#Dean dying hit me a bit harder than I expected | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years ago

Text

New Life Pt.13

Word Count: 2,216

Characters: Derek Hale, Damon Salvatore, Laura Hale, Stefan Salvatore (mentioned), Zach Salvatore (mentioned), OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader, OC x Reader, OC x Derek Hale

Warnings: angst, near-death, fluff

A/N: hey! so, after this part, i’m gonna take a small break from the series, I am six fics away from hitting 200, and wanted to do something big and not series-related from it! If I write like I’ve been writing for the past few weeks, I should hit 200 either next week or the week after

A/N 2: Thank you all for supporting me!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“So, you two are real-life superheroes? Batman and Robin,” Dean looked more excited than scared, sitting across from you and Derek.

“Well, I guess you can put it that way,” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“I’m Batman,” you said.

“Hey, I’m the werewolf,” Derek argued.

“And? I’m the one who saves your ass and has guns and knives.”

“I’m older.”

“And stupider.”

You saw Dean laugh, shaking his head.

“This is great. I mean… you guys help so many people…”

You laid next to Emily, keeping your arms wrapped around her. Everyone else was asleep, Dean and Derek both laid on the floor.

You hadn’t talked to Zach, Stefan, Laura, or Damon in six days, instead, the four of you spent every day with each other.

You'd yet to tell Emily about the supernatural.

You looked at the clock, seeing it just past seven in the morning. You slowly got out of the bed, walking out of the room before Derek accompanied you.

“Going for a run?” he asked.

You nodded, walking down the stairs.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t avoid everyone forever,” he kept his voice down, leaning against the door.

“It’s only been 6 days,” you replied.

“Still.”

“I don’t intend on seeing Stefan or Damon for a while,” you crossed your arms.

“Zach wants us home. Laura’s just worried about us. She doesn't want to force us to come home but she wants to talk to us,” Derek said.

“Well, when?” Derek texted Laura, immediately getting a response.

“She wants to meet us at the Grill in 15 minutes,” he read the text.

You put on your shoes, nodding.

“Race you there, wolf-boy,” Derek rolled his eyes before the two of you ran out of the house.

---

“He feels really bad about it,” Laura said softly.

You avoided thinking about what happened with Stefan. You'd never seen him angry like that, especially to the point where he could have hurt you.

“I don't know what I’m supposed to do about that,” you replied.

“Laura, you said you just wanted to know if we were okay,” Derek sighed.

“And this is my way of doing that. Where are you two staying?” Laura asked.

“Emily's house,” Derek replied.

“What about schoolwork and studying?” Laura asked.

“Well, we have to go back soon to study for our AP exams in a week,” you said.

“Okay, good. Hypothetical, if Damon left, would you come back?” Laura asked.

“No.” you shook your head.

“Stefan…”

“I said no. Look, we have to go soon,” you raised your voice slightly, getting a look from both Laura and Derek.

“Sorry,” you sighed.

“It doesn't matter. Damon's saying that it wasn’t him,” you scoffed loudly.

“You believe him?”

“Obviously not. Just thought you should know.”

You ran your fingers through your hair, nodding.

You heard the bell ring, seeing Dean walk in as he waved to you.

“One second,” you got up from the table, walking to him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Have a shift. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. We’ll probably go home soon. Laura wanted to talk to us,” you replied.

“Okay. Em was still asleep when I left,” he replied.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Stay safe,” he whispered.

“Yeah, you too,” you waited for him to walk away before you went back to the table.

“I didn't know you had a boyfriend,” Laura raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“Well, I'm happy for you. Come on. I’ll drop you two back home?” Laura asked.

You nodded before the three of you walked out of the diner.

---

After hours among hours of studying, you all decided to take a break. Derek asked politely if you could leave for a bit.

You had your hands in your pockets, walking around Mystic Falls. It was rare for the weather to be good, it would either be too cold or too hot.

Dean was still at work, he'd get off in an hour or so.

You could hear footsteps behind you as you continued to walk, reaching for your gun.

You heard a twig snap, hearing the footsteps getting closer to you as you turned, pointing your gun. Damon stood behind you, holding his hands up.

“Following me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to talk to you,” you cocked the gun.

“What do you want?”

“I didn't hurt your friend. Or sleep with your friend. I only got to Mystic Falls that morning,” he said.

“Why do I not believe you?” you scoffed.

“Because…”

“Because you have your humanity on so you’re some type of angel now?”

“I didn't say that-”

“A vampire compelled her. His name started with a D. What more is there?”

“Me and Stefan aren't the only vampires in town.”

“Prove it.”

You saw a look of confusion on his face before he nodded.

“The Grill has security cameras. Doesn't your friend work there?” he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, before nodding your head.

“If you try anything-”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

“Yeah, the word of a psycho vampire. Because that’s so important,” you said sarcastically.

He clenched his jaw, slowly putting his hands down.

“Come on,” the two of you walked to the Grill.

---

“Hey,” Dean pressed his lips against yours, before frowning, seeing Damon there.

“He said he didn't hurt Emily. Do you think we can look at the cameras?” you asked.

“Yeah. The manager’s probably passed out by now. Just be quick,” he led both of you to the room.

“Is everything okay?” Dean whispered, looking at Damon before facing you.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you replied.

“The guy who was working here the night you left with him, he said that Damon kept putting his hands on you,” Dean said.

“It’s okay. Go back to work. I’ll see you in a bit,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips before walking into the room.

You looked on the computer, pulling up the footage from last week. It was slightly blurred, you squinted your eyes.

“That’s Emily,” you pointed to her face on the clip, watching carefully.

“That’s not me,” Damon stood behind you, while you raised an eyebrow.

You cocked your gun, watching him take a step back before you turned back to the computer.

You watched carefully, seeing another man talking to her. She pulled away from him, scooting down the bars before he followed her.

“That’s not you,” you said softly.

“So…”

“You're not in the clear. You think we forgot what you did to us?”

