iguessivebeenwinchestered - Tumblr blog

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

HI! i love your blog! could you please do a crowley x reader fix where crowley is in love with the reader, but he tries to hide it, but does a really bad job at it, so the reader knows? thank you!! :)

We’ll add it to the list! Sorry we haven’t been very active lately - things are pretty hectic with school and life stuff.

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

Hi ! I love your fics, do you have a masterlist please ?

Thanks hun! Yes, we do. 

masterlist

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

Do you have a masterlist?

We do! here

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

Hi! Your fob/spn crossover was so awsome! I loved it!

Thanks so much, dear! I’ve actually been thinking for a while about rewriting it, changing all the names, and making it into a book… as weird as that might sound.

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

Yorktown (Part I)

A/N: This is the second part to the World Turned Upside Down series for @faith-in-dean‘s Hamilnatural Writing Challenge. Read part one here.

Song: “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” from Hamilton the Musical

Writer: Castielle

Words: 1287

Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and Reader (a woman pretending to be a man so she can fight for America)

You had been fighting for days. Morale was still high (thanks to Hamilton – that man had a way of making everyone want to fight), but it was already nearing the middle of October, and, to be honest, you were tired.

Sam and Dean Winchester had proven their worth in gold. They were both excellent fighters and took down many of the British. Sam went along with Hercules Mulligan on one of his espionage expeditions, but Dean stayed with your troops.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were kind of glad he did.

You were never one to moon over a boy. Unlike some people.

“I wish Laurens was here. I miss him,” Hamilton moaned over breakfast one morning.

Roberts, one of the men in your garrison, snickered. You didn’t dare to.

“Who’s Laurens?” Dean asked you after Hamilton left the campfire, saying that he had important business to discuss with Washington.

“He’s one of our best soldiers. He and Alexander... well, let’s just say their relationship is a little close for comfort. Some people suspect that they... well, have homosexual tendencies.”

“Ah.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t look concerned. “I thought he had a wife.”

“Hamilton may have a wife, but whenever he’s away from her, he’s whoring it around,” Roberts said boldly.

“Shut up!” you told him fiercely.

“What? It’s the truth,” Roberts protested with a blank, innocent look on his face.... except for that gleam in his eyes.

“He is your superior and you will not talk about him that way. I don’t care what he does. Keep your mouth shut and your thoughts to yourself,” you snapped.

“Yes, sir,” Roberts said meekly. He quickly exited the scene.

“A job well done,” Dean said softly. His voice sounded very close to your ear and you jumped.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t sit so close to me. I don’t need my reputation at stake as well as Hamilton’s!” you growled at him, standing up. You gave him a cold look and stalked away.

You felt warm all over and you cursed your feminine weakness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Sam came back with Mulligan, he had news that was quite unexpected.

“It’s Cornwallis and some of his generals. They’re the monsters.”

“The leader of the British troops?!” Hamilton spat out. He cursed under his breath. “I should have known.”

“Alexander,” George Washington reminded him gently, but he was smiling.

“It just means it will be difficult to take Cornwallis down. We’ll need silver bullets washed in the blood of an innocent man.”

Washington’s smile quickly faded from his face. “I was not expecting this,” he said quietly.

“I know, General,” Sam said gently. “But there’s no other way.”

“Sir!” Hamilton piped up. “I would be glad to die to see that British scum removed from this earth.”

“No, Alexander.” Washington shook his head. “I need you here.”

Dean bit his lip. “I could... you know,” he offered. His voice was self-assured and confident, but you heard the slightest of a quaver in his tone.

“Dean, no!” Sam protested.

“No indeed,” Washington stated. “You need to go back to your own time. You were sent here to kill these monsters. I’m not letting you die until after you’ve done your job.” He grinned a little and Dean’s shoulders slumped in relief.

In the end, it wasn’t as difficult as you had all thought. You visited the hospital tent, just in time to see one of Washington’s brave soldiers breathe his last breath.

“He was a good man,” Washington said with a catch in his throat. He blinked away tears and cleared his throat. “One of our bravest.”

Sam nodded. “We’ll collect his blood then.”

Leaving Dean and Hamilton to finish the work, Washington went back to his troops. Sam walked with you to your tent. You were both silent, but it was a companionate silence.

“Why did Dean offer his own life?” you suddenly blurted out.

Sam looked sad.

“My brother... he’s got a noble heart and a sense of honour. He’s also.... he’s been unhappy a long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. A lump formed in your heart. “My sister... she always wanted to be a soldier, too. She thought she was so different from everyone else. She couldn’t understand why. She grew unhappy. Until... until she killed herself.”

You felt tears forming in your eyes. “The priest refused to bury her in hallowed ground. I stopped going to church after that. I don’t want to believe in a God that could be so cruel.”

