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castiwls · 1 day

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"uh-oh, i'm falling in love."

being Bobby's adopted daughter and falling in love with Dean... [requested - anon]

You were around 15 when your parents were killed in a hunting incident and as a result, Bobby ended up taking you in.

You’d spent the first few months sulking around the house, something which began to worry Bobby as months passed and your behaviour seemed no different.

He knew he had to break your behaviour somehow but he was completely stumped. That was until one day he woke up to John quickly shoving his sons in the door before running off to do go knows what.

Silently cursing the man out he quickly invited the two boys inside before continuing with breakfast (now for 4 people).

“Who are they?” You looked up from the book you’d been reading, frowning in slight confusion at the two boys who were currently standing in the doorway. The younger of the two smiled brightly before almost tripping over himself to see what you were reading while the older silently gapped in the doorway. Since when did Bobby have a daughter?

After this, you quickly found friends in both the boys.

While Sam was someone who you could talk to about lore and any other books you might have been reading, Dean was someone who you were able to fully confide in.

Over the three weeks the boys stayed you and Dean quickly became inseparable and for the first time in months, you didn't feel grief-stricken constantly. You actually felt happy.

Over the years Sam and Dean became a constant in your life. As you grew older Bobby began letting you go on hunts with the Winchesters (something which Dean enjoyed more than he would admit.)

Over time though you felt a slight shift in your feelings towards the older boy. Every time you saw him or even heard his voice butterflies would swarm in your stomach and your cheeks would quickly grow hot.

The shrill ringing of your phone pulled you from your book. A small frown played on your lips as you noted the name on your screen. “Hello?” Placing your book down you crossed your legs sitting up properly on your bed. “Hey. I didn’t wake you right?” Dean sounded sheepish almost as he spoke. At the sound of his voice, a small burst of butterflies exploded in your stomach. “no..no I was awake.”

Late-night phone calls quickly became an almost daily occurrence whenever you weren't together, and when you were together these phone calls were exchanged for late-night diner trips just the two of you.

Every day you felt yourself falling harder and harder for Dean Winchester and little did you know he felt the same.

After Sam had gone to Stanford Dean had showed up on your doorstep only hours later, his eyes red as he’d quietly asked to stay the night.

He’d ended up staying for a few weeks after that. You’d spent every day together over that time simply listening to him talk about what had happened between his dad and brother and how he was scared for Sam being on his own.

As happy as you were that Sam had gotten out it broke your heart slightly to see how Dean was handling the situation.

Over this time you’d found yourself more than once falling asleep beside him (something which Bobby wasn’t too happy about) and you’d also felt yourself grown closer and closer to him.

He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, something which you knew was hard for him. The idea that he trusted you enough simply left your heart fluttering in your chest.

During these few weeks, Dean quickly found himself falling further and further in love with you. He’d known for a while now that he had feelings for you but the way you’d allowed him to unload onto you and made him realise how utterly in love with you he truly was.

One night when you’d both been sat on one of the old cars in the scrap yard he finally felt his feelings bubble over.

The world was quiet as you and Dean both sat watching the stars above. You knew he had to leave soon, his dad had been relentless with his calls saying that Dean needed to come back to his job and that he’d had enough time. Truthfully you didn’t want him to leave. Over the last few weeks, you’d grown used to the warmth of him beside you. “My dad’s coming in the morning.” Dean turned to face you. “He insisted this time.” He frowned, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “What time?” You asked quietly turning to look at him. “He didn’t give one,” Dean answered. You both fell slightly for a moment, simply gazing into each other's eyes. As if being pulled in by a magnet you felt your body move on its own until you met Dean halfway. As his lips pressed against yours you felt his hand cup the back of your head while your own moved to his knee.

After that night your relationship changed. Neither of you actually asked the question but the unspoken promise was there. Dean Winchester had stolen your heart and it seemed you had also stolen his.

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waywardxwords · 1 day

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Chapter 9 - Stay (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3.4

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8]

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean.

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take before he smiled.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both.

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as you blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings.

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.”

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly.

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

“Sounds good to me,” he answered as he eyed the next exit.

“Let’s do fast food,” you said as he took the exit. “We can do a bathroom break and get it to go so we can get back on the road.”

