen him. Adam trusted Michael to not want to hurt him, but that didn't mean he couldn't end up collateral damage. His ribs could attest to that.

Would this be the inciting incident? The thing to finally turn them to violence? Adam supposed Lucifer's response might be the determining factor.

Lucifer looked surprised. Adam wondered if he'd forgotten that he'd killed Gabriel or if he simply assumed nobody would ever find out.

"It wasn't Gabriel's place to interfere. He helped Sam and Dean get away, kept waving his Angel Blade around in my face, and seemed very protective of the humans, above all else. He'd clearly been down on Earth too long and became too accustomed to their ways. What else would you have had me do?"

"Maybe not kill your brother. You were always Gabriel's favorite: The only one to enjoy his pranks. The only one who could understand his jokes. You taught him to fly. Even during our fights, he never once took sides. He had to know you were in the wrong, but his love and worship for you prevented him from ever truly standing against you. Were you truly incapable of subduing him long enough for you to get away? You couldn't appeal to him… or talk him down—someone who once loved you that much?"

Lucifer, for once, appeared lost for words. (Talk about family drama. And he thought his issues with his own were bad.) Adam suddenly had a lot of questions he'd never thought to ask: What happened to an Angel when they died? Did they stop existing? Did they have their own afterlife? Was it better than here? He supposed it had to be.

There was still no answer from Lucifer. Adam knew better than to dare ask any of his questions now. His mouth would stay firmly shut while letting them sort this out. No way was he getting in the middle of this.

"Your silence might as well be an admission of guilt." Michael was trying his best to sound all-commanding and unemotional. The bond between him and Adam that let Michael perceive what he was feeling, however, worked both ways. Right now, he was feeling a grief Adam hadn't yet felt from him before. Not even their fall into the cage had elicited such an emotional response; he'd mostly just been angry then.

"Like you're squeaky clean being Dad's loyal soldier. You'd have killed him yourself if it'd been an order from God. Just like you threw me down here on his orders. You're the last person who'd have any right to lecture me on betrayal: on family loyalty." Lucifer sneered again as he practically spat the words.

Michael glowered and shot right back: "Your actions led to me striking you down—not just God. If you'd just listened—"

"—Here we go again: 'If you'd only just listened and followed orders like every other Angel, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. If you'd only just listened and been a good puppet soldier, none of this would've happened,'" Lucifer mocked with a roll of his eyes. "Don't take any accountability for your own mistakes. The 'Great and Powerful Archangel Michael' doesn't make mistakes. He's just Daddy's perfect boy. Well, it doesn't seem like he's coming down here to rescue you, does it? God has abandoned you too! Despite your enduring loyalty and stupidity."

"Faith is not stupid," Michael retorted. "And must you insist on talking poorly of our father?"

"He's the reason we're both down here, Mikey. The reason we're all down here. Apparently, he doesn't care about your vessel, either—despite insisting we prioritize these humans above all else. What excuse can you even give for that, huh? Are we meant to believe that he just… what? Didn't notice our Apocalypse: Didn't notice one of his Archangels dying and another falling into the cage? 'He who supposedly sees all'? What's more likely? That he hasn't realized or doesn't care? About any of us."

Adam didn't much appreciate being brought up in this conversation, especially when said conversation was a reminder that nobody seemed to care that he was here (aka: In Hell). Secretly, though, while he'd never tell Michael, he agreed somewhat with Lucifer; God didn't seem invested in any of them. One of the things that had brought him closer to Michael—that had made him sympathetic—had been his…well, 'toxic' relationship with his father. Even easier to empathize with was Lucifer's hatred towards that same father due to a disillusionment Michael had yet to overcome.

"We're down here to pay penance," Michael shot back in defense. "Father is hardly going to reward failure."

"Well, he certainly doesn't reward loyalty. What's your human paying penance for? What did he theoretically do wrong in this scenario? He was just doing what he thought was right, wasn't he? Doing what you and the other Angels told him to?"

Michael seemed to struggle with this, and Adam tried peaking up at him to see if he could catch his expression. Adam was curious what excuse he'd come up with for this one, if any; he wouldn't even be mad at the insinuation that Adam could've done something deserving of spending an eternity down here when he'd managed to make it into Heaven before.

Michael's arms clenched around him again, but softer this time and without the anger. Adam didn't manage to get anything from his expression (Adam admitted to stupidity in hindsight; Michael's face was hardly a display of emotion, and there was no reason for this time to be any different), but Michael let out an almost audible sigh. His Archangel's emotions, unlike the rest of him, were anything but tame. Adam could feel the conflict and confusion as strongly as if they were his own.

Lucifer seemed to grasp from Michael's sudden silence that he'd scored his first point in this back-and-forth because he smirked, suddenly confident from this small but important victory. At any other time, Adam might have been amused and grateful that Lucifer was getting through to Michael on the whole 'God issue.' Right now, though, Lucifer trying to use this to distract from him having killed their brother and then throwing Adam into the argument made Adam furious.

'Screw it,' Adam thought, 'I'm done shutting up.'

"Look, obviously, none of us are having the time of our lives down here, but it doesn't really do to dwell on the whys and hows. We have to make the best of our situation while still being ready to take any chances that turn up to get out of here. This, right here—" Adam shook the laptop to remind them both that it was there. "—this is the closest we've gotten; the only information we have available."

Lucifer stared at him. He could sense he had Michael's attention as well.

"Michael's got a right to be mad. His brother's dead, and he's only just found out. Lucifer, you have a right to be mad too. About being stuck here again, I mean. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on Michael since it wasn't even his fault this time. You told me, yourself, that fighting down here's pointless, so maybe stop trying to instigate one." Adam glared at Lucifer, trying to look braver than he actually felt. "And stop using me to antagonize Michael. It's hardly very creative of you."

"Your vessel's got bite, Michael. Real Winchester trait."

"Milligan," Adam corrected in further irritation. "Can we please just—" Adam shook the computer again in frustration. "We were really getting somewhere. Do you two wanna keep fighting about something neither of you can do anything about, or do you want to get educated? Cause I'm telling you, right now, if it turns out there was some way outta here we didn't know about that this did and we miss it, I'll find a way to make the both of you regret it…" Adam took another look at the both of them as they stared at him—Lucifer with an arched brow and Michael curiously—and felt his temporary bravery abandon him.

"…somehow," he muttered in a much weaker, lower voice.

For some reason, his outburst seemed to kick the two of them into gear. Michael suddenly arranged the laptop and the both of them so he had better access to the controls while still having a firm grip on him. Adam wondered if it was a good idea for Michael to be in charge��given his previous immersion (more like obsession) with said computer—but Adam figured he'd already said his piece. For now, he just wanted to feel like he was accomplishing something.

Neither Lucifer nor Michael apologized, but Adam assumed by their behavior that it was implied. Lucifer, at least, would never lower himself enough to do so—and Adam knew Michael would never do it in front of Lucifer, who'd no doubt use it as an excuse for further mockery.

Sometimes, seeing the devastation that was their relationship made him happy about never being able to build anything real with his own brothers. If having siblings caused one this much pain and drama, maybe he was better off without them.

Michael continued with the video route since they'd already proven useful. (And Adam's heart did ache for Michael about the Gabriel situation. Of all the stories Michael had told Adam of Heaven, the ones involving the trickster Angel had been his favorite.)

These videos involved more Angel drama: Drama that Adam still lacked some context to entirely understand. He could tell it was bad, though. And not just from the tenseness and feelings Michael was projecting from their bond.

"Raphael is dead too," was Michael's next despondent comment. The hurt practically emanated from him at this point—a dark rolling cloud of misery over his usual sunny brightness.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for that one. I think Castiel might have single-handedly done more damage in these videos than I managed during our entire apocalypse escapade. I'd be in awe if it weren't so insulting." Lucifer certainly didn't look amused.

"Much as I hate to agree with you, there is something seriously wrong with that Angel. He seems incapable of following orders or respecting authority. There's no need to make light of our prophesized battle by referring to it as an escapade, though, Lucifer."

"Sure. Disrespect of authority. That's the problem." Lucifer's eyes rolled back so far in his head that Adam feared they'd get stuck that way. His sarcasm was so thick Adam could drown in it.

The videos kept going and kept getting progressively worse.

"At this point, the question we should be asking is if there are any angels left. Also…what's so special about Castiel that his death never seems to stick."

Neither Michael nor Lucifer appeared to like the implications. They both had to know the most likely reason for Castiel's constant revivals was God's favor. How Castiel could have earned said favor without trying when even Lucifer and Michael's fanatical bids to garner attention had resulted in radio silence, Adam didn't know. It just left the increasing impression of God being that crappy, absentee father Lucifer had painted him as, whether Michael was able to admit to it yet or not.