Sam put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Joseph,” he said, using your soldier forename. “Just because religious people say that God thinks a certain way... it doesn’t mean that He actually does. People don’t know God’s mind. But I know that God would want your sister buried in sacred ground. I know that He’s accepted her into heaven.”

“How can you know that?” you asked in a choked voice.

“Because me and Dean... we’ve seen Him. We met God.”

“What?” You were so shocked and surprised at this blasphemy that you forgot that you had been about to cry. “How could...?”

“He appeared to us. There was something very bad happening in the future, where we’re from. I don’t want to go into detail because it would take a long time to explain, but the important thing is... God stepped in. He was the only one who could save us. And He did. He cares, Joseph. He cares about your sister, and He cares about you. He cares about all of us, even the British.”

You couldn’t say anything. You were too overwhelmed. You just stood there staring at the younger Winchester, sniffling a little bit.

Sam clapped you on your back, shaking you out of your reverie. He gave you an encouraging smile and turned to walk away, letting you have your own space.

“Sam, wait!” you called after him.

“Yeah?” Sam asked with a grin.

“My name’s not Joseph. It’s Josephina,” you whispered. “You can tell Dean that if you like.”

Sam nodded. “I will,” he said.

When you were finally in the privacy of your own tent, you slipped to your knees.

“God... are you there?” you whispered to the duskiness of the cloth interior. There was no answer, but then, you didn’t really expect one. “Help me believe. Help us.” Almost as an afterthought, even though it had been at the foremost of your thoughts, you added, “... and please help Dean.”

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

Captain Blakeney

A/N: This is the first part for the World Turned Upside Down series I am writing for @faith-in-dean‘s Hamilnatural (yup, Hamilton and Supernatural) challenge. *cough* It was only supposed to be one story and I feel like I overstepped the boundaries a little, but I got too excited because I absolutely love the prompt.

Song: “History Has Its Eyes On You” from Hamilton (this isn’t my prompt song but as this is a kind of prologue, I thought it would be okay to overstep a little)

Writer: Castielle

Words: 1338

Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and Reader (a woman pretending to be a man so she can fight for America)

"Let me go, you asshole!" the man with short-cropped brown hair yelled. You thumped at him, particularly hard, and he quieted down. At least the other spy was acting reasonably, standing with his arms pinned behind his back.

"You are trespassing into the territory of the United States of America," you hissed at him. "But you probably already knew that, since you're here. Are you British?"

"British?" The man started laughing. "Mister, I don't know where you've been living, but I certainly don't have one of the Cockney acce...."

You kicked his ankle and he shut up. You studied him carefully, with narrowed eyes.

"American, then. A peasant, perhaps? Your clothes are too fine for that, though."

"Take us to your leader," the taller man said quietly. "Then we'll explain everything."

"And I suppose I'm not good enough for you then!" you huffed. It sounded immature, you knew, but sometimes it got a little too much. No one knew you were a woman posing as a man in the army, but the lack of belief even after all your hard work and bravery still stung.

"You wouldn't believe us," the first man shrugged.

You looked at him coolly. "If I won't, I highly doubt our commander will, either."

As luck turned out, Hamilton didn't buy their pretty story about several of the British soldiers being monsters (meaning real, live monsters - like the Vampyre). Unfortunately, George Washington put his foot down. He had been listening to Sam and Dean Winchester (for that were their names, Dean being the name of the shorter man with an attitude) with a curious expression on his face. When Hamilton laughed in their faces, Washington raised a hand.

"Alright, boys, we believe you. We'll help  you, but on one condition."

"What?!" Alexander Hamilton practically yelled. "We don't believe them! Sir, are you even listening to their outrageous tale? Fit for children! Are we...?" He trailed off at a stern look from the president, but from the look on his face, he was still steaming. You knew your commander all too well. But then you were angry, too. Who did these Winchesters think they were?

"On one condition," Washington repeated.

"And what's that?" Sam Winchester asked. You had to admit, you admired his gumption. He would have made a perfect general, that one. Dean, on the other hand... You couldn't help grinning at the thought. That one would have to be whipped into shape to be even a good foot soldier.

"In precisely three hours, we are marching upon Yorktown against the British. We could use the help of two sturdy young men as yourselves. You can fight with us, and then go find your monster."

"Young...!" Dean spluttered, but stopped at a warning glance from his brother. You smirked.

"We accept your deal," Sam said. "We'd be glad to help you defeat the British."

"Excellent!" George Washington beamed. "I'm sure Hamilton will be glad to have your help, won't you, Alexander? In fact, I think I'll put you under the charge of Captain Blakeney."

You choked. Alexander Hamilton choked. Dean Winchester made a sound like that of a dying cat.

George Washington grinned. "I'll leave you to it, then."

