destiel, 3k, jealous!cas, light dean/lisa, pining and angst with a happy resolution
Castiel is about to
fit his key into his apartment door when he hears the voices: Dean’s gruff baritone mixed with a lilting melodic voice.
Castiel rests his
forehead against the door, shopping bags in his hands lightly hitting the pale
wood. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself not to be upset that it’s the
sixth day of the week that Lisa has been at their apartment.
He tries not to be
bothered that for the last month Dean has been utterly obsessed with this girl:
from late night phone calls to taking her to romantic dinners softened by
Cas tries to ignore the fact that he’s inexplicably jealous of Lisa.
inspired by a post sara reblogged (this one, specifically) and the resulting conversation about different love spells, where she suggested i write the fic. i said no, go away, it’s late. then i stayed up and wrote the fic.
This doesn’t make any sense.
Though they’d never admit it—Dean especially would never admit it—they’re practically witches themselves at this point. Sam isn’t deluded enough to think otherwise. He has a fair share of spells up his sleeve that he knows by heart by now, a few more he’s working on remembering, and some he still struggles with the incantation, but at the end of the day they frequently speak Latin and throw herbs into flames, so, logically, they’re witches, or close enough to it.
And it’s because of this (and his own unfortunate experience that no one must ever speak of again, thanks) that Sam knows a love spell when he sees one.
You Understand, Right? (Part 5): And Broken Hearts
Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader
Length: 1665+ words
TW: Nothing in this chapter!
A/N: I’ve been considering writing a sister chapter to this one in Y/N’s perspective, but I’m not sure if I have time. Plus, you guys are getting so many fics from me this month lol… We’ll see. I’m pretty swamped with other stuff so I make no promises… Hahaha get it?… Yea, I’m lame.
Dean didn’t follow her, too shocked at her words. He sat down on the edge of his bed thinking about what in the world would make her say such things. He just stared at the floor of his room. Her words ringing inside his brain as he tried to make sense of it. Of everything.
“I understand, Dean.”
“You and Sam need each other… But you don’t need me.”
“I’ve lost count of the promises you’ve broken.”
“What the hell?” he mumbled, massaging his temple. “What is she talking about?”
Dean remembered making only two promises to her in his lifetime. He promised to take care of her, and be there for her. This was the promise he made with everyone he ever cared about. Anyone who knew Dean knew that he would always be there for them when they needed help.
He knew from a young age not to make promises he couldn’t make. John lectured him for hours after he once promised a kid that they would save his mom. They lost the mom to the werewolf. His dad was livid- not only because they lost another life, but because he had given this kid hope. Ever since then, Dean didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. And he was sure that Y/N knew he would never break a promise if he could help it. Not that she’s ever asked him to make any promises. There were only two cases where she had asked him to promise her something.
“Dean, look! I got a part in the play!” Y/N said excitedly, showing him the piece of paper with her name on it.
“Yea?” He peered over, flashing her a proud grin. “Good job, squirt!”
“You’re gonna come see it, right?”
“Of course!” He ruffled her hair before going back to his homework.
“Promise,” he said, not even looking up from his math problem.
Dean swallowed thickly as he realized that he didn’t show up to her play, choosing to attend Sam’s spelling bee instead.
After the 13x02 sneak peek. Inspired by one of the amazing 13x01 codas I read, but I can’t remember which one!
“Okay. Alright. Would you stop?!”
Jack is, once again, confused. Big fucking surprise.
“I… don’t understand,” he says, squinting. Dean almost can’t look at him when he does that. Swallowing thickly, he takes a huge bite of his burger, ignoring Sam’s quiet noise of disgust as he does. Seriously, fuck him. Fuck everything.
“My father—Castiel, my real, true father, he said you were a good man. He spoke to my mother of you often.”
Dean feels like all the air has left the room.
“Jack…” he hears Sam say, softly. Carefully. What’s left of Dean’s heart throbs with that dull, aching pain that never seems to quit in response. He doesn’t want pity.
“I ain’t a good role model, okay?” Dean says gruffly. He takes a swig of beer. Jack is still.
“Castiel thought you were.”
Dean laughs so he doesn’t cry. It’s an empty, ugly sound, and it seems only to confuse Jack further. Scooting closer on the couch, the nephilim leans in like a better view of Dean’s breaking heart will afford him a complete understanding of the situation.
“Castiel loved you greatly,” he says, like he’s trying to figure it all out. “He would have followed you anywhere. And, in fact, he did. I was inside him. I know you went to purgatory together. I know he loved you, but… in a different way than he loved my mother. What he felt for her was superficial—nothing at all, compared to what he felt for you.”
Dean buries his face in his hands. He feels like a circus side show. He feels like throwing his beer bottle across the room.
“I don’t understand,” Jack says again. “My mother said Castiel would take care of me. That he would teach me. But he’s not here… and he learned everything from you. If my mother loved me with a certain depth that resembles what Castiel felt for you, does that not make you the perfect model of humanity?”
And that’s it. Dean can’t stay here anymore. Not when this kid is supposed to be the enemy. Not when he keeps talking about Cas. Not when Sam is looking at him like all he can see what’s happening and is sorry for it. Dean stands, spilling food onto the floor, and carelessly bumping his leg on the coffee table as he rushes out the door.
A Winchester’s Legacy - Dean Winchester x Reader - Part 1
Title: A Winchester’s Legacy
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 4,072
Warnings: Character death (not main ones)
Summary: You’ve known the Winchesters all your life, yet when the father of your child dies you never thought they would take you in the bunker with them. Nor would you ever think the love you’d feel again for the older Winchester as he becomes a father for your baby. Who would ever think he has just the same wish: A family with you.
A/N: Daddy Dean is literally the best thing on this world!
