Hi, it's Nina and this is my corner of all things spn related, where I can - hoperfully - be free :)
Speaking of Supernatural: I'm a bi-bro, meaning I have an unhealthy love for both Dean and Sam Winchester: for me they're two halves of a whole, I love them equally (with a strength that scares me sometimes). I'm a Jensen girl, I've been since 2002, I love the guy something fierce!:)This means that you will never see any bashing of the Winchesters in this blog and i tend to be quite opinionated when someone talk shit about them. Just a warning, guys!
Congratulations Supernatural ass kissers, I've said fuck it to my tolerance ways. If you don't agree UNFOLLOW, do me this favor
my msn contact: email@example.com
My AO3 account: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina36/works I'm in the process of moving all of my fics, from all the fandoms I've been in over there
My facebook profile: Nina Myspecialhell
What I love: music, writing, reading.
The tv shows: Supernatural, The X-Files, Law & Order: SVU, NCIS, 24, DR WHO
Movies: a shitload, I can't name them all
Music: see above.
I'm in my thirties, but I really don't feel my years. Sometimes I feel like I'm 15, other times like I'm 55...
I'm BI and single at the moment.
My OTPS: Mulder and Scully. Jack and Renee, Ziva and Gibbs, Dean and Sam, Amy/Eleven (shut up they belong together!)
J2 (pliz...no bashing!). I adore them, I ship them...deal with it!
oh...and WINCEST. Can't forget about that. I used to be on the fence, now I ship them harder than fedex with the burning intensity of a thousand suns.
I reblog a lot. I suck with photoshop, but I'm trying to learn.
Also...I comment. A lot. With tongue firmly planted in cheek. Deal with it;)
Just to make things clear, so that there are no mistakes: I DON'T LIKE CASTIEL. I DON'T LIKE DESTIEL. Got it? Ok.online
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Kripke, Gamble and co. Dean and Sam belong to each other. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: PG 13
Classification: kinda crack, H, schmoop and some angst and of course wincest…duh!
To Ambra: just because you rock and to Arik just because you exist!
a/n: after seeing Lucifer in the episode, I *had* to share mine (been writing this fic since wednesday btw)
Sam Winchester knew things were weird, really weird, when Lucifer - the Archangel who lived in his head like a Jiminy Cricket on crack - smirked at him, behind his shoulders, and for a moment he became the sassy gay best friend of every chick flick had ever been shot.
“Really?” Lucifer asked, “Valentine’s day…”
“Shut up!” Sam said between clenched teeth, without even touching the scar on his hand.
“Valentine’s day with your brother…” Lucifer said and Sam thought that if that was indeed a chick flick, they’d been having that conversation in some kind of loft, or in the streets of New York, while each holding a cup of coffee and he’d be the poor schmuch stuck with the best friend from hell - ah ah - who discouraged him from going after the girl of his dreams.
Except they weren’t in a comfy loft, or walking the streets of New York, draped in Armani coats, floating scarves and starbuck coffees…and their dialogues were kinda like that,
“So you’re going to put it to him for Valentine…or the other way around? How sweet”
“Shut the fuck up”
“Just calling things as I see ‘em…it’s not like incest wasn’t part of the brochure in tour hell, Sammy”
“Don’t call me that”
“Just a tip then, Samuel, stock on booze, make him numb enough and if he can get it up for more than five minutes, hey! Happy Valentines to you, buddy!”
It was then, Sam touched the scar on his palm…it had stopped hurting for months, but somehow Lucifer always went away when he pressed, when he recalled Dean’s words.
“At least do you have money to buy him something, dipshit?” Lucifer asked.
Sam looked around in the small, dingy bathroom, beads of perspiration trailing down on his jaws, he swallowed and said in a low voice, “That’s not what I’m going to give him”
“Oh, really?” Lucifer asked, and Sam was pretty sure that if he’d been looking at him, the hallucination would have his hands on his hips and his best, “oh, bitch, please, don’t even…” face on.
Yes, he had gotten acquainted with each and every face Lucifer could make. His life sucked…what else was new?
“I’m going to…make him happy” Sam said.
Lucifer’s laughter echoed through the room, making his ear sting, and he closed his eyes, pressing harder and harder his thumb on his scar.
“Well, then, good luck with that, boy…tell you what: you pull this one off, I promise twenty four hours of radio and video silence.”
Sam turned toward the voice, but the room was empty, only when he did look in the mirror, Nick’s smiling face blinked at him, “Scout’s honor, a promise is a promise yadda yadda yadda”
Lucifer put a finger on his lips tapping it once twice, “but if you fail…becauseseriously, Dean happy? I’m going to have so much fun with you, Samuel…”
“Fuck you…” Sam hissed.