Purgatory, Soulless Sam, The Trials, The Angels Falling, The Mark of Cain, The Darkness: The hits never stopped. And…wait, was that supposed to be God? The guy writing the Winchester gospel and pretending to be a Prophet? What? When Michael and Lucifer said nothing, Adam decided to do the same. They either hadn't reached the same conclusion (noticed) or didn't want to discuss it and were ignoring it. Adam could get behind that.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this—feel free to slap me if I'm being ridiculous, 'cause I'm probably way out of line here—but…do you think maybe…we might actually be safer down here? Everyone up there seems to be cursed or something."

Apropos of nothing, without the slightest warning, Lucifer disappeared.

Adam stared at the now empty space. Gone. Just like that. Adam tensed and grasped onto Michael's arm around him, worried he or Michael might be next. Michael held on just as tight, also wary. Only after a few minutes of neither of them going anywhere did he lower his guard.

"Was it something I said?" Adam asked, suddenly feeling the need to whisper. "Did I jinx it?"

"Of course not. Lucifer must have been summoned."

"Who would or could summon Lucifer out of the cage?" He asked, then almost knocked himself out from the force of his own palm meeting face at his stupidity.

"Winchesters," both Adam and Michael ended up saying simultaneously.

"But why?" Adam asked.

"They must need an Archangel for something." And, boy, was Michael mad; the increased thunder and lightning noises from outside the cage evidence (representation) of his vast displeasure.

"They needed an Archangel, and they chose Lucifer?" That was dubious. Lucifer might help—especially if Sam was doing the asking—but he'd hardly do it for free. God knows what other mischief he'd get into while up there.

Given how they'd just been talking about a curse, there was also a good chance Lucifer would be killed. Adam felt weird thinking about it. Lucifer drove him crazy, and he was hardly a pinnacle of moral righteousness. But Adam would miss him. Adam had gotten used to thinking of Michael and Lucifer as his eternal companions. Now, one of them was gone. He couldn't help but grip Michael harder again, still slightly scared that he'd vanish, too, and Adam would be alone. That would be the end of his sanity right then.

"If the darkness destroyed the world…or whatever it is she does, would it affect us, too? Could Lucifer even defeat it?"

"Everything would be affected. The last time the darkness had to be shut away, it took the combined power of God and all four of his Archangels. Even then, it was still difficult and resulted in grievous injuries. I don't see how it could be accomplished unless God has returned to fight and decides to bring us all back."

Michael didn't even look hopeful while saying it, proof this new information and situation had him out of sorts. Adam just had to hope that if Michael was summoned, Adam would be taken as well. The Angel would still need a vessel, after all. Adam doubted Dean had suddenly changed his views on possession. Adam could also admit to jealousy at the idea of Dean taking his place in this instance. Dean hadn't wanted to be Michael's vessel, but Adam had been filling that role for so long now he no longer knew any other way to be.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

"There's nothing we can do," Michael admitted reluctantly. Adam knew Michael hated feeling helpless and not being able to do anything. Michael hadn't known a day of idleness until he found himself here. Adam had promised himself if they ever escaped, he'd insist on a vacation. They both deserved one, and there were so many places Adam had never gotten to see while alive that he thought Michael might get some pleasure from now.

"We should be on our guard, though, I'm guessing?"

Michael nodded against his back.

For a moment, Adam wanted to say, 'screw this,' and hide again in his angel companion's wings as he had so long ago. To forget everything and make that feathery embrace his entire world. It was strange, almost, how that seemed like a simpler time. It certainly hadn't seemed simple at the time.

"You just wanna watch some more of this Supernatural crap? It won't take our mind off anything, but I'm sure there's still much to learn. Why don't we look up some videos about ourselves? I'm sure we must have at least a few. Oh, and your brothers! We could find some about them too. See what they'd been up to before…well, just before. I hope this computer doesn't run out of power. Now that I'm thinking about it, it already should've run out if it was going to. You'd been messing with it for days before we'd even commented. I'm not even going to ask what had you so engrossed." Adam knew he was babbling but also knew Michael wouldn't mind. He'd told Adam before that he liked knowing what Adam was thinking but had difficulty figuring it out.

Adam rearranged himself again until he was comfy and brought YouTube back up. He was determined not to think about their imminent demise, the possibility of Michael disappearing, Lucifer being dead, or the Winchesters (despite them being prominent in everything and, therefore, impossible to ignore).

No.

None of those things existed right now. Adam and Michael were watching fiction. Pieces of a TV show. It had nothing to do with their lives at all. If he thought of it that way…maybe it would make these viewings easier to bear? Put less of a strain on his heart and his mind.

Adam took a deep breath, ready to start the next set of videos.

"You ready?" He asked Michael.

"It's only pragmatic to learn all we can. You said something similar yourself."

"Okay, what have I said about using my own words against me?"

"To not do so. Though I'm slightly confused about whose I should be using if not yours."

Adam sighed and shook his head.

Angels.

Hopeless.

All of them.

"Let's just get watching."

32 notes · View notes

destiel-wings · 1 year

Text

I've gathered some of my thoughts about The Winchesters season finale and here's why i think it gave me some peace

(yes, this does contain a destiel interpretation, too 💚💙)

Did i want to see Cas in it? Yes.

Was i disappointed that he wasn't? Actually, no (more on that later).

But I loved it. I was so stunned as I saw it and I felt like somehow it healed some of the wounds from the spn finale... but i couldn't quite understand why.

Here's why.

We basically watched Supernatural. Jensen reopened the finale and went further with it. What we saw in The Winchesters felt like a continuation of 15x20, even if it technically happened in between the last two scenes of the finale. But we got Bobby, we got Jack. They all actually talked, in a way that felt alive and real. Jack broke his rule of no interfering, showing that he still cared for Dean (just like he had broken his own rule off screen by saving Cas from the Empty). The Winchesters wasn't a prequel, but a sequel.

Dean got his own story, got to make something for himself (instead of just waiting for Sam on a bridge), and it's something that he wanted to do. He went back to look for hope and love, for a version of his parents where they could have a real chance.

We learn love (or we don't) and how to be in a happy relationship as kids by watching our parents, and Dean was doomed that way. He never had that example, to learn how to build a relationship and let himself be loved. He never learned that. So when he gets to heaven and he has the chance, before getting on that bridge, before meeting up with his family, with Sam... and yes, with Cas (even if we haven't seen him yet), he just needs a freaking minute. He needs a little time to himself. To reconnect. To understand. To reflect on love and what it means to love and be loved.

So he does what any fond child would do... he looks up at his parents. Only his parents that are right there in heaven didn't exactly have a happy ending (or even a happy middle), so he explores further, searching for a chance, a hope, a version of his own legacy where love was possible. Because if his parents can make it... so can he.

And we see all that through his own lenses (the weird use of the camera lenses with all those flares and glow resembles the aura of Dean's drive in heaven, thinking about it in retrospect).

screencaps of the glowy amber look and those camera flares, there's probably better examples but these are some of the best ones i could find

Dean's mission might have been the Akrida, but the reason he went looking, the real quest he was after, was hope. Hope for a happy ending. Hope for love, where said love was doomed from the start.

And it's not surprising that there were destiel parallels everywhere, because that was Dean's POV, and he's processing his own feelings. Which is something he needs to do before he sees Cas again.

And personally, I think Dean loves Cas back and he knew that before dying, but still, that doesn't mean that he's not afraid of messing it up. That he knows how to approach him, or face Cas, after all that's happened.

He may not even be doing all of this thinking consciously, but the Castiel subtext we've seen in The Winchesters, from a narrative POV, is Dean's.

We're seeing the parallels because he's seeing them, making them, it's his way of processing. Of seeing what he and Cas had, and what they could have. Looking for hope.

And, as he himself said before leaving again... i think he found it.

So i don't know how things are going to go on from here. I can't imagine how we could have Dean in a season two. I've been saying all along that The Winchesters might open the story for a SPN revival/s16, and i think it is perfectly possible that this might happen here.

The Winchesters might not have Dean anymore, becoming its own show (but still having lots of references and guest stars from Supernatural) and *as Jensen loves to say* when we get the revival, there will be the space to address Castiel's confession and give his character the importance that it needs.

It wouldn't have made sense to see Cas here in a little cameo, it wouldn't have been enough. But what we saw here, was the confirmation of Jensen reopening the finale, and his willingness to bring Dean back (as he's always stated), for whatever more he's allowed to do.

I love the way they handled it, we still got peace and hope (even if there were to be no s2), and i feel like we're all more confident that the bridge scene is not an ending, but a beginning of something more. Dean has said he's gonna go look for his family. That's not just Sam.

Of course he's gonna see Cas too. But i don't think any of us would've been satisfied to see him pop up randomly for a couple of minutes in TW, with little to no mention of what happened between them.

Also, i want to point out that this was supposed to be the midseason finale but they had to adapt it when they found out they didn't get a full season, we could've had much more (like more narrating voices as Jensen had teased) or even seeing more of Dean, instead of just seeing him in the pilot and the season finale. They even asked Misha to be there (and he refused for scheduling conflicts since he was busy filming Gotham Knights *but said he's absolutely willing to appear later*).