Hunting and love just didn’t go together. It was not a rule per say but everybody in this line of work knew that if a hunter allowed themselves to fall for someone, sooner or later, both their lives would be damned. And you knew it yourself, from the first moment you decided to do this, yet somehow you found yourself falling head over heels for him.
Settling wasn’t his thing, and with this kind of job that the both of you had, you weren’t made for that either. You never called it a relationship, although you really wished you could, and even if life – and again the job – had you drifting apart, you’d always find your way back to each other. Whether it was the bar, the police station, a crime scene caused by some angry werewolf, the end result was one. You’d always end up a tangled mess of limbs and bed sheets in his motel room just savoring each other, trying to take in as much as you could before the morning came and you had to drift apart again. Waiting to see each other again, promising to with every lingering touch and kiss.
Until that promise was broken. And as if your world hadn’t already crumbled down when you saw his body in autopsy, as if you didn’t already have enough drinks to kill yourself from the alcohol in your system, as if hunting every demon to get to the one that took him away from you wasn’t enough… there was still one more thing coming.
Oh and if love and hunting didn’t go together just wait until you tried kids and hunting. Speaking of which-
“He seems to like my trenchcoat.” Castiel’s voice along with your son’s squeal caught your attention and you were brought back to reality.
John Winchester and Child Neglect: A Comprehensive Study.
It’s been a somewhat divisive subject within the fandom as to what kind of a parent John Winchester was. Frequently, I see posts pop up on my dash defending John, claiming that he loved his sons and did the best he could under the circumstances. Others claim John was blatantly abusive.
Well, I think it’s pertinent to lay the matter to rest once and for all: he undeniably was.
And we needn’t look to subtext for signs of physical abuse, either (though as many others have pointed out, there is plenty there): child neglect is the most common form of child abuse, and it is textually evident throughout the series.
The NSPCC defines the basic needs of children as follows, all of which John gratuitously neglected:
1. Basic physical care.
The NSPCC maintains that children should be provided with “warmth, shelter, adequate food and rest, grooming (hygiene) and protection from danger.”
Whether or not the various motel rooms they frequented could be equated to proper shelter, John routinely left his sons without enough food to share between them:
Young Dean is shown giving his portion of cereal up for baby Sam, and is later shown to have been forced to resort to stealing in order to feed him.
Even in his adulthood, when asked if he had ever been “really hungry. Like, not eaten for days hungry,” Dean emphatically replies that he had.
The signs of hygienic neglect are slightly more subtle, but also present: after spending the summer without Dean, for example, young Sam is shown in clothes that are obviously too big and unbuttoned at the sleeves.
And as for “protection from danger?” Well, unless you count giving your small children loaded firearms, sufficed to say it was nonexistent.
As the NSPCC puts it, healthy affection “includes physical contact, holding, stroking, cuddling and kissing, comforting, admiration, delight, tenderness, patience, time, making allowances for annoying behaviour, and general companionship and approval.”
Obviously, there was a point at which John would have provided his sons with adequate physical affection, but after Mary’s death it appears to be basically nonexistent.
He is shown to criticize Dean fairly consistently (”I wouldn’t have given you that car if I thought you were going to ruin it”), was unreasonably harsh in response to his childhood shortcomings (e.g. failing to protect Sam from a monster when he was ten), and “leaving him to rot” for the summer at a boy’s home for stealing food at the age of sixteen.
According to the NSPCC, security constitutes as “continuity of care, the expectation of continuing in the stable family unit, a predictable environment, consistent patterns of care and daily routine, simple rules and consistent controls and a harmonious family group.”
John constantly moved his children from one motel to another for the duration of their childhood. This prevented his children from formulating any lasting friendships with people their age, the effects of which are most evident in “After School Special:” Sam is left feeling like “a freak” in comparison to his peers, whereas Dean has already carefully developed his hypermasculine public image.
Moreover, John is predominantly absent in their lives, routinely missing holidays and disappearing for days on end. Hardly a stable parental figure for the boys to fall back on.
4. Stimulation and innate potential:
The NSPCC defines this as “praise and encouragement; curiosity and exploratory behavior. By developing skills though responsiveness to questions and to play, by promoting educational opportunities.”
Even disregarding John’s blatant discouragement of Sam’s pursuit of higher education, this is most evident in the characteristics of the boys themselves:
Sam is ambitious, motivated, self-disciplined, and academic. He prides himself on his ability to succeed in scholastic environments and conduct research, which got him a free ride to an ivy league university at the start of the series.
These are all characteristics typical of a firstborn child, whereas Dean’s laid-back persona is more typical of a second or third born.
As others have pointed out, this is because Sam WAS a first born child…to Dean.
The reason first-borns are typically such high achievers is because their parents treat each success as a momentous occasion, whereas their successors typically garner less attention. Dean was never praised for his accomplishment by John, whereas Dean provides Sam with a surprising amount of support and encouragement.
Even John’s journal takes note of this, stating that when Sam took his first steps, he immediately went to Dean.
5. Guidance and control.
“To teach adequate social behaviour which includes discipline within the child’s understanding and capacity and which requires patience and a model for the child to copy, for example in honesty and concern and kindness for others.”
John taught Dean how to perform various illegal activities, including credit card fraud and hustling pool.
This makes it doubly ironic that he reacted so violently to Dean stealing food or getting drunk as a teenager, considering he didn’t exactly set the best standard for upstanding citizenship. Maybe he was just upset he got caught?
“For small things at first such as self-care, tidying playthings or taking dishes to the kitchen and gradually elaborating the decision making that the child has to learn in order to function adequately, gaining experience through his/her mistakes as well as his/her stresses and receiving praise and encouragement to strive to do better.”