You waited until the president had left and then eyed both boys coolly.

"I hope you're happy with what you got yourself into."

"And what do you mean by that?" Dean asked you, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Well, you're going out onto the battlefield. I'm pretty sure neither of you have ever been in more than a silly meaningless fight. Well, war is nothing like that. War isn't glory. It's terrifying," you spat out at them.

As you spoke, Dean had opened his mouth, an indignant look on his face. But as you continued, you noticed that the man had suddenly become quiet. He almost seemed to... to understand?

"So when you die on the battlefield, or go home and can't sleep because all  you can hear is the screams of men in your ears... well, I hope your little folk tale was worth it."

You found yourself choking on your own tears, so you shut your mouth tight and turned to leave.

Hamilton was nodding, and he had a look of admiration on his face as he looked at you.

You nodded at him.

"Commander," you whispered and left the tent.

Fifteen minutes was enough to compose yourself and make sure your breast bindings were secure. Fifteen minutes was also apparently enough for Dean Winchester to find your tent.

You yelped as you walked outside to find Dean standing directly outside the door.

"What do you want?" you growled at him.

Dean held out his hand. "To apologize," he said. "My brother and I are on a mission to find monsters and kill them before they hurt anymore people, it's all true... but that was no excuse to be so rude to you."

You huffed out your breath, but took his hand and shook it. His hand was quite calloused, you noticed. Was that a scar you felt near his wrist? And another deep one on his index finger? You frowned. Perhaps this man was not so ill-experienced as you had thought.

"I accept your apology. And... I'm sorry, too. You and your brother are my guests now. I'll show you to the tent where you can get set up. We march soon."

Dean nodded. "Lead the way, Commander."

As you walked towards the Armoury (it wasn't really, but your soldiers had dubbed the tent with this name), Dean said softly, "It must be so difficult for you."

The statement was casual enough, but you found yourself stiffening. "What do you mean?" you asked.

"Well, in 1781.... to not only get into the army, but to even get a position of authority. Does anyone else know you're a woman?"

You whirled around to face him.

"How... how do you know? Did you tell anyone?"

"'Course not," Dean shrugged. "I'm just observant. I'm sure Sammy does, too. Let's just say... this isn't the first time I've seen a woman need to hide herself to get somewhere. It's a shame, it is. I'm sure you're better than half the man here."

"Oh," you faltered. "Oh, okay."

Dean grinned. "My brother and I... we're in a line of business where disguises can be pretty important - not only for ourselves, but also to be able to tell if someone else is in a disguise. We've spent years at this. I'm sure no one else knows, if you've been careful. Which I'm sure you've been," he quickly added as you raised a fist to punch him.

You pursed your lips. "Alright.... Dean. Let's get you ready for battle."

As you entered the tent, George Washington and Alexander Hamilton watched you from the next tent.

"So... monsters are real?" Hamilton stated. He was still quite unsure of this fact, however, and his voice betrayed this uncertainty.

Washington nodded firmly. "I've run across several secret organizations during my time. One of these is the Men of Letters. I cannot speak more of their mission, but they have helped with the war effort and we would not be where we are today if it were not for them. My time with that prestigious group has shown me that monsters do really exist. Not only in men, but like the figments of imagination found in stories."

Hamilton couldn't help but shiver. "I thought I knew all there was to know about the world," he said.

"Indeed you do not," Washington said sharply. Hamilton looked at his commander, confused.

Washington spoke more softly. "You have much to learn, Alexander. But I do know this. Greatness lies in you. I know that we can win this battle if you lead us."

Hamilton's proud head dropped a little lower.

"I will do anything to bring America freedom. I want to make you proud, sir."

Washington smiled. "I used to be the main piece on the board. But now history has its eyes on you."

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

hi guys! are guys drinking enough water? are you guys moisturizing enough? are you tiny lil babies getting enough sleep?? these are questions I need answered. take care, I love you two!!

Hi Nonny :) thanks for the check in! Id like to say yes to all of them, but that's definitely a lie. I work full time in a greenhouse for the summer, hehe. Hydration is hella important and your skin gets Oh So Dry. Sleep comes and goes, but for now I'm doing alright.... :) - Samantha

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

I love Sammy!! And also my writing blog @iguessivebeenwinchestered :)

Calling all Sam!Girls!!!!

Guys, I follow a lot of Supernatural blogs but all they seem to post is Jensen/Dean and some of them have Sammy hate. I tried unfollowing a lot, but I end up with just a few Supernatural blogs. If you are a Sammy positive blog or just Supernatural in general blog, please reblog or tell me cause I need more! I don’t mind if you post occasional Jensen/Dean, but not all the fucking time. Give Sammy boy some appreciation!

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

You’re The Handyman?!