Lucifer laughed, his body morphing quickly into Ruby, Amy, Jess and finally Dean, “been there, done that, my boy…don’t you remember?”
Problem was: Dean and Sam didn’t live in a rom-com, and Sam had no idea about how to celebrate Valentine’s day with Dean: none, zero, nada, zip.
He supposed incest rom com were kind of side eyed on Hollywood, especially if they were about two brothers..
Their lives were more akin to some horror novel with a bit of Thomas Hardy and Dostojevsky thrown in it for good measure.
…and some Bible.
Angels, Demons, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory…Sam Winchester envied the fuck out of atheists these days.
The other problem - besides the fact that their lives sucked - was that Dean was falling apart….and Sam had been unable to stop it until that moment.
Dean was going through the motions, but Sam was pretty sure he would kick his ass if he ever suspected he had been thinking in terms of chick flicks…related to them.
Yet, for better and for worse, as crazy, unhealthy it was, Dean and he were together, they were it, and Sam honestly couldn’t imagine spending his life with anyone else…and it wasn’t because they were damaged goods or totally fucked up in the head…but simply because they made sense together.
And Freud could kiss his ass any time. He didn’ care.
It wasn’t easy, and it was complicated…but Dean made him happy…he just wanted to do the same for him, at least for one day.
The first thing he ruled out, on principle, was magic: witches, demons and that stuff? They didn’t work, and on them the effect was tenfold…
He was not that desperate.
He thought about something that could make Dean happy…and his morale took a nose dive when he realized that somehow, along the lines, while fighting apocalypses and spending their summers in hell, both Dean and he had been carefully and masterfully deconstructed.
And it was not that he didn’t love the man Dean had become…if anything his love for Dean had become almost scary…because Dean was literally his tether to sanity, the first face he saw in the morning, the last one until he finally passed out into troubled sleep.
How could he make a man who had forgotten how to even smile, happy?
Sam sighed, ignoring the glance from Dean and turned on his laptop.
Short of lap dancing for him, covered in whipped cream he had zero ideas…and Valentine’s day was near.
And yes, he was obsessing. He also had Lucifer in his head, an alcoolic brother/lover and the closest thing he had to a father had just died.
Karma was a bitch, fate was a nasty cunt…but sometimes, just sometimes…things turned out just perfect…or as close as they could be for them.
Even if it meant he had to take back what he had previously thought about witches…about a couple of witches in particular. Don and Maggie Stark.
It begun when Sam was putting safely away the Chronos’s ring…his mind had wandered, for once Lucifer free, to the night Dean had come back…or he had brought him back, it didn’t really make any difference in the end.
His mind had gone back to the letter he had found, to how proud he had been of Dean for finding a way to communicate with him and how, at the same time, he had had no doubts that he would have.
He had recalled how he had killed a god, without even thinking…and then what had happened after…after Sheriff Mills had left, after having helped them to take care of the body.
He had recalled how he had pinned Dean against the wall the minute they had come back inside, still sweating, still high on adrenaline, how Dean had stilled for a second, before responding to his kiss, how urgent their movement had been, how aroused he had been while undressing Dean, while he freed him from those clothes.
“Don’t…” He had panted, against his brother neck, biting down, hard, his hands touching Dean, because he had started to feel unreal, and Dean was *real*, and his…and there had been something about him that night: maybe those clothes, maybe the fact that he had looked younger, more carefree, but Sam’s mind was still stuck on that night
Maybe it’s because it’s the last time you two actually fucked instead of jerking each other off? Lucifer supplied, he sounded amused or annoyed, Sam couldn’t decide and didn’t care.
Dean…had been almost happy when he had come back. A few hours in the past, in a time without Leviathans, without dead friends had given something back to him.
“Maybe he was just glad he hadn’t you around, dipshit” Lucifer supplied.
Sam pressed his thumb on his scar, Lucifer’s words stung…because …well, because sometimes he *did* remember that he was indeed having conversations with parts of himself, and maybe part of himself felt that Dean had been happy not to have him around.
But the other part? The one who had heard Dean’s heart beating faster and faster and scream his name as he came that night? That part was telling Lucifer to go and fuck off.
The ring was still there, in his hand, a useless object to him…but maybe, just maybe not to somebody else.
“Tell me you’re not about to do something stupid. Wait…you’re Sam Winchester, of course you are!”
The hallucination talking to him was Ruby, now…apparently Lucifer was sulking because he didn’t like it when Sam admitted to himself he was kind of crazy.
Ruby on the other hand? She hadn’t given a fuck about him when she was alive, he hadn’t given a fuck about her…so it made sense that she was his hallucination at the moment.
Hey, it was his head…and in his head it made sense!
