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โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you both treat it like a competition, and suddenly the fake flirting has real teeth.
เนเฃญ โญ dean thinks he can out-charm you. hilarious. you push back immediately, sliding an arm around him, calling him โbabyโ in public with the most innocent smile, and watching his whole system lag for half a second. he plays along fast, but now itโs less about the case and more about who breaks character first. by the end of the night, youโve sold the act too well, and dean is pretending he didnโt enjoy every second of being claimed by you.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam tries to keep it professional, but you keep making him improvise, which is rude and effective.
เนเฃญ โญ sam has a plan. you ruin it in five minutes by getting too bold with the fake pet names and casual touching. he gives you that tight little warning look, the one that says please stop making this harder than it needs to be, which obviously makes you worse. still, he adapts better than he wants to admit, and when he finally puts his hand on your lower back to guide you through the room, you both go quiet for one very telling second.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you make the fake relationship feel steady, domestic, and way too believable for his comfort.
เนเฃญ โญ you donโt overperform. thatโs what gets him. you lean into him calmly, fix his collar without thinking, remember the fake backstory, and somehow make it feel lived-in instead of staged. dean jokes because he has to survive somehow, but he keeps looking at you when youโre not watching, caught off guard by how easy it feels. the fake dating ends, technically. his brain does not receive the memo.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam settles into the act too easily, then panics because easy has never been safe for him.
เนเฃญ โญ youโre warm, grounded, and practical about the whole thing, which should make the case simpler. instead, sam starts noticing stupid things. the way you touch his sleeve to get his attention. the way you answer questions about your โrelationshipโ with quiet confidence. the way it doesnโt feel ridiculous when someone calls you two a sweet couple. he tells himself itโs just good cover. poor man. lying to himself.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ the cover story keeps changing because youโre both committed to the bit, not necessarily the truth.
เนเฃญ โญ dean starts with a simple fake backstory and you immediately add unnecessary details. now you met at a gas station during a thunderstorm. now he proposed with a onion ring. now you have a dog named meatball. dean should be annoyed, but heโs laughing too hard under his breath. the chemistry is quick, messy, and very obvious, and half the witnesses probably think youโre either deeply in love or about to commit insurance fraud together. both are believable.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam thinks heโs prepared until you start improvising and his brain decides flirting is research.
เนเฃญ โญ you keep him sharp. every question from a witness becomes a chance for you to add another layer to the fake relationship, and sam keeps up beautifully, even while internally screaming. he corrects your fake anniversary date without missing a beat. you call him โhoneyโ just to see his jaw twitch. by the time the case is over, your fake relationship has lore, tension, and unresolved emotional consequences. as god intended.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you make the fake affection feel real, and dean starts malfunctioning quietly.
เนเฃญ โญ you donโt flirt aggressively. you just care too naturally. you brush dust off his jacket, ask if heโs eaten, touch his arm when he gets tense, and suddenly dean is fighting for his life in a public place. to everyone else, you look like a couple with history. to him, it feels dangerous because he canโt tell where the act ends. worse, he doesnโt really want it to end. classic dean disaster.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ you make sam look loved, and honestly, that is almost rude of you.
เนเฃญ โญ sam is good at pretending when he has to be, but with you, it doesnโt feel like pretending enough. you soften around him in public, and he softens back before he can stop himself. when someone asks how long youโve been together, he answers smoothly, but thereโs something in his face that gets too real. you notice. he notices you noticing. nobody is normal for the rest of the case.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you look too good on his arm, and dean immediately starts acting territorial while pretending itโs for the cover.
เนเฃญ โญ this is dangerous because both of you know how to sell a scene. you walk in confident, glowing, leaning into the role with just enough drama to make people look twice. dean loves it. hates it. loves it again. the problem starts when someone flirts with you and he reacts a little too fast, a little too sharp, hand sliding to your waist like the claim is automatic. later, he says it was strategy. sure, dean. strategy with heart eyes.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ you make the fake dating look effortless, and sam spends the whole case pretending he is not affected by your sparkle.
เนเฃญ โญ sam knows youโre playing a role. he does. he is intelligent. allegedly. but when you smile at him across a room, call him handsome, and tug him closer for the cover, his careful little wall starts cracking. he admires how easily you command attention, but what really gets him is when that attention turns gentle with him. suddenly, the performance has a pulse.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you have the cover story memorized, the details organized, and dean hates how hot competence looks on you.
เนเฃญ โญ you treat fake dating like a case file with emotional accessories. dates, jobs, backstory, reason for being thereโyou have it all ready. dean makes fun of you until your preparation saves his ass three separate times. then he starts enjoying it. the best part is how you correct him mid-conversation with a sweet smile and a hand on his chest, fully in character, absolutely lethal. he may survive the monster. you are the real problem.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ you and sam are so prepared that people assume youโve been married for years, which is inconvenient for everyoneโs feelings.
เนเฃญ โญ you two are a fake-dating machine. coordinated, thoughtful, detail-oriented, almost scary. sam appreciates how seriously you take the cover, but the intimacy sneaks in through the practical stuff: fixing his tie, passing him information without speaking, remembering the exact lie he told ten minutes ago. it becomes less โpretending to be closeโ and more โrevealing how close you already are.โ rude.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you make the fake romance pretty, easy, and socially lethal, which means dean is doomed.
เนเฃญ โญ you know exactly how to play a room. dean knows how to flirt, but you know how to make people believe in the love story. you laugh at his jokes, touch his arm at the perfect moments, look at him with warm little glances that make even him forget this is fake. he keeps trying to stay cocky, but you are making him look adored in public, and unfortunately that hits somewhere deep.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam relaxes into your charm until he realizes he has stopped pretending to enjoy your company.
เนเฃญ โญ with you, the fake dating is elegant. soft smiles, quiet teamwork, easy conversation. sam doesnโt have to force much because you naturally smooth over the awkward edges. witnesses trust you. strangers compliment you. someone says you two make a beautiful couple and sam laughs politely, but later he is haunted by the fact that he didnโt hate hearing it.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ the fake dating is all eye contact, tension, and dean pretending he isnโt one comment away from losing composure.
เนเฃญ โญ you donโt need to be loud. that is the problem. you stand close, speak low, look at him like you know exactly what heโs hiding, and dean gets defensive in that very specific way that means he is affected. the cover works because everyone can feel the tension from across the room. unfortunately, so can the two of you. by the end, the case is solved and the fake relationship has created several real problems.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam tries to keep distance, but you make pretending feel too much like confession.
เนเฃญ โญ sam is cautious with you because fake intimacy does not stay fake for long. not with the way you notice every shift in his face, every hesitation, every lie he tells smoothly to everyone except you. you play the role beautifully, but thereโs always an edge underneath it, something private and intense. sam starts the case guarded. he ends it wondering when exactly you became someone he doesnโt know how to step away from.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you turn fake dating into an adventure, and dean is having the time of his life while pretending youโre a liability.
เนเฃญ โญ your cover story is barely stable because you keep adding ridiculous details just to make him react. dean complains, but heโs grinning. the whole thing feels fast and messy: fake arguing in public, fake making up five minutes later, stealing food from each otherโs plates, flirting with danger and also with each other. he says youโre impossible. he says it fondly. thereโs the problem.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ you drag sam into the performance until he accidentally enjoys not being so controlled for once.
เนเฃญ โญ sam tries to keep the fake relationship believable. you make it memorable. you take his hand, pull him into a dance, invent a wild vacation story, and make him laugh when he absolutely should be focused. he gets nervous because youโre unpredictable, but thereโs relief in it too. with you, he gets to be someone lighter for a night. that kind of thing sticks.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you both act like this is strictly tactical, which would be more convincing if the tension wasnโt wearing a suit.
เนเฃญ โญ you and dean fake date like people entering a negotiation. clean, controlled, mildly hostile, extremely watchable. the chemistry is not fluffyโitโs sharp. you correct his approach, he needles your seriousness, and somehow everyone buys you as a couple because apparently bickering with mutual respect is a love language. dean says youโre bossy. you say heโs reckless. both of you are correct and turned on by the argument. unfortunate.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam respects your control so much that the fake dating becomes a slow-burn workplace hazard.