“I don't expect you to forgive-”

“Forget about it. We need to find this new guy.”

“We?”

“You wanna prove you’re not 100 percent bad? Help me then,” he nodded, before you sighed, walking out of the room.

“Hey, Dean-” you looked around the restaurant, unable to see him as you frowned.

You walked back into the room, quickly looking through the security cameras from the last five minutes.

You froze, watching the same man who hurt Emily walk up to Dean. Your eyes widened, seeing Dean walking out the front door with him as you felt your heart racing.

“He…” your voice drifted off, finding yourself at a loss for words.

“What are we gonna do?” Damon asked you.

You got your phone out, calling Derek.

“I need you to get something that belongs to Dean and meet us at his house. Hurry.”

---

You paced around nervously, scratching the back of your head as Derek ran into the house.

“What the hell took you so long?!” you yelled.

“Why is he here?!” you saw Derek tense slightly, taking a step back as he saw Damon.

“He’s helping us find Dean and this vamp,” you explained.

“Again, why is he here?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“We don’t have time for this! Can you smell him anywhere?” you raised your voice.

Derek could see the worried expression on your face before he nodded.

You ran your fingers through your hair, walking to the table as you began to gather your weapons.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tried to load the gun, accidentally dropping the cartridge case.

“Shit,” you watched the bullets falling out of it, quickly trying to pick them all up.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked softly.

Your chest was aching as you nodded softly, picking up the bullets.

“(Y/N)...”

“Stop asking so many fucking questions and find Dean,” you yelled.

You saw Derek's face soften as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“C’mere,” he tried to wrap his arms around you before you pulled away.

“You know you’re starting to do that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“When something bad happens and you start pushing us all away,” you paused, clenching your jaw as you shook your head.

“You don't know what the fuck you’re talking about. Now help me save him.”

----

You ran through the woods, Damon and Derek both following closely behind.

“You said he was here!” you yelled, turning to Derek.

“I…” Derek’s voice drifted off as you saw his face drop, seeing fear in his eyes.

You turned slowly, jumping slightly as tears rushed to your eyes.

“Oh my god,” you ran, seeing Dean’s body on the floor, nearly unconscious.

“D-Dean,” you stuttered slightly, putting your hand on his neck as you lifted him slightly in your arms.

“He's still here,” Dean wheezed.

You heard footsteps behind you, seeing Derek running after the vampire.

“We can save you,” you felt hot tears rush to your eyes.

You put your hand on his neck, looking at the blood dripping out of his bite.

“I have to go…” Damon dug his nails into his palms, taking steps back.

“What? No, you can't go,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N/N)...” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper as you held him tightly.

“You're not dying. Damon…” it was harder to ask Damon for his blood.

You would never drink vampire blood, if one thing went wrong, you would become a vampire.

“I love you,” you froze, holding back a sob as you stroked his cheek.

“Stop saying that like you’re gonna die,” you shook your head.

“Damon… give him some of your blood,” you turned your head.

“(Y/N)...”

“Do it! Now,” you could see Dean struggle to keep his eyes open as you held his hand tightly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you cried softly.

Damon bit his wrist, bending down next to you as he put his wrist over Dean’s mouth.

You clenched your jaw, sniffling as you looked at the expression on Dean’s face.

He frowned, before his expression softened, his eyes remaining closed.

“Did it work?” your voice wavered, looking at Damon.

You watched as the bite wound on his neck faded away. He continued laying with his eyes closed as you frowned.

“Why isn't he waking up?” you asked.

“I don’t…okay, let's just get him to the hospital, okay?” you nodded, before Damon lifted him gently, rushing off to the hospital.

You put your hand over your mouth, holding back your cries as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N)!” Derek ran to you, slightly out of breath.

“Did you find him?” you asked.

“No. I don't know where he went. Where's Dean?” he looked to the ground.

“Damon took him to the hospital. We have to go meet them there,” you explained softly.

Derek nodded, holding your hand.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“We don’t have time for this,” you wiped away your tears, before letting out a shaky breath.

“Okay, fine. Let's go.”

---

You sat next to Dean’s bead, focusing on your hands, which were shaking slightly. Damon had gone back home, Derek had tried to see when Dean’s parents were coming back into town.

You kissed Dean’s hand, your tears at bay as you looked at his pale life form.

He shuffled slightly, while you looked up, feeling him squeeze your hand.

“Hey,” his voice cracked a little before you handed him a cup of water from next to his bed.

“Hey,” you said softly.

You stroked his cheek, while he looked up at you.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“I feel good, actually. Are you feeling okay?” he frowned.

You nodded, before wrapping your arms around him tightly. You buried your face in his neck, holding back a cry as you sniffled, looking up at him.

“So, vampire blood can heal you?” he raised an eyebrow.

You nodded softly.

“God,” you let out a breath of relief, before resting your forehead on top of his.

“You know… I meant what I said before,” you tensed slightly, looking into his eyes.

“I really do love you. You make me really happy,” he said softly.

A small smile appeared on your face as you felt warmth rush throughout your body.

“I love you too,” you replied.

He laughed, before pressing his lips against yours. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you up.

You raised an eyebrow, only getting a shrug for a response.

“I feel fine,” he replied.

You scoffed, leaning onto his chest before resting your legs on top of his.

“Not in a hospital,” you muttered.

He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, stroking your back.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too.”

taglist:

@bellabadacadabra

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life

@eunoia-kth

@shortimaginewriter

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Along for the Ride

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3007

Summary: When you first started hunting with Dean Winchester, you hadn’t expected it to last this long. Together, you face all kinds of ghouls and basically become the ultimate badass couple. But when you start to think you’re just another fling for him, he has no trouble correcting you.

Notes: This is meant to be a fluffier Dean piece, but you know me, I have to have a bit of angst. I am trying to break up Dean’s darker imagines with fluff, so be prepared for Friday.

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

You swung your knife hard into the blood-sucker’s neck, his head rolling across the warehouse floor. You turned to see Dean saw off another one himself, blood covering both of your clothes.