This one is a little different, considering John arguably entrusted too much responsibility to children his sons’ age. Nevertheless, the fact remains that he gave almost no encouragement to the boys for performing these tasks, leading Dean to realize John was possessed when he told him he was proud of him.
“To make his/her own decisions first about small things but increasingly about the various aspects of his/her own life within the confines of the family and society’s codes. Parents use fine judgement in encouraging independence and in letting the child see and feel the outcome of his or her own capacity. Protection is needed, but over-protection is as bad as responsibility and independence too early.”
John militaristically handles his sons, expecting them to be basically subservient to him and to obey his orders at all costs. He forcibly cut Sam out of his life when he chose to become independent in his adulthood, electing to attend college instead of continue hunting.
Moreover, Sam is visibly surprised that John let Dean go hunting alone at the age of twenty-six.
In conclusion, the reason I find John Winchester defendists so irksome is not that they demonstrate any real ill will, but that they demonstrate society’s fundamental understanding of what abuse looks like and the forms that it can take.
Moreover, they demonstrate the popular misconception that because someone is well-intentioned, likable, or even sympathetic under some circumstances, that they cannot be abusive.
I’m not saying John wasn’t worthy of pity. I’m not saying he wasn’t without redeeming qualities. I’m not even saying he didn’t love his sons.
I’m saying that he was, by definition, canonically abusive. And we, as a fandom, need to acknowledge this fact once and for all.
Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader
Length: 2129+ words [I didn’t think it was this long tbh…]
TW: Nothing in this chapter!
A/N: Do you guys remember that video of the dad who calmed their crying baby by sleeping in their crib, and they tried leaving, but their kid wasn’t having any of it? Well… this was very much inspired by that video! And of course, because it’s me, I had to put a bit of angst here and there- moreso in the next part!
Dean groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. Not only did the witch get away, but she left some annoying consequences for the brothers to deal with. Their youngest sister sat on the floor. Her would be adult body was now a toddler- not even a toddler, a baby. The witch had freaking turned his baby sister into a baby. She tilted her head to the side, looking up at her older brother, hazel eyes wide with confusion.
“Dean! Where’s-” Sam stopped in his track just behind his older brother, looking down at the baby in front of them. “Is that-”
“Yea.” Dean threw his arms up in frustration, stomping away. “Damn it!”
Y/N watched her older brother for a few seconds, her bottom lip quivering. Soon enough, a wail erupted from her small figure. Fear and confusion bubbling inside of her.
“Damn it, Dean,” Sam cursed under his breath. “You scared her.” The youngest brother picked his sister up, adjusting her clothes that are now too big on her, and placing her against his side. “Hey, now. You’re okay.” He gently bounced her while cooing.
“C’mon. Let’s just get back to the bunker,” Dean said roughly, walking back to the Impala without a second glance to his younger siblings.
A/N: I’m actually super proud of this! Thanks to my grammar nazi and my poetic friend @idreamofhazel
A kiss is the most powerful thing a man can say. When Dean kisses you, he kisses you with such passion and fervor, like he can’t get enough out of you, like you’re going to slip away at any moment. Each kiss tells you something different. That’s the thing about Dean, he has an appreciation for a woman’s body like no other man you have met before.
When he first kissed you, it was by surprise. You had no idea Dean was even remotely attracted to you. You had been hunting with him and Sam for years and the man never once made a pass at you. But when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind that Dean Winchester loved you. The kiss wasn’t just a sign of attraction, it was a proclamation of his love. The kiss was full of confidence; confidence that you were the one for him, that you would fill the hole inside his heart. It only took one kiss for you both to know that was it, that was your last first kiss.
In the morning, his kisses are lazy, peppered all over your face, like he has all the time in the world. He kisses any exposed skin, your shoulder, your neck, your thighs. It’s as if he spent too much time away from you, even if he dreamt of you all night. He kisses you until your eyes open and you turn towards him to capture his lips with yours.
Here it was. Tape 3. Ready in the tape player, but Dean just couldn’t bring himself to listen to it… At least not yet.
There were more things that you left behind that he had thought. First of all there were these tapes and how he found out that you left Sam a note. He wasn’t sure when to start reading it, maybe even just looking at your handwriting would have been too heartbreaking for him to see. Even just holding that paper in his hand and knowing that you once held it in your hand was enough to almost make Dean cry. How could he possibly handle reading the letter? The tapes were killing him already, adding more to that would have been too much for him to take in.
He took the tape player with him. It was inside his duffel bag that he had packed ready for the hunt Sam had found them. “You ready to go?” Sam questioned from the passenger seat in the impala.
Dean had been daydreaming this entire time just thinking about the tapes. “Yeah.”
The drive to Tulsa was around 4 to 5 hours long, a car journey that would probably require talking to each other. Dean wasn’t mad at Sam, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to his brother but everything just felt too tense and awkward after talking about the tapes so much already.
“So, what did you say this hunt was?” Dean questioned after they had been driving for over an hour.
“Well-” Sam started as he pulled out the newspaper from his duffel bag, “-it seems to me like a demon case, but I could be wrong. There’s nothing on here about sulphur so it could be case of ghost possession. But I could be wrong, we’ll see when we get there.“
Dean listened to what Sam said but the words went through one ear and out of the other. He didn’t care about this damn hunt, his mind was on the tapes and he couldn’t stop thinking about them.
“How far are you?” Sam asked. The subject always had to be the tapes, didn’t it?
“Why does it matter? I’m the last one on the tape anyway so I don’t have to pass them on,” Dean replied, keeping his eyes on the road to avoid having to see the judgemental look from his brother.
“Because once you’ve heard them all we can do something about a few of the people on them,” Sam answered as if it was obvious. “Who’s are you up to? Are you on yours?”