เนเฃญ โญ you and sam are careful. maybe too careful. no unnecessary touching, no sloppy improvising, no messy emotional leakage. which, naturally, makes every small gesture feel enormous. his hand at your back. your fingers fixing his sleeve. the shared look when someone asks if youโre serious about each other. you both answer the case question perfectly. neither of you answers the actual question.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you refuse to fake-date in the expected way, and dean is attracted to the chaos against his will.
เนเฃญ โญ dean expects flirtation. you give him weird couple lore, emotional distance, and a fake backstory so specific it sounds real. he spends half the case trying to figure out if youโre messing with him, flirting with him, or conducting a social experiment. probably all three. he acts annoyed, but the truth is, you keep him on his toes, and deanโs stupid heart loves a challenge even when his mouth complains.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam gets your rhythm faster than most people, which makes the fake relationship feel oddly comfortable.
เนเฃญ โญ you donโt do conventional romance well, even fake. sam doesnโt mind as much as expected. he follows your logic, adds to your weird little cover story, and somehow the two of you become the most believable couple in the room because thereโs no performance pressure. just quiet understanding, dry comments, and a shared braincell doing something suspiciously intimate.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ you make the fake romance feel tender, and dean immediately starts using jokes as emotional self-defense.
เนเฃญ โญ you lean into the role with sweetness, and dean does not know what to do with that. he can handle flirting. he can handle teasing. he cannot handle you looking at him like he matters while calling him your boyfriend for a cover. the case works because people believe you adore him. the problem is, by the end, dean is starting to believe it too, and that terrifies him more than the monster.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ sam tries to keep it fake, but you bring out the tenderness he usually keeps locked away.
เนเฃญ โญ with you, fake dating turns soft almost immediately. lingering looks, quiet check-ins, hands held a second longer than necessary. sam knows itโs for the case, but you have a way of making pretend feelings feel safe enough to touch. by the time itโs over, heโs gentle in a way that gives him away. he thanks you for the help, then looks at you like the fake part was the thing he liked least.
So let me know if this may be of interest to you but I have a lot of medical bills and expenses these past few weeks that are legit killing me so I was wondering if personalized edits with a fic or making a ship x reader drabbles would be something people would be interested in. Iโd set it up somewhere like Venmo or if anyone has a better method we can do that. This is an idea inspired by @wendichester โs astrology readings and Iโd be happy to do supernatural or any other fandom I have knowledge in. I can try other ones but I donโt want to disappoint if I donโt know all the lore or the character LOL. You can either dm me with the ideas youโd like to see or submit it through asks. Maybe Iโll even make a google survey link, whatever is easiest. Iโd charge maybe between $3-5 depending on how complicated or long it turns out. Hope this isnโt stupid as we all are struggling rn Iโm sure โค๏ธ lots of love yโall just thought this was a cute idea!!
you are such a good writer!!! How did you grow your skill in writing? ๐
oh baby ๐ฅบ๐ฉท thank you so much!! iโve replied to something similar before, but honestly, i think writing is the same as any other skill: you get better by doing it. over and over and over again.
i started writing when i was really little, mostly as a way to cope with emotions i didnโt know how to handle yet. the first thing i actually have proof of writing is from when i was around ten or eleven and my mom had been given two years to live. (sheโs fine now though!!) but little me was having a really hard time processing it, so i wrote a little story down on a piece of paper in the grossest handwriting imaginable ๐ she still keeps it in her wallet
and i think thatโs always been what writing is for me. a place to put feelings when they get too loud. somewhere to turn when i need comfort, or clarity, or just a little escape
practice matters, of course. reading helps. writing helps. editing your own work and figuring out what sounds right to you helps. but i also think you have to love it. and i really, really do. i love dancing. i love singing. i love playing padel. but writing is always the thing i come back to. itโs my comfort, every single time ๐ฅน๐ฉท
just wanted to say, I really enjoy your winchester zodiac posts, I have so much fun reading them :)
Also side note: I'm not too great at all the astrology stuff, it is the sun sign you refer to or not? I'm not sure haha
Anyways, have a great day/night/whatever it is for you :)
hi baby!! ๐ฉท iโm so glad youโve been enjoying the zodiac posts!! theyโre honestly so much fun to make eheh
and yes!! for those posts, iโm referring to your sun sign. thatโs the main zodiac sign people usually mean when they ask what your sign is. itโs super easy to find out too: just google your date of birth + โzodiac signโ and it should pop right up.
hope you have the loveliest day/night too, sweets ๐
hi lovely! When requests are open again, would you consider writing something about cardiophile Sam x reader? Absolutely no rush, I'm just asking since I'm not sure if this is too much especially if ur not familiar with it (:
hi sweets!! ๐ i think it would really depend on the specific idea and how you wanted it handled. demon blood!sam? sure! i can definitely see the connection there. the heightened senses, the intensity, the way that version of sam gets a little darker and more obsessive... i could work with that.
like iโve said before, iโm open to writing most things as long as i can genuinely picture the character being into it / acting that way. so when requests reopen, feel free to send the full idea and iโll see if it feels right for sam ๐
headcanons of established relationship between Dean and badass!reader whoโs just like him and can hold her own against him
โ๏ฝก ห dean winchester x badass!reader headcanons
the kind of relationship where love sounds suspiciously similar to a challenge and foreplay is arguing over who got the higher body count on a hunt ๐
notes หห๐ขึดเป ึดโเป consider supporting my work .แ
๐ dean falls for you because you donโt fold around him.
you donโt get intimidated by the attitude, the smirking, the reputation.
first time he mouths off? you mouth off harder.
deanโs standing there expecting annoyance, maybe offense.
instead youโre looking at him with this sharp little grin that says try me.
oh, heโs done for.
๐ your fights are legendary.
not toxic. not cruel. just loud, competitive, emotionally constipated hunter nonsense.
dean slams a weapon onto the table. you slam one down harder.
sam has absolutely walked into the bunker kitchen, heard both of you arguing over something stupid, and immediately turned around.
๐ dean secretly loves when you win against him.
pin him during sparring? his brain short-circuits a little.
patch yourself up after a hunt without complaining? he stares.
pull a knife on a monster before he even reacts? dean looks genuinely impressed.
โremind me never to piss you off,โ he says, smiling like he absolutely plans to do it.
๐ you steal each otherโs moves constantly.
dean teaches you dirty fighting tricks.
you teach him smarter ones.
eventually hunts start looking ridiculous because you move together so naturally itโs almost unfair to the monsters.
๐ thereโs a mutual respect underneath everything.
dean never treats you as fragile.
never talks down to you.
and because you can hold your own, he actually relaxes around you more than he does with most people.
he trusts you. fully.
thatโs rare for him.
๐ the flirting is unbearable.
sarcastic comments across motel rooms.
betting on stupid things.
dean leaning against the impala watching you clean blood off your knuckles with this look in his eyes thatโs half affection, half holy shit.
๐ you call him on his bullshit.
thatโs part of why he loves you.
you notice when heโs spiraling before he admits it.
you refuse to let him self-destruct quietly.
and dean hates it a little because nobodyโs supposed to see through him that easily.
๐ physical affection is rough around the edges.
shoulder bumps.
playful shoving.
dean grabbing your wrist when you walk past just to pull you into him for a second.
kisses that start with smirking and end with someone breathless against the wall.
๐ dean gets possessive in a quieter way with you.
not because he doubts you.
honestly, heโs seen you nearly break a vampireโs jaw with a tire iron. he knows youโre fine.
itโs more that he hates watching danger get close to you.
because loving someone this much already scares him enough.
๐ everyone else notices the difference in him.
he laughs easier around you.
sleeps better.
looks less alone.
even when youโre both covered in blood and arguing over directions.
๐ and the biggest thing?
dean never has to carry everything by himself anymore.
you grab the weight with both hands before he can even ask.
and somewhere along the way, that becomes his favorite part of loving you.