“That’s the last of them.” He groaned, lifting up his shirt to examine the bruises and cuts. “That son of a bitch really put up a fight.” You wiped your stained blade off on your jeans and opened the warehouse door, basking in the autumn sun. Dean shook the dust and dirt off of his jacket and wrapped his arm around you as you both walked to the Impala.

“I think this calls for a beer,” you noted and he nodded in agreement. The two of you just took out an entire nest of vamps, a little celebration was deserved. And after a few bottles of beer, Dean texted Sam and told him that you would be a while and the two of you had an entirely different kind of celebration back at the motel.

The two of you laid together in a comforting silence, your arms wrapped around Dean as he stared up at the ceiling. This was pretty routine for your relationship. You had each other’s backs during a hunt and you were there to help each other unwind afterwards. Poor Sam usually just went and got something to eat by himself. You wrapped your arms around Dean a little tighter, that part of you close to your heart wishing that this was more than it was. But you could never tell Dean that you loved him. That wasn’t part of the deal.

“What’s on your mind?” Dean asked, feeling your shoulders tense.

“Pie.” You lied, laughing as he leaned over you, chuckling deeply in your ear. His green eyes- god, those eyes- stared at you intensely.

“I’m serious. What’s up?”

“Nothing, Dean.” You were usually a great liar. It was a skill that was required in your particular profession. When it came to Dean, however, you were totally transparent. You decided to change the subject to hopefully get him off your case. “Do you want some coffee? I’m dying for some caffeine.” You slid into your jeans and stole his flannel before he could grab it.

“That’s my shirt.” He huffed, finding his pants.

“I like you better like this.” You grinned, tracing a hand over his bare chest. “Besides, I look better in it.” Dean pulled you in for a rough kiss, nearly falling back on to the bed. You laughed as you pushed away. “Easy, tiger. We should go meet up with Sam. He’s probably been sitting in a diner somewhere all alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, poor Sammy.” You ruffled Dean’s hair and grabbed his keys with a devilish grin.

“First one to the car gets to drive.”

“Oh hell no.” Dean practically lunged at you and you squealed as you jumped out of the way, sprinting out the door.

“I would ask what took you two so long, but I really don’t want to know.” Sam took note of your change in clothes and put the pieces together. He had been typing away on his laptop looking for a possible new case for the past couple of hours. Luckily, most of the patrons of the diner just thought he was writing a horror novel.

“Find anything good?” Dean asked, motioning to the waitress for two cups of coffee. You couldn’t help but notice the way she leaned over the counter just so, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Did you want any sugar, sugar?” You rolled your eyes, but Dean, being Dean, smiled at her.

“No thanks.” She winked and strut off, her hips swaying more than you thought was humanly possible. Your eyes fell to the counter. Sam, having noticed your reaction to the encounter, started to list possible cases to distract you. He knew that Dean wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. But he also knew that Dean didn’t always realize when his harmless flirting wasn’t harmless anymore.

“There’s a group of campers that disappeared in the Rockies, all that was left in their camp was a couple of demonic symbols carved into the trees.”

“Sounds a little more like a prank than our kind of thing.” You noted, looking at the screen over his shoulder. “What about this one?” You pointed to a possible poltergeist case in Tulsa. “Four women over the last ten years, each found in their locked apartments with the words “Not Enough” carved into their chests.” The three of you collectively grimaced.

“Hell hath no fury.” You muttered and the boys voiced their agreement.

Sam was driving, so you flipped a coin to figure out who got shot-gun. A string of curses came from Dean as he climbed into the back seat. You smirked with victory and blew him a sarcastic kiss.

“Real cute.” He barked and you and Sam shared a laugh. You started to scour records from the town to see if you could find any strange or violent deaths. One in particular fit the bill. You motioned for Dean to look and his fingers grazed your shoulder as he pulled himself forward.

“Look at this. Martha Greenburg; 25. Ten years ago, she threw herself off of a bridge and wrote in her suicide note that she wasn’t enough for him. The police concluded that she was talking about her fiance, Haris, who broke her heart the previous day.”

“Not enough.” Dean repeated, grabbing your phone to get a better look at the story. Your eyes lingered on him with a sad expression. Something about the words hit you harder than you would admit. You didn’t see Sam’s eyes dart over towards you, a deep frown appearing on his face. Dean returned your phone. “So, heart broken Martha kills herself and now she wants other women to feel the pain she felt?”

“That makes some kind of sick, sad sense.” You sighed, resigning to looking out your window for the rest of the trip.

When you got to another motel, Sam suggested that Dean go in and get a room while the two of you bounced some more theories back and forth. As soon as Dean was gone, Sam turned to you with a serious, empathetic expression.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” His hand found yours in that classic Comfort Mode Sam way.

“Of course.” You faked a laugh, but it didn’t work. “Look, I’ve just had a few stupid ideas running through my head lately, but I’m sure they’ll pass.”

“What ideas?”

“Seriously Sam, it’s nothing.”

“Seriously Y/N, it clearly isn’t.” You accepted defeat and took a deep breath.

“I’ve just started to wish that it all meant more, you know? To him.”

“Did something happen between you and Dean?” Sam actually looked ready to smack his big brother upside the head.

“No, no, not exactly. I forgot what we were, that’s all.” You watched Dean come back out of the motel with a heavy heart and a sad smile. “But hey, I’m just happy I get to be along for the ride.”

Dean got back to the car before Sam could respond. He just looked at you with a sympathetic sadness that made you feel even worse. You should have just kept your mouth shut. You rolled down your window so Dean could talk.

“You two ready to change and head to the coroner’s office?” He noticed the change of tone in the car and scoffed. “Man, you two make ghouls look excited. Let’s go.” You gave Sam a pleading glance before grabbing your bag from the back and going in to change into your pantsuit. Sam and Dean found their bags and Sam punched Dean’s shoulder.

“What did you say to her?” He asked angrily.

“What are you talking about?” Dean snapped back, rubbing the now sore spot.