So i think there's still so much story to tell here and i am absolutely hopeful and trust that we will love it.

I think they did an amazing job in 13 episodes, and I can't wait to see what's next 💖

#the winchesters #the winchesters season finale #the winchesters comments #my commentary #the winchesters theories #the winchesters prequel #the winchesters 1x13 #the winchesters season 1 #renew the winchesters #spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #castiel #the winchesters cw #getting castiel back #dean winchester is coming back #i am so emotional

248 notes · View notes

calisources · 9 months

Text

CW'S SUPERNATURAL SENTENCE QUOTES. all sentences have been taken from mostly the kripke era (season 1 to season 5) of erik kripke's supernatural, mainly season four and five. change names/pronouns/locations as you see fit.

SEASON FOUR .

If you're going to shoot, shoot! Don't talk!

Please. Dean, maybe angels can pull you out of Hell but no one can do that.

So, you guys are like Mulder and Scully or something, and the X-Files are real?

It was beauty that killed the beast.

Anna may have sent the angels to the outfield, but sooner or later, they're gonna be back.

I suppose some dumb bastard stood here, felt a jolt of his holy juice and thought 'I'm going to build me a nun factory.' Well, it was the right idea... wrong angel.

Tell me something. Where's God in all this?

I'm not sure if he's my brother any more. If he ever was.

Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family.

If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back.

You don't know me. You never did, and you never will.

Congrats, Sammy. You just bought yourself a benchwarmer seat to the Apocalypse.

I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you.

Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So, you either get as far away from them as possible. Or you put a bullet in your head, And that's how you keep your family safe.

You know I finally get why you and dad butted heads so much. You two are practically the same person.

I mean I worshipped the guy, y'know: I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listened to the same music. But you are more like him than I will ever be. I see that now.

Okay, so basically you're saying that every movie monster, every nightmare that I've ever had, that's all real.

He's a Winchester. He's already cursed.

It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant! I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night level douchiness.

Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone.

I'm not a hero, I'm not strong enough.

I know our fate rests with you.

I couldn't break him, pulled out all the stops, but John, he was made of something unique. The stuff of heroes.

You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap.

Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the Veil and you find the Reaper. how are you going to save it?

SEASON FIVE.

The only thing you're going to see out there is Michael killing your brother.

I'm gonna rip you apart from the inside out. Do you understand me?

No doubt - endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it?

You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can.

Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.

Sorry if it's a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite.

Well, I got to ask. How old are you?

As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless - at the end, I'll reap him, too.

That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth.

You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.

World's gonna end, seems silly to get all precious over one little soul.

Why? Because Crowley said so? Because we trust him now?

You think you own the planet? What gives you the right?!?

No one gives us the right. We take it.

You're not my father. And you ain't in my shoes.

I mean, whatever happened to personal loyalty? How long have I worked for these guys. Five millennia? Six?

It's funnier in Enochian.

This creature has the power to take a human's form, read minds.

And you think you know better than my father? The one unimportant little man. What makes you think you get to choose?

It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes.

Think of the million random choices that you make--and yet how each and everyone of them brings you closer to your destiny.

As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth. One brother has to kill the other.

Well, call it personal experience. Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.

You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything.

Now, tell me... does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right?

Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing, and how many of you blame me for it?

Honestly, people don't need a reason to kill each other. I mean, you seen the Irish? They're all Irish.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme

93 notes · View notes

natisideas · 20 days

Text

This could be the end of everything.

This was never meant to happen, at all. The hunt was going so well, at least that's what you had hoped. It was just a normal hunt gone wrong. "[Y/N] please be okay. You're gonna be okay." Sam cried as he was holding you in his arms. "I never meant to hurt you baby. Never." He whimpered. "I-i know honey, i-i'll be okay. I promise." You spoke choking on your blood.

"Sammy?" You knew that familiar deep voice. It was Dean. "Sammy!" He repeated himself. "In here, Dean!" Sam yelled trying to hold back his tears.

"Sammy what's going o-" Dean was cut off by seeing the way you were faintly breathing in Sammy's arms. "What happened Sammy?" He asked, trying not to panic.

"I-i don't know, I turned around for 2 seconds and I turned back around and she was on the floor just bleeding." He said trying not to panic.

"Okay, it's okay [Y/N]. You'll be okay." "Here just put this on your wound. We'll get you to a hospital." Dean spoke while he held the piece of cloth on your wound.

Sam picked you up carefully trying not to hurt you. They eventually put you in the back seat and return to the front.

"You're gonna be okay. Just try and hold on baby." Sammy spoke looking at you through the rear view mirror.

"Sammy. I-it hurts." You spoke out. "I know honey. I know."

He hated that he had to see you like this. Especially when he's the one who got you into hunting. Sure, you knew about it. But, you never actually thought about hunting. You're dad was a hunter eventually, that's what got him killed.

That's what made you not want to hunt. It hurt like hell because your dad was the only thing you had left to call family. That was until, Sam and Dean Winchester.

"We're here hurry up." Dean spoke getting out the car and opening the back door to his car to slowly pick you up.

They rushed inside, and asked for a doctor. Eventually, you made it into a hospital room and were resting.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" Spoke a female voice. "Uh yes, that's us." They spoke in unison. "Okay um, I'm not sure how to say this." "What's going on?" Asked Sam in a worrisome voice. "She's not doing well. She's lost a lot of blood. Her chances of survival are very very slim." "She'll have to be hospitalized until she recovers. If she does that is." The doctor expressed. "Okay thank you." She nodded and walked away.

"Her chances of survival are very very slim." That one sentence replayed in his head over and over and over again. He couldn't lose his best friend. Not now. This is when he needed you the most. He felt angry. Angry that he got you into this in the first place.

"Dean?" Sam said. "Yeah Sammy?" He asked. "Do you think she'll make it?" Sammy asked. "Yeah. She's a strong woman. She'll make it." Dean told him. "I hope so."

It had been days. You still haven't gotten any better. Maybe that was a sign. A sign that It was time to let go. Sammy was just sitting there listening to the beeping monitor. Sam was scared he was soon going to see the flat line that he didn't want to see. That neither of them wanted to.

But, it was too late. The sound he wished he didn't have to hear, he did. You're line went flat. "CAN WE GET A DOCTOR IN HERE" "PLEASE HURRY." A few doctors and nurses came running in, rushing to try and save you. "Okay sir, calm down. We'll try everything we can!" Yelled the nurse. "We're going to need you to step outside real quick." Spoke the doctor. "no no no no. I won't! That's my girlfriend!" Sammy yelled out trying not to cry. "I understand that sir but for now, you should leave!"

He obliged. Sammy didn't have another choice but to stand there and walk away. As he was walking away he Heard something that broke his heart, forever.

"Time of death? 3:26 AM"

He cried out in tears when he sat out in the waiting area. Sammy had called Dean on the phone crying. Telling him about what happened. It broke Dean apart to hear his brother cry and being told that one of his best friends was dead.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked rushing in. Sam didn't say anything but stand there and cry. Dean rushed to him and hugged. They were both devastated. Emotional. They had lost their one thing that made them their special trio.

"It's going to be okay Sammy." Dean spoke holding back tears.

"Dean, This could be the end of everything."

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x plus size reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #misha collins #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #angst #Spotify

23 notes · View notes

daughterofcain-67 · 7 months

Text

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱.4)

(Dean Winchester x Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After Sam and Dean have finally found you, they ask for your help to find Metatron so Dean will be able to defeat him. But how will something as simple as being around another holder of the mark effectively both you and Dean? Will it even effect either of you at all? Come to find out, angels are killing themselves in Castiel's name.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Seasons nine and ten spoilers so please be warned. Primarily (but not accurately) based on Season 9 Episode 22 : Stairway to Heaven. The episode will float into part 5. Torture, violence, death, mentions of suicide, may not be suitable for all audiences.

Previously…

The burning in your arm was different. And it was more intense than what you’ve ever felt before. You knew you didn’t feel it with your father because that was a mere vision but this? This was real. He was coming.

Dean Winchester was there.

Then your gaze landed on the slightly shorter hunter and you knew he just had to be Dean. He had they eyes of a killer and you could see it now. You saw why he was worthy to bare the mark. He had already seen and done so much and you were sure of it.

The mark on Dean’s arm burned to such an intensity, he knew that there was sort of connection between the two of them. He looked at his brother Sam who was trying to fake the fact that he didn’t know what this girl was talking about. If this was about the Mark of Cain, he knew that he and Sam needed to have a talk. A serious one at that.

Somehow, Sam was the one that convinced you to join them and meet their angel friend, Castiel. Never in the centuries you've been alive have you ever thought that you'd meet an angel. But then again you've heard of their fall and to you they didn't seem to be as big of a threat as they used to be.