A/N: I wrote this as part of the Sam’s Sixty June Jobs... And it’s June 30th, so yes! I got it complete! Thanks to @teamfreewill-imagine​ and @latinenglishfandomblog​, I wrote this one as Sam as a Handyman... There are a lot of other one-shots to read if you go to their blogs as well! So, enjoy!

Author: Samantha

Words: 1192

Pairing: Sam x Reader

“Dammit,” you mutter, standing back with one hand on your hip and the other running through your hair. This was only the first time of many where your fridge had gone on the fritz. You had been at work, so upon returning, the inside was nearly luke-warm and the lights wouldn’t come on. To top it all off, it was making this weird buzzing sound that made you worried it was going to explode.

 “Ugh, this is probably all scrap…” you groan, chucking out the sandwich meat and the milk that had been inside. Scrunching your nose, you rubbing your face and then grabbed your phone. It was getting on into the evening, but perhaps there would be a service that would get someone out there to fix it. The chance was slim, but…

“Good evening, Winchester Service Center, how many we assist you?” a man’s voice responds on the other end of the receiver. It sounds like he had said it many times before, though it was still a wave of relief to you.

 “Hi, yeah… So I came home from work and my fridge is dead… It’s fairly new, so I don’t understand how it could be toast already. I mean, I don’t know anything about appliances but…” you pause and take a breath. “I was just wondering if there was a chance you could send someone out to fix it tonight at all?”

 “Well….” The man responds, sounding a little bit annoyed. He was probably hoping to get off work early that day. You only felt a little guilty, but even more desperate to have a place to store your food again. “I guess I can come out and take a look. What’s your address? I can be there in half an hour.”

 The half an hour felt like forever. You took out everything from the fridge, sorting out what was still good and what was ruined. By the end, the ‘good’ pile was a lot smaller than the ruined, which meant you would be doing some grocery shopping tomorrow if all this went well.

 The doorbell rings and you quickly went to answering it. “Thank you so much for coming… I –“ your voice stutters and fails when you finally gaze upon the handyman. He looks like he should be a model, not a guy with a toolbelt and a shirt that says “Sam” on it. “You’re the handyman?!” you can’t help but blurt out.

 With a grin, he nods, scratching the back of his neck, “Who else would I be?”

 “Right, yeah… Hi… I, ugh… Yeah, the fridge is here in the kitchen,” you add, smacking yourself mentally for saying something so stupid. “Did you want coffee, tea, water?”

 The man chuckles and shakes his head, “No ma’am, I’m just fine.” He sets down the box of his supplies and takes a gander at the fridge. “It is fairly new. And you have no warrantee?”

 Shaking your head, you lean against the counter and gaze at the 6’4” hunk in front of you. “No, I never thought that it was really worth it… I mean, how often does this happen?” you laugh a little.

 “More often than you think,” he looks over at you and winks. You blush. Damn, perhaps you should break your fridge more often.

 It takes him another half an hour, tinkering in the back. You hear ‘hums’ and different sounds as he works and it takes everything in your body to all but stare at him while he does. Finally, he steps back and pats his hands together before raising his eyebrows and nodding. “Well, I think that should about do it,” he responds, almost to your dismay. Plugging it back in, the lights flicker on and you can hear the fridge kick back into gear, almost as if its little failure had never happened.

 “Oh, that’s wonderful! Thanks you; how much do I owe you?” you ask, fumbling for your wallet in your purse. He looks at you seriously and then leans against the table, a little smirk on his face with that one dimple showing.

 “How about a coffee?”

 You glance up at him, your eyebrows shooting up and your mouth falling open. You laugh a little nervously and open your wallet. “No, seriously… How much?”

 “I am being serious. A coffee.” He looks back at you evenly, putting away his supplies before sitting down at the table and folding his hands on the top.

 Your heart flutters a little and you quickly go to the Keurig and put in a K-Cup. It feels like it takes forever and you struggle to find some sort of small talk. “Did you want cream or sugar?” you ask, fiddling with the spoon in the drawer.

 “Just cream,” he smiles, leaning back and kicking his feet out, crossing them underneath. “This is a nice place you got.”

 “Yeah, I just bought it a couple months ago,” you reply easily, setting his mug down in front of him with the creamer beside. Taking your own cup and adding a spoonful of honey, you sit back down and gaze at him. His brown hair fell in front of his face a little as he took the first sip.

 “That’s nice… Have you lived in the town a long time?”

 With a nod, you slip into the comfort of the chair. “Yeah, all my life, actually. I don’t really have any desire to move, but I would like to travel.”

 He chuckles and nods, “Funny. I haven’t seen you around before. I would have remembered if I had.” The way he said it nearly made your heart leap into your throat and made you choke on your coffee. With a cough, you hit your chest once or twice. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, leaning forward. “Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself. You okay?”