“No I’m not on mine!” Dean hissed. He concentrated on the road hard to make sure he looked like he was only focused on driving.
“Then who’s? Have you heard Cas’ tape yet?” Sam questioned which caused Dean to press his foot harshly on the breaks.
“Cas is on the tapes?” He shouted angrily as his look shot to his brother. “Are you fucking kidding me?”’
“Dean, calm-” Sam started to speak but was quickly cut off by Dean’s rage.
“Sammy, I swear if you tell me to calm down.” He shook his head with closed eyes. His voice was steady but angry which was even scarier than when he screamed at Sam.
“Look, I’m sorry, OK?” Sam apologised. “I thought maybe you had listened to a few more.”
“Which tape is Cas’?” Dean asked with his car still pulled over in the middle of an empty highway.
“Ten?” Dean repeated with a loud voice. “I’m not that far! Why are these tapes so easy for everyone else to listen to? I haven’t even started tape three yet!”
“You’re going slower that everyone else, but it’s only because you care about her,“ Sam concluded.
“What, Cas didn’t?” Dean shot back before starting up the car again. He drove slower this time, he didn’t wanna pull over again when driving so fast.
“Of course he did. He still does, but not many people on the tapes did. Only a few of you cared,” Sam explained. “People like you, and Cas. But then there’s Crowley.”
“Crowley’s a dead man,” Dean snapped. “I mean it, when I see him next I’m gonna torture him for months and then drive Ruby’s knife into his heart so hard that not even Hell will be able to save him from what’s coming.”
“Crowley isn’t the only one you’re going to hate after listening to them,” Sam admitted with a quiet voice. “I know that you’re angry at dad.”
“Angry at him, yes,” Dean repeated, “hate him? No.”
“Look, we know everyone on these tapes and we care about most of them,” Sam explained. “It’s gonna be hard to hear them, because they will change the way you see people. Especially this one.“
“Especially this one? What the hell does that mean?!” Dean demanded.
“I told you, you just have to listen to the-”
“Wait a second,” Dean said, coming to a sudden realisation. “Are these tapes the reason you’re all avoiding going to Jody’s?”
Sam swallowed thickly. He had already said too much by saying that Cas was on the tapes.
“Is Jody on the tapes?!” Dean demanded. “Or… Is it Claire? Or Alex?”
“You need to stop asking questions, listen to the tapes,” Sam finished. No matter what was said now Sam would have ignored him so Dean just didn’t bother to reply.
His thoughts for the rest of the drive were on Jody. It couldn’t be her on the tapes, it must have been Claire or Alex. Maybe it was Claire and Alex… You always did have a bumpy relationship with the two girls. Dean always guessed it was because you were all the same age, but maybe there was more to the story.
Before Dean knew it, they had arrived at the motel and checked in. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing but it was such a natural occurrence it didn’t take much thought.
Once they were checked in they went to the house where the victim had died to ask his wife a few questions. They knocked at the door and were greeted by a woman with tears still streaming down her face.
“I’m Agent Stills, this is Agent Collins,” Sam spoke professionally. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course,” she sniffled as she invited them in.
They sat on the couch opposite her and began to ask the usual questions. The funny smells, cold spots, strange noises and all that. She did say it felt a little chilly when she arrived home. She was at the hospital that day having another pregnancy scan because she was over the due date.
Sam and Dean thought how heartbreaking that must have been for her, having her husband die just before she had their baby.
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam Finished. He passed her his card and told her to call if she had anything else to tell them. Once they were done talking to the wife of the victim, they headed back to the motel.
Dean sat on his bed with his duffel bag on Sam’s bed. He just stared at it knowing that those damn tapes were inside there, ready to be listened to. Sam sat at the table on his laptop doing research for the case. “Dean,” he said, but Dean didn’t answer.
“Hey!” Sam repeated as he threw a screwed up piece of newspaper at his brother. “What are you thinking about?”
“What do you think?” Dean replied without moving his eyes away from the bag.
Sam sighed, “I’m gonna swing by the diner, wanna come with?”
“I think I’ll stay here,” Dean snapped. Once again, his eyes never left the bag. Sam said something before leaving but Dean ignored him just like he had been for most of the day. He couldn’t be bothered to listen to what he had to say, all that mattered was the tapes.
And he repeated it once again, just like a mantra. Pick up the tapes, but the headset on, press play. Your cold voice spoke through the headphones and into Dean’s ears.
“I never realised how much a persons life could be affected just by the opinion of another,” you said to start off the tape. “Sure, there’s that saying that ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’, but seriously… Words tear our brains apart. Broken bones are just a physical pain that can pass, but our emotions and the way people make us feel stays with us forever.”
* * *
Three days had passed since your mother had died and you hadn’t even seen John or Mary. After you left they took off on the hunt you were looking at in the newspaper and left Sam and Dean behind which meant only they showed up when you called.
When they took you back to the bunker you started to question things in your mind. Dean was 38 and Sam was 34, they were old enough to look after you, so why did they have to live with John? Why couldn’t they kick John and Mary out of the bunker? You knew they were so excited because your dad was back and their mom was back too- but were they really needed?
John and Mary were planning on coming back to the bunker again, still unaware that you had returned. Sam and Dean had no idea how to tell them what had happened so they just waited for them to return.
Your brothers were always so kind to you. As soon as you returned to the bunker they made sure you were ok, they took you to your room to make sure you got some sleep and enough food and water when you woke up. And as annoying as it got, they constantly explained to you how hard this life was and how hard things can be, and that if you really wanted to they could send you to live with a woman they knew called Jody. She had two other girls staying with her, Claire and Alex, and she set them both up at school.
Their offers were kind, they didn’t care about what they wanted, they just wanted you to be happy.