You couldn't help but feel a little awkward though while you sat in the back of Dean's car. You could tell that there was some kind of tension between the two brothers. It's not like you knew what it was.

You wondered how the Hell you were supposed to get to know these people. And why did they think you could help with anything? Why would they think that you would even want to help?

You remembered your father's words, remembering that he said to go along with these brothers. You had heard of two brothers saving the world, and a part of you wondered how they could manage that if they got tense like this.

Taking in a deep breath, you began to speak.

"So... what exactly is this Castiel is wanting to know?" You asked.

"Well, you see, Y/N.. Castiel and the both of us have been searching for Metatron. And he mentioned to me that someone like you could be of some help. Hopefully.” Sam told you

“Plus, there was a report of an angel missing. We don’t know if it was one of Castiel’s angels or Metatron’s. We think the vessel could have been possessed by a demon, overpowering the angel, when he came to look for you.” He continued and you remembered the very first demon that came to your tattoo parlor.

"I can confirm there was a demon there. The angel seemed to be long gone though. And the vessel... it perished with the demon." You confessed.

"You think the angel found a new vessel before goin' back to Cass?" Sam asked his brother, as if he was hoping for some kind of dialogue. But the older brother let out some kind of grunt, as if he had something a little different on his mind.

"Maybe. Still don't know why demons would get involved with this whole thing." Dean said, gaze never leaving the road ahead of them.

You subconsciously placed a hand over your mark, knowing damned well why that demon came. But you didn't think it would really be worth mentioning. Cain didn't have anything to do with Metatron, neither do you. And you don't care what Crowley was looking for you for.

"Back to the Metatron thing... how exactly are you thinking of handling him? He's not an ordinary angel you know." You said, changing the topic a little. Anything would beat the silence among you and these two practical strangers.

"The First Blade."

Those three words flowed from Dean so effortlessly. Hearing him even talk about the powerful weapon almost put you in a trance. You had heard of all of it's corrupted and bloody splendor. But you yourself had never been able to use is. Your father wielded it for years before he parted from it. Who knew where it was.

"How are you supposed to get your hands on it? No one knows where it is and you'd have to have a specific tracking spe-"

"One step ahead of you. We've already got he blade and-" Sam began.

"Not for much longer..." Dean interrupted.

"Well... We may have to entrust it to Crowley again for the time being until we can locate Metatron."

You looked at Sam before looking at Dean. It was gradually coming together. The blade and his mark, is that what the two are tense about right now?

You shifted your gaze to the window and watched as all the trees seemed to zoom by while Dean drove.

"It's a safe precaution whether you like it or not, Dean." You managed to speak.

"Yeah and what the Hell do you know about precautions with that thing? We know you've never used it so what do you know about what it's like?" Dean asked and you rolled your eyes and started to glare at the hunter.

"I knew it was in the bottom of the deepest ocean. I spied on Cain the night that it happened. When he left, I went to the bottom of that ocean and retrieved it. I had my share of killing with it and trust me, its more intense for demons than it could ever be for a mortal like you. I know exactly what the high is like. I know the great urge it gives you because I've used it on many before going into hiding. Demons looked for me when I left Hell. And there was a reason they didn't know where I was for so long." You said as the car came to a stop. Apparently they were wherever this angel's base was.

Then you saw Dean look at you in the rearview mirror and you spoke again.

"Just because you're the legendary Dean Winchester, just because you have that mark, because my father thought you were worthy of the mark, and just because you think you're a strong enough hunter, does not mean you are above precaution."

"That blade is like the worst kind of poison but the best kind of drug. And if you want to hold on to your own humanity, to hold on to your brother, you'd thank him to give that blade to Crowley, even if he is the scum of the earth." You said as you got out of the car and nearly slammed the door behind you.

Sam and Dean were both rendered a little speechless. Neither of them were initially sure of what to say when they watched you get out of the car. Then Sam looked at Dean with a brow arched.

"What did she mean when she mentioned Cain seeing something in you?" Sam asked and Dean shook his head, not really wanting to get into it with him.

"I can't believe you and Cass knew about her. What is this supposed to be? Some kind of intervention? I swear it's always something with you and this damned thing when you know I'm right and we need the blade." Dean said only for Sam to scoff.

The two brothers got out of the car and they lead you into Cass's base. Once they did, Dean saw Castiel making his way over.

"Good, you're here. There's been a complication." Castiel spoke in his typical monotonous tone.

Dean's brows narrowed and the three of you followed the angel before they were in the part of his quarters where the other angels were working on their computers, soundboards and other devices.

All of the angels looked at the four of you. Although you felt singled out because you were the only demon amongst angels. Castiel reassured them you were there to help. You were sure they had questions but it's not like they asked. Not yet anyway.

"You guys are going to want to see this." One of the other angels said and Castiel, Sam, and Dean all went to the angel's computer and looked on the screen.

What the three of them saw was an angel in a trench coat going into an ice cream parlor. He tore open the coat to reveal some sort of carving in his chest and the angel shouted "I do this for Castiel!"

The next thing they saw, the angel used a blade on himself, a little girl screamed and everyone in that parlor was killed. Six humans were killed in the crossfire.

Dean's jaw clenched when he watched everything. He knew this was bad. His gut was telling him that there was no way Castiel could orchestrate something like this. But he looked over at the trench coat wearing angel and put his hands in his pockets.

"What the Hell did you do? What the Hell was that?" Dean asked sternly. "Did you know anything about this?"

"No, of course I didn't. I would never ask one of my own to kill innocents." Castiel assured and looked at the screen again at the symbol. Meanwhile Dean looked skeptical. This wouldn't be the first time the angel has lied to his face.

"Cass, why would an angel blow up an ice cream shop in your name?" Sam asked, confused but a part of him wanted to believe Castiel. He just wanted to get to the bottom of this whole thing.

"Wait a moment, there was an angel there. Esther." Hannah, one of Castiel's angels began. "She's one of Metatron's."

"Oh so this really was a hit?" Dean asked and crossed his arms.

"Dean you can't honestly believe I did something like this."

"Look I know you have good intentions, I do. You try. But this whole thing is more like a cult! But the last time you tried to be a leader you killed both angels and humans! It didn't matter to you and you lied about it!" Dean said.

"Guys, let's take this somewhere else." Sam said.

You watched the three of them go up to Castiel's office. You weren't sure if you were to follow them or not so you stayed. You wanted to gather at least some kind of information about this operation.

After all you had basically lived under a rock so to speak and all you had to go on was what your father told you in that vision.

"So what are you really doing here, Demon? Is Crowley trying to corrupt this operation?" An angel asked.

You looked at one of them and lifted a brow.

"It isn't any business of yours whether I even work with Crowley or not. I don't care if he's the King of Hell, I don't care if Metatron wins or loses. I don't even care about this little cult type thing you have going on. The Winchesters swooped me up and said I could be useful for something and I'm just along for the ride." You said.

"Yeah. Likely story coming from a liar." another backtalking angel spoke and stood up.

You didn't know if he was trying to start a fight but you rolled up your sleeves and got prepared.

Hannah was the first one that noticed your mark and she delicately placed a hand on you. "If Castiel says you are here to help, he is to be believed." then she looked at the angel causing a problem.

"Have a seat and see if you can track down the angel that's missing. Castiel will want a report on Josiah to know he is unharmed. We know he was going to Colorado so find out why he was going there. There's something suspicious going on and we need to be prepared for whatever Castiel orders us to do next." Hannah advised and he did as he was told.

Then Hannah looked at you. You saw some sort of softness in her eyes despite the obvious skepticism you couldn't blame her for.

"I don't know why Castiel insisted you help us. Or why the Winchesters insisted you join them. But we really don't mean any harm. We simply want to go home. when this is all over." She told you.

You looked at her with confusion. Why was she believing you? In all honesty you didn't think you could even help with this matter. You really did feel like you were along for the ride and just wanting to know why Sam and Dean came to your parlor. Unless the boys weren't telling you everything yet.

Dean still didn't like the idea of any of this. They still had an angelic civil war going on in the sidelines. Cass shouldn't be leading especially after what happened the last time he tried to rebel. So many died in the crossfire all for "good intentions" that fell through.

"Look, guys. All we need to focus on right now is that there's a case and we need to work it. So, Cass. Did you know the angel in the video?" Sam asked, trying to be a mediator before a new hell broke loose and they'd never get anything done.

"Yes, his name was Oren. He was a new recruit. He worked at a community out reach. The angels in my charge are typically in hospitals helping where they can through minor miracles. Nothing to draw attention." Castiel explained.

"Yeah well this is a hell of a way to help the community." Dean muttered and Sam rolled his eyes.

"What do you know about the markings on his chest?" Sam said, trying his best to stay on track.

Castiel glared at Dean for the comment and knew he was going to be stubborn for a while and he looked back at Sam, "Enochian Runes. I think they must've been for focusing energy. When he stabbed himself, it resulted in the unleashing of that power."