It was a quick stop; you both used the bathroom and ordered breakfast sandwiches and hashbrowns to go and got back into the car to hit the road. You were thankful you felt fully rested.

“You should really try to get some rest,” the dark circles under Dean’s eyes, paired with how his eyelids looked super heavy, gave away that he was exhausted.

“You sure you’re good?” He gave you a side glance. You smiled and tapped the navigation system between you.

“I’ve got the map right here. I’m good,” you encouraged. He nodded once before he leaned back and closed his eyes.

The music played softly around you as you drove. You had tested it briefly about an hour after you had stopped, certain Dean had found a deep sleep by the sound of his soft snores.

You had to stop about four hours in for a quick bathroom break, but Dean hadn’t stirred. According to Google maps, you had just about two hours left now until you’d reach Lebanon.

“If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy,” you sang softly to the music that came through your speakers.

“What are you listenin’ to?” Dean’s voice was deep and gruff, still laced with remnants of sleep.

You felt like you jumped out of your skin and clutched at your chest as you sucked in a gasp of air.

“Jesus,” you muttered as you looked between him and the road. “Don’t do that!”

Dean chuckled as he pulled his hand over his face to wipe off the sleep. “Do what?” His lip picked upwards in a smirk.

“Scare me like that, you about gave me a heart attack,” you breathed as you tried to calm your heart as it thudded against your sternum.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grinned as he adjusted his position on his seat. “But seriously, what is this noise?”

“The Backstreet Boys,” a smirk tugged at your lips as you drove. Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and you stole a glance. “I told you I’d get you listening to some boy band classics.” You remembered back to when you first saw Dean again and you had walked around town, talking about all of your favorite things.

Dean audibly groaned. “How is this on your list of favorites?”

“Oh, this song did things to me back in the day,” you laughed softly.

“What kinda things?” Dean almost wiggled his eyebrows as he watched you. You just smirked and nibbled on your bottom lip with a shrug. “Uh uh,” he muttered, and without another thought he reached over and pulled your lip free with his thumb. “Keep that lip outta your teeth. It’s dangerous.”

Laughter bubbled in you once more. While you fully trusted Dean, there really hadn’t been any conversation about what this was between you now. Not after everything that had happened. It felt safer to change the topic.

“Only a few hours out now,” you glanced down at the navigation system. “I can stop for a bathroom break. Do you feel rested?”

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” he said as he glanced at the map on the screen. “I should probably explain where Sam and I live to you before we get there.” He pulled at the back of his neck uncomfortably as you flipped on your turn signal to exit at the rest stop that was approaching.

You cleared your throat as you prepared to tell him what your brain had mulled over while he slept. “About that,” you said slowly at first. “I don’t want to invade your space, Dean. I was thinking it might be best if I stay in a hotel close by. At least until we figure out what’s going on.” You left out the words between us and avoided eye contact. The distraction of keeping your eyes on the road was a good enough reason to not meet his gaze.

He was silent, maybe he wanted to try to find the right words, so you filled the gap with your reasoning.

“I just don’t want to invade your space—for you and for Sam. I’d still be close by, in case of emergencies or anything,” you explained and stole a glance as you pulled into a parking spot at the rest stop. You could no longer blame keeping your eyes on the road for not looking at him, and you were also curious as to how he felt or what he was thinking.

“You’re not invading our space,” he tried to assure you. “But, I understand if you’d be more comfortable in a hotel.” The words seemed painful as he said them, but he didn’t push back, and you appreciated that.

“Just for a few days, maybe,” you sighed. “This is all just a lot.”

Dean nodded. “I get that,” he agreed. “A few days.” He smiled to show you it was okay.

The rest of the drive had gone well, it was easy. Dean found a hotel that wasn’t far from where he lived, and Sam had met you both there with the Impala.

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled at the younger Winchester as Dean moved his bags from your trunk to the Impala’s back seat, and then hauled your bags out to carry into the hotel.

“Hey,” he smiled, though you felt as though something might be off. “How was the drive?”

“Not terrible,” you took a glance at Dean as he closed your trunk. Sam cleared his throat.