It was around 4pm when John and Mary came home to the bunker. You sat in the library and impatiently waited for them to notice you. You were worried to say the least, the last time you saw John things got really bad. His words hurt you, they would stay with you until the day you died.
* * *
“Hey,” Sam said as he walked through the door with a takeout burger in a box for Dean. “I got you some food.”
Dean paused the tape to listen to his brother. He took it back off again, it was still so hard to listen to.
Sam threw the box to Dean, sat at the table and opened up his laptop. “I’m gonna do some research on the case and this town, can you check out some lore?“
“Sure,” Dean nodded before pulling an old book out to see if any of the descriptions matched the deaths of the victims that had lived in that house over the years. They all died exactly the same way so there must have been some kind of explanation. He ate his burger within minutes, just like he always did. Everything felt like such a rush unless it was hunting.
Hours and hours had passed before they finally came to the conclusion that it was a Pontianak. It was some kind of ghost that died when they were pregnant and went after men with pregnant wives.
The case was all a bit strange, but nonetheless, it was a case. People were dying and it was their job to save them.
Thinking that way broke Dean’s heart because there was only one persons life that he wanted to save… But it was too late for that.
* * *
John and Mary looked at you as they passed Sam and Dean. “Y/N?” John asked. He didn’t seem angry, but not exactly happy either.
“We didn’t want to worry you while you and mom were hunting,” Dean began to explain. “But something bad happened… Y/N’s mom was murdered.”
“What?” Mary gasped. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
Mary spoke softly to you as she took a seat next to you and rested her hand on your shoulder. “What happened? Did you see anything?”
“No,” you lied with a shake of your head. “She just, I got home and she was dead. The demon attacked me but I didn’t get a good look, it all happened so fast.”
“So, are you moving back here?” John asked.
“I know you don’t want me here,” you looked down. “After what you said-”
“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I’m sorry that I sent you away,” he apologised. It wasn’t enough that he was sorry for sending you away; you knew that he didn’t love you the same amount that he loved Sam and Dean and that telling you to leave didn’t affect him.
“Sam suggested me going to live with Jody,” you replied as you wiped your tear away quickly. He already thought you weren’t as strong as the rest of them, but you couldn’t show weakness, even if it was one of the hardest moments you ever had to go through.
“I think that’s a great idea,” John agreed. Now you were sure that he meant what he said when he told you to leave. He just wanted to be kind to you right now because you were in pain. For a second, you thought that maybe he was sending you away to protect you, but the thought was quickly pushed to the side when you remembered how angry he was towards you when he kicked you out of the motel.
“Oh, I don’t know if I want to,” you admitted. “I mean, I want to stop the world from having to deal with deaths because of monsters. I know I can never get mine back but I could stop people from losing their mothers and that’s enough for me. I want to continue hunting,” you spoke with a strong voice as you stood from your chair. “You’re all good hunters, you can teach me.”
Dean smiled. He loved seeing this side of you, you took charge and told them what was happening. No more crap about, ‘maybe next time’ or ‘you need a different life’. If you wanted a different life you would have taken it but this was your decision. Not John’s or Mary’s or Sam’s or Dean’s. It was time for you to make your own decisions.
* * *
Sam and Dean decided to check the house out at night. The woman had gone into hospital to give birth and the boys wanted to go back to the house and kill the Pontianak. They figured the house being empty would be a good opportunity to get the job done.
Dean went inside first, his flashlight stopped working the second he set foot in the living room. From their research they knew who the Pontianak was, they just didn’t know where she was buried. The Pontianak was once a woman called Jane White that lived in the house hundreds of years ago. They figured there would be something that would tell them where she was buried.
* * *
A few months had passed since you moved back into the bunker and things were going well. John seemed to adapt to you being around and although you still knew he didn’t like you, it was something you had to move past.
You sometimes had those moments where you would share a father/daughter bond, and in those times you felt happy. But afterwards you would just remember what it was really like and that you just had to keep a work relationship.
The boys were still the boys. Very loving and very protective, but you could also mess around, laugh and actually have some kind of relationship with them. There were a few snappy moments here and there but apart from that things were fine. They were going great.
But as soon as things got better, they got worse once again.
* * *
Sam checked down in the basement for clues while Dean stayed in the living room and waited for her to show. He put salt on all the windows and doors.
He felt a sudden chill as she appeared in the living room
“Dean,” Sam shouted up the stairs. “She’s buried in the basement, I just have to break through this wall.”
“Hurry, Sammy,” Dean replied as he picked up his gun and shot the Pontianak with rock salt.
The hunt was fairly simple. Sam burned the body, the spirit was gone and no one else had to die. The next day they packed up their things, got in the impala and drove off back home to the bunker.
The hunt wasn’t enough for Dean. He really wanted something he could stab, shoot, fight or punch. Dean needed to let go of all his rage and hunting seemed like the only way… He needed something bigger than this.
Sam was still tired on the way home and ended up falling asleep, so Dean continued with the tape while he was driving.
* * *
It was around 9AM on a Monday morning when you came into the bunker kitchen. You heard yelling on your way down and wondered what the hell was going on. No one had argued for a while, maybe it was just something that needed to happen.
“She has to go!” You heard John shout. You felt a twinge of panic in your stomach as he spoke, you really thought things between you and John were getting better.
“I thought you were past this, dad!” Sam yelled. “Christ, what is your problem?”
“Your mom doesn’t want her here either. It makes her uncomfortable to know that Y/N’s my child but not hers,” John revealed.
* * *
“Welcome to your tape, Mary.”
Dean, once again, was shocked by what he had heard on this tape. Mary was involved? She was uncomfortable with you living with them? Dean always thought that Mary loved you like the daughter she never had. He always thought that, to her, you were one of the Winchesters. That was another misjudgment he had made about his family. Where do their loyalties lie? Can he really trust them?