“To Y/N? What did you do?”

“Sammy,” Dean’s mouth formed a suggestive smirk. “I think we all know what Y/N and I did.”

“God, Dean that’s not what I meant.” Sam shook his head and slammed the trunk shut.

There was an odd tension between the three of you as you left the coroner’s office. Every bodies’ insides were basically mush, as if they’d hit a wall at 100 miles per hour. A strange burn marked their hands. Their lungs were also filled with water. Oh, and sure enough, every single one had the words ‘Not Enough’ deeply carved across their chest. Every woman was engaged, and from the reports, they were happy. Martha’s distorted jealousy took that from them. It made your skin crawl.

“Hey,” Dean said suddenly, pulling you to the side. “Are you okay?” You tried to hide all of the turning in your stomach.

“Are we really going to do this again?” You laughed, but this time, it wasn’t as convincing. “Dean, I’m fine.” His stupid green eyes were doing that thing they did when he was trying to get you to tell him something. So instead, you kissed him very, very convincingly. Sam cleared his throat and you pulled away.

“Martha was cremated. So salting and burning the bones is out.” He informed, giving you a strange look. Dean composed himself, still a little stunned. “We’re back to square one.”

You all wracked your brains to figure out what the spirit could be latching onto. You remembered something about the crime scene photos. Something about their hands.

“I know what it is.” You marched back into the morgue and pulled back the tarp covering the woman’s body. “Look at her left hand.” A band was burned around her finger- where her engagement ring would have been. “All of the women had this burn. What if they all had the same ring?”

“It could be worth looking into.” Sam noted, still giving you that annoyingly concerned stare. You tried to shrug it off.

“Then what are we waiting for?” You brushed past Dean and rushed out to the impala.

“This is what I was talking about.” Sam hissed at his brother. “Dean, you need to talk to her. She…” His voice trailed off. You would kill him if you found out that he told Dean what you said.

“She what?” Dean really sounded worried. If something was wrong, he wanted to know.

“She thinks she’s just a fling to you, Dean.” He blurted, checking to make sure you were gone. “She said she wished that what you two have meant more.”

“Why would she think that?” Now he sounded hurt. Couldn’t you tell how much you meant to him? Sure, he wasn’t super vocal about his affections, but he always figured you knew.

“I don’t know but she said she’s just happy to be ‘along for the ride’.” Sam sighed, leaving to join Y/N in the car, but Dean stayed back. Along for the ride? What did that even mean? He thought what the two of you had was real, which was not something he was used to, but did you think this was all some prolonged one night stand? With all of his questions, he did know one thing. He loved you- as sappy-romance-movie as that sounded- and he was going to make damn sure that you knew it this time.

Dean did not like this plan. Looking down at the small box in his hand, he shuttered. He really really did not like this plan. You and Sam were waiting in the car in an uncomfortable silence.

“Did you get it?” Sam asked as Dean climbed into the driver’s seat. He gave his brother a scowl.

“I don’t like this.”

“Dean, everything is going to be fine.” You assured him. “I’ll be the bait and once Martha pops in to carve me up, you guys will burn the ring.”

“Why can’t we just burn it now?”

“Because if we summon her, we can be sure that we killed her.” You knew that it was dangerous, but it could be your only shot. Sure, you were scared, but you’d never let the boys know that.

The three of you drove to the spot where this all started; the old bridge that Martha took the dive off of. The bridge had been closed for years, so traffic wasn’t a problem. You got out of the impala, listening to the river flow beneath your feet. You kept a brave face, but Dean could see your nerves.

“You don’t have to do this.” Dean protested, holding the box in his hand. “We could just torch this thing right now and be done with it.”

“She only shows up when the ring has a hand, Dean.” You held up your left hand and held out your right for him to give you the box. Instead, he took the ring out himself.

“You…” He paused, looking for the right words. “You know that I care about you, right?” You stepped back.

“Of course, Dean.” You looked over at Sam, but he was too busy loading the rock salt to notice your frustration. He must have said something. “Look, we don’t have time for this. Let’s just gank the ghost and get out of here.” Dean saw through your toughness, of course, but he didn’t argue. He did, however, lean in for a kiss. It was a different kind of kiss than you usually shared. It wasn’t lusting or rushed. It was slow and sweet and perfect. When he pulled back, he kept his forehead rested against yours.

“Be careful.” He whispered and slipped the ring onto your finger. Immediately, he was thrown backwards, having to catch himself on the railing to keep from falling over the edge.

“Dean!” You screamed. Martha’s apparition appeared in front of you, her hair wet and matted and her face stained with eternal tears.

“He’ll never love you.” She croaked, water pouring out of her mouth as she spoke. You braced yourself. There was nothing she could say that you hadn’t already thought of a million times.

“Let’s dance, bitch.”

The ring on your hand started to burn and you cried out, trying to take it off. Her hand latched around your throat and dragged you to the side of the bridge, hanging you over the railing.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted, aiming the salt loaded rifle at Martha. She flicked her wrist and sent the weapon flying into the water.

“It isn’t real.” She groaned, tightening her grip on your throat. “He doesn’t care. He’d rather roam around with waitresses and bartenders than be shackled down with you.” You tried to block her out, but her words sunk into you. “Because you’re not enough. You will never be enough.” Yout felt a sharp pain scrape across your chest as she started to carve her words into you. Through the pain and your screaming, you were able to tear the ring off of your finger.

“Dean.” You choked out, tossing the ring to him as Sam started the fire in a trash can that you’d stolen from the motel. Dean threw the ring into the flames before sprinting across the bridge towards you.

Martha let out a blood curdling scream as her image slowly burned away, her hold on you releasing, sending you tumbling over the edge. Hands latched around your ankle as you swayed over the rushing waters, blood seeping through your t-shirt.