“Listen, I just want you to know, you staying with us isn’t imposing on me at all,” Sam’s words sounded like Dean had filled him in via text at the rest stop earlier. “You’re welcome to stay with us.” He lowered his gaze to make sure you could see his eyes. You knew he was being genuine.

“I appreciate it,” you said truthfully. “I just feel like I need a few days to catch my breath and then I can reevaluate.”

Sam nodded, as he seemed to understand.

“Let’s get you checked in,” Dean placed his hand on your lower back just above your jeans. The feeling of his hand sent a wave of warmth even through the sweater you had on, and you relished in the feeling as he led you to the lobby of the hotel.

Both Sam and Dean seemed on alert as you checked in with the lady at the front desk. She didn’t seem phased as she handed you a key card and told you breakfast was between 6 and 9. You smiled and thanked her as you made your way to the elevators.

There was silence as the elevator climbed to the third floor. You scanned your key against the lock on the door, but Dean’s arm went out in front of you and he grasped the metal handle.

“Give us a sec,” his voice was low as he pushed into the room with Sam behind him. You caught the door with your foot and watched as they checked the room. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, so there wasn’t much to search. The rattle of the shower curtain echoed against the bathroom’s tiled walls. Once they felt comfortable, Dean nodded for you to come in.

You noticed then that Sam had brought a backpack up with him from the Impala. He set it down on one of the beds and unzipped it.

“So here’s the deal,” Dean said somewhat firmly. “You can’t leave this room under any circumstances unless Sam or I are with you. Don’t open the door for anyone.” Sam had taken a large container of what looked like salt and started putting it in front of the windows. “When we leave, I need you to take that salt and put it in front of the door, alright?”

“Do I want to know why?” You practically gulped as you watched Sam work.

“Probably not,” Dean answered softly. “I need you to wear this.” You noticed he had a dainty silver chain in his hand with a charm on it. Your fingers reached for the jewelry and you swallowed when your skin grazed his. Upon further examination, you realized this charm was a carbon copy of Dean’s tattoo on his chest.

“What is this?” You asked as you looked over the design.

“It’s an anti-possession charm,” he explained carefully. “If you have this on, demons—like Meg—can’t possess you. Like what happened to your friend, Jen.” He swirled his finger to have you turn around, and you did. Even though all of this sounded absolutely insane to you, all you had to do was pull the images of Jen/Meg from your memory to remind yourself it was all very real.

You gathered your hair over your shoulder and held it there as Dean adjusted the chain around your neck and his fingers worked to clasp it behind you. Every time his fingers flitted over your skin, you felt somersaults in your stomach.

The sound of an aerosol can being sprayed jostled you back to reality as you spun around to see Sam with a can of spray paint.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he finished a design underneath a rug in front of the doorway.

“It’s a Devil’s trap,” Dean explained. “We’ll put one in front of the window, too. If a demon gets in, they can’t get out of that and they can’t hurt you.”

That felt slightly reassuring, but you were still on edge. “I’m not getting my security deposit back, am I?” There was a nervous chuckle to your question.

“Sorry,” Sam managed a small, sympathetic smile as he finished his art work and let it dry for a moment before he tossed the rug back over. He went back to the window to create it again.

You were distracted by the sound of Dean emptying the remaining contents from the backpack onto the bed. There was, what looked like, an iron rod, a jug of water, more salt, a flask and then a serious knife—it reminded you of a hunting knife or something. The knife alone made you gulp, but everything combined had your head spinning.

“What’s all this?” The words came out as a whisper. Dean placed his hand on that familiar spot on your lower back once more and led you to the edge of the bed. This time was a lot different than when you were in that bed and breakfast just a few days prior.

“This,” he picked up the jug. “Is salt water. The flask is holy water,” he explained. “That’s an iron rod, extra salt for the doors and windows, and a silver knife. These are all the weapons I could think of for the monsters we hunt.”

“How will I know what to use?” You asked as your eyes moved over all of the things placed before you. Silently, you wondered if maybe you should have stayed with Dean and Sam, after all.

“Honestly, there’s so much to explain,” Dean started as he let out a breath. “Your best bet is to start slingin’ salt water and holy water,” he motioned to the jug and flask. “I don’t think you’ll see a spirit, because that’s more complicated—so you probably won’t need the iron. Werewolf or someone who looks like me, but isn’t me,” he picked up the knife. “Silver blade.” He paused for a second. “Shit, I didn’t think about the vampires…” his words were quieter as he processed.