 “Yeah,” you cough again, clearing your throat and taking another sip to wash it all down. “I just never expected… I mean; I don’t know…”

 “What?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking a little bit confused. “Is it bad that I want to take you out for a dinner and a movie?”

 You blush and shake your head, “No, not at all… It’s just that no one has ever been like that to me before. I’m kind of the loner of my group. Everyone is off getting married and having kids, and I’m stuck here with my fish and a cheap bottle of wine.”

 With a soft smile, he leans forward and looks at you. “Well, let me be the first to change that. What are you doing on Saturday evening?”

 You glance at him, chewing on your bottom lip before smirking a little, “Whatever you’re planning on doing.”

 “Good,” he grins, leaning back again and finishing his coffee. “Oh, and that’ll be eighty-two dollars for the fridge.”

 You look at him a little shocked and he laughs out loud, shooting his hands up in the air in a form of ‘surrender’. “I’m totally messing with you. I got a date out of this broken fridge, what more can a guy ask for?”

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

In That Moment

Request: Hi guys, I really love your blog! Could you do a one shot where Dean visits an old flame and finds out he has a teenage daughter (the daughter is the reader)? - Anon

Words: 2001

Writer: Samantha

Pairing: Father!Dean x Reader

  Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

Dear Dad,

I got my drivers’ license today. It was a little later than I expected and I almost thought it would never get done, but I promised you I would do it… And I did. I don’t have my own car yet, but I guess that’ll take a little bit of time. Mom says I have to save some money before I can buy one. They’re so expensive! If you were here, maybe you’d let me drive your car. Mom says you have a pretty old car… An Impala I think she said. She doesn’t tell me much about you, but I can tell it hurts when she does. I think I remind her of you; there’s always something in the back of her eye when she’s thinking about you that I can’t explain. Longing? Brokenness? I don’t know. Anyways, I need to get to the diner; I’m covering my friend’s shift tonight.

Lots of love,

Y/N

 You lick the edge of the envelope after sliding the notebook paper into it. It’s just a simple white envelope with “Dad” written on the front, along with the date in the corner. There’s no address. No stamp.

“Y/N! You’re going to be late for work!” your mom calls from downstairs, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Coming!” you yell back, tossing the envelope into the drawer and slamming it shut. It was kept company by about some thirty other unsent letters with no address or stamp that you had written over the years. You wished that you could mail them all, but not only did you have an address to send them to, but your mom wouldn’t even tell you a name. You had no clue who this man was, what he looked like, where he lived, how they met…. All you knew was his car. A Chevy Impala 67’. Mom would tell stories about riding in it with him, having wild throws of her rebellious teenage years. And then she would make you promise that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes that she did.

 Going down the stairs at a beak neck pace, you grab your back pack off the coat hanger and the front door. Your mom was there to kiss you on the cheek, offer a word of warning, and send you off. You didn’t drive; not yet. But it was a small enough town that you could ride your bike everywhere. It kept you in good shape as well, so it really wasn’t too bad. Your mom didn’t make enough money to support having a vehicle, so it was either the two wheeled self-propelled machine or the little transit system that had two buses circulating around the residential streets and down the main way.

 The ride only took about ten minutes, since your house wasn’t too far away from the small diner that you worked at. It was quaint, with the leather red and white checkered seats and the frilly diner skirts they made all their female employees wear. But the pay was good and it was the only decent job you were going to get in a town like this, especially since you were still going to school.

 “Squeaking in just in time, hey Y/N?” Jason comments as you nearly ran through the door. He also worked at the diner and was one of the football jocks on the team in your school. Let’s just say, everyone wanted to jump his bones… But he was a jerk above all. Rolling your eyes, you went to the back and drop your back pack off in the staff lounge before quickly changing in the bathroom. You were out just in time to start your shift, serving customers their meals and plastering that perfect smile on your face while doing it.

 “Hi, welcome… Can I start you off with something to drink?” you go up to a table where one man sits by himself, wearing a leather jacket and some scuffed up jeans.

“Beer, please…” he gives you a little weary smile, running his fingers through his short hair as he looks over the menu. You smile and give him a couple more minutes with the menu, going to find your manager to give him the alcohol since you were still too young to serve it.

 “So, are you ever going to go out with me?” Jason asks, waggling his eyebrows as he leans on the counter looking back at you.

“You are never going to get into my pants, Jason…” you roll your eyes, grabbing the little notepad and going back over to the strangers table.

 “Is there anything I can get you to eat?”

“Uhm, yeah… I’ll have the Daredevil burger, with extra bacon and as greasy as you can manage…” he looks up at you with a little grin, his green eyes meeting your own. You blink a couple times and then nod, quickly scribbling it down.