“A little help, Sam!” Dean grunted, your foot slipping slightly in his hand. Sam grabbed your other ankle and the two of them were able to get you back on the bridge. Dean didn’t even let your feet touch the ground before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close to him as he could. You winced when his chest pressed against your new wounds. “Oh, crap, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You pulled the collar of your shirt down enough to see that Martha had only gotten a few letters before she burned. “Great, now I’m just going to have ‘no’ scarred on my chest.” Dean let out an exasperated laugh, pulling you back to him.

You were packing up your things back at the motel when Dean asked Sam to give him a moment alone with you. You leaned against the hood of the impala, knowing exactly where this conversation was going to go.

“Do you believe what she said to you?” Okay, maybe you didn’t know where this conversation was going.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Y/N, we all heard what she was saying.” Dean ran his hand down his face. “She said that I’d rather be off with some waitress than be with you. That you’re not enough for me.”

“Dean, I’m sure she says that to every-”

“Do you believe her?” He repeated, this time he sounded more upset. When you didn’t answer, his face changed with hurt. “Do you really think that little of me? Of us?”

“I’m in love with you, Dean.” You blurted. “That wasn’t part of the plan, but there it is.” Dean stepped closer to you, cupping your cheek.

“You aren’t just a fling, Y/N. I love you.” Dean cradled the back of your head in his hand as he pulled you in for a kiss. A slow and sweet and perfect kiss. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him. He had to show you that he meant it. He broke the kiss, those green eyes melting your heart completely. “Let’s get married.” You froze.

“What?”

“Let’s get married.” His face broke into a nervous grin. “Come on, Y/N, we already fight like a married couple. Sam treats you like a sister. I love you more than any girl I’ve ever known. Let’s do it.” The shock of his words faded just enough for you to respond.

“Okay.” You said breathlessly. Dean scooped you up in his arms and you laughed.

“I’m glad you two figured it out.” Sam smiled, throwing the last of the bags in the trunk. Dean gave his brother a beaming grin, setting you back on your feet.

“Come on, Sammy, we’ve got to get a non-haunted ring this time,” He exclaimed, giving you one more kiss. “We’re going to Vegas.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto;

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam swinchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #saving people hunting things

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stridingathinline · 1 year ago

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Yes! I love your brain! I have so many headcanons about girl!Sam. Like, I agree totally that Dean's protectiveness would be at even more insane levels. I think John's would be too but it would come out in different ways. I think in his head, he's aware of how hard that life is for anyone. But the few brushes he's had with the Hunting community have shown him that women generally have to work twice as hard to get half as much recognition and respect. So I think with him he pushes her harder because of that. I think he figures he'd rather she think he's an asshole but be alive than be dead and coddled. But he doesn't bother explaining all of that to her. I think like in the show he falls back on his marine mentality and barks orders and I don't think that would fly with girl!Sam anymore than it did with the OG version.

I think Dean would feel caught between them, because his Dad is still his hero, and he does actually love hunting. And he probably agrees that Sammy needs to learn this stuff in order to be safe. But when he sees her struggling his Big Brother instinct kicks in and he wants to help her. (And yeah, dates are definitely a no-go for a VERY long time as far as he's concerned. *LOL* Regardless of whether this is the Wincest version or not.)

I also think John was probably so focused on the mission that he didn't think about telling Sammy about a few things to expect as she got older, and that Dean might have been the one to have to explain to her that no, she wasn't dying because she was bleeding from "down there" and he'd get her some girl-stuff for it.

I think Sammy might have felt even more isolated, growing up with these two guys. Because she wasn't like them. I think sometimes she wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she'd been a boy instead (not realizing he loved her just as much as Dean, but he had trouble showing it) and she might have gone through a tom-boy phase in her pre-teens (helped a bit by having to wear a lot of Dean's hand-me-down clothes anyway) before hitting a stubborn/rebellious streak in her teens where she started wearing make-up and somehow getting "girlie" clothes and trying to do stuff with her hair. I think by the time she was in her late teens she might have settled down with a style that was somewhere in-between.

But it was about more than just fashion for her. It was her trying to figure out how she fit. Only to realize that no matter what she didn't.

And I'm sorry this got long and rambly! I have a LOT more headcanons about this (I also think about it a lot) and some of them definitely venture into Wincest territory though some are more platonic (but they're still weird about each other) and thank you for answering my ask!

Your opinion on if Sam was a girl but Dean was still a guy, how that would affect the Winchester family dynamics? (Especially between the siblings but I think John's approach would also be important.)

love this question because i think about it every day every night obsessively ummm.. w regards to the family dynamic i feel like jo is one of the only models spn canonically gives of a young, female hunter that also includes some detail of her upbringing. we know that mary was a capable hunter and was raise in the family business, but john doesn’t know this. we know that jo shows a keen interest in hunting, but is often kept at home to work at the bar for “her safety”.

i feel that sam’s canonical role in the series plays well with this dynamic: dean and john are more involved in the physical realm of hunting, training/fighting/etc. girl sam would be (similar to canon sam) much more involved with the research side of things, which may frustrate her more than canon!sam. yes, sam wants to be normal and thinks his upbringing robbed him of a typical life, but also— sam does enjoy hunting! i imagine that girlsam would feel very stifled and annoyed by any restriction placed on her involvement with hunts. although, i will say i think john would be much less restrictive with sam than ellen is with jo. sam is an extremely capable hunter, gender roles be damned, and john is (regardless of intent) known for gambling with the odds occasionally when it comes to his children’s safety (see shtriga episode). but at the same time, any girl-child of john winchester is immediately a mary effigy and he will not lose her twice.

i honestly think dean would be more of the perpetrator of trying to “keep sam out of harms way”, at least when they are in their teens. dean’s look-out-for-sammy disease is already terminal and with added complicated gender dynamics i think his head would probably explode. dean would probably be the one insisting that sam is never out of his sight (mr. the night my brother went to college was the worst night of my life lmao).

i think the biggest difference would be the very real threat of sexual violence (not that sam and dean don’t canonically deal with sexual violence! but just on another level); both on the job and from other hunters. i think this would tip the dynamic slightly in a way that would make sam a lot more sheltered than we see in canon. dean is probably the worst, most annoying older brother. sam is never going on a date, and if she is, dean is literally camped out in the back of the movie theater watching like a hawk. like she is never getting the normal high school experience bless her heart. their bizarre and psychosexual codependency would reach neil jordan borgia levels.

also everything about sam would just be turned up to 10 by misogyny. our salad eating, diet coke drinking, telekinetic, yellow wallpaper, sylvia plath loving, sad girl, rosemarys baby coded, blood-drinking, psychic, getting-groomed-by-demons, #1 live through this by hole fan, baby girl would be fully actualized by girlsam.