"So if Esther was the target, what happened to her?" Sam asked.

"If she was the primary target, then if the energy was that intense then she would be atomized and reduced to nothing." Castiel said. Then there was some sort of silence.

"So what is our next step? What should we do?"

"Well you're not to do anything. We need to do some investigating and if the other angels think that you're really behind all this, they won't do any talking if you're around." Dean said sternly.

"You cannot expect me to sit here and do nothing. If you do not want my help or assistance I will go and search for Josiah. His trail was going to Colorado so that is where I will look. I have to do something."

"Alright, you know what? Fine. But Sam is going with you." Dean said and both Sam and Castiel looked.

"Because you don't trust me?"

"No, he'll be there to help."

The night came and Sam drove Castiel's vehicle to go to Colorado. Now was a good a time as any to fill Castiel in.

"Abaddon is dead. And then some. Dean really took it too far and I'm glad we followed up on that rumor. She's more than a rumor now. Maybe she can convince Dean to ease up on everything." Sam said.

"Have the effects worsened after you found her?" Castiel asked, knowing the effects of the mark were already bad for Dean. Of course he was always angry and on edge, but intensified tenfold.

"Oddly enough, it hasn't gotten worse. But we haven't given it much time to see if it will help or harm Dean any further. Although they did have a bit of a fight and it's clear Y/N knows a few things about what Dean is going through. Maybe he can learn some things from her."

"What did they fight about?"

"Well I can't really say fight, more of Dean saying something he shouldn't have and Y/N giving him an earful before we went into your little compound. She said that the blade is like the worst poison but the best drug. She said she's used it before and used them on some of the demons that tried to follow her and take her back to Hell. I assumed sometime after that before she went into hiding she tossed it back to wherever Crowley found it." Sam explained.

"She said it was more intense for her as a demon than it could ever be for Dean since he was human. And... and that he should listen to me if he wants to hold on to his humanity."

"Hold on to his humanity.. You don't think she's referring to what happened to her father do you?" Castiel inquired.

"I don't know. Maybe. I just hope he won't get to that point. She made the suggestion we give the blade to Crowley. But I partially agree with Dean. We need it to kill Metatron. Crowley is next on the list anyways. But if Dean can just agree to leaving the blade behind and using it only for emergencies, for the big boss fights, that would be great and it would be one of the bigger steps he would need to take."

"But it's hard to get him to agree to it?"

"Cass, we've been arguing about that blade too many times. It's honestly so tiring and he doesn't want to listen. He's so set on taking it everywhere..."

"What if you gave it to Y/N? For safe keeping?"

"Do you really think we should take a risk like that? She went into hiding to stay out of the demons way because of Abaddon. Now that her mother's dead, giving that blade to her may be just as bad of a mistake as Dean even accepting the mark."

"She would have a better handle of the effects. She used the blade and she was the one that chose to throw it back where she found it. She did it willingly, without having a sibling to argue with her about it."

Sam stayed silent for a few moments, honestly considering the angel's words. He knew Dean wanted to be the one that killed Metatron. And honestly, you didn't seem like you cared enough to kill Metatron so that wouldn't be an issue. It would be a matter of convincing Dean to let you have it for a while.

"You know.. it might work. I don't know how Dean will handle it but maybe while she has it in a safe place, she can teach Dean how to cope with the effects before he changes forever." Sam said.

"I wish you luck.. with Dean, I know you're going to need it."

Dean stayed behind in Cass' quarters to... interrogate... some angels that Cass said worked in the hospital to see if he can get any leads on Oren.

He sat down at a table across from an angel so they could talk.

"He was a joy to be around. He was bright."

"Yeah, lovely. But why would he light up his own fuse with that explosive personality you liked so much." Dean said, clearly unamused.

"You think this is funny? I don't have any information. So if you could just let me go, I have lives to save. Unlike you." The angel said and Dean's hands turned into a fist in his lap.

"And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"You think you save people but you do more harm than good. I clear up a clogged artery here and there, remove some blood clots. But you? It's like the only way to solve a problem is with a gun or knife. You pretend to do good but you're nothing but a killer and you know it." the angel said.

"Your soul will be forever stained with red and I hate men like you."

That was it for Dean. He had it up to this point and flipped the table on its side. He lunged at the angel in her chair and tossed her back against the floor.

He pulled an angel blade out and held it against her neck and glared, the light no longer shining in his eyes and he was doing everything he could not to slice her throat but he knew he needed her alive.

"Honey, there ain't no other men like me."

With the threat of her life on the line, the angel revealed the name Constantine. He was one of Oren's supposed friends. Then there was the name Tessa. The same Tessa that Dean recognized. The one that's come after his soul once or twice. What would she have anything to do with this?

He let go of her and the angel got up and left the room. But not before giving Dean a disgusted look.

Oh what Dean would have given to stab her then and there but he knew that if he did he would never hear the end of it from Sam.

But then his mind floated back to what you said that day.

What if you were right about the blade? Unfortunately he had lied to Sam about taking it along for this hunt. He never knew when they would need it and Dean didn't want to have a need for it on a hunt one day only for it to be back at the Bunker.

He couldn't be without that blade and while you may have been right about the effects, he knew you would agree about the sort of calm that it gives you when you simply hold it. It's like a relief to what you're feeling because of that curse.

But another thing that was puzzling to him was despite the obvious tension in the car between him and his brother, having you there was another kind of calm, similar to what the First Blade gave even when the burning was more intense in your first encounter.

Speaking of the devil, you walked into the room.

On your way down the hall you saw an angel rushing to get as far away from Dean as possible. All you wanted to do was find out how the discussion went and from the looks of it, it didn't go very well.

When you were in the room, you saw Dean pinching the bridge of his nose and his brows were narrowed. You saw a table flipped on its side and a chair tossed down with Dean standing beside it.

You presumed he sensed your presence because he let his hand down and looked at you.

"What? Are you here to tell me I went too far or something?" He asked and you knew he was frustrated. You didn't know the amount of what he had on his plate.

"The opposite, actually. I half expected to find you standing over a dead body and the angel with a knife in her neck." You said bluntly and Dean rolled his eyes.

You sighed and you walked over to him.

"Look, I know we didn't start on the right foot. Especially with your little comment about the first blade earlier. I don't know who's idea it was to look for me. Frankly I don't care who you kill or don't kill. I'm still lost as to why people think I can help with anything but I really can't. I'm just a demon parading as a tattoo artist." You began.

"But from what I can see, you have a brother who cares about you. He doesn't want you to go down the path Cain did. It's ugly, it's black, it's bloody and he doesn't want to see you turn into something he can't recognize." You said and crossed your arms.

Dean lowered his head and looked down at the angel blade in his hands. Of course he knew Sam had good intentions. Cass always has good intentions. Hell, Dean even has good intentions. But they say the way to Hell is paved with good intentions.

"It's not like there's anything that can be done about the mark. I have it, I'm stuck with it. Might as well use it for whatever good I can before I start weighing people down with it." Dean spoke. This was probably the most he's been open about this sort of thing.

All he ever really tells Sam is that he's fine. He's fantastic. He can't really be honest with his own brother about it because he could never understand what he's going through.

"How bad is it?" You asked.

"What?"

"How bad is the mark effecting you? Really?"

"Don't you think we can talk about this a little later? We have a reaper to find and I need to tell Sam what's going on."

You shouldn't be surprised. And honestly from what you saw that day, you weren't surprised that he would shut you down that fast. You were still a practical stranger, but you knew he wasn't above working with demons if he went with Crowley to find Cain in the first place.

"Oh stop trying to be one of those stoic pinheads that hold their traumatic shit in all the damn time and take their problems out on everyone. Cain's who knows where, Crowley doesn't know what you're going through and Sam could never even begin to fathom the weight of everything." You said.

"We're on a car ride for barely a day and we've known each other for a matter of hours and you think you know what's going on with me? Get over yourself. We have a job to do." Dean said and tried to walk away.

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand and pinned Dean against the wall. You knew Dean was strong as he tried to resist but your grip was firm as you walked over.

"You don't want to open up to me, fine. Don't. But don't ignore me or brush me off." You said before slowly releasing your grip so he could stand on his own.

You took his arm, ignoring his protests, and you rolled up his sleeve to reveal his mark. You barely let our thumb graze over it, Dean didn't move. Instead, you could feel him get a little less tense.

"I don't know exactly why Sam wanted you to come along. But if he expect you to talk me into slowing down he really needs to understand that I'm fine. Everyone's got their shit they need to handle and this is mine." Dean told you in a less argumentative tone.

"Then you really need to start asking yourself how far you're willing to go. How many people are you willing to lose? How many loved ones will you leave behind because you won't accept the help. This mark? It's not a gift, Dean. It's a curse. And you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." You said and looked up at him.

"Just something to think about. Now let's go find your little reaper."

Dean watched you walk out of the room and that pain in his arm came back. He didn't flinch since he was used to it, but the fact that it actually subsided for a while baffled him.