* * *
You didn’t want to hear anymore, so you stepped into the kitchen. Sam’s eyes shot to you and John followed. “Y/N…” John spoke.
“Thank you for being honest,” you simply replied. “I’m glad I know where we stand. John.”
“Wait,” he tried to explain but you had already wondered off. This was all probably just a misunderstanding. Maybe Mary always wanted a daughter and she was upset that you weren’t really hers. She was such a kind woman from what you knew, she comforted you when you lost your mom and treated you so well. You wanted to make her feel like she didn’t have to be uncomfortable with you.
“Mary,” you smiled as you stepped into the library.
“Oh,” she replied with tense shoulders. “Hi, Y/N.”
“So, listen. John told me that you feel uncomfortable with me around because I’m not your daughter,” you said, getting straight to the point. You folded your arms and Mary looked shocked at your words. “I’m not mad. But Mary, I see you like a mother. You’re not just Sam and Dean’s mom, you’re mine too.”
You stood there for a second and waited for her reaction. You didn’t know what to expect yet what she did still surprised you. She laughed.
“Oh, Y/N,” she continued to laugh. “You think I want you to be my daughter?”
“What?” You questioned as you unfolded your arms and dropped them to your sides. “Mary-”
“Thank you for that, I really needed that,” she replied with her final laugh. “You see, I’m not uncomfortable with you because I wish you were my daughter. I’m uncomfortable to know that you are John’s mistake. He didn’t love your mother… He only slept with her because I was dead.”
Her words hit you. You never expected her to say anything like this. You wanted to reply but you were frozen in shock.
“So,” she continued as she stood up and spoke so close to your face that you could feel her breath. “Sam and Dean are my children and John is my husband. I don’t need you coming in and messing up my family. You can stay, I can’t make you go, but don’t think for a second that you are my daughter, you never will be. You’d be better off dead.”
* * *
“I don’t remember everything that you said, but a lot of it stayed with me. I remember you saying that I’m not a really Winchester and that I messed up your family. I remember you calling me ‘John’s mistake’. But the thing that hurt me most was when you said that I’m not your daughter and I never will be, that I would be better off dead.”
If only there was a way to explain how angry Dean was. How could Mary say that to you? How could she make you feel so worthless? To tell you that you were better off dead could have been the first thing to give you the idea that death was an option.
“My message in this, ladies and gentlemen, is to be careful what you say to people. To you it may seem like you’re just getting your point across, but to the person on the other end it could quite literally feel like the end of their world. Mary, I want you to know how badly that scarred me, how much it hurt to know that a few months after I lost my real mother, the closest thing I had to one didn’t love me. You never wanted me, and that’s when I began to feel like I didn’t belong anymore.”
That was it. The end of tape 3. This changed the way Dean felt about everyone on there. He was furious with his dad, he was ready to kill Crowley, and when he next say Mary- well, he’s not going to keep his feelings to himself.
It seemed so unlike Mary to say anything like that. There must have been a reason. Something must have happened to cause her to act that way. But that didn’t matter to Dean, all he knew was that she said it and it was way out of line.
But, then again, she should have thought about that before she became one of the reasons why.
If you’d ever be around a small town called Heavensville, and you were to ask for the best bakery in town, everyone within a few miles would tell you to go to Dean’s Doughy Delights. There was no better bakery than this, and you’d never meet a sweeter man.
You could find Dean in his bakery, selling cookies and bread and pies and cakes, or in the kitchen behind the bakery, baking delicious goods all by himself. It was quite a large store for only one man since Dean was alone, and it was more than enough to keep him busy every day. You’d wonder if Dean ever rested because it seemed like he never did, but he always smiled and always laughed and seemed never tired of his job. One look at him would tell you that his soul was good. His eyes were bright, his nose was covered in freckles, his teeth white and his smile charming. You wouldn’t call him heavy or fat, but his body showed he tasted plenty of his own pies. But like Dean said himself, ‘a baker needs his love handles to show how good his products are’. And he was right.
On a quiet Monday, Dean was busy in his kitchen, like any other day, kneading the dough with his large hands filled with skill. His fingers stuck to the dough just enough and he hummed a song, moving around his beloved kitchen to get some flour, squeezing himself in between two piles of boxes with decoration he hadn’t unpacked yet. He was just busy making one of his beloved pecan pies, unknowing that his life was about to change.
He heard a sound from inside the store, a thump. He put down his dough, rinsed his hands under the tap and grabbed a towel. The red blush from hard work on his freckled cheeks contrasted with the white flour on his apron, but he cared about neither. While still drying his hands, he pushed the swinging door open with his back and walked into the store.
There was a man standing in his store, unlike anyone else. Next, to the dirty clothes, the man’s hair seemed long and unkempt, alike the dark beard. But most of all, he stood behind the display and was holding a cream roll in one hand, and a partly eaten slice of one of the freshly baked pies. On the counter lay several loaves of bread hastily pushed into a brown bag.
The man stared at Dean with large, frightened eyes and swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
“So,” Dean said. He was used to getting strangers in his bakery, but not strangers who stole his goods. “… I guess I’ll call the police, then.”
“Please,” the man choked. His voice sounded like gravel, but his eyes were warm and begging. “I- I can explain, don’t… Don’t call the police.”
“Alright,” Dean said to the other’s surprise and he put down the towel. “Give me a reason not to turn around and walk away now. Give me a reason to not call the police.” Dean was known for his kindness, but this man either hadn’t heard of it or hadn’t believed because he seemed to be too confused to answer for a moment.
“I- I… I saw your advertisement.” He said hastily once he seemed to find his speech back. “About needing help.”
Dean had put up a little note on his bakery’s window, asking for assistance, but no one seemed in need of a job.
