I just wanted to draw your attention to something I noticed while looking at 7 million gifs of this scene
This is Dean’s reaction to Cas’ “you’re my family… I love you” He’s full of pain, but is looking away because that what Dean does with his emotions.
This is Dean‘s reaction to “I love ALL of you.”
Just like us, Dean, has heard the distinction, and realised what that means, that Cas loves him in a manner unique to his love for the other Winchesters.
This is the face of a character who canonically just heard a confession of love. That is a “did he just?” face.
This is “you’re my family I love you” moose, with serious sad brows
This is a “why did he just say all of - OOOOOOOOhhhhh.” lightbulb moose (ill admit, its more distinctive on film than still image)
Let the record show that on episode 12.12, at 31:24, both Winchesters had canonically realised that Cas loves Dean - not as a snarky joke from an enemy, not a awkward misunderstanding of human personal space, not just friends - but real love.
Warnings: None. Just fluffiness
Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Sister Winchester Reader
Summary: You keep taking Sam’s stuff
Reader’s Age: Any
Word Count: 588(like I said it’s a drabble)
Y/N: Your Name
A/N: Wrote half of this awhile ago when I still had my laptop and I finished it a few days ago and boom here it is! Also figured y'all needed something nice and fluffy after the last imagine… Heh… Enjoy!
“Dean, have you seen my laptop?” Sam asked his brother, looking frantically around the library.
“No. Did you lose it?”
Sam gave Dean the classic Winchester bitch-face. “If I hadn’t lost it, I wouldn’t be asking you,” Sam snarked.
“Well looks like you also just lost my help,” Dean picked up his book and walked off.
Sam’s alarm clock blared in his room and startled him awake. He rolled over with a groan and shut it off. Sighing, he got up and dragged his feet, heavy with sleep, over to his dresser. Sam opened a drawer, realizing he only had two flannels left. With a confused look, Sam took one of the two flannels left and came to the conclusion that simply no one’s done the laundry in awhile.
Sam had a shower, got dressed and made his way to the library.
“Is Y/N up yet?” Sam asked once he saw Dean scrolling on his laptop, feet up on the table and leaning back in a chair.
“Not that I know of,” Dean answered, noticing Sam’s flannel. “Didn’t you wear that a few days ago?”
“I thought so too…” Sam looked down at his clothes, “All my shirts and flannels are disappearing. Has anyone done the laundry?”
“Yeah. Y/N did it yesterday,” Dean told Sam, fianlly getting into this odd mystery.
“Maybe she hasn’t brought my clothes to my room yet.” Sam said just above a whisper, but with the quiet that the Bunker always had, Dean heard.
“Dean!” Sam yelled from down the hall, peeking his head out of his bedroom door.
“What?!” Dean yelled back, not bothering to get up from his comfy spot in a chair.
“Did you take one of my books?” Sam yelled back, walking around the corner into the kitchen.
Dean called back, “Dude, I haven’t taken any of your stuff.”
Sam’s thoughts were interrupted as he saw you waltz into the kitchen. His eyes instantly went to the flannel you were wearing, not just any flannel, his flannel.
Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N?” You turned around, giving him a silent cue to continue. “Is that my flannel?” He pointed to the giant red plaid flannel you were wearing. You looked down at it and fiddled with the soft, long sleeves.
“Uhmmm… no?” you answered, avoiding Sam’s eyes in hopes he won’t make you give them back.
“Are you the one stealing my stuff?” Sam couldn’t help the grin that wormed it’s way in.
“Okay,” you huffed in defeat. “I usually just take like one or two of your flannels, but then I kept losing them so I kept taking more…”
Sam gave you a straight and unreadable face, making you crack like an egg. “They’re comfy!” you defended, waving your hands around and the long sleeves flew around, nearly hitting a pan.
“I want my flannels back, and all the other stuff you took from me,” Sam chuckled, “but… you can keep one.”
“Fine…” You pouted, shuffling back to your room to find all the hidden flannels you stole. Dean started laughing as he watched the mystery unfold.
“I don’t get why she goes after my things,” Sam chuckled.
“As long as she doesn’t take my stuff…” Dean snarked, earning an eye roll from Sam. “Y'know… Some of my blankets have been going missing- Y/N!!” Dean yelled, racing out of the kitchen after you as he heard Sam burst out laughing.
I hope y'all like this one! I’m open for tips on improving!
“Y/n? Honey, are you ok? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Sam asks, voice full of concern as slowly opens up my door. He tries to find the light, but I stop him before he can reach it.
“Please, don’t turn on the light” I croak, Sam made his way over to me and sat beside me on the bed. His fingers carded through my long hair, as he waited for me to respond.
“Sammy.” Was all I could let out before my walls came crashing down and the tears started pouring down my checks. Sam kicked off his boots, threw his jacket on my chair, and got under the covers with me. His big, strong arms wrapped around me like a fortress. Cradling me from the outside world.
“It’s ok, Y/n. I’m here. Sammy’s here.” He cooed to me soothingly. He tried comforting me by shushing me and rubbing my back. I about told him everything until I saw a figure pass by in the dim lighted hallway. I raised up to see who was there, and Dean’s piercing green eyes met mine. He saw the broken on my face and it caught his attention. He strolled into my room and laid on the other side of my bed beside me.
“You ok, Baby girl?” Worry crept upon his face. I squeezed his hand tightly, almost as if I was afraid he was going to leave. The tears still weren’t letting up.
“Ayden broke up with me today.” I choked back a sob and hid my face in Sam’s chest. The boys sighed sadly and try to comfort me.