“I’m sorry, werewolves? Vampires? And what do you mean, someone who looks like you but isn’t you?” Your thoughts were swimming around in your brain. But it wasn’t a leisurely swim, it was like there had been a damn tsunami and waves were flooding and crashing every second.

Dean somehow just knew. Maybe it was the way the words were flowing haphazardly from your lips, or the way your fingers had started to tremble. But he knew.

He reached down and tugged on your wrist so you faced him. “Take a breath, sweetheart,” he said softly. Sam had stilled his movements after he readjusted the rug by the window. “Sammy, can you give us a minute?”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing,” he gave you a small smile as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Dean’s hand came up to catch your cheek in his palm. It was impossible not to be pulled into the warmth of his grasp. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

“I know this is a lot,” he kept his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I want to keep you safe.” His words hit at a spot in your heart that caused a flutter across your chest.

“You don’t have to save me, Dean,” you reached up and held his hand on your face in place.

“Oh, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s not even a question in this scenario. I’m just sorry I got you pulled into this shitstorm of my life.” His words felt sad to you, and you didn’t think he meant for them to be. His hand fell from your cheek back to his side.

“Dean, I really, really like you,” you made sure you held his gaze as the words flowed. He needed to see the sincerity behind him—to know you were speaking the truth.

“People I care about get hurt,” he said simply, but little worry lines had appeared by his eyes and between his eyebrows. His eyes matched the sadness of his voice. “Once we figure out what’s going on and I can make sure you’re safe,” he started carefully, as if he didn’t want to say the words but more so needed to. “I want to get you back to Virginia. Back to a normal life.”

The words struck as if you had been slapped and your eyes widened. That wasn’t something you had expected him to say. “I don’t know, I feel like that’s for me to decide. It’s my safety you’re worried about, right?”

“Just yesterday, you were determined I was a psycho serial killer who faked my death and was on the run,” he quipped with a sad smile.

While he wasn’t wrong, you still weren’t sold on his reasoning. “Can we just say we’ll take this one day at a time? Go from there?” You asked him gently.

His eyes moved between yours and he managed a single nod. “Okay. One day at a time.”

“Thank you,” you breathed. The heaviness of the day fell over you, and it seemed as though Dean noticed.

“I’m going to get going, let you get some rest,” he cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, or sooner, if you need me.”

You followed him towards the door.

“Remember, salt line behind the door once I leave. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll say ‘Atlanta’ when I come back,” he placed his hand on the door handle and turned back once more.

“Got it,” you nodded as you listened to his instructions. “And Dean?” He turned back towards you again for you to continue. “Thank you for bringing me here. For keeping me safe.”

Dean nodded once with a small smile. There was a hesitation there, but you could almost make out when his heart changed his mind, and you could have sworn you heard a fuck it. He leaned back towards you and pressed his lips to yours with his hand on your cheek once more.

Heat radiated beneath your skin, and you weren’t sure if it was from the traces of his fingertips there or the rush of his lips on yours—probably a mixture of both.

“Goodnight, Atlanta,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away.

“Goodnight, Dean,” you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips as he opened the door and closed it carefully behind him.

Dean climbed into the driver’s side of the Impala and closed the door behind him. Sam did the same in the passenger seat.

“She doing okay?” Sam asked.

“As good as can be expected,” Dean sighed and pulled his hand over his face. Sam was silent for a few seconds, but Dean knew he had plenty of thoughts floating around in his brain. “Go ahead and say it.” He said firmly.

“Say what, Dean? Everything I have to say, you already know,” Sam sighed. Dean didn’t respond, and instead put the Impala into reverse and backed out of the spot. “I just feel like it’s not the right time to get this sucked in.” There it is, Dean thought to himself.

“Don’t you think I know that?” He bit back but refused to meet his brother’s gaze.

“We know what we need to do for the second trial now,” Sam said carefully. Dean’s jaw flinched.

“Kevin figured it out?” He glanced between Sam and the road. Sam just nodded.