#spn headcanons #girl!sam winchester #winchester family dynamics #my ask answered #and yes it would definitely make a lot of the canon stuff that happens to sam even more disturbing than it already was

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sinnabonka · 4 years ago

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Hey Hun! Lots of love to you. For starters I wanted to say that there should be no cell in your body blaming yself in any way. You and your blog were hope for so many people. You were the "you are not crazy" of the final weeks, and I'm forever grateful to you. Instead of dying of anxiety I managed to have a blast in this time of waiting, thanks to you. I passed my master thesis, because you gave me strength to see past the fear. I laughed in those weeks more than in last 5 years, and all of it because of the hope you gave me.

The rest of the msg is going to be pretty emotional rant about the awfulness of it all, and I know my opinion doesn't matter to anyone but I wanted someone important to me to hear my thoughts, if that's ok. It's also ok if you don't want to read it ofc. It's like my breakup letter to the show.

I hear many people cheering for the finale and i find it really hard to deal with. I always considered myself an open person who fights for healthy love as the only redeeming quality of the universe. I could see people's point of view, even if it didn't sit well with mine, and I would always try to hear them out respectfully until they weren't being respectful themselves. That said, I'm fully unable to understand cheering for this type of spiteful content and hearing those cheers makes me feel like the entire world is listening to "this is how you treat your fans, this is how to abuse your power over naive sheep, this is how to keep dumb, hopeful minorities in check" and taking notes.

It also upsets me that the people who gave this show all of themselves and tried to understand it to the core are given no resolution, are spitted on and buried under the rug for doing their best to appreciate the art and the story it was telling. Yet people, who just hang around and watch the show doing the dishes, with no consideration to it's story or characters, got as nonsensical ending as their whole idea of character development in SPN.

I know people say that it was good enough, because it leaves space for guessing and own interpretation, but I feel it's really undermining the extend to which the finale was awful and hurtful to the fans. There is no end that realistically could stop fanfic writers from finding way around it in the world of Supernatural, so saying it was thoughtful of them Is like excusing abusive partner because "they could hit me harder, but they didn't. That means they care"

Lose ends, characters being written in a way that is totally not true to them and their development (personally my biggest allegation), dismissing years of story development, proving that it was all 'queerbaiting' in big part in the end (hell, even the whole "Cas is in heaven so do with it what you will" is a shameful way of appalling to LGBTQ community after using them so hard.

In the pie scene, the roles should be swapped, it's Dean who should say that Cas is on his mind and Sam explaining him that it's only right to keep on living doing good in their name. That's what Dean told Sam at the beginning of the season, when Sam lost Rowena, so it would be at least a bit poetic. This would at least give us some truth from Dean for once, but he died how he lived, in shadow of his fear to be true towards his feelings and needs. And as he died, he bound his little brother to the hunting till the end of his days, by guilting him into it on his deathbed. Guess Dean took after his father.

Have you realised what that emotional "love speech" from Dean to Sam resulted in? It was writers taking back Cas' confession after they didn't need our viewership anymore.

They basically gave us love confession to get us to follow the finale and when they didn't need us anymore, not only they didn't commit to the confession, but they undermined it by having Dean's speech to Sam go the way it did with obviously higher emotional charge, successfully taking back the value of Cas' confession and making it about a bait for "Tumblr idiots"

Finale killed my feelings towards Destiel, not because it wasn't confirmed canon, but because from what I see in the episode, they canonically confirmed that

- for Dean, Cas was only means to an end, which is such an awful way of ending Cas' character arc. They gave him everything he was scared of and nothing close to consolation price and they dare to tell us he had a happy ending, "because they said so". Well, I didn't see him being happy, and knowing what i textually know i can empathise enough to say that he faced a miserable finish. Even Chuck got an end that was better than Cas' fate.

- Dean, given power to do anything he could dream of, chooses to not even greet Cas, after Cas gave his whole life to Dean, told him he loved him and died for him. I know some people consider the little smirk of Dean confirmation of his feelings, but let's be real for just a second. If someone you deeply loved for years confessed to you, told you they thought you don't love them back, you would be freaking running to see them and tell them how much you love them. That smirk to me reads as "I'm relieved to know you're not going to spend eternity in mega hell that i left you in" and we really need to stop giving credit to writers for scraps like this when it's the last episode ever and we know this isn't going anywhere.

Not to mention that by having Jack bring Cas back behind the scenes it just highlights the fact that Dean didn't ask him to do that in episode 19.

As result, I'm unable to look at any Destiel scene and not think "in here Cas already loved him and in here Dean already abuses the power he had over Cas, because of his one-sided love"

And yet, the episode and endgames for everyone (maybe not Sam, but he was seriously pinning for Dean his entire life. Wincest much?) managed to be so bad, that not even bringing Cas back or following up on Destiel would make a difference in my eyes. I know you believe that Destiel would save it, but for me as much as it would be a redeeming quality, it wouldn't be enough to save this awfulness that writer doomed characters with.

And all the Wincest scenes in the finale... I low key expected them to make out and it made me feel physically sick. Also, cutting Misha out because of coronavirus is a cheap excuse. We all know better than to believe that, so let's not fall for the self pity play from the abuser.

If you managed to stay with me till this point, thank you so much for hearing me out. I hope i didn't anger you with my monologue. I will always think of the lamp when i think of you. The reality is that you were the lamp for so many of us in this darkness.