“He will be pissed, Sammy…” Ruby supplied with the same false empathy she had used to fuck him over when she had been alive.
He nodded his head. Yes, there was the possibility that Dean could not, would not be happy with the result. But there was also the possibility that he could.
Besides, their world was already fucked to hell, their lives were a constant mess…what was one more?
“You want us to do what with what?” Maggie Stark asked.
It had been low: he had summoned the Starks, going alone, while Dean was asleep – hopefully he hadn’t slipped into an ethylic coma…which was one of his constant fears lately – and now the two powerful, very powerful witches were looking at him like he had grown a second head…or was about to lose his only one.
“Can you do that?” Sam asked, “I mean…is it possible to do in theory?”
“Sweetheart, I could turn you into Megan Fox in theory, but that doesn’t mean I would want to…” Maggie replied.
“And where did you take that ring anyway?” Maggie’s husband asked, he shook his head and said, “never mind, I don’t want to know…”
“No, the most important question is why would we want to help you!” Maggie asked.
She had a point…and Sam didn’t have a really convincing argument. He didn’t have leverage. He just had an idea, a brother (lover, center of his existence) that was falling more and more quickly apart and he wanted to …make him happy, give him something.
“Oh, Sammy wants to do something nice for his boyfriend but doesn’t have the cojones to play with the grown ups I see” Lucifer taunted him. Sam didn’t even press on his scar, he set his jaws, reminding the son of a bitch in his head and himself – pretty complicated at times – that he was Sam motherfucking Winchester, he had beat the devil and was still standing.
And he would save Dean
And give him an unforgettable Valentine’s day.
He could feel the stare of the two powerful witches on him, both waiting for him to say something or get the hell out of there before they killed him, and Sam did the only thing he could think of.
He told them the truth. All the truth and nothing but the truth…minus a few details here and there – God…Dean would really, really kill him that time!
“I knew it!” Maggie exclaimed when Sam eventually finished talking. Her husband was looking at her with fond exasperation, and for a moment he even looked at him apologetically, and Sam thought that maybe he had been in that line of job for way too long…
Until, Maggie said, “Okay, sure, no problem”
“Sammy Winchester trusting some dark creature, how shocking!” the voice in his head, this time, was Dean’s and that was the only moment he felt some guilt about his plan.
It was a good plan…really! Best case scenario: he’d get Dean a nice evening, hopefully some happiness, worst case scenario: the Starks would kill them or they’d get stuck in the 40s…honestly from where he was sitting, it was a win win anyway.
“This is the part where we usually start transactions” Crowley’s voice whispered in his head.
Okay, what the fuck? Since when his head had become a duplex? Not that the voice in his head didn’t have a point…but seriously…was there anyone of his past that hadn’t chimed in as an hallucination yet?
“Really?” He asked.
Maggie shrugged, “Sure, why not? We kinda owe you one…and we could strike some kind of deal”
“We don’t do deals…” Sam said.
“Cute, but I heard differently…and we are not demons, so not that kind of deal!” Don said.
“Ok, I’m listening…” Sam said.
And he did.
* * *
Sam knew Dean couldn’t deny him anything. It was one of the first things he had learned in his life. Sometimes it was mindblowing, others it made him feel guilty as hell…but there were times, like n
Because Dean did love him.
He started subtly, with pie and black coffee. For breakfast. Unprompted by Dean.
His brother looked at him, still midly drunk, his eyes bloodshot and for a moment there was some genuine confusion on his face and he wanted to shout, “PIE, DEAN! EAT YOUR DAMN PIE!”
“Dude…” Dean said after sipping his coffee, “did you get me pie for breakfast?”
Sam nodded, and Dean looked at him for a moment before shaking his head, without commenting further. He did look at him from time to time, while he was eating the pie, his favorite kind, and yes, Sam might have used some other dirty trick, especially when he had licked away the whipped cream from the corner of Dean’s mouth, with his tongue.
And Dean was always, always definitely more reasonable after a blow job…especially a surprise one.
“You’re stopping so low, Sammy…I’m so proud of you!” Lucifer told him, as he was still taking in deep breaths, looking at Dean who was staring into distance, his chest heaving, one hand on his shoulder
“Like a good puppy…are you even going to wag your tail now, Sammy?” Lucifer continued and Sam had to close his eyes for a moment, trying not to hear Lucifer’s words, his words.
“Have I been really really good and I didn’t notice?” Dean asked, breaking his train of thoughts, Sam frowned and Dean smirked, “of course it’s hard to say, I’m always awesome!”
Sam rolled his eyes and got up, “Of course you are, but I’m still taking the first shower”
He couldn’t help the tears that threatened to fill his eyes when he heard Dean muttering, “bitch…”
“Jerk…” He threw behind his shoulders.
He could do it. He could.