“Well… I didn’t really mean stealing my food.” Dean frowned.
“I’m sorry, sir, I am… I wanted to walk in here and ask about the vacancy, but then I walked in and… Everything seemed so delicious and- I-” The man looked down to his feet. “I haven’t eaten in four days. I think I lost control when I saw all of this displayed and…”
“Sit down,” Dean demanded and grabbed one of the small, plastic chairs at the side and pulled the table along. “Sit down and finish your food. I’ll get you some water as well, I’ll make you a proper sandwich as well and then we’ll talk.”
When the man had settled and was wolfing down on his food, Dean sat on the other plastic chair and watched. He’d closed the shop so they wouldn’t get interrupted. This was important, the guy was starving and he, Dean, had food enough. Never would he have anyone starve if he could help it.
“Alright, first of all, I’m Dean.”
“Castiel.” The man blinked. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”
“Likewise.” Dean gave Castiel a gentle smile. “Alright, buddy, tell me.” He continued, moving forward a little. “How did you end up here, like this?”
Castiel took a sip of his second glass of water. Now he’d eaten a little, he spoke more.
“I lost my job in my hometown last week,” he told, “… I worked at my mother’s restaurant, but I wasn’t good enough and since I’m her only son who isn’t religious… I was kicked out first.” He shrugged softly. “I lost everything that day. So I walked, and walked, and searched for work, but no one wants a man with nothing to give. And today I ended up here, and then…” He nodded at the almost finished sandwich Dean prepared for him. “I was very hungry.”
“Jesus, man, your mom’s one hell of a… ya know.” Dean huffed, then held up his hands. “Sorry, but it’s gotta be said.”
Castiel gave him a careful smile. “You’re the first person I tell this. The first I really talk to.”
Dean observed Castiel in silence. There was something about him he couldn’t quite place, something graceful and warm, something that told him whatever would happen, he would never forget Castiel.
“You could work here,” Dean offered. Castiel almost dropped his food.
“What? You wouldn’t… I stole your food.”
“Not really,” Dean pointed out. “And… I know how it is to be hungry.” He confessed, giving Castiel a slow nod. “You’re living on the edge, man, and if I can pull you back to solid ground I’m happy to do so. Plus, I could really use that help and you said you used to work in a restaurant.”
“Correct.” Castiel shrugged, not quite sure if Dean was making a good decision yet. “But remember that I have no papers, no clothes, let alone a house or a place to sleep. I’m not the most beneficial employee one could imagine.”
“I don’t care,” Dean shrugged because he simply didn’t care if he was beneficial or not. “I live upstairs. You can get a shower and a few hours of sleep, I’ll get you some money ahead to fix you some clothes and necessities and we’ll find a way to make it work.”
“I… I can’t-” Castiel took a breath. “I can’t accept your offer, Dean, it’s too big… too generous.”
“Well, if you don’t take my offer, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.” He raised his eyebrows at Castiel. Dean knew he’d never report him if he declined, but Castiel nodded.
“That’s comprehensible. I… I will accept it, then. There is no way I can thank you for your generosity.”
Dean’s chuckle created dimples in his cheeks.
“None of that, Cas. Well, let’s get you all fixed up first. I’ll show you the bathroom so you can shower.”
Dean walked upstairs and Castiel, still a little hesitant, followed upstairs.
If you’d ever be around a small town called Heavensville, and you were to ask for the best bakery in town, everyone within a few miles would tell you to go to Dean’s Doughy Delights & Castiel’s Crunchy Cookies. Dean wasn’t alone anymore. With him was Castiel. The two of them put love in all they did and shared it with the people who came to them. For both knew that a simple, generous gesture, could change anyone’s life for good.
Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader
Summary: The Winchester siblings start a little prank war and it escalates quickly
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: None, just some fluff
A/N: Special thanks to @nickiwinchester97 because she encourages me a lot and I love her. And to my dad who (unknowingly) inspired a lot of this :D
It all started out pretty harmless. Dean was annoyed by Sam who had
complained about his unhealthy choice of food, and as soon as Sam went to the
kitchen to get himself some water, you watched your eldest brother rip of a
piece of carton from the pizza box and hide it under a pepperoni slice on Sam’s
It was hard for you to hold back your laughter when Sam came back and
took a bite. He had somehow managed to bite through the carton and was now
munching on it, completely unaware of what he was eating.
Dean watched him as well, and even though he was good at keeping his
game face on you knew he was cracking up on the inside.
Request: Hey, love your writing! I was wondering if a could request a fic where Dean and the reader are that dorky but adorable couple. Like they sing (not very well) in the car together, tell bad jokes, watch movies in sweatpants see who can make a better Mohawk with their hair when in the shower lmao idk, you get the idea. And then at the end he proposes to her? I’m getting bored of fics with stereotypical characters and relationships :P Thanks so much!
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,200ish
A/N: Possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever written…
Sitting in the back seat of the Impala, this ride was so much different than your last. Sam was awake, smiling as he stared out the window. Dean had his radio up loud, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Hearing one of your favorite songs come on the radio, you began singing along, surprising both Sam and Dean. Catching a pair of eyes as green as the grass outside staring at you in the rear view mirror. His head was cocked to the side, his Sandy hair still standing on end. It was easy to see his mixed emotions, even though he was still a stranger to you.
Summary: You’re a Winchester. Sam and Dean’s little sister. Same dad, different mom. You spend your life traveling with your brothers and moving to different schools, never staying in one place for more than a few weeks. But when your brothers tell you they found a case in California, you’re thrown into a completely different world - the town of Beacon Hills. When you meet a group of suspicious friends who keep finding themselves in the middle of murders, you realize that this case is going to be a lot more difficult to solve - especially when you’re starting to fall for one of the suspects.