“I know that we haven’t dated for too long, but I really liked him. He was like my best friend outside of you guys and Cas. He was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to, someone who I could be myself with, someone who I felt like actually cared about me, and my feelings.” I explained, as I tried to wipe away the tears.
“I can’t believe he cheated on me with other girls. I thought he loved me, De. Why would he do this to me? I thought he was happy. Am I not enough? He lied to me about everything! He said he loved me, but he didn’t! Not like the way I loved him” I bawled, letting all my emotions out.
“Hey, you look at me.” Dean said sternly.
“You don’t ever, and I mean EVER think that you’re not enough! You got it?” I glanced at Dean and nodded. Trying to be strong. Sam took my face into his hands and met my eyes.
“You’re are enough, Y/n. He was a jerk, and one day you will find the right guy. I promise. Ayden, doesn’t realize how special you are. Don’t let his actions make you feel less. That’s a reflection of him, not you. I know it seems awful right now, but in a couple years you will have forgotten all about him. You’re beautiful, funny, smart, caring, lovable, a kick ass hunter, and you’re Y/n Fucking Winchester! Things will get better, they always do. If they don’t, you know Dean and I always have your back. We will always be here to pick you up when you feel like you can’t go on.” Sam said giving me a small, endearing smile.
“Thanks you guys. I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you, both. The same goes for you guys, too. I’m always here for you boys. We’re family.” I took both of their hands in mine, and at the same time they kissed the top of my forehead. Before I knew it, Cas appeared in my room with a big bag of gummi bears, and a solemn look on his face.
“Hello Y/n, I heard that you were upset and I know gummi bears are your favorite. I thought this might cheer you up.” He trudge over to the bed and handed it to me. I gave him a smile and thanked him.
“I will get through this breakup, because I already have the best guys I could ask for.”
After awhile, we all went out to the living room to watch the movie called “Why Him?”. I’ve saw it already, but the boys haven’t so I offered to rewatch it. About halfway through it I fell asleep, and when I woke up the boys were nowhere in sight.
“Sam? Dean? Cas?” I looked around the bunker to see if there was any sign of them, but I had no luck. On my way back to the living room, I went through the library and saw a note lying on the table from Sam.
Dean, Cas, and I will be back later. We had to pay someone a visit. Love, Sam.
I rolled my eyes and went back to lie down on the couch. Waiting to hear about how much fun the boys had kicking my ex boyfriend’s ass. I fell back asleep with a grin on my face.
Warnings: The reader is injured, stitches, mentions of a body, blood, some swearing.
Summary: The Reader comes home from the hunt injured and Dean stitches her up.
Author’s Note: Woohoo, part three! I’m still blown away by all the lovely comments you guys are leaving about this series, I’m so happy you’re enjoying it! And before you read this please remember that there’s still one more part (that might be out this weekend?) before you freak out *slips ominously into the shadows*
Please send me an Ask or add yourself to This List if you want to be tagged in the final part of this!
If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out myMasterlist!
*I made the gif from a YouTube video, sorry if it sucks!*
Eventually you did get up, leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed – and Dean – and dragging two grumpy Winchesters out the door, resigning them to your same chilly fate. You made sure to be dressed and ready to go before Sam woke up, not wanting him to get any premature ideas about something going on between you and his brother - not when you didn’t even know if there was anything to get ideas about. You didn’t even know if you wanted there to be.
You still held strong in your belief that getting involved with a hunter was a bad idea, that it would only end in heartbreak for both involved. But despite that, despite the fact that you’d consoled friends more times than you could count after the loss a loved one on a hunt gone wrong, you couldn’t shake your feelings for Dean. Couldn’t shake the idea that he might feel the same way.
And if he did, didn’t you owe it to yourself to try?
At any rate, you had more pressing issues at the moment – like, for example, the four long, bleeding gashes running down your leg.
A story of Cas and Dean and meeting in barns. (Also my very belated 12x23 coda).
Castiel stands outside a barn.
If asked, he could recite the exact latitude and longitude
of where he stands. He could break every sigil etched on the walls inside. He
could snap his fingers and watch the building fall down before him.
He does none of that. He simply begins to walk.
His landing wasn’t perfect; his vessel still feels… off.
The barn door slams inward without his giving much thought to it, the lights
crackle and burst around him without his notice. He’s only looking at the man
at the end, the one with the raised gun in his hands and the raised handprint
on his shoulder, hidden just beneath his t-shirt.
Dean Winchester shoots him in the chest, and Castiel feels
Dean Winchester stabs him through his vessel’s heart, and he
simply pulls away the blade, dropping it on the ground.
“Who are you?” Dean asks, and Castiel detects the note of
fear there. He doesn’t care if this man is afraid. He answers with his name.
Dean asks what he is, and he tells the truth, because what else is there to
say? Isn’t it obvious?
“I’m an angel of the Lord.”
“Get the hell out of here,” Dean says. “There’s no such
He’s put off somewhat by Dean’s disbelief, by his combative
nature. This is a man rescued from the Pit on the orders of Heaven. He should
be filled with faith, brimming to overflowing with gratitude to God above and
the angel before him.
Castiel begins to think the “Yeah, thanks for that” which
preceded the stabbing was not sincere.
“Don’t give me the Face,” Mary says. And the more I watch gifsets of this interaction, the more angry I get with Mary for saying that. Why? Because we as fans know what this Face means. We can see every unspoken emotion that Dean lays out here, and it seems like it goes over Mary’s head. (A discussion of this expression below the cut.)