๊. all works ; writing guidelines ; writing schedule.
yes, absolutely!! ๐ฉท smut commissions are available for sam and dean. you can check my ko-fi page for all the details, including the instructions, doโs and donโts before ordering โ๐ป๐ค
summary หห๐ขึดเปึด you can survive hunting beside dean winchester; whatโs harder is surviving the slow, unbearable heartbreak of almost being loved by him.
pairing หห๐ขึดเปึด dean winchester x chubby!oc ( f )
wordcount หห๐ขึดเปึด 3580 genre หห๐ขึดเปึด angsty fluff
warnings หห๐ขึดเปึด mutual pining, friends to lovers, body-image insecurity, slight age gap, jealousy, mention of deanโs casual flirting and past hookups, emotional avoidance, roadside argument, dean winchesterโs spectacularly poor self-worth, crying, comfort, kissing, soft ending!!
notes หห๐ขึดเป ึดโเป this is my very first commission for the lovely @croatcan and god damn is it special! ๐ฅน i think it turned out lovely, so i hope you enjoy reading this ๐ฉท
หห๐ขึดเป ึด request your fanfic โเป consider supporting my work .แ
the problem is that dean winchester touches you almost as if heโs forgotten youโre not his.
itโs never enough to call him out on. thatโs the clever part, whether he intends it to or not. his palm settles against the small of your back when he guides you through a crowded bar, warm and broad through the thin fabric of your shirt, but itโs gone before you can turn the moment into anything more dangerous. his knee presses against yours beneath diner tables because he always takes up too much room. he drapes his arm around your shoulders when the three of you are walking back to the impala after a hunt, pulling you close enough that your hip bumps against his side whenever you take a step. and he calls you kid when you elbow him for it.
none of it means anything. thatโs what you tell yourself.
dean is dean. he flirts when heโs bored, when heโs nervous, when the waitress is pretty, when the bartender has long legs and a low-cut shirt. the women he notices are always beautiful in that uncomplicated, glossy sort of way. slim waists. narrow hips. the effortless confidence of somebody who knows exactly what happens when a guy like him looks across a room and smiles at them.
you know what happens, too. youโve been hunting with the brothers long enough to see the pattern.
and the harsh truth is that it shouldnโt bother you. you know the softness of your stomach doesnโt make you less capable of putting a bullet through a moving target. you know your thighs are strong enough to carry you through a graveyard at a sprint, your arms steady enough to haul sam upright when something throws him into a wall. you love your tattoos. you like the curve of your waist and the way your brown hair falls around your face when you stop trying to tame it. you donโt need to become smaller to deserve anything.
it would be easier if he stopped touching you. it would be easier if you wanted him less.
โitโs gonna open up again if you keep glaring at it that hard.โ deanโs voice brings you back to the motel room.ย
rain taps steadily against the window, turning the parking lot outside into a blur of wet pavement and neon. the room smells faintly of bleach, damp denim, and the pizza sam has abandoned on the small table beside an open laptop. sam is in the shower, washing graveyard dirt out of his hair while you sit on the floor between deanโs knees at the edge of one bed.ย
his flannel is open. the black t-shirt underneath is pushed up far enough to expose the shallow gash along his ribs, angry and red but no longer bleeding. youโve cleaned it carefully. all that remains is the bandage, which would be easier to apply if dean would stop watching your face.
โiโm not glaring,โ you mutter.
โyouโve got the murder eyes.โ
โthese are my regular eyes.โ
his mouth twitches. โnah. regular ones are bigger. cuter.โ
you press the adhesive strip down harder than necessary.
dean sucks air through his teeth. โjesus, annie.โ
โsorry.โ you are not. still, the brief sting of guilt settles uncomfortably beneath your ribs when he lifts one hand and curls his fingers loosely around your wrist.ย
his thumb brushes your pulse once, absent and affectionate, as if this is not slowly hollowing you out from the inside. his expression changes when you pull away. not dramatically, though. dean is too practiced for that. he drops his hand and reaches for the hem of his shirt, tugging it back into place with a shrug that is almost convincing.
โall fixed,โ you say, standing before he can find another reason to keep you close.
his gaze follows you. โyou okay?โ
โfine.โ
โyouโve been saying that a lot lately.โ
you busy yourself with the first-aid kit. the gauze packet refuses to slide into the side compartment properly. you try again, jaw tight. โprobably because iโm fine a lot lately.โ
โright.โ the answer is dry enough to scrape.
youโve been trying to put space between you for three weeks. itโs not working particularly well because hunting doesnโt offer much room for distance. there are still hours folded into the impala beside him, cramped motel rooms, diner booths.ย
but youโve stopped curling against his side on the couch when sam puts on documentaries none of you are truly watching. you sit in the back seat more often. you avoid the kitchen when dean cooks breakfast in his robe, bare-legged and half-awake, because he always presses a kiss to the crown of your head when he reaches over you for the coffee grounds.
itโs embarrassing how badly you miss something you never had.
โwe should get a drink,โ dean says.
you glance at him. โwe should sleep.โ
โwe killed a nest of vamps in a barn that smelled worse than the trunk after that rugaru in ohio. we earned a drink.โ
the bathroom door opens before you can argue. sam steps out with damp hair and a towel draped around his shoulders, his eyes moving between you and dean with the cautious awareness of somebody who knows exactly what youโre both feeling and keeping bottled down.
โdrink?โ dean asks him.
sam looks at you for half a second too long. โiโm going to finish the research.โ
โnerd.โ
โsomebody has to make sure there isnโt a second nest.โ
โannie?โ
you should say no. youโre tired, and your nerves feel worn thin beneath your skin. sitting in a bar with dean is an exercise in pretending you donโt watch him without meaning to.ย
instead, you sigh. โone drink.โ
his smile comes too easily, bright enough to make your chest hurt. โthatโs my girl.โ
itโs a thoughtless phrase. dean is already grabbing his jacket when he says it. he doesnโt even notice how still you become.
but sam does. his gaze catches yours over deanโs shoulder, sympathetic in a way you cannot bear to acknowledge, so you look down and zip the first-aid kit closed.
the bar is attached to the motel, a narrow room with battered tables, a glowing jukebox, and the sort of carpet that has survived several decades through sheer stubbornness. a baseball game plays silently on the television above the liquor shelves. dean orders whiskey. you ask for a beer and slide onto a stool with one empty seat between you, a small act of self-preservation that lasts approximately two minutes before dean moves closer when somebody needs to squeeze past. he doesnโt move away again.
you talk about nothing. thatโs one of the worst parts. itโs easy with him. even now. you make dean laugh so abruptly he nearly chokes on his whiskey, and the warm, pleased feeling in your chest arrives before you can stop it.
โyouโre trouble,โ he says.
โiโm delightful.โ
โyouโre a pain in my ass.โ
โand yet you keep me around.โ
โsomebodyโs gotta supervise you, kid.โ
the nickname comes softer than it should be, threaded through with fondness. dean shifts closer and drops his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side with an ease that feels practiced. his fingers rest against your upper arm. his thumb moves once over the fabric of your shirt.
you know you should push him away. instead, you let yourself have it. just for a minute.ย
the bartender appears in front of you with deanโs second whiskey. sheโs pretty, with sleek blonde hair and a smile that lingers when she places the glass down. her eyes move toward deanโs arm around your shoulders before returning to his face.
โanything else for you two?โ she asks.
โthink weโre good,โ dean says.
she smiles. โyour girlfriend keeping you out of trouble tonight?โ
it should be nothing. a stranger making an easy assumption. a moment dean could laugh off in a dozen harmless ways. he could remove his arm. he could change the subject.ย
instead, his body tenses beside yours.
โannie?โ his laugh comes out uneven. โnah. she knows better than to make that mistake.โ
the bartender gives him a smile, already turning away.
deanโs arm remains around you.
thatโs what breaks something open. the weight of his hand still resting comfortably against your arm, the warmth of him wrapped around you while he says it. itโs the easy, careless expectation that youโll sit here and take whatever scraps he gives you because you always have.
you move before you think better of it, shoving his arm off your shoulders as you stand.
his expression changes immediately. โheyโโ
โiโm going back to the room.โ
โwhat? hang on.โ
you walk out before your face can betray you. rain catches in your hair as soon as you step beyond the awning. the motel sign flickers overhead, buzzing pink and blue against the dark.
