Tag: dean winchester

wincestious:

“You worry too much.”  The angel chimed, carefree as always, and Sam bit his lip.

“Dean, I don’t worry enough,” he then looked around the quiet suburban town they were meeting in, as if spies were eyeing them now, telling their superiors of Dean’s illicit activities, “If anyone finds out about us-”

“Shush up, jeez, Sam, I’m fine.”  Dean said, brow furrowed in irritation and he papped Sam’s cheek.  “Ain’t no one gonna find out about us, alright?  I’m pretty fucking sneaky.”

The bait was too obvious and Sam was in too sour a mood to let it go by, “That mean’s someone will find out about us.”  Sam mumbled, tone low and heavy with guilt, fear, apprehension – among other things.

Dean just scoffed, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his companions pursed lips and grinning when a wild blush spread across the once-angel’s cheeks.

“Seriously, chill out, let’s enjoy our day while we still can, and hey, if it helps, I’ll even stop the whole ‘flying’ thing to really go low on the radar.”

“That would help.”  Sam said, licking his lips and staring hard at the concrete ground.

“Cool, now c’mon, theres a great expanse of humans to poke fun at.”  Dean said, elbowing Sam’s side and this time safe with his feet pointedly on the ground.  Sam chuckled, weakly, but it was better than the storm front his face was moments ago.

–

angel!dean telling his bro to chill out (tho sams got some legitimate reasons to panic considering hes a fallen angel turned demon who dean continuously slacks off his duties to go on dates many manly adventures with)

wincestious:

“Thought you liked being carried?”  Sam chimed, grinning at his panicking brother.

Dean glared flustered at the ground, feeling entirely too weightless hefted up from the comfort of a solid flooring, “In theory, damn it – put me down!”  he hissed through grit teeth, because yeah, he might’ve said he’s turned on by the idea that Sam could maybe lift him – but he didn’t mean for the stupid little fuck of a brother to actually do it.

“Aw, Dean, you’re hurting my feelings,” Sam paused to pull puppy face number what the fuck ever, “You don’t trust me to keep you up?’  He ended with, and Dean clung tighter to Sam’s broad chest.

“I’m willing to admit that I trust no one to keep me up you over sized dick.”  Dean bit out, turning to glare at Sam and having his anger flush out to be replaced with pity because god damn was Sam good at the whole kicked puppy look.

“Dean…”  Sam said, soft, brow creased and his grip slackened, causing Dean to slip down a little and he glued himself to Sam’s body.

“Look, fine, I trust you al-fucking-right?”  Dean said, tone panicked and rushed and Sam’s grin brightened anew at that, his hold on Dean tightening and Dean blew a little sigh of relief.

After a moments pause, Dean stopped to stare at his bare feet, wiggling his toes with a terse look and realized that being picked up wasn’t so bad a thing, it was actually – well, freeing.  Especially for someone of his height.

Sam must have noticed some change on his face, because he leaned down a fraction and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek, “Not so bad, right?”  Sam said, smile soft.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, managing a half shrug from where he was posed, “Once I get over the whole fear factor, it’s kinda’ cool.”  And he was only half lying, because it was cool, but also really hot, and he wondered how long Sam could keep him suspended.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean began, looking to Sam who just now started to look a little tired from the effort of holding Dean up.

“Yeah?”

“Do ya’ think maybe you could,” Dean paused, bit his lip, continued, “carry me to the kitchen?  And the laundry room?  And the bedroom?  Actually – since you’re so cocky, carrying me all over shouldn’t be so hard, right?”  Dean asked, coy and grinning, and he could feel the tension running through Sam’s arms – big little brother was getting tired.

Sam looked taken back, a nervous look crossing his face before returning to the carefree grin, albeit accompanied by a small bead of sweat, “Well, yeah, uhm – of course.”  Sam answered.

“Cool,” Dean said, giving Sam an odd hug around the neck before leaning back, grinning when Sam grunted with the effort to keep him up and pat Sam’s tense shoulder, “Alright, lil’ bro, to the kitchen for some delicious in air action breakfast.”

Sam just chuffed a laugh in reply, before making the sure to be not-so-fun trek to the kitchen.

–

idk, some domestic!au fluff where dean let slip during the kanoodling that he gets off on the idea sam could carry him, so one morning when dean makes a prince charming joke bc of sams hair sam legit sweeps him off his feet, leaving dean to panic bc hey hes toll hold on his feet are meant to stay on solid ground kthnx

wordsinhaled:

now i’m thinking about an au where dean does kill sam in “brother’s keeper,” and sam’s ghost haunts that restaurant forever after

sam can never rest because he can’t be certain his brother is okay wherever death sent him 

but sam’s spirit is so strong, and people, all sorts of people who drive by on the highway or live in a 10 mile radius or come because of hearsay, are drawn to that place. they can’t explain what it makes them feel, being there – it’s not a bad feeling exactly, more like heartache or a resigned, steadfast kind of solitude. it makes them want to call up their family members they’ve been estranged from for years or just haven’t talked to in a few hours. it makes them want to talk – to open up – so they do, speaking to nothing but thin air in an empty room, and yet, still feeling comforted 

soon people start to leave letters; to whom, they don’t know. they fill that abandoned place with notes and messages on scraps of paper, on the walls in marker or paint, telling their secrets, sharing parts of themselves and leaving unburdened 

the ghost that haunts the place is an urban legend. no one can pin down what exactly brought the ghost there, or what caused its demise. it’s all shrouded in mystery but there’s a lot of emotion around there, that’s for sure

a few years later the restaurant makes a list of most haunted locales – not because of anything sinister or terrifying occurring there, but because people just can’t explain the bittersweet aura of the place, or what attracts them there, or why sometimes, they even come back more than once 

they say at night you can see someone sitting in the doorway of the restaurant under the awning – a tall man, dressed in plaid, reading all of his letters one by one