“I’ll get that for you right away,” you reply, padding back to behind the counter and giving the chef the order.

 “Why not?” Jason whines again when he sees you, scooting a little closer. You scrunch your nose and shake your head, stepping backwards and grabbing a cloth to start cleaning the counter.

“Because unlike you, I have morals,” you nearly spit in his face, to which he gives you a look of disgust.

“You think you’re better than me or something?”

“No… It’s just…” you look up at the much larger boy, furrowing your eyebrows, “I’m not a douche-bag like you, Jason,” you spit out his name, “and I don’t really enjoy when you look at me like I’m your next meal. So back off!”

Just as Justin was about to step forward and show off his “superior masculinity” with a motion that Y/N was unsure of, an unfamiliar figure entered the room and crossed his arms.

 “Is something the matter back here?” he asks calmly, though his tone had an edge to it. You glance over and notice it’s your customer that you had just checked up on a few minutes ago.

“Yes, sorry if we disturbed you,” you answer quickly, really not wanting to lose any tips over this. While you were relieved that he had rescued you – in a sense – you also really needed the money to help pay the rent on the house.

“Not at all,” he flashes you a smile and then frowns at the boy, “you. Behave. And you?” he looks at you again, “I’m taking you home.”

“But –“ you try to protest, suddenly upset. You still had customers – you still had a job to do!

“No buts. Not until I can talk to the manager and get this sorted out. For now, I’m taking you home where it’s safe from creeps like this,” he responds, motioning for you to exit first. With a sigh, you shuffle your feet through the building. He takes you over to his car, a very nice looking Impala, and you hop into the passenger side. It reminds you a lot of the one your mom would talk about when describing your dad.

A little bit of small talk is made, but it’s mostly you just giving him directions to your house. When you finally get there, he gets out with you, telling you it’s “to make sure you get inside alright.” You roll your eyes, still struggling to believe that this was all for your safety.

 “Mom!” you call through the house when you enter the door, crossing your arms. As soon as she saw what was happening, she’d be on your side and you could go back to work. Or at least pick up your bike.

“Honey? Is that you? I thought you would be at work for another couple –“ she stops on the staircase, not even looking at you, but at the strange man just behind you. You can also hear him inhale sharply, like he had just seen a ghost.

“Mom?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Janet,” the man behind you spoke softly. Too softly.

“Wait, you know each other?!”

“What are you doing here, Dean?” your mom spoke, ignoring your comments as she comes down to the ground and stops in front of you, still looking at the man.

“Dean?”

“I was just wandering through and got hungry… Stopped at the diner, heard a little scuffle in the back, and brought her home… I’m assuming she’s your daughter…?” he replies, frowning a little while finally looking at you. Suddenly, something clicks in his brain and he looks back at your mom. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” you reply coolly, “what’s going on?!”

“Janet…?”

With a sigh, your mom runs a hand over her face, “I was going to tell you…”

“It’s been sixteen years and your best answer is, ‘I was going to tell you’?! Bull-….” He stops, looking down at you.

“Go to your room, Y/N,” your mom looks at you firmly.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” you answer, a little bit frightened. This was turning out to be really weird and you weren’t sure you liked it.

“Your mom’s right. We need a couple minutes, Y/N,” Dean says softly, pushing you forward towards the stairs.

With more grumbling, you do as your told and climb the stairs. Slamming your door, you pout and sit on your bed, knees curled up to your chest while you listen to all the yelling downstairs. It went back and forth for what felt like hours, until finally your mom came up and, with a sigh, sat down on the bed next to you.

“Y/N… I need to tell you something I should have told you a long time ago,” she says in almost a whisper. When you don’t say anything, she looks down at her hands and continues. “Sixteen years ago, this handsome young man came into our town and swooped me off my feet. We were in love, or so I thought… I became pregnant with you and I thought he would be thrilled. But the night I was going to tell him, he wasn’t at his house anymore. There was just a note saying that it was all a mistake and he wasn’t…” she stopped, sniffing for a second before taking a deep breath, “… coming back.”

You finally look up at your mom, a little bit confused as to why she was bringing this up now.

“Y/N, the man downstairs… He’s your father,” she finally finishes, her eyes watering up.

“What!?” you screech, jumping off the bed and standing in front of her. “You’re telling me, I just spent the better half of my day with my dad and didn’t even know it!?”

“Yes…”

 Glancing at your door, it only took a second before you bolted out of it and down the stairs. You find the man in the living room… Dean… That was his name. Your dad’s name was Dean. Freezing in the doorway, he sees you and quickly stands up, rubbing the back of his neck. Obviously, he had figured it out as well.