Warnings: Mentions of violent murders
“Dinner’s here!” Dean called, his voice echoing through the halls of the bunker. You emerged from your room almost immediately, heading towards the grumbling sound of your brothers talking in the kitchen. You could smell the pizza before you reached the room and ran in, spotting Sam pulling a slice from the box, Dean already halfway through with his piece.
“I hope you got fries,” you warned as you grabbed a paper plate, Dean instantly plopping a take out container in front of you. You smiled in victory and sat down next to Sam, the both of you facing Dean.
“So, we got a case,” Dean told you, his mouth full of food.
“Chew first, then speak,” you reminded him, earning an eye roll.
“This town in California. Lots of crazy things going on over there.”
“Supernatural crazy, that’s for sure,” Sam chimed in. “We thought it was just werewolves at first, but when we dug a little deeper, we found a lot more.”
“Bodies found in the woods, teenagers missing, wolves spotted in public places,” Dean added.
“California doesn’t have wolves,” you stated.
“Exactly. It’s basically anything you wouldn’t expect from a small town that’s almost in the middle of nowhere,” Dean said.
“And get this - the FBI was sent there a few years back to research a string of murders, but they left after a while without finding anything,” Sam said, wiping his hands on a napkin before grabbing his laptop. “The reports didn’t say much, but the sheriff of the town was being watched. Actually, so was his son…” he trailed off, squinting his eyes at something he was reading. “His son was in the middle of the mess too. But I saw him somewhere else… here. Wow.” He clicked a button and turned the laptop around for you and Dean to see. He had searched the sheriff’s son’s name and found a list of cases that he was tangled in.
“Troublemaker,” you muttered, taking in the list in front of you. “So what’s the deal now?”
“Murders are happening again, but… this time they’re even more confusing. We don’t know what it is, but the victims all have the same injuries. They were all strangled, took a blow to the head, and had a slit throat. Each separate injury was fatal in itself. Whoever killed them really wanted them dead,” Sam explained. You let out a breath at the vulgarity of the situation.
“We wanna get going as soon as possible so nobody else dies. We’ll probably head out tomorrow morning. You good with that?” Dean asked, and you nodded at him, sticking a fry in your mouth.
“On to school number 24,” you joked, causing Dean to freeze up.
“Have you been counting?” He asked cautiously.
“No, I just like that number,” you laughed, watching his shoulders drop with ease. You were receiving your education from schools all over the country, and Dean hated it. He knew what it was like to keep transferring, how it was hard to make friends or even pass a grade when you knew you were going to be gone in a few weeks time. You didn’t mind it, though. You loved your brothers more than anything, and you wanted to stay with them on every hunt, even though they tried to keep you out of it most of the time. Besides, it was fun to meet different people and experience different towns. The best part was that you never cared what people thought of you, since you knew once you left you’d never see them again. You finished your pizza and stood up from the table.
“I’m gonna go pack my bag,” you informed, dumping your paper plate in the garbage and strolling towards your room.
Almost an hour had passed when you were sat on your bed, your duffel bag stuffed with clothes, shoes, and notebooks. Your family knew how to pack light, considering you basically lived on the road, so having only one bag was plenty. There was a soft knock on your door before Dean peeked his head in.
“Hey, kiddo. Can I come in?” he asked, and you gestured for him to enter, moving the bag over so he could join you. His emerald eyes were tired and watching you with a hint of regret.
“What’s up?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed. He hesitated before responding.
“Are you good with us leaving again? ‘Cause we’ve made the bunker our home, and it’s really a pain to keep switching schools, so if you want to stay behind, you can. I don’t have a problem with that. You don’t have to keep stopping your life to follow us around the country,” Dean told you, guilt apparent in his features. You sighed, upset to see him in such a manner. Your brother had a rough childhood. You weren’t there to witness it, but it was evident in almost every encounter he had with you. Sam used to tell you stories about how your father treated them while they were kids, and it made your stomach churn. He had been completely different with you during the few years he was alive to take care of you. Once he passed, Dean swore to let you have a normal life, even though you knew that hunting was inevitable for the Winchesters.
“Dean, it’s okay. I like traveling. I don’t mind switching schools. I’d rather be you guys than stay here alone. Our job is important, no matter the price we have to pay,” you said.
“I know, but when you said that at dinner, I-”
“I was joking! Dean, I was making light of the situation. I really don’t mind. I promise,” you insisted. He glanced at you for a few seconds before pulling you into a hug.
“Okay. We’re gonna leave at eight o’clock tomorrow. Get some sleep,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Goodnight, Dean.” You watched him walk towards you door.
“Night, sweetheart,” he smiled, closing the door behind him.
The three of you met in the hallway at eight on the dot, everyone sporting a flannel and gripping a packed duffel bag.
“Wow,” you giggled. “I wonder if we’re related.” Your brothers dismissed your joke with a chuckle as they headed towards the Impala, leaving you to trail behind. You put your bag in the trunk first and climbed into the backseat, making yourself comfortable as your brothers packed the rest of the stuff and settled into the car.
“Alright, let’s go,” Dean said as he started the car.
“How long will the drive be?” you asked once you were on the road.
“Twenty-four hours,” Sam answered, laughing when you groaned loudly. “Don’t worry, we’ll drive as much as we can today and stop somewhere for the night. You might as well go to sleep for a bit to pass the time.” You agreed to that, grabbing one of Dean’s jackets from the floor to use as a pillow. You suddenly remembered you didn’t even know exactly where you were headed.
“I forgot to ask. What town are we going to?” Dean looked over his shoulder to respond.
**I’m not really sure what I want to do with this, but I had an idea and I wanted to write it! I don’t know how long I’ll make it, but please leave some feedback!**