spn classic

Again & Again

Episode 12x6 in the eyes of the reader.

A/N: This season continuously hits me with MOM feels over and over again, and as soon as the episode was over, I had to write about it. I just want to hug Dean and Sam and tell them everything will be okay. I do not hate Mary and I do understand her position, so please do not take this as me disliking her. There are spoilers of 12x06 in this, so please don’t read any further if you don’t want it to be spoiled. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 1,745

*This is for @kittenofdoomage Classic Movie Quote Challenge, and my quote was ‘Why so serious?’ from The Dark Knight.

- angst.
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gifs are not mine.

She’d shown up again, their mother. Or at least, the ghost of what she once was. When she was around Sam and Dean were both more flighty, harder to read than normal. It was maddening. She was everything to them, and a complete stranger to you.

When she first left, you hated her; her leaving throwing Dean down a spiraling path he hadn’t traveled in a long time. Sam, he understood. He tried to explain to you in the best ways he could that she needed space. But Dean struggled, and it damn near broke your heart. How could you try to love and understand someone who wanted nothing to do with the man you loved? Her son.

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Old flames

Characters: Dean, Reader and mentions of Lisa.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: Some swearing.

Summary: Reader sees Dean in bar after years and he’s different. His whole life is. Does he act on his feelings for the reader or lets the reader leave again?

A/N: This is for @kittenofdoomage‘s classic movie quotes challenge and i was given Just when I thought I was out they pull me back in from the Godfather: Part iii. I hope y’all enjoy.

Originally posted by poorbeautifuldean

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Day Made, Pt I

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Returning home from a long, hard hunt you realize you need a little space from Dean as your feelings for him start to overwhelm you. However, Dean realizes that space is the last thing that he wants or needs. Part I.
Prompt: This is for @kittenofdoomage Classic Movie Challenge. My prompt was “Go ahead, make my day,” from Sudden Impact (1983).
Warnings: A good bit of swearing, temporary angst (if you squint), the beginning of fluff & smutty goodness.
Word Count: 3,517
A/N: Originally this was going to be a one shot, but it (and time) got away from me. Seriously. I’m already posting this at the last possible moment. Traveling for grad school to places where the internet is not a sure thing, plus some anxiety and stress issues had me pushing this baby off for way too long. So this is going to end up being two parts. Maybe more. I’m growing kinda attached to this reader. And yes, I’m sorry, I’ve basically cut it at the most inconvenient moment possible. Smut will likely (okay, will) follow in Part 2. You know, once life sorts itself out and I have time to write for real. 
Also: this hasn’t been beta’ed, so any and all feedback is welcomed warmly. If you’d like to beta things for me in the future, please let me know! 
Updated (12/1): fixed some (really awful) typos and an inconsistency that was making my eye twitch. 

Tags: At the end of the story.

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual


Walking into the bunker you peeled off your blood-stained t-shirt and threw it directly into the trash. Damnit, you grumbled in your mind, I loved that fucking shirt. It had been a long day — longer than usual. Scanning the room from the bottom of the stairs you were reminded of just how grateful you were to have a home now.

Your home.

You still savored those words.

Sure, you shared the space with two overgrown children, but the bunker provided a sense of refuge that had been absent from your life for so long. When Dean had told you about this place and then when he and Sam had insisted that you move in to one of the empty rooms, you resisted. That wasn’t the life of a hunter - you didn’t get to have a home. Didn’t get to have a place where you could hoard more possessions than could fit into the trunk of your car.  

But they had insisted, hunt after hunt, and finally you caved.

But it wasn’t their repeated invitations or Sam’s puppy dog eyes that had won you over. It was the promise of a hot shower whenever you wanted one. Even more, it was the fluffy, non-roadside-motel towels and full-sized bottles of shampoo that you got to pick out and buy for yourself. Those were the things that constituted heaven for you, so you said yes. The boys were elated.

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