“Hey… I…” he tries to say something, causing your eyes to go as big as saucers. This was your dad…

“Yolo,” you murmur before shooting forward and wrapping your arms around his waist, tucking your head into his chest. He doesn’t know what to do for a few seconds, confused as to why you would try and hug him so quickly after meeting. Eventually, he accepts it, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

Your mom came down the stairs and fresh tears filled her eyes at the scene. Dean looks up at her and gives her a little smile, tilting his chin up. With a smile, she smiles to and comes over, her arms going around both of you.

In that moment, all three of you were together, connected. Your heart never felt stronger, happier, or more content. In that moment, you were family.

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

HI LOVES how are you guys??

Hey. :) We are doing well, just hitting vacation time around now. I’m hoping to get another fic in at some point, I’m just kind of in my writer’s block phase (as well as trying to relax after a difficult year). Thanks for being so patient!

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

I told my sister about it and she said, "Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters messed me up." Lol you're so adorable Castielle

Haha I’m glad to be of amusement!

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

To Find My Own messED ME UP

I’m glad?

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

More Cyrus!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 PLEASE??

Do you have any ideas of what you’d like to see with Cyrus?

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

To Find My Own

Requests: Can you do a Cyrus imagine where you go missing on a hunt. And he FREAKS out. Could it be connected to the short mini series you had about him? Please lots of angst!!! (@crazysuperwhomarvelperson)

What do I have to do to get a Cyrus Styne fic thats just fluffy smoot(smut) thats all i ask for please (anon)

A/N: I hope this is enough to please the readers! The fluff/smutt is in the epilogue. (I am a big fan of over-consent, if you know what I mean. My favourite book has one character asking “Yes or No?” for every single furthering of touch.)

This is the LAST part of the Disloyal order series. Read part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4.

Song: “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol

Writer: Castielle

Words: 1576

Pairing: Cyrus x Reader

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“Y/N, please open up!” Sam called, knocking on your door.

“Go away!” you yelled, your voice muffled.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. You had been this way for days. After coming back from your vacation with Cyrus, you had been quiet. Cyrus had been all over you and you had allowed it, but your mind seemed to be in a different place. Then, suddenly, you had become aggressive instead of apathetic. You had screamed at Cyrus (outside, so your brothers never got to hear any words) and then stormed to your room. That had been Saturday. Now it was Wednesday, and you still hadn’t come out.

“Let me try,” Dean said quietly.

Stepping towards the door, he knocked softly and then asked, “Y/N? It’s me, Dean. Can I come in for a minute?”

There was a pause. Then there was a sound of the door being unlocked. Glancing at Sam with a wish me luck face, Dean opened the door and went in, closing it behind him.

You were huddled on your bed. Your room was a mess. There was snacks on the floor and blankets on the floor and snacks in the blankets on your bed. Your hair was tangled and your eyes were wild.

Trying to ignore his sudden alarm so that it wouldn’t show on his face, Dean pushed away some cheerios and sat down on the bed next to you.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“No,” came your voice, muffled from the pillow.

Dean paused. “What did Cyrus do to you? Because I swear to God, if he...”

You raised your head from the pillow. Your face was tear-stained.

“I let him. But I didn’t want to. But I let him anyway.” You looked at your brother, searching his face for any signs of anger. But there were none – only sadness.

“And there’s nothing that will make it better,” you said firmly. “Ever.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cyrus was trying to read a novel – one of yours, actually. It was called The Grapes of Wrath, and he would have actually enjoyed it if he wasn’t feeling like a heap of trash.

He had never realized that you hadn’t been okay that night. How could he be, when you hadn’t said a thing? And now, any of the happiness had been built up as he got better, was suddenly crushed.

He wanted to die.

There were sudden yells in the bunker and Cyrus looked up from Steinbeck just in time to have Dean push him back in his chair.

“I hope you’re happy to hear what’s happened,” he growled menacingly.

“Wha... what happened?” Cyrus asked. His glasses started to slide down his nose as he stammered. He was terrified of Dean.

“You broke my sister’s heart, that’s what. And now she’s gone off on a suicide mission.”

All thoughts of his own suicide suddenly left his mind and Cyrus stared at Dean in horror.

“What?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cyrus’ breath was coming out in a very wheezy fashion. When Dean turned around in the plan of telling him to shut the hell up, that this was his fault, he realized that Cyrus was having a panic attack. The boy was clutching at the door handle, his hands were shaking, he was staring in front of him.

“Sam, stop the car,” Dean said.

Sam looked at him as if he were crazy. “We have to get to Y/N in time!”

“Just so that I can move to the back seat.”

When Dean scrambled in the back, Cyrus didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to notice Dean was there. So Dean (regretting every touch), reached over and grabbed Cyrus’ shoulders, moving his hands in slow motion, hoping to calm him down.

At least it seemed to snap him out a little bit.