โannabella.โ the use of your full name follows you into the parking lot.
you donโt stop.
โcome on,โ dean calls, closer now. โwould you slow down for a second?โ
you should go to the motel room. sam is there. the door is less than thirty feet away, warm light visible behind the curtains. but the thought of walking in and seeing the pity on samโs face makes your stomach turn, so you keep moving, passing the impala and reaching the edge of the lot.
โwhere the hell are you going?โ
โfor a walk.โ
โin the rain? itโs already dark!โ
โi need air.โ
โannie, get back here.โ
you turn then, rain sliding down your cheeks, anger burning hot enough to overpower the ache lodged beneath it. โstop telling me what to do.โ
dean freezes, even if for a second. then, his jaw tightens, his fear disguising itself as irritation so quickly you mightโve missed it if you didnโt know him this well.
โfine,โ he says. โyou want air? take a minute. but youโre not walking down some dark road alone in the middle of nowhere.โ
โjust leave me the hell alone, dean.โ
deanโs face closes in that familiar, infuriating way. the wall comes up. he stands beneath the motel lights with rain darkening the shoulders of his jacket.
you walk away.
the road is nearly empty, slick with rain and edged by wet grass. you fold your arms across your chest and keep moving, breathing through the pressure building behind your eyes, furious with him and with yourself and with every stupid little moment you have held too close.
you make it less than half a mile.
the roar of the impala reaches you first. headlights sweep across the road before the car pulls sharply onto the shoulder ahead of you, tires spitting water across the gravel. the driverโs door opens almost before the engine cuts.
โget in the car.โ
you stop walking. โno.โ
โannabella.โ
โi said no.โ
his hands flex uselessly at his sides. โthen talk to me.โ
โthereโs nothing to talk about.โ
โbullshit.โ
โgo away, dean.โ
โnot happening.โ
โyou canโt order me into the car because you feel guilty.โ
โguilty? this isnโtโโ he breaks off, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. his eyes are wide and bright beneath the passing sweep of another carโs headlights. โi donโt know what the hell just happened back there.โ
a laugh catches painfully in your throat. โof course you donโt.โ
โso tell me.โ
you stare at him. dean has always been able to do this, somehow. he digs and digs until the truth is bleeding between your teeth, then acts surprised that it has a shape. you are exhausted. too tired to make it prettier for him. too tired to protect him from a feeling he has been carelessly feeding for months.
โiโm in love with you.โย
you hate how much it hurts that he stills. you hate that some small, humiliating part of you has waited for this exact second anyway, always searching for proof that you might have misunderstood him. but he says nothing, and the silence is unbearable.
you nod once, swallowing hard. โyeah. thatโs what happened back there.โ
โannieโโ
โi know.โ your voice cracks. you look away, blinking against the rain. โi know you donโt feel the same way. i am not asking you to. i thought i could handle it. i thought it would pass if i stopped being stupid about every little thing you do, but you keepโโ
you press the heel of your hand against your chest, frustrated by the tears slipping free despite your best efforts.
โyou keep touching me as if iโm yours. you keep looking at me as if there is something here. you pull me into you, and you call me your girl, and then you flirt with women who look nothing like me because thatโs what you actually want. thatโs fine. it is. youโre allowed to want whatever you want. but i canโt keep standing beside you while you remind me that iโm not it.โ
โno.โ the word comes out rough.
you shake your head. โiโm tired, dean.โ
โlistenโโ
โiโm tired of trying to be grateful for whatever version of you i get. iโm tired of feeling pathetic every time you put your hand on me and i let myself think about what it would feel like if you meant it. i never wanted to make this your problem, but i canโt do it anymore.โ your breath shudders. โi canโt keep hunting with you. i canโt keep living like this. i donโt want to see you again.โ
panic strips every trace of irritation from his face. โdonโt say that.โ
โdeanโโ
โdonโt.โ he moves toward you, then stops himself so abruptly it looks painful. his voice drops, ragged at the edges. โdonโt say youโre leaving.โ
you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. โwhat else am i supposed to do?โ
for one awful second, he only stares at you. then, dean winchester sinks to his knees on the wet roadside.
gravel crunches beneath his jeans. rain beads in his hair. he reaches for you carefully, both hands settling against your hips as if he needs something solid to hold on to, his fingers curving around the softness of your body without hesitation.
โdean, get up.โ
โno. listen to me.โ his voice breaks. โplease.โ
you look at him and his eyes are wet. maybe it is only the rain.
โyouโve got this wrong,โ he says, each word unsteady. โgod, annie, youโve got it so so wrong.โ his thumbs press lightly into your sides, grounding himself more than you. โi meant it every time i touched you. i mean it right now. you think youโre not what i want because you donโt look like some woman at a bar? sweetheart, i know exactly what you look like. i know how you fit against me. i know iโve spent months trying not to stare at your mouth whenever you smile. i know i think about putting my hands right here so often it makes me feel sixteen and stupid.โ
the softness of it nearly ruins you.
โthen why?โ you whisper. โwhy would you say that?โ
his expression folds inward. โbecause iโm a coward.โ
you shake your head automatically, but dean doesnโt let you rescue him from it.
โi know how to lose people,โ he says. โiโm good at that. i know how to want something for one night and walk away before i screw it up. but you love people with your whole damn body, annabella. you hold on. you make space. you keep showing up.โ his grip turns gentler. โand i wanted all of it. i wanted you so bad i convinced myself the decent thing was leaving it alone, because you deserve better than getting stuck with me.โ
there it isโthe ugliest, most familiar part of him. the piece that believes love is another weapon he might mishandle if he lets himself hold it too tightly.
โdean,โ you whisper.
โbut i feel it too.โ
the words stop you cold.ย
his hands tighten around your hips, enough to keep you there while his voice turns rougher with every breath. he looks terrified. not of the rain, or the roadside, or the possibility of something lurking beyond the dark line of trees. of you. of what heโs saying and what happens after he canโt take it back.
โi love you too, annabella.โ his throat works around the words. โso damn much it scares the hell outta me.โ
you stare down at him, unable to move.
โyou think i donโt know what iโm doing when i touch you? you think i donโt notice every time you lean into me, or when you fall asleep on my shoulder, or when you wrap your arms around me after a hunt and hold on a little tighter because you know i need it?โ his eyes search your face desperately. โi notice everything. i remember everything. thatโs the problem.โ
rain slides down the sharp line of his cheek. his voice lowers.
โpeople close to me get hurt.โ
โdeanโโ
โthey do.โ he shakes his head before you can soften it for him. โand i canโtโannie, i canโt be the reason something happens to you. i canโt get you killed because i got greedy and wanted something good for myself. i canโt watch you bleed because some monster figures out exactly where to stick the knife.โ his breath catches, and for a second, he has to look away. โiโd die if something happened to you. i would lose my damn mind.โ
your chest aches so fiercely that breathing feels strange.
โsomething could happen to me anyway,โ you say quietly. โiโm a hunter.โ
โyeah, well, i hate that too.โ
a wet, startled laugh slips out before you can stop it. deanโs gaze snaps back to your face. something fragile loosens in his expression when he hears it, the faintest curve tugging at his mouth despite the fear still sitting plainly in his eyes.
โthere she is,โ he murmurs.
your fingers find his wrists. his pulse beats hard beneath your touch.
โyou donโt get to decide what risks iโm allowed to take,โ you tell him. โnot for me. and you donโt get to love me halfway because youโre scared of what happens if you let yourself have it.โ
his face crumples for half a second before he catches himself. โi know,โ he says. โiโm sorry.โ
you believe him. thatโs the dangerous thing. you believe every messy, frightened word of it.
dean rises slowly from the gravel, his hands sliding around your waist as he stands. he stays close when he reaches his full height, close enough that the warmth of his body cuts through the rain, close enough that his forehead nearly touches yours.
โiโm probably gonna screw this up,โ he whispers.
โprobably.โ
his mouth twitches. โlittle harsh.โ
โyou earned that.โ
โyeah.โ his thumb brushes your side. โfair.โ
then his gaze drops to your mouth, and all the teasing drains out of him.