Love you so much, wish all the best to you, take care of yourself and stay safe!

Oh my god, if I didn’t cry with the final, I definitely am crying now. And now I have to explain my partner why I’m staring at my laptop and sobbing ugly. What have you done?

First of all, I hear you pain, my friend! I share it! I didn’t spend a second after the final without the feeling of my heart being shuttered into million pieces, being stitched back just to break again, and so on and so on.

I had my first panic attack in two years yesterday, when I kept thinking about the message the show sent to the fandom via Dean’s fate. I have a few posts in my draft on the matter, but I am not sure I will ever share them, because it is one strong depresso, and I don’t think people following me should see how fucked up it really is (if they didn’t get it by themselves, of course).

I want to remind you, my gentle soul, that the story belongs to us. We know Dean, we know Cas, we know Sam and others. We know that the final is not who they are! I know it’s hard to ignore the text, the canon, because it’s kinda godsent, but the truth is essential. And the final is not the truth.

The truth:

Cas loves Dean, he sacrificed himself for him, he saved his life on multiple occasions, he told all those beautiful things and he meant every word.

Dean loves Cas, he was on his lowest every time he lost him, Cas was his “big win”, his best friend, his brother, his white light that lead him out of his anger, hatred and despair. He took a dog and called it Miracle, he was looking for a job to retire from hunting, he didn’t kill Chuck - all of that, because the sacrifice Cas made was not in vain! The message was clear.

I choose to ignore the “Carry on”, the only attention it is going to get is me creating 20 more mails just to put a one star review there and to drop some more salty or bitter comments with it. Maybe I will read through some reviews, too, add them to my collection.

Maybe I will one day write here an article from scriptwriting perspective how fucked up in was, because that’s what I can do about it, without throwing up.

If you can’t ignore it, I understand it. It is painful, it is disrespectful, I hate it as much as you do, probably.

If there’s anything I can do for you to feel better, just drop me a message, we can talk about it. I am on the lowest, too, but maybe we can help each other.

You say I was your lamp. Let me lead you our of the darkness one more time <3

CW can suck my metaphorical dick (I’m tagging every angry post with it), but Supernatural is not just the show on CW, it’s a big family.

And you can’t give up on it! You can’t give up on Dean and Cas, you can’t give up on Destiel! It’s so much bigger then the show itself.

Rediscover the show for yourself, remind yourself that Dean and Cas are real, it was never one sided, it was always something amazing.

What is real? We are.

Don’t you ever change.

I rather have you, cursed or not.

It’s love, hun, and love always wins.

#the15yearshow #spn #destiel #cw #can suck my metaphorical dick #sinnabonka answers

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amoretheiwa · 4 years ago

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Why Dean’s Death Really Bothers Me, and Probably Always Will

*to my followers who have been bombarded with Supernatural content recently, woopsy and hello*

Don’t get me wrong, I am upset and confused and semi-happy about everything happening with Destiel, and how Supernatural ended in general. However, something I’ve seen touched on but not really discussed yet (and maybe I’m not looking in the right places) is how the ending of Dean’s narrative affects those who struggle with suicide/suicidal ideation (if I need to add a tag or censor anything differently please lmk). Yes, Castiel’s death and subsequent disappearance from the show is the Bury Your Gays trope through and through. And by not addressing Cas or his story again in the last episodes, by not writing his best friends of 10+ years even mentioning or mourning him more than once, twice, Castiel’s narrative and any representation was severely undermined.

Dean’s growth feels similarly ignored and disregarded to me. I’ve struggled with s**c*d*l ideation for years, even made plans. I’m an eldest daughter, bi, and can be self-destructive in unconventional ways. I share that because it’s just a few of the ways I’ve really connected to Dean Winchester on a personal level over the last 10 or so years of my life that I’ve actually been watching the show. It always hit me hard when Dean was a little s**c*d*al (or a lot), because I’ve felt that way. I saw myself in him. In Season 9 & 10, the entire Mark of Cain and Demon!Dean arc hit me so hard because I was in such a bad place and felt that lost, felt that debauched simply by existing, too. I felt as lonely and un-helpable as Dean was in that very ending moment. In Season 13, after Cas first comes back from the Empty, and Dean starts to drink way less and is all-around happier? I felt that in my soul. I’ve had people in my life that just being around them made the world a brighter place. In Season 15, as Dean grappled with the idea that his choices, his thoughts, his very soul were not his own--I’ve felt that.

Everything Cas said to Dean about not being a killer in S15x18, about being more than death, and being said from a place of pure love, brought so much peace to me (even with what happened immediately after). But the moment I learned how Dean died? And not in some heroic and ferocious “guns blazing” kind of way Jensen had previously predicted? But on some rusty rebar fighting vampires of all things? Suddenly all that growth, that healing that I had done alongside Dean felt a little bit worthless. It really made me question “if Dean doesn’t get the chance to live a happy life, if Dean only finds peace in dying, then what does that mean for me?”

I knew when Season 15 started that Dean was going to die. I knew it deep in my heart. I never expected it to be such a pitiful death though. To be so contradictory to the story I had been told. Dean survived hell and purgatory. Dean had been to heaven and back. He was so important to so. many. damn. people. He made such a difference both in the story and out of it. And then he died in what was honestly a kind of preventable way. He did nothing to fight it, nothing to fix it. And what hurt probably even more is that (despite Cas being dead/gone as far as he knew, which would any other time have equaled suicidal!Dean) Dean spent the whole time dying comforting Sam. He seemed a plot point, suddenly, in his brother’s life, and nothing more. And as a viewer who so strongly connected with him, I felt unimportant. I felt a brushed aside. I felt like my story, the one I had seen reflected in Supernatural off and on through the years, was just gone...worthless, even.