He started thinking about what you said. He still didn't like the fact that Sam would go behind his back like this just to get someone like you to talk to him. But all of this talk of a curse coming from a demon, maybe Dean should put things into perspective just a little more. As much as Sam was a pain in the ass, he still didn't want to lose the only family he had left.

Thank you guys for reading! I didn't want this to be too long of a chapter but you can expect part 5 to be released soon and it will have this episode as part of its continuation! Thank you to all of you who have been giving me feedback, it really is much appreciated. I'm so glad you all have come this far with this story with me and I'm excited to see where it goes! Feel free to give me your hypothesis on what could happen next between the reader and the Winchesters!

tag list:

@roseblue373 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @deans-spinster-witch @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #jensen ackles #dean winchester #dean imagine #spnfandom #dean x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester imagine #mark of cain #mark of cain dean #moc dean #moc!dean

58 notes · View notes

thatfanficstuff · 8 months

Note

Could you write something for this gif? This is my first Supernatural request 🥹

I haven't written for Dean or Supernatural in ages. Thank you for the request!

~~~

Stupid

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Things had been quiet recently, which was an oddity in and of itself when you thought about it. But you'd simply enjoyed the time with Sam and Dean, getting closer to the two brothers that had saved you from a Demon many moons ago.

The problem with that closeness was that now that they had a hunt, you didn't want them to leave. You were terrified something would happen and you wouldn't be there to help. You'd been dancing around asking them to take you with them all day.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked the third time you paced by the library door where he was gathering research materials.

Your brows shot up as you feigned a look of surprise. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He just looked you over for a moment before shaking his head with a shrug and turning back to his work. Sam was too perceptive, you needed to find Dean.

You'd been avoiding him, not wanting to say goodbye to the older Winchester. Don't get it wrong, you loved Sammy, but you were in love with Dean. You weren't quite sure when it happened and you weren't about to make any midnight confessions or anything but you couldn't help but worry for him in a completely different way. A deeper way.

And gods it annoyed you. Stupid Dean with his stupid smile and his stupid flannel and his stupid love for pie. You leaned in the doorway of the garage and watched him give one last look over Baby. You traced a tongue over your lower lip as your gaze ran over his stupid perfect form. Stupid.

"Who's stupid, sweetheart?" that deep voice rumbled as Dean poked his head around the hood to look at you.

Oops. You must have said that out loud. "Me."

He frowned and wiped his hands off on a rag before moving over to you. "Don't."

That was all he said, but it was enough. He didn't like you saying anything negative about yourself. You shrugged and grasped onto the edges of his flannel where it hung open. "You be careful."

He studied you for a moment while you just stared back. Finally, his gaze softened as he smirked. "You'll do everything we tell you. You'll stay at the hotel while we hunt and you will answer every call from us. And you will be ready to leave in thirty minutes."

It took a minute for you to realize he was inviting you along. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He cupped the back of your head in his hand and pressed a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

#kat answers stuff #dean winchester x reader #gif drabble #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

78 notes · View notes

saltygilmores · 23 days

Text

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-3x8: Let The Games Begin aka Let The ShitCircus Begin Aka Clowntown (Part 2)

@ernestonlysayslovelythings: "Luke saying "Rory will rub off on Jess" seems like a missed opportunity for a joke" Indeed, my friend. He lobbed me a softball and I missed the catch. In all fairness, I was ducking it in hopes that said softball would miss me and bean Lorelai in the forehead. *cracks knuckles* *deep inhale*

Rory and Jess have just signed an 8 month No Rubbing Off contract. Rory is saving all Rubbing Off until marriage. Not her marriage, just a marriage (okay, fine,I plagarized this one) There will be no Rubbing Off until funding for the Handjobs For the Hollow initiative is secured

Shane : (emitting a series of swan honks) Translation: “I was rubbing off on him every day! Until he fucking cut off my hands!" At least I think that's what she said. There are different swan dialects. I’m still learning how to translate, doing SwanOLingo…

After Kirk comes into the diner grief stricken about his missing Dance Marathon trophy, Rory arrives after, where she appears nervous and has a very stilted and awkward interaction with Luke, and my brain was so half asleep that I couldn't figure out why. Then I'm like...oh yeah. That whole Jess thing. Right. Someone just woke the hell up.

I love that this scene is supposed to take place after school (confirmed by Kirk asking Rory where she was at 10am today and she says school) and Jess is rubbing his eyes like he just woke up.

It's nice to see Rory looking at Jess like a deer caught in the headlights because she in quiet awe of him, as opposed to Rory looking at Dean like a dear in the headlights because she fears him.

Tomatos sign! Another reminder that this feral kitten is a grown woman's arch nemesis and in a few moments she's going to say she wishes he would die in a house fire. Don't listen to him, Luke. Look at this kitten. He's clearly emaciated. He got seperated from his feral cat colony and he's hungry. *checks for microchip* *puts out a tin of tuna* *pspspsps*

You would, miss Eats Parmesan Cheese Straight from the Can and Sandwiches With No Innards and French Toast Without Utensils. Soon to be Miss E Coli. We interupt this nonsense for some breaking news. As I was writing this, I was interrupted by an earthquake.

This must have been God breaking free of the heavens and blessing the union between Rory and Jess. Or more like Satan breaking free from the earth and cursing this bitch.

Smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy, this SexCriminal.

This was a grade a Filet Mignon Okuh right here. I will continue to delight in the fact that Rory and SexCriminalJess dated for 6-7 months and despite all the fretting from adults with nothing else to do but nose into the sex lives of adult teenagers, they never have sex, and after all that fuss and furious cockblocking she just ends up screwing Dean instead. The fact that the adults in Stars Hollow are so in awe of Jess' sexual prowess to believe that if Rory were to be in his presence unsupervised for mere moments, her clothes would just fly off and they'd be found humping on the floor is hilarious and infuriating but also, not completely untrue.

"There goes my nephew the Gigolo" He's in awe the speed in which his nephew works, as it would take Luke over 4 years to get Lorelai upstairs alone to makeout.

#SexCriminals Look at all this furious naked humping going on. By god, I bet she's already pregnant. This is the sexiest complete avoidance of eye contact I've ever seen. You better hurry and put a stop to this, Adults!

That kiss was so chaste Mama Kim wouldn't even blink. She could bring them to church and use them as explemary role models for abstinence. They're even Leaving Room for Jesus. Luke:

That was A MINUTE. I know we're going to hear from Lorelai at a future time about how Crusty impregnated her with the speed of a jackrabbit on Adderall, so Jess could theoretically knock Rory up in a few seconds using telepathy or something, but give the boy some damn credit. Can't you people let this kid have ANY fucking joy (or privacy) in his life? I am so mad. It takes a lot for me to get mad at Luke Danes. This is what Luke and Lorelai are imagining will happen in less than a minute:

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #Let The Shit CIrcus Begin #I mean #Let The Games Begin #LTGB #jess mariano #literati #rory gilmore #luke danes #gilmore girls season 3 #ive reached my limit for today with this one #Luke sucks

24 notes · View notes

romeulusroy · 1 month

Text

Imagine Ellen calling Sam and Dean after your family is killed: Pt. 1

"Y/n didn't tell us."

"Dean, they're not - it's not good." Ellen wasn't scared of a lot of things, but you spooked her pretty good. You showed up a few weeks ago. She'd known you since you were a kid, and your family were regulars. This time, though, something was different. Off. A large scar ran across the middle of your neck, deep and thick and shiny. You passed notes, refusing to talk. When she tried to converse with you, she was met with cold looks or thousand yard stares. You'd disappear for days and come back covered in blood and dirt, and god knows what else. A few times, you came back hurt but refused to be touched. If anyone came near you, you'd scare them off. One morning, while you were gone, she overheard what happened.

"We're on our way." When she told him, Dean's stomach sank. It was three months ago. Everyone came to visit, celebrating your toddlers' third birthday. You were finally settled down in a new house. The thought of going back to hunting hadn't even crossed your mind. It had been years since you were active. But your parents and siblings were. That was enough of a reason for them. You tried to fight them off, you really did, but there were too many of them. They were too strong. The screaming, the begging, the blood. You tried to bargain your life for your child's. They wouldn't listen. One by one, until it was your turn. You weren't supposed to survive. You were okay with dying. Relieved, even. But a neighbor called for help, concerned about the yelling, and they made it in time to save you.

"Don't tell them I called you." Ellen looks around the empty bar. There was no funeral, no wake, just a series of empty coffins. You salted and burned the bodies. You didn't want them coming back and suffering more than they had to. The house burned with them. Since then, you've been trying to track them. Ash has been helping you. He knew better than to joke around with you like he did others. Truthfully, you made him queasy. Your parents, your siblings, and your baby. An entire family murdered. The thought made Dean sick. Word would have spread quickly through the hunters, but you weren't saying anything. You didn't want anyone's help or sympathies. You wanted those monsters dead.