โannie,โ he says softly.
dean cups your face with one hand and draws you against him with the other, his mouth warm and careful for all of two seconds before months of restraint crack open between you. the kiss turns deeper, needier, rain cold against your cheeks while his body presses solidly into yours. thereโs nothing uncertain in the way he holds you. nothing apologetic. his palm spans the curve of your waist as if he has wanted to know the shape of you beneath his hands for far too long.
when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. both of you are breathing too hard.
โyouโre freezing,โ he murmurs.
โwhose fault is that?โ
โyours, obviously. walking dramatically into the rain. real chick-flick behavior.โ
you stare at him.
โwhat?โ he gives you a toothy smile. โtoo soon?โ
a laugh breaks out of you, shaky and helpless, and dean smiles properly this time.ย
โsay you wonโt leave.โ the words leave his lips carefully. thereโs no demand in his tone. no typical dean winchester stubbornness. just a little more vulnerability that heโs willing himself to show because he cannot physically move without making sure.ย
you nod once. โiโm staying.โย
relief softens his entire face. he kisses the corner of your mouth before bending suddenly and sliding one arm behind your knees.
โdean!โ
he lifts you easily against his chest.
you grab his shoulders, startled laughter spilling out of you. โwhat the hell are you doing?!โ
โsaving you from pneumonia.โ
โput me down.โ
โnope.โ
โdean!โ
he carries you back toward the impala, holding you securely against him while your arms circle his neck. by the time he reaches the passenger side, your anger has softened into something tender and sore. not gone. not forgotten. but no longer yours to carry alone.
dean lowers you carefully onto your feet and opens the door.
โseat,โ he says, pointing inside with a stern expression that lasts less than a second. โnow.โ
you roll your eyes as you climb in. โbossy.โ
โyeah, yeah.โ
he rounds the hood and slides behind the wheel, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his jacket. the engine rumbles to life. for a moment, neither of you speaks.
then dean reaches across the space between you and leaves his hand resting palm-up beside the gearshift. an offering. you look at it, then lace your fingers through his. his grip closes around yours gently.
dean pulls back onto the road with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours between you, as if heโs still afraid you might disappear the second he lets go.
๊. all works ; writing guidelines ; writing schedule.
When the London season begins, you expect nothing more than balls, whispers, and carefully arranged futuresโuntil the Winchester brothers arrive. Dean is reckless charm wrapped in duty, moving through society as if daring it to catch him; Sam is quiet, brilliant, and searching for something real beneath the performance.
You are neither diamond nor spectacle, only observant, restless, and drawn toward both. One connection feels like dawn, full of promise; the other burns like dusk, dangerous and irresistible.
As Lady Wendichester watches and the season tightens its grip, love divides, secrets loom, and London holds its breathโbecause not every heart survives the space between morning and night.
issue the first โ on the commencement of the season
issue the second โ on the matter of the most inconvenient duke
issue the third โ on the most observant evening at druny lane
issue the forth โ on loose pockets and looser manners
issue the fifth โ on the weight of a title and the lightness of a promise
issue the sixth โ on dukes, daughters, and the art of rehearsed regret
issue the seventh โ on brothers, balls, and the dangerous arithmetic of a dance
issue the eight โ on the speed with which gentlemen discover their devotion
issue the nineth โ on withered ambitions and royal blessings
one โก of stars and candlelight
two โก between applause and afterhours
three โก the almost of it
four โก allowance and amends
five โก the price of the first light
six โก the name on the dance card
seven โก the weight of two promises
eight โก a duke's protection
nine โก a love of dawn and dusk
the fact that you had to physically launch yourself out of bed and pace around the room?? that is the exact kind of emotional damage i aspire to cause, i wonโt lie ๐ and โheart torn out and put back in over and overโ is such an insane compliment for this story specifically because thatโs really what writing it felt like too. bridgerton yearning mixed with supernatural emotional constipation was always going to be a dangerous combination ๐ญ
thank you for reading, recommending it, and trusting me with your heart, sweets. love you!! ๐ฉทโญ๏ธ
what are some kinks you'd absolutely never write abt ??
hi sweets!! i think most of my hard noโs are already listed in my guidelines: noncon, any form of ageplay or minors in nsfw scenarios, incest (do not ask me for wincest, i will lose my damn mind), racism, sexual assault, pedophilia, animal-hybrid readers, and anything that feels completely out of character.
but those arenโt all exactly kinks, so honestly? it really depends on the request. there are some things i might be totally fine writing for one character but not another, just because i canโt picture them being into it or because it wouldnโt feel natural in the story. you can always send me a message/ask with the kink(s) you have in mind and iโll let you know if iโm comfortable writing it / if i think it works for the character ๐ฉท
หโโง๊ฐแ dean winchester โ @spectralgalaxygauntlet โ sam winchester เป๊ฑ โงโห
๊. the beginning,
โง who you are in the supernatural world .แ
stephanie, you feel like someone who gets pulled into the supernatural universe because youโre too perceptive for your own good. with your libra sun, libra mercury, libra jupiter, pisces rising, and aries moon, you have this mix of softness, social intelligence, emotional immediacy, and quiet chaos under the surface.
you might start as a civilian, but not the helpless kindโmore like someone who notices tension in a room before anyone says a word, clocks when people are lying, and can tell something is โoffโ even when the facts donโt line up yet.
your pisces rising gives you that almost dreamy, sensitive first impression, but your aries moon + lilith in aries means there is absolutely a bite under it. you may come across gentle, maybe even a little hard to read at first, but once something triggers your protective instinct, youโre not sitting there politely waiting for permission.
in the supernatural world, i can see you as someone who gets involved through a case connected to a friend, coworker, or communityโsomething unjust enough that your libra placements go, nope, that is not balanced, fix it now, and your aries moon is already grabbing the metaphorical baseball bat.
โง first meeting + first impression
you meet dean because heโs working a case and you are already inconveniently involved. probably not because you wanted danger, but because you refused to ignore something that everyone else kept dismissing. deanโs first impression of you is that youโre softer-looking than your actual personality. your pisces rising gives him that initial โokay, sheโs sweet, maybe overwhelmedโ read, and then five minutes later your aries moon comes out and youโre arguing with him because his plan is stupid, reckless, or both. he is immediately entertained. unfortunately for everyone, he loves when someone can push back.
samโs first impression of you is quieter and more careful. he notices your sensitivity first, but he doesnโt mistake it for weakness. with his virgo rising and your venus in virgo, he catches the practical details: how youโre trying to make sense of the situation, how you notice what needs doing, how you probably ask very specific questions instead of just panicking. he also picks up on the neurodivergent way your attention may moveโthe way you might hyperfocus on one detail, miss another, then suddenly connect everything in a way that makes too much sense. his first thought is not โsheโs too muchโ. itโs more like, oh, sheโs processing this differently, but she is absolutely processing it.
โง the friendship dynamic
with dean, the friendship has instant spark because your libra sun works beautifully with his aquarius sun, and your aries moon plays really well with his sagittarius moon. thereโs banter, teasing, quick reactions, and this slightly competitive rhythm where he pushes, you push back, and suddenly youโre both enjoying the argument more than either of you should. dean likes that youโre not as delicate as you first seem. he likes that you can be kind and still have a temper, soft and still stubborn, pretty socially aware but not afraid to get sharp when something matters. the issue is that he can also trigger you by being dismissive when he thinks heโs being protective, especially because your libra placements want fairness and your aries moon hates being handled.
with sam, the friendship grows more slowly, but it has more practical steadiness. your venus in virgo responds well to his virgo rising and grounded taurus nature, so he feels easier to trust with details, routines, planning, and emotional patience. he doesnโt always match your emotional speed, because your aries moon reacts fast while his capricorn moon processes slowly, but he does take you seriously.
dean makes you feel seen in motion. sam makes you feel understood in structure. both matter, but in very different ways.
โง quirks + fun things
โ dean absolutely starts calling you โtroubleโ after watching you look sweet for exactly thirty seconds before verbally tearing apart his plan.