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault, and now she’s going to die and I can’t live without her and she’ll never know that I screwed up,” Cyrus began to ramble.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough of that,” Dean said sternly. “Okay, maybe you screwed up. But you’re not going to be of any help to anyone in that state. You need to calm down, okay?”

Cyrus stared at him with frightened eyes. “Okay,” he said meekly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You let your knife drop to the ground. The demon looked confused for a moment (you were a Winchester, after all – Winchesters didn’t just give up), but a sudden gleam came into his eyes.

“Little girl.” The demon licked his lips. “It would be a pleasure to tear you apart.”

You didn’t feel like a Winchester anymore. But Winchesters didn’t just let other people push them around.

“Y/N, wait!”

You turned to see Cyrus, Dean, and Sam running towards you. The demon took advantage of the situation by suddenly leaping forward, claws (yes, this one had claws) digging deep into your chest. You screamed as the demon started to rip you apart. By the surprised yells, you knew that the demon’s buddies had leapt out of hunting to deal with your brothers and Cyrus.

You were finished. You knew that. People had told you that your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die. But, instead, you only saw Cyrus. You realized that maybe... maybe this hadn’t been his fault, not completely. And maybe you actually still loved him. It had just been a mistake, a horrible mistake because you had been so worn out from the past months and you hadn’t given yourself a sufficient break.

It wears you out so much that you could even start hating the person, Dean’s voice echoed in your head.

You suddenly didn’t want to die. You could even see Cyrus hovering over you, just behind the demon... If only he was actually here.

The demon suddenly screamed and flashed orange – then toppled to the side.

And Cyrus was there – he was actually there. He was right there, looking extremely panicked and worried as he fell to his knees at your side and reached out to cradle your face in his hands.

“Y/N.... oh my God, I thought I had lost you.” His voice came out high-pitched and wheezy. “Please, Y/N...”

You laughed and coughed out blood. “I thought I would never see you again. Never get to tell you that I...”

“Nononono don’t, Y/N. Don’t.” Cyrus put a finger to your lips. “I screwed up and if you say anything more, that means they’re your last words, and if they’re your last words, then you’ll die and I can’t have that.”

“I screwed up, too,” you said weakly.

“Great,” Cyrus said. “I’m glad we’re done fighting?”

You couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, we’re done fighting,” you whispered.

Epilogue

It was a month before your injuries were completely healed. During that time, you and Cyrus had gone to couple’s counselling with a pastor friend of Dean’s (apparently this priest had helped Dean during a time when he was really confused, dealing with the Mark of Cain and all). Cyrus started his own therapy at the hospital, and that seemed to work wonders. By three months after the incident, you couldn’t even recognize yourself – or Cyrus, either, for that matter.

“Cy,” you suddenly said one morning while you were in the library. Sam and Dean were out on a hunt and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow evening, so you two had the place to yourselves.

“Yeah?” Cyrus looked up from The Silmarillion. “Something on your mind, hun?”

You felt a shiver go down your back. You still got so flustered when he used pet names.

“I think...” You hesitated and swallowed, hoping you had made the right decision. “I think I might like to try again. With... you know.”

Cyrus looked surprised. More than surprised, even – shocked.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I mean, with last time’s mistakes and...”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you said. “I mean... I’d like to go slower and maybe not all the way at once. But I think I’m ready for something more.”

You couldn’t help giggling as Cyrus pulled you by the hand to his bedroom. He closed the door and then turned around – and stopped.

“Well?” you asked, grinning a little.

“I... yeah, maybe I better start off by taking off these,” Cyrus said with a sheepish grin, taking off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table.

He led you over to the bed. You laid down, looking at him expectantly. Cyrus paused, and then slowly began to pull your blouse over your head. You helped him with that, and your jeans afterwards.

“Do you want to stop here?” Cyrus asked. He was clad only in his boxers, and you in your bra and panties.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “You can go a little more,” you whispered.

Cyrus nodded and, leaning down, began to pull down your panties. After you kicked them off, he spread open your legs and moved his head down. You felt his tongue on your legs, working in further.

A moan left your lips. As his tongue moved faster, you grasped out at the pillow.

A little later, you just lay side by side on the bed, your legs were tangled up with his. You looked over at Cyrus and smiled.

“I love you,” you said for the first time.

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

What do I have to do to get a Cyrus Styne fic thats just fluffy smoot(smut) thats all i ask for please

Your wish had been added to the list!

- Castielle

[iguessivebeenwinchestered]

i love your page so much dont see you around a lot. if i had a follow forever you would be on it!

That's so sweet to here! Sorry we haven't been on much. I'm taking two four month courses in half the time and working 40+ hours a week. But I am almost finished a dean fic so that should be up soon :)Samantha