I’ll be the first to say that I projected onto him (maybe a little too much) like I might with any favorite character. But isn’t that part of why we tell stories and make characters like us? And tell the same stories over and over? It’s so that we can see people like us, who represent us, overcome the things we feel we can’t. So to anyone who looked to Dean Winchester as an example that you can make it through that dark night, as proof that the bad does get better, that you are strong and deserve to live, I’m sorry that the writers hurt you. I’m sorry that you feel gutted, like I do. And I’m sorry if you’re honestly still numb and in denial over how the great Dean Winchester who hunted God and killed Lucifer and was the Righteous Man died. But know that that changes nothing about how strong you are, how capable you are. Dean overcame so much for himself and for Sam and for Cas and for the world. You can overcome whatever it is you’re fighting right now. You are worthy of love, just like Dean is.

I can’t speak for anyone else, not really, but I’d be willing to guess there’s at least one other person out there who like me has been hit harder by this finale than we ever could have expected. If you don’t agree, that’s fine, but keep in mind that this is 1) an opinion and 2) others will see your words, regardless of if they are kind or not. Think about the impact you might have before speaking/posting/typing. Again, if I need to tag or censor more than I have, please say something! I don’t frequently post things of this nature and feel like a boomer with the tagging system

#tw suicide #cw suicide #supernatural #spn finale #spn 15 #spoilers #Dean Winchester

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themoonandotherslikeit · 5 years ago

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What the Rain Can’t Wash Away- Chapter 17

*FINAL PIECE IN THE LOOK IN HER EYES TRILOGY*

Sixteen years after Lucifer rose and Dean lost his wife, he finds himself with a teenager, a Nephilim, an angel, and his brother living out a Full House rerun with some seriously dark undertones. How will he be able to raise his daughter, fight monsters, and deal with the loss of the love of his life? Sometimes moving on is the hardest part, but with the Winchester’s there’s always something harder around the corner. Isn’t there?

Chapter Seventeen, Goodbye Isn’t Always the End

Dean

“El,” I exhaled her name and took her hand in mine. We had her chained down, so Michael couldn’t hurt her or us. She was pale and sweating, trembling. She looked like how Sam looked during the trails. She was fighting hard to keep Michael at bay. I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb. We had an IV in her arm to keep her hydrated. Ava was asleep curled up in the chair on the other side of the bed, I draped a blanket over her, wishing she would go and sleep in a real bed. She needed rest. We all did.

“Dad?” Eleanor croaked out, her tired eyes opening to look at me. She’d been passed out for the last two days, and I couldn’t believe that I was hearing her voice.

I scooted closer to her. “Yeah, Sweetheart, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey now, don’t do that.” I pushed a damp hair out of her face, my chest aching. “It’s not that bad, okay? We have a plan. I’m gonna take care of you. I always take care of you.”

“He wants me,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“He can’t have you.”

“I’m scared, Dad. I don’t think I can fight him off much longer. I’m not strong enough.”

I wanted to hit something, to scream, to fucking take back every stupid mistake I’d ever made. More than anything I wanted to turn back time so I could make the right choice and lock Michael up in that coffin for good.

But that wasn’t an option. So instead I cradled the back of her head to sit her up, and I slid into the bed behind her. She settled between my legs, with her head on my chest. “I’ll be strong enough for you,” I promised her, kissing her hair. I wrapped my arms around her protectively like I had been doing her whole life.

“I wanted to save you.”

“Honey, you did save me. You’ve been saving me your entire life. I don’t think I would’ve made it when Mom died if it wasn’t for you.” I stroked her hair, my eyes burning. I couldn’t lose her. I fucking couldn’t. I rocked her gently, stroking her hair. “Dad’s got ya, kid. I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Even though I wasn’t much of a singer, I found myself humming Simple Man low against her hair. It gave me something to do other than thinking about my daughter wasting away. Rowena was trying to find a spell, but she looked when Michael was wearing my meat suit, and she didn’t find anything. Sam was pouring through the lore, calling contacts, trying everything. We felt so fucking useless.

The chains around her wrists were inscribed with an Enochian spell to keep Michael weak, but even if they were working, he was still killing her. I wanted to take him back into me and go to sleep in that box, but even if they’d let me, doesn’t seem like Michael wanted to come out to play. At least not with me.

Ava sat up with a start, breathing heavy, and looking around. “Dean?”

I placed a finger to my lips and glanced down at Eleanor.

She let out a sigh and stood up slowly, her body stiff. “Any changes?”

I shook my head sadly. “She’s about the same.”

Ava stroked her hair and bit her bottom lip. “Why is this happening to her? She’s a good kid... I just... there has to be something we can do.”

I knew the feeling. That helpless, sickening feeling. I’d felt it a thousand times over. It was the same way that I felt when I dug that hole at the crossroad so long ago. I’d give anything for my family, but sometimes we just have nothing left to give. “I remember when she was a baby, and she had this ear ache. She had a fever. She cried and cried. I didn’t think I’d ever get her to stop. She was so upset and hot. I was terrified...” I swallowed hard at the memory.

“What’d you do?”

“Took her to the ER. Some ear drops and a bottle was all it took, but I felt like the worst Dad. I just kept thinking, Ave would know what to do if she was here.”

She smiled at that, shaking her head. “I didn’t know any more about kids than you did, Dean.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to face it alone.”

“We always did feel stronger together,” she admitted. “Dean... do you think she’s going to pull through? Think we will find a Hail Mary?”

I ran my tongue along my bottom lip. “We always find one,” I said quietly. We needed hope, and she didn’t need to hear that we’d already exhausted all of our options when Michael was inside of me. She didn’t need to hear that there wasn’t any hope left.

Cas poked his head into the room. “I’d like to try to take a look?”

I nodded and waved him in. He walked to the side of the bed opposite of Ava and pressed two fingers to her forehead.

Ella

My back was pressed against the door. It rattled angrily as Michael screamed and shook it, pounding his fists against the wood. It was already splintering, I could feel it. I felt like everything was falling apart. My arms ached, and I knew that I couldn’t stay like this much longer.

My eyes flickered up from my feet to focus on a presence that I felt enter my mind. “ Cas