โ sam becomes the one who quietly explains things in a way that actually works for your brain instead of making you feel talked down to.
โ both of them learn that when you go quiet, it does not always mean youโre calmโsometimes it means your aries moon is loading. dangerously.
๊. something more,
โง are you compatible .แฃ first steps .แฃ
with dean, there is very obvious chemistry. your libra sun and his aquarius sun connect easily, and your aries moon with his sagittarius moon creates this fast, fiery emotional rhythm. it feels exciting. immediate. kind of stupid in the way attraction often is, lovingly. he would probably initiate first, because dean is the one more likely to turn tension into action before thinking through the consequences. but long-term, your venus in virgo may struggle with his venus in sagittarius, because you want love that proves itself in practical, thoughtful, consistent ways, while he tends to love through heat, presence, protection, and emotional chaos disguised as confidence.
with sam, the romantic compatibility is less explosive at first, but more sustainable. your venus in virgo fits beautifully with his earthy chartโtaurus sun, taurus mars, virgo rising, capricorn moonโbecause he naturally understands devotion through small acts, loyalty, and showing up. the shift with sam would be slower and probably mutual, though you might notice it first. youโd start realizing that he remembers things about you, adjusts to you, makes space for you, and suddenly itโs like... oh no. feelings. inconvenient. horrible. cute.
โง the relationship dynamic
with dean, the relationship would be passionate, funny, protective, and occasionally exhausting. he brings out your boldness, your humor, your willingness to be a little reckless when you feel safe enough, and you bring out a softer kind of attentiveness in him because your pisces rising and libra sun make you emotionally tuned-in even when youโre pretending not to care. but the clashes would be real. your mars in scorpio wants depth, honesty, emotional truth, and loyalty that feels almost bone-deep, while his mars in aquarius can detach when things get too intense. that could make you feel shut out, especially if youโre already struggling to explain what you need without sounding โtoo muchโ.
with sam, the relationship is steadier and more emotionally useful, but not frictionless. his groundedness helps your nervous system settle, and your libra placements soften his tendency to get serious and closed-off. affection would show up through routines: him checking in before you ask, you noticing when heโs overworked, both of you quietly becoming part of each otherโs daily rhythm. the challenge is emotional speed. you feel fast. he processes slow. you may want the issue addressed now, while he needs time to make sense of it. still, with sam, thereโs a stronger sense of we can work through this instead of why do i feel like iโm chasing clarity?
โง their favorite n worst version of you
deanโs favorite version of you, stephanie, is when you stop trying to soften your edges for other people. when your aries moon flashes through, when youโre funny and blunt and a little bossy because someone needs to say the obvious thing and apparently it has to be you. he likes your fire more than you might expect. his least favorite version is when you start acting like your needs are unreasonable, because he can tell when youโre trying to make yourself easier to love.
samโs favorite version of you is when your care becomes practical. when youโre helping, organizing, checking details, remembering something small, making the space better because you noticed what was missing. he loves the way your venus in virgo loves quietly but intentionally, and he would admire how much thought sits behind your actions. his least favorite version is when you become too hard on yourself, when the neurospicy parts of you feel inconvenient to you, or when you start measuring your worth by how well youโre functioning. he doesnโt see you as a problem to manage. he sees someone who has been managing too much alone.
โง fighting, hurting, making up
with dean, the damage would come from emotional inconsistency and pride. you both have strong reactive placementsโyour aries moon, his sagittarius moon, your mars in scorpio, his aquarius marsโso fights could start fast and turn sharp if nobody slows down. you might go intense and emotionally precise when hurt, while dean might deflect, joke, or pull back just enough to make you feel like youโre the only one taking the issue seriously. he would cause more damage long-term, not because he cares less, but because his avoidance could hit your deepest frustration: feeling like youโre trying to create fairness with someone who keeps dodging the conversation.
with sam, the damage is quieter. he might frustrate you by taking too long to open up, and you might overwhelm him if your aries moon demands immediate emotional movement before heโs ready. but sam is more emotionally mature in terms of follow-through. he may not always respond quickly, but he tries to understand.
making up with dean feels passionate but sometimes repetitive; making up with sam feels slower, calmer, and more likely to actually change the pattern.
๊. overall ใ with dean โธโธ.แโ 7.1 / 10 with sam โธโธ.แโ 8.6 / 10
stephanie, dean is the one with the sharper spark. heโd make you feel bold, desired, entertained, and very alive. thereโs real chemistry there, and he would absolutely be drawn to your mix of softness and fire. but sam is the better long-term match.
with dean, the connection is hotter, quicker, more playful, but also more likely to leave you wondering where you stand when emotions get complicated. with sam, itโs less dramatic at first, but it gives your chart more of what it actually needs: consistency, patience, respect, and practical devotion.
so, if weโre talking fantasy? dean makes a very strong argument. if weโre talking who would probably love you better in a real, daily, sustainable way? itโs sam.
๊. navigation ๐ห request your reading ; all readings ; support my work .แ
summary หห๐ขึดเปึด after sam leaves for stanford, dean shuts down so hard it feels like you lost him tooโand one bad joke in the impala finally makes you snap.
pairing หห๐ขึดเปึด dean winchester x reader ( gn )
wordcount หห๐ขึดเปึด 842 genre หห๐ขึดเปึด angsty
warnings หห๐ขึดเปึด heavy angst, abandonment feelings, grief over changing dynamics, emotional shutdown, argument, no clean resolution
notes หห๐ขึดเป ึดโเป consider supporting my work .แ
the impala is too quiet without sam.
thatโs the worst part, maybe. not the empty motel beds or the way dean stops ordering extra fries out of habit, or how every hunt feels a little more hollow now that there isnโt a second voice correcting research from the other side of a diner booth.
itโs the car. itโs the miles of road stretching ahead while dean drives with both hands on the wheel and says almost nothing, jaw set hard, music turned loud enough to pretend silence isnโt sitting between you with its knees drawn up.
before, it used to be you, dean, and sammy.
sam with his too-long legs shoved in the front seat, complaining about deanโs music, stealing your snacks when he thought you werenโt looking. dean calling him princess. you laughing until sam threatened to switch cars at the next gas station. stupid things. little things. the kind of things you donโt know are holding your life together until one person leaves and the other one starts acting as if anything soft has become a liability.
dean doesnโt joke with you anymore. not really. not the way he used to, with his mouth crooked and his eyes bright and all that ridiculous flirting tossed at you just to make you roll your eyes. he barely looks at you unless itโs about the case. location. weapons. salt. iron. exit points.
you miss sam so much it makes you angry, but missing dean when heโs right beside you feels worse.
so, yeahโby the time you pull up outside the old farmhouse, your face is probably doing something awful. dean notices. yet, he picks the worst possible thing to do with it.
โgee,โ he says, glancing over as he parks. โpoor ghost that has to face you tonight. we might not even need the salt rounds. your faceโll do all the work.โ
itโs meant to be nothing. a jab. a little scrap of the old dean, thrown badly into the air between you. but it lands wrong.
you turn your head slowly. โare you kidding me?โ
his eyebrows lift, already defensive. โwhat?โ
โdonโt what me.โ
โit was a joke.โ
โno, dean, it was you remembering how to speak to me for three seconds and choosing to be an asshole.โ
that wipes the almost-smirk off his face. good.
you hate that it feels good.
he looks out through the windshield at the farmhouse, all black windows and peeling paint, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. โwe have a job.โ
โwe always have a job.โ your voice comes out sharper than you expect, but youโre already opened up now, youโre already bleeding in the passenger seat, and there is no neat way to stop it. โthatโs the problem, right? thereโs always some house, some ghost, some excuse not to talk about the fact that sam left and you decided i had to lose both of you.โ
his face changes. just a fraction. but you see it.