“We both know it’s going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better,” Sam glanced out the window and then back at Dean.

Dean nodded, his jaw set in a firm line. “I just need to keep her close by. At least until this shit is over. If Meg has made an appearance, we know more will be coming.”

“I thought we were keeping her close in the bunker. How are you going to keep her safe when we’ve got a fifteen minute drive between us? The bunker’s the safest place for her,” Sam wasn’t wrong.

“I know, but she’s scared. I was having a hard enough time trying to explain the bunker to her,” Dean sighed. “I’m dropping you off and going back to the hotel. I’ll sleep in the Impala in the parking lot.”

“Does she know that?” Sam smirked from his spot in the passenger seat, though he could’ve assumed the answer.

“No, and we’re keeping it that way,” Dean said firmly. “It's the only way I know I can keep her safe.”

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! We decided to extend our vacation by a few days, and I hate posting updates from my phone, so thanks for your patience!

Things will certainly start to pick up with this story now (after some consideration, I also think this might go beyond 13 chapters--TBD). I ended up getting some ideas as I re-watched bits and pieces of seasons 8 and 9, so we shall see what happens!

I hope you're loving it so far! Thanks for all of the likes, comments and reblogs. I appreciate you all!

Chapter 10 will be posted on Thursday, 5/2!

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morallygreyintrovert · 1 day

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writing my spn Destiel fix-it fanfic, I constantly have multiple tabs open for random research purposes, one of them being ‘’description of a rotten corpse”.

The life of a fanfic writer be like✨so glamorous ✨

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mishaesque · 1 day

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At the bunker. Dean’s birthday. Sam has baked him a pie. It’s awful because Sam couldn’t boil an egg to save his life. Dean blows out the candles and cuts a big piece. Sam says he doesn’t have to eat it, it tastes like crap. Dean says it’s the best pie he’s ever had and finishes the whole thing.

#also him and cas are married and happy and Sam is happy and Jack and the dog and they have a hamster and nothing bad ever happens to them #is this what the kids are calling a “coping mechanism #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #spn fanfic #one shot #fic prompt

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gabriels-golden-kazoo · 11 hours

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Cas doesn’t trust any animals that Gabriel was allowed to make or add to.

His reasoning? He doesn’t need one, there is no doubt in his mind that Gabriel’s brotherly torment will follow him around earth.

Thing is no one believes him, I mean why would they? So when they take him to the zoo they don’t really consider his concerns as, well, concerns.

“I don’t think an anteater can glare at you, I’m sure it’s just hungry.”

“Cas the porcupine wasn’t aiming for you.”

“I’m sure the platypus normally purrs and follows people as they walk past the enclosure.”

“I don’t think a parrot shouting feather brain at you repeatedly means anything, people probably call it that all the time.”

This kept happening until a giraffe straight up licks Cas’ head and not even Dean can give a reasonable explanation because it is odd that all the animals that Gabriel is constantly bragging about are terrorising Cas specifically.

Safe to say that Cas refuses to go to the zoo again and Gabriel finds it absolutely hilarious because he really didn’t have anything to do with it, and it’s probably just the fact Cas is an Angel, but obviously as a trickster he’s gonna take full credit for it.

#castiel #supernatural #fanfic #gabriel spn #spn fanfic #archangel gabriel #the trickster #destiel #deancas #sam winchester #sabriel #Cas and Gabe are brothers #comment what else Gabriel had a hand in making #tag what other animals if you reblog

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cthulhum · 9 hours

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started 91w i have read the first 2 chapters. i like 👍👍👍👍

#ok i dont just like I LOVE IT YESYES #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #destiel #castiel #deancas #spn fanfic #91 whiskey #91w #deans so stupid (affectionate)#i need angst like soooo much angst please #also i need more fic recs like those that r so popular the entire fandom has read them like i dont wanna feel excluded yk #but no omegaverse <3

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taino-ti · 1 day

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Supernatural Rewrite Project

Howdy, if you've seen me around you've probably heard I have a Supernatural Rewrite Project going. With a focus on delivering in both diversity & many of SPN's empty promises, I have started my revision of the pilot, which you can start reading here if you haven't already! Even if you've never seen Supernatural, the novelization of these episodes are written to be a cohesive presentation of the plot for a new audience, with my own changes as well (featuring brand new characters, like brand Winchester Middle Sister, Lorelai 🏳️‍⚧️)! As always comments and kudos are appreciated but never required, just hope you like my product! Want to connect with the project in a more hands on way? Join our Discord Server (15+!)

#Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #SPN #SPN Rewrite #Supernatural Rewrite #NYM SPN #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #.txt

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spnfanficpond · 2 days

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Weekly Pond Newsletter

There may not be a newsletter next week, so keep an eye on our calendar (links at the bottom) for anything that comes up! To ask forgiveness for missing a week, have a nice Jensen gif:

Old Business:

Fic Highlight - We did another fic highlight! It's a Destiel Russian mob AU that both fluffy and bloody as hell. Click here for our review!

SPN Rewatch: Fanfic Edition - We had a great chat yesterday about the episodes 2.05 Simon Said and 2.06 No Exit! Click here to access the Archive and read what we discussed in the episode docs!

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompts were -

New Business:

Fishing For Treasures - Next weekend is FFT weekend at the @fanficocean! May's theme is Pairings (especially Rarepairs)! Be sure to head over there next weekend and see what wild and wonderful rare pairings people have come up with outside of the SPN fandom!

Sun Spin Stageit - Next weekend Michae Rosenbaum and his partner in music will be performing for a virtual audience on Friday at 8pm EDT. Click here for info and to buy tickets!

Question for YOU - We are considering starting up something akin to the Angel Fish Awards, but where writers tell us about awesome comments they've received on their fics! Admin Michelle spent some time during her chat yesterday bandying about different names, but didn't come up with anything that really spoke to her. Angel Turtle Awards? Ninja Angel Turtle Awards? Raphael Awards? (Because, you know, he was a TMNT and an archangel.) What do you guys think? Let us know in replies and reblogs!

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @heavenssexiestangel!

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wisefoxluminary · 3 days

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So I've been writing a SPN fanfic and this is the first time I've looked at what I've written and I felt like I have lost my goddamn mind. I can't stop laughing at this 🤣

#supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #spn fanfic #ao3 author #no context will be given #it involves video games and anime that's all i can say #dean is a sailor moon fan confirmed #castiel is so done i'm sorry #this is the first time i've written something and been like “what the hell am i writing”#sometime fanfic comes up with crack when you least expect

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winchester-reload · 2 months

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Art for the lovely fic “And Now We Live” by WhatWeDoInTheDark (aka @pattywinchester). Head over to Ao3 and show the author some love!!

Thanks for letting me make some art for it, my friend. And thank you for your lovely words 💓

#destiel #destiel art #destiel fic #my art #dean winchester #castiel #fanart #spn fanfic #spn fanart

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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months

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Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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fluffsnake · 6 months

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Suptober Day 3 - Inspired

#the way I had the sketch laying around for the whole month #but hey #it's still October :^)#suptober23 #suptober #destiel #deancas #spn fanart #supernatural #chuck shurley #supernatural fanart #spn fanfic #my art #carver edlund #rob benedict

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alexsoenomel · 3 months

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POV: Texts between You and Dean Winchester

Bonus if you like Pedro Pascal:

This is what happens when I can't sleep

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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months

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Across Every Universe

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff

Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.

Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.

That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.

He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.

Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.

“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.

“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”

“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”

“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”

“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.

“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”

“My hero.”

You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.

He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.

“So, did you tell her how you feel?”

“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”

“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”

Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.

The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m doing alright but not any better.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”

“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.

Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.

“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.

“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”

Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”

“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”

“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”

“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.

He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.

“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”

“Y/N?”

“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.

They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.

“She kissed me, dude.”

“What?”

“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”

“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”

Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”

Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.

Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.

“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”

“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”

“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”

“How?” he whispers.

You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.

You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.

Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.

“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we just lay here instead?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”

You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.

“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”

Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.

“We’re married?”

“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just… really happy.”

You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.

“Hey,” Dean sighs.

“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”

“What if we didn’t leave?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The love of my life is my wife here.”

“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”

Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”

“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”

And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.

The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.

“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”

“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”

“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.

“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.

This is where he belongs. Right next to you.

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