"What kind of thing would do this?" Dean heard you got out, they all had. He felt oddly sentimental about that: getting out for a better life for your kid, doing what none of your parents had. It gave him hope this life wasn't endgame. That was all gone now. He had a terrible feeling if they couldn't get through to you, this would be the last thing you ever did. Your brothers and sisters were all older. So, you became friends with Sammy. Dean babysat a few times while the rest of them were out. You were always sweet, even a little soft. You were afraid of your own shadow. Cried over lost dogs and insects with missing legs or bent wings. He wasn't the only one who worried you weren't made out for this life. That person was dead now, though.

"That's the problem. It was hunters."

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #supernatural #supernatural imagine #series #ennasfavorites

36 notes · View notes

spnexploration · 10 months

Text

Collared part 38

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: You go for a run with Sam

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.6k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 37 <- -> Part 39

Sam opened his bedroom door and was surprised to see you sitting on the floor opposite it. You looked up and hastily jumped to your feet when he saw you.

“Y/N? What's wrong?” he asked, worried. He wondered if Dean had done something to upset you, given you'd come to him not Dean.

“Umm, nothing’s wrong,” you said, a little awkwardly. He waited for you to go on, having found silence to be the best encourager. You were fidgeting with your hands, which he thought usually meant you were worried about what you were going to say. “Can I- umm- can I come with you on your run?”

That was it? He wondered. Why were you so scared to ask that? “Of course you can,” he said with a smile, trying to reassure you. It did make sense about why you'd come to him now.

“I, umm, I don't think I'll be as fast as you,” you muttered, looking at your feet. Ah, he thought, perhaps this was the reason for your hesitation.

“Hey, it's ok, we’ll go as fast or slow as you need to. I can always go again later if I really want to.”

You nodded, looking pleased. He noticed you were already in exercise gear, despite it being quite early. “How long were you waiting out here for me?”

“Uh, probably longer than I’d like to admit,” you joked.

“You sure everything's ok?”

“I'm fine, just wanna go for a run and don't want to scare Dean again.”

He'd wondered when Dean would come up. He might see if you'd talk more on the run.

“Ok, let's see what you've got, Bambi. I'll send Dean a text to tell him where you've gone.”

---

“So, is there a reason for the sudden interest in running?” Sam asked while he jogged alongside you. “Or have you always been keen and we were depriving you?” he joked.

“Oh, depriving, obviously,” you laughed. “Nah, I was never a huge one for running, but I thought I might need it now.”

He had a feeling he was getting close to your reason, but he didn't want to spook you and stop you from opening up. So he replied in an interested but casual tone of voice, “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Just, umm, just in case I need it.”

He looked at you sideways. That wasn’t really an answer and he knew you knew it. He waited. Your pace had slowed and he was walking alongside you now.

“For, umm... Forwhenyougoonhunts.”

It was hard to distinguish your words, but he thought he understood what you were saying. “You're worried about us going hunting again?” he asked gently.

“Umm, well, I'm not sure if worried is quite the right word... I mean, yes, a bit. But, umm...” you trailed off. He waited patiently.

“I don't want to be a burden,” you said very, very quietly.

He stopped walking and reached out to tug gently on your arm so that you would stop too. He tugged again until you faced him. “Believe me when I say, you are not a burden,” he said sincerely.

“I'm stopping you two from hunting,” you said with a choke in your voice.

“Did Dean say something?” He couldn't imagine Dean calling you a burden, but he could easily imagine him saying something that you'd interpreted that way. You had a tendency to see the worst in statements and Dean had a tendency to speak with his temper.

“No, no. But I'm sick of being the damsel in distress, only able to go outside with my bodyguards-come-minders, and getting in the way all the time at home. Not to mention stopping you from doing your jobs .”

“We don't think of you like that at all,” he said sincerely. He tried to wrack his brains for anything he or Dean had done recently that might have led to this. “Is this about when Dean got mad when you went outside? Or the weapons cache?”

“No, it's not really any one thing. Well, I mean, I guess the fact I couldn't even remember to pay for pants without Dean stepping in...”

“You're going to make mistakes, you were under a mind control spell and enslaved. But you can also learn from them, I bet you'll never make that mistake again.”

“But that's just it, I'm sick of needing supervision! I was an absolute mess the last time you guys went hunting, and you haven't done it again. There are people out there not being saved because I am incompetent!”

He opened his arms, wanting to hug you but giving you the choice to come to him. It seemed to him like there were two issues here – your worry about them not hunting, and then another, perhaps deeper and more strongly held, lack of self-confidence.

You took a step forward and leant against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, grateful you were willing to accept his comfort.

You pulled away and he let you go, his hands hovering near you a few seconds longer than strictly necessary as he gauged whether you might be unsteady on your feet. Old habits die hard, and his protective mannerisms towards you were certainly in that basket.

“Dean and I had discussed when we might start hunting again,” he started, mildly concerned how this conversation was going to go with you. Two weeks ago and you'd probably have started screaming at him already. “But we don't want to rush things with you. We've been sending hunts that we see to other hunters we know, so people are being saved even if we're not there.”

“What about the hunts those hunters would've been on otherwise,” you said sullenly. “And aren't you two, I dunno, particularly good at hunting? Surely not everyone has an angel at their beck and call and an underground giant lair.”

Sam didn't want to lie to you, but he also didn't really want to brag or escalate your feelings of being in the way. “Uh, ok, yes, we’re fairly good at our jobs.”

“And you want to get back to it.”

His heart wrenched. “Eventually, yes.”

“What do you mean ‘eventually’? It's been weeks and the only people you've hunted have been for me.”

Sam thought it was debatable whether Dean had wanted to get Azaneth so badly for you or because of what he'd done to you, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Healing takes time, not to mention that for half of that you still had a collar.”

“My point is that I am stopping you. You can't argue, it's true.”

This was going in circles. He decided to change tact, “You said you wanted to go for a run so you were ready. Is there anything else you've been thinking about?”

“Well, you guys don't like leaving me because I'm too useless, so-”

“Whoa, whoa, you are not useless.” He was right, it was the underlying lack of self-confidence. He put his hands on your shoulders. “I will take you running with me if you want it. I will, and I'm sure Dean will too, teach you anything you want to know, anything that you're interested in or that makes you feel safer. But I will not do it if you’re doing it because you think we need to see that. If you think you need to prove something to us, because you don’t.”

Tears gathered in your eyes and you brushed them away. “Thanks, Sam.”

“You have a think about if there's anything you want to do for you, and we will make it happen.”

You leant forward and gave him a hug again. He knew his words wouldn't fix things overnight, but he was pleased they seemed to have landed well with you for now.

“Dean's going to think I'm slower than a tortoise if we take any more time,” you joked, gesturing to the track. He chuckled and started jogging alongside you again.

---

“What's up, Bambi?” Dean looked up from his phone to ask, as you walked into the room.

“Can we, umm, try again with the gun? I thought about bringing one to you to ask but I didn't want to make you think I was threatening you, and I know it went badly last time but I think I'll be ok this time, but I'm sorry in advance if I’m not, but I-”

“Sweetheart, relax. You're rambling. Of course I will show you how to use a gun again.”

You gave him a small smile. It made your whole face light up.

“You wanna do it now?”

“Only if that's not inconvenient to you.”

“I look like I'm solving world hunger over here or something?” he said, gesturing to his phone in his hand. “I'm just doom scrolling.”

“Doom scrolling?”

“When the world is going to shit and you’re just scrolling social media and shit.”

“Right, well, can't say I know much about that.”

“Fuck! We never got you a proper phone. Right, let's do guns now and then when Sammy’s done making lunch, make him do some research with you on what kind of phone you want.”

You were staring at him incredulously. “Uh, if you wanna do that first I guess I can take over from Sam in the kitchen...” he said with a lot less confidence, not really sure what it was he'd done wrong but hoping that would fix it.

“No, no, I don't mind waiting. I just... That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. I didn't really think about a phone at all, haven't used one in so long.”

“Yeah, that's on me.”

“Dean, you don't have to take everything as your fault.”

“You been getting some speaking points from Sam?”

You laughed. “Come on, show me how to fail at loading a gun again.”

Taglist:

@malindacath

@stoneyggirl2

@iprobablyshipit91

@tiggytaylor

@ellie-andthemachine

@muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@kazsrm67

@foxyjwls007

@sassy-pelican

@saiyanprincessswanie

@sojuxxi

@ilovedean-spn2

@lacilou

@agirlwithdemonblood

@rachiem4-blog

@miss-madness67

@iamsapphine

@where-the-river-bends

@globetrotter28