โyou didnโt lose me,โ he says, too fast.
you laugh once, ugly and hurt. โdidnโt i?โ
โiโm sitting right here!โ
โno, youโre driving the car.โ your throat tightens, and you hate that part. hate the wobble. hate how young you sound. โyouโre loading guns and reading police reports and telling me to duck. youโre not here. you havenโt been here since he left!โ
dean turns toward you then, anger rising because anger is easierโitโs always easier for him. โwhat do you want me to say?โ
โanything,โ you snap. โliterally anything real.โ
โreal?โ he repeats, voice low. โyou want real?โ
โyeah, i do.โ
โsam walked out.โ
โsam went to school.โ
โhe left!โ dean bites out, and there it is, mean and raw and still not the whole truth. โhe left, and dadโs pissed, and everythingโs screwed, and i donโt have time to sit around holding hands and talking about feelings because people are dying.โ
you stare at him, chest heaving.
outside, the farmhouse waits. the job waits. everything always waits just long enough to take something else from you.
โi wasnโt asking you to hold my hand,โ you say quietly. too honest. too tired. โi was asking you not to disappear while sitting next to me.โ
dean flinches. then he looks away, swallowing hard, eyes fixed on the house as if the ghost inside is easier to face than you. maybe it is.
you sit there for a few seconds, the engine ticking softly, the cassette still playing low under the silence. neither of you moves for the weapons bag. neither of you apologizes.
finally, dean reaches for the keys and shuts the car off. โletโs go,โ he says, voice rough, smaller than before.
you nod, even though nothing is fixed, even though the empty seat still feels louder than both of you, even though you know this conversation is going to crawl into the space between your ribs and stay there.
you open your door before he can look at you again. and when you step out into the cold, you donโt wait for him to follow.
๊. all works ; writing guidelines ; writing schedule.
Could you maybe write Castiel x reader but like the reader smells really good due to their lotion (no specific scent just a lotion that smells really good) and like cas is just constantly smelling them maybe pawsibly could just be fluff but maybe some smut PAWSIBLY.
โ๏ฝก ห close enough to notice
summary หห๐ขึดเปึด castiel keeps finding excuses to stand near you, and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize itโs because of your lotion.
pairing หห๐ขึดเปึด castiel x reader ( gn )
wordcount หห๐ขึดเปึด 546 genre หห๐ขึดเปึด fluff
warnings หห๐ขึดเปึด castiel being unintentionally intense, scent-related affection, mild teasing
notes หห๐ขึดเป ึดโเป consider supporting my work .แ
the first time castiel does it, you think itโs an accident.
youโre in the bunker kitchen, half-asleep and waiting for your coffee to become strong enough to fix your mood, when he steps beside you and pauses. just like that. in that same typical castiel-weirdness of his.
you glance at him over your mug. โcas?โ
his eyes flick to yours, very serious. โyes?โ
โyou okay?โ
โyes.โ
you wait for him to say something else. he says nothing else.
then he leans, just slightly, closer to your shoulder.
you blink. โare you smelling me?โ
castiel straightens so fast it would be funny if his face werenโt completely sincere. โno.โ a beat. โyes.โ
you stare at him.
he looks back, unashamed and somehow a little embarrassed, which is a complicated thing to manage with one face. โyou smell pleasant,โ he explains.
your brain goes wonderfully blank. โoh.โ
โnot in an alarming way.โ
โgreat,โ you say, trying not to laugh. โlove that clarification.โ
after that, you start noticing it: he sits beside you during research even when there are six empty chairs. he appears in doorways when you pass, head tilting faintly as if heโs caught some invisible thread of you in the air. once, while you were reaching for a book on a high shelf, he stepped behind you to get it first, and when his sleeve brushed your arm, he went very still.
you turned slowly, then. โcas.โ
โi was assisting.โ
โyou were inhaling.โ
his mouth parts. closes. โboth things can be true.โ
that gets you. you laugh, soft and helpless, and his expression gentles in response, like the sound is something he wants to keep but doesnโt know where to put.
one night, youโre sitting on the edge of your bed, rubbing lotion into your hands because the bunker air dries your skin out terribly. castiel stands near the doorway, watching with that quiet intensity that used to unsettle you before you learned it usually just means heโs curious. or worried. or both.
โitโs this, isnโt it?โ you ask, holding up the bottle.
he steps closer. โyes.โ
โyou couldโve just said you liked it.โ
โi did.โ
โyou said i smelled pleasant and not alarming.โ
โthat was accurate.โ
you bite your lip to hide your smile, but it doesnโt work.
he notices. of course he does. and his gaze drops to your hands, then returns to your face, softer now. โmay i?โ
your chest gives a tiny, traitorous flip. โsmell my hands?โ
โyes.โ
you should tease him. really, you should. instead, you offer him one.
castiel takes it carefully, his fingers cool at first, then warmer where they settle around yours. he bends over your hand, not kissing itโ-just close enough that his breath brushes your knuckles, slow and reverent in a way that makes your stomach twist.
oh. thatโs unfair. โcas,โ you say, quieter.
he lifts his eyes. โis this uncomfortable?โ
you swallow. โno,โ you admit. too honest. โthatโs kind of the problem.โ
something shifts in his face, small but visible, like heโs filing that away with great care.
he doesnโt let go immediately. neither do you. and when his thumb moves once across the back of your hand, barely there, you realize he isnโt there just to smell the lotion anymore. maybe he never was.
๊. all works ; writing guidelines ; writing schedule.
hello! i would love to commission you for a fic but your kofi states that you would only write for char x reader; would you ever consider writing for char x char? ive been dying for a samjess fic and I absolutely adore your writing style so i thought id try my luck and ask :) get better soon angel!
hii sweet thing!! first of all, thank you for the get-well wishes ๐ฅบ๐ฉท
and yes, absolutely!! i only listed char x reader because i figured thatโs what most people would be looking for, but iโm totally open to writing char x char too (especially jess because sheโs such a sweetheart). if youโd like a samjess fic, just fill out the form as usual and refer to the โreaderโ as jess when adding the details, and iโll know exactly what you mean ๐
Hii!! I love your stuff, so definitely get better - but don't force yourself to write while sick! Take care of yourself first!
But once you do get better, as long as you keep writing Sam Winchester content, whatever it might be, I'll be one happy anon ๐โค๏ธ
aw baby ๐ค thank you so much, thatโs really sweet. iโm trying to behave and actually let myself rest instead of opening my laptop every five minutes like a gremlin (which is exactly where i am rn) ๐ญ
sam winchester content will absolutely continue. i could never abandon my big sad-eyed boy or the people spiritually depending on him ๐คญ๐ฉท
๊. navigation ๐ห get your compatibility reading ; support my work .แ
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ insists on sharing
เนเฃญ โญ he says heโs not sleeping on the floor because you โcanโt behave,โ which is rich coming from the man already smirking at you from the edge of the mattress. you make it a challenge, obviously. who takes up more space, who moves first, who can pretend not to notice the otherโs leg brushing theirs. dean acts annoyed, but he is absolutely enjoying the tension. by morning, youโre both still on opposite sides of the bed out of sheer stubbornness, backs turned, painfully awake.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ prefers the couch, but you make him share
เนเฃญ โญ he does not trust your restless fire in a shared bed, mostly because he knows youโll make it weird on purpose. sam tries to be polite about it. too polite, actually. he says you should take the bed, heโll be fine on the couch, and you immediately call him dramatic because his knees are practically hanging off the end. he lasts twenty minutes before you tell him to stop being stupid and get in the bed. he does. tense as a corpse. adorable.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ offers you the bed, then ends up sneaking next to you
เนเฃญ โญ he tries to be noble for approximately five minutes before realizing the couch is awful and you look way too comfortable. you donโt make a big thing of it, which is exactly why he relaxes. you just lift the blanket slightly, sleepy and unbothered, and dean grumbles his way into the bed like this wasnโt what he wanted the whole time. youโre warm, steady, not fidgety. by morning, heโs stolen half your pillow and refuses to acknowledge it.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ wants to share the bed
เนเฃญ โญ youโre safe in a way that doesnโt make him feel cornered, so sharing feels practicalโฆ until it starts feeling soft. sam is very calm about it. suspiciously calm. he says thereโs no point in either of you sleeping badly when the bed is big enough, then proceeds to lie there extremely still because now heโs aware of every breath you take. you fall asleep first. he doesnโt. not for a while.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ puts pillows between you, but wakes up cuddling anyway
เนเฃญ โญ he calls it a โsafety wall,โ you call it pathetic, and by sunrise the whole system has mysteriously collapsed. you talk too much. he tells you this several times. then keeps answering. then starts laughing. then rolls closer without meaning to. the pillows donโt survive the night because apparently banter is a gateway drug to accidental cuddling, and dean wakes up with your face near his shoulder looking deeply betrayed by his own body.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ shares, but overthinks the entire thing
เนเฃญ โญ he thinks itโll be fine because youโre fun and easy to talk to, then remembers you are also impossible to predict. sam tries to read before sleeping. huge mistake. you keep asking questions, making comments, stealing glances, turning the room into a podcast studio. eventually he tells you to go to sleep, but his voice is too fond to be convincing. he wakes up still on his side, careful as ever, with you having somehow stolen most of the blanket.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ shares, no pillow wall
เนเฃญ โญ he trusts you not to make him feel stupid for needing rest, which is basically emotional nudity for him. dean tries to act normal, but heโs softer with you from the start. he takes the side closest to the door without discussing it, because of course he does, and lets you settle in before he turns off the light. you donโt tease him when he stays awake a little too long. you just say goodnight quietly, and that somehow ruins him more.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ offers the bed, then ends up sharing and cuddling
เนเฃญ โญ he wants to do the gentlemanly thing, but you refuse to let him fold himself onto a motel couch like a tragic lawn chair. you can tell heโs tired before he admits it. so you pat the empty side of the bed and give him that lookโthe one that says youโre not arguing about this at midnight. sam gives in because he trusts your care. by morning, thereโs barely any space between you, and neither of you says a word about it.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ insists on sharing
เนเฃญ โญ he acts casual, but the second you look too good sitting on that bed, his confidence starts doing dangerous little flips. this becomes flirtation with a mattress involved. horrible idea. you take up space so naturally, so warmly, so beautifully, and dean pretends he isnโt affected while absolutely being affected. he says, โdonโt hog the blanket,โ then proceeds to hover near the edge because touching you by accident suddenly feels too loaded.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ puts pillows between you
เนเฃญ โญ he needs a barrier because you have too much presence, and his self-control is already filing complaints. sam respects you. admires you. is deeply, privately flustered by you. so yes, the pillows appear. not because he doesnโt trust you, but because he does not trust himself after the way you smile at him in low light. by morning, the pillows are still there, but his hand is resting over one of them, close enough to count.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ lets you take the bed, then gets dragged into sharing
เนเฃญ โญ he tries to sacrifice his spine until you calmly inform him that being stupid is not actually heroic. you do not romanticize his nonsense, which is why this works. dean says heโll take the floor, you tell him he has bruised ribs and terrible judgment, and he complains while obeying you. the bed is shared with military precision at first. then he relaxes. then he falls asleep faster than he meant to, because around you, he feels handled in the best way.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ shares very responsibly
เนเฃญ โญ you both pretend this is a practical sleeping arrangement, which is hilarious because the tension has receipts. sam likes that youโre sensible about it. no drama, no teasing, no weird performance. you each take a side, set alarms, agree on blanket distribution, and somehow that makes it more intimate than if either of you flirted. he wakes up before you and stays still, because your hand is near his wrist and apparently that is enough to destroy him.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ shares, but teases you the whole time
เนเฃญ โญ he cannot let the room stay normal because you look too pretty under ugly motel lighting and he needs to make that someone elseโs problem. dean turns it into a bit. โdonโt try anything,โ โkeep your cold feet over there,โ โthis is a professional arrangement.โ meanwhile, heโs the one watching you too long when you laugh. you fall asleep first, peaceful and smug, and he lies there wondering when exactly sharing a bed started feeling less funny and more dangerous.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ offers the bed, then shares
เนเฃญ โญ heโs too polite to assume, youโre too charming to let him suffer, and suddenly the couch has lost the election. sam starts formal. painfully formal. you take the bed, heโll take the couch, no problem. then you tilt your head and ask if heโs seriously planning to sleep with one leg hanging off the end, and he folds. not quickly, but he folds. by morning, youโve stolen the blanket and he lets you.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ shares, but the tension is obscene
เนเฃญ โญ neither of you says anything inappropriate, which somehow makes it worse. this is the quietest disaster. dean takes the side near the door. you notice. he notices you noticing. the air turns thick with things neither of you is brave enough to name, so you both lie there in the dark pretending sleep is an option. it is not. by morning, youโve barely slept, and somehow it still feels incriminating.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ prefers the floor at first
เนเฃญ โญ he does not trust how deeply you read him, and sharing a bed feels way too close to letting you win. sam says heโll sleep on the floor. you stare at him until the silence becomes a weapon. eventually he gives in, because heโs exhausted and because pretending heโs unaffected by you is taking too much energy. he sleeps on the edge, careful and guarded, but wakes up turned toward you anyway. traitor body.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ shares, steals the blankets
เนเฃญ โญ you make the whole thing too funny for him to be mature about, so naturally the night becomes a low-stakes war. you flop onto the bed first, claim the good pillow, and dean immediately acts personally attacked. the two of you bicker over space, temperature, and who is breathing too loudly. he steals the blankets, you kick him, he laughs, and somehow it becomes one of the best nights of sleep heโs had in weeks. annoying.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ chooses the couch, regrets it instantly
เนเฃญ โญ he thinks distance will protect his peace, then remembers you have zero respect. sam tries to sleep on the couch because you are chaos with a pulse and he knows youโll keep talking. you do keep talking. from the bed. across the room. about nonsense. eventually he gives up, gets into the bed with the exhausted patience of a man accepting his fate, and mutters, โgo to sleep.โ you do not.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ prefers the floor, but you donโt allow it
เนเฃญ โญ he tries to out-stubborn you, which is bold, considering you are professionally stubborn. dean says heโs fine on the floor. you say no. he says heโs slept in worse places. you say thatโs not the flex he thinks it is. eventually he gets into the bed with the dramatic irritation of a man who has lost and knows it. you both sleep stiffly at first, then wake up closer because apparently control is fake.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ shares like adults
เนเฃญ โญ he appreciates that you donโt make it weird, until the lack of weirdness somehow makes it extremely weird. sam trusts your composure. you trust his. so sharing should be easy. clean. mature. unfortunately, quiet tension loves responsible people. you both keep to your sides, but thereโs something painfully intimate about the restraint, about knowing neither of you would cross a line unless invited.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ insists on taking the couch
เนเฃญ โญ he does not know what to do with your emotional independence, so he chooses furniture-based avoidance. dean acts casual, but heโs suspicious of how unbothered you are. you donโt beg him to share, donโt tease him into it, donโt make the obvious jokeโand that bothers him more than if you had. he lasts the night on the couch, then complains all morning like he didnโt make the choice himself.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ shares, with a pillow between you
เนเฃญ โญ he likes your mind too much to risk low-light vulnerability without at least one sad little fabric boundary. sam is curious about you, comfortable with your strangeness, but still cautious. he puts the pillow between you almost apologetically, and you donโt even argue, which makes him feel ridiculous. by morning, the pillow is on the floor. neither of you knows who moved it. both of you are lying.
โ๏ธ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ง โญ gives you the bed, then ends up sharing
เนเฃญ โญ he tries to protect you from discomfort, then folds the second you softly ask him not to sleep on the floor. you donโt push. thatโs the problem. you just look at him with those tired, gentle eyes and say thereโs enough room. dean grumbles, acts put-upon, makes one joke to survive the tenderness, then climbs in. he sleeps closer than he means to. wakes up with his hand near yours. pretends not to notice. absolutely notices.
๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฌ๐๐ฆ โญ puts pillows between you, but wakes up cuddling anyway
เนเฃญ โญ he thinks boundaries will help, but youโre warm and soft and sam is only human despite the giant moral burden aesthetic. sam is careful. always careful. he makes space, checks that youโre comfortable, says goodnight in that low voice that makes the room feel quieter. then somewhere around dawn, all that carefulness disappears, and he wakes up with you tucked close against him. he freezes, panics internally, then relaxes for one stolen second too long.