@skybunnybaby

@icequeen1371

@kat-the-hobbit

@leigh70

@callsign-athena

@sammiekay01

@123passwort

94 notes · View notes

axlerica · 9 months

Text

COOKING DINNER ~

-The one where Pedri came home from training and cooked dinner with Y/N-

After a long day of intense training on the football pitch, Pedri returned home to a warm and inviting scene. As he stepped inside, the aroma of baked salmon with roasted potatoes filled the air, making his stomach rumble with anticipation.

There, in the cozy kitchen, stood his girlfriend (Y/N), wearing an apron and swaying gently to the tune of "Daylight" by Taylor Swift playing in the background. Her infectious smile welcomed him, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of joy seeing her so carefree and happy.

Y/N: *smiles and greets him* "Hey, welcome home handsome! How was training?"

Pedri: "It was intense, but great. I missed you, though." *moves closer to Y/N for a hug*

Y/N: *laughs playfully and steps back slightly* "Hold on there, stinky! You need to take a shower first before I let you touch me."

Pedri: *pretends to be offended* "Stinky? Really? I thought you loved my football player scent."

Y/N: *laughs* "I do love you, but I also love fresh-smelling you better. So, off you go to the shower!"

Pedri: *smirks* "Alright, alright, I'll take a quick shower. But you better save some cooking for me!"

Y/N: *playfully rolls her eyes* "Don't worry, I will. Go freshen up, and I'll have everything ready when you're done."

Pedri: "Thanks, cariño . You're the best."

Y/N: *smiles* "I know. Now, go get that stinky scent off you, and come back to a delicious dinner!"

Pedri: *heading towards the bathroom* "Deal! Be ready for the best-cooked meal you've ever tasted!"

Y/N: *laughs* "I can't wait. Now, hurry up!"

Pedri: *winks* "I'll be quick, promise!"

Pedri: *finishes his shower and follows the inviting aroma to the kitchen, where he hears Y/N singing along to Taylor Swift's "Style"*

Pedri: *after a moment, he can't resist joining in and starts singing along with Y/N* "Midnights, you come and pick me up, no headlights~"

Y/N: *surprised and delighted, she smiles at him, their voices blending together* "Long drive, could end in burning flames or paradise~"

Pedri: *softly takes her hand, intertwining their fingers as they continue singing together* "Fade into view, oh, it's been a while since I have even heard from you~"

Y/N: *feeling the warmth of their connection, she leans closer to him* "I should just tell you to leave 'cause I know exactly where it leads, but I watch us go 'round and 'round each time~"

Pedri and Y/N: *their voices intertwine in a heartfelt duet* "You got that James Dean, daydream look in your eye, and I got that red lip classic thing that you like~"

Their voices blend perfectly, creating a mesmerizing harmony that fills the room with warmth and love. As they sing the chorus together, time seems to stand still, and they feel an unbreakable connection between them. The song becomes an expression of their feelings, a testament to the deep bond they share.

Pedri: *looking into Y/N's eyes* "And when we go crashing down, we come back every time, 'cause we never go out of style~"

Y/N: *smiling, her heart swelling with affection* "We never go out of style~"

Pedri and Y/N found themselves drawn to each other, their hearts pounding in sync with the melody of the song still lingering in the air. Without hesitation, they closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down, and everything else faded into the background. Their embrace was gentle yet passionate, as they melted into each other's touch. Soft, warm, and full of love, their lips moved together in perfect harmony, conveying emotions that words could never fully express.

As they kissed, a spark ignited between them, intensifying the connection they already shared. They felt the depth of their love in every brush of their lips, every gentle caress, and every fleeting moment of breathlessness. Their hearts beat as one, and they could feel the electricity of their affection coursing through their bodies.

The world around them ceased to exist, and they were lost in each other – two souls entwined in a dance of love and desire. Their fingers intertwined, holding onto each other as if they never wanted to let go.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Pedri couldn't resist a cute gesture after their intimate kiss. He reached out and gently booped Y/N's nose, making her giggle softly.

Y/N: *laughs* "Oh, you're being adorable now?"

Pedri: *grinning* "I can't help it when you're so cute!"

Y/N: *playfully pouting* "Well, you're cute too."

Pedri: *teasingly* "Oh, you think so? Maybe I'll have to boop your nose more often, then."

Y/N: *smiling* "I wouldn't mind that at all."

As they continued cooking together, the playful atmosphere lingered, and Pedri couldn't resist teasing Y/N, adding a touch of light-hearted banter to their time in the kitchen.

Pedri: “So, are you sure you know what you're doing there?"

Y/N: *laughs* "Of course! I'm an excellent cook."

Pedri: *raising an eyebrow playfully* "Hmm, I seem to recall a certain incident with burnt pancakes last week."

Y/N: *playfully nudges him* "Oh, hush! That was just a small mishap."

Pedri: *feigning concern* "I think I should be the official taste-tester just to make sure."

Y/N: *laughs* "Oh, really? I think I can handle it just fine."

As they bantered back and forth, their laughter filled the kitchen, making the cooking process even more enjoyable. Despite the teasing, they were a perfect team, effortlessly complementing each other's skills.

Pedri: *helping with the ingredients* "You know, it's really nice cooking together like this."

Y/N: “It is. I love spending time with you, whether it's on the pitch or in the kitchen."

Pedri: "Does that mean you want me to be your cooking partner from now on?"

Y/N: "Well, I guess you can stay as long as you promise not to eat all the ingredients before we finish cooking."

Pedri: *laughs* "Deal! But only if you promise to let me taste the food before serving."

Y/N: *laughs* "Deal! It's a cooking partnership then."

After all the cooking and teasing, Pedri and Y/N sat down together at the dining table, ready to enjoy the delicious meal they had prepared with love.

Pedri: *raising his glass* "To a fantastic cooking partnership and an even better meal!"

Y/N: *smiling, clinks her glass with his* "Cheers to us and many more moments like this."

They took a bite of the food, savoring the flavors, and exchanged knowing glances that spoke volumes of their satisfaction with the meal. The happiness in their hearts was palpable, and they felt a sense of contentment just being in each other's company.

Pedri: "I have to admit, this is even better than I imagined."

Y/N: "Told you so! I have some culinary skills up my sleeve."

Pedri: *chuckles* "I'll never doubt your cooking prowess again."

They continued to eat, sharing stories and laughter along the way. Every moment was a reminder of the love they had for each other and the joy they found in each other's presence.

As they finished their meal, Pedri and Y/N moved to the cozy couch, snuggling up together under a soft blanket. They scrolled through their movie collection, searching for the perfect film to watch.

Pedri: *smiling* "How about a romantic comedy? It seems fitting after our lovely dinner."

Y/N: *nods, smiling back* "Sounds perfect to me. I love a good rom-com."

They selected a heartwarming romantic comedy, and as the movie began, they leaned against each other, enjoying the comfort of being close.

As they watched the movie, they shared laughter, inside jokes, and gentle touches, their bond growing stronger with every passing minute. The love they felt for each other was evident in the way they looked at each other, in the way their fingers intertwined, and in the way they found comfort in each other's presence.

During funny moments in the movie, they would burst into laughter together, and during touching scenes, they would exchange affectionate glances, feeling the love and connection between them deepen.

As the night grew late and the coziness of the couch enveloped them, Y/N's eyes began to grow heavy. She nestled her head on Pedri's chest, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Pedri, gently stroked her hair and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Y/N snuggled even closer, sighing contently as she drifted off to sleep.

In that serene moment, Pedri admired the peaceful expression on Y/N's face. He knew he was lucky to have her in his life, and he cherished every moment they shared together. Her presence brought a sense of calm and happiness that he couldn't imagine living without.

With a tender smile, he whispered softly, as if Y/N could hear him in her dreams, "You’re so cute, I love you so much.”

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace and the silence of the night. As Pedri watched Y/N sleeping soundly on his chest, he felt a surge of love and gratitude for the person he had in his arms.

With tender care, Pedri gently lifted Y/N into his arms, cradling her lovingly as he carried her to the bedroom. Her peaceful expression warmed his heart, and he was determined to make sure she had a restful sleep.

Once they reached the bed, he carefully laid her down, making sure she was comfortable. He tucked her in, pulling the soft covers snugly around her, ensuring she felt warm and safe.

Pedri stood by the bedside for a moment, admiring the person he loved so dearly, still smiling at the sight of her peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but plant another soft kiss on her forehead, expressing his love and affection.

"Sleep tight, mi amor," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

In that moment, Pedri knew that he had found his home in Y/N's heart.

Pedri then sleep right next to her. He carefully slipped under the covers, snuggling up to her, and pulled her gently into his embrace.

Feeling the warmth of his body and the softness of his touch, Y/N stirred slightly, as if sensing his presence. She nestled closer to him, finding comfort in his arms, even in her sleep.

Pedri smiled and with his arm around her, Pedri closed his eyes, content and grateful for the love they shared. As they drifted off to sleep together, their breathing synchronized, and their hearts beat as one.

And so, they slept peacefully through the night, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that they were each other's home, and that tomorrow would bring another day of love and happiness together.

140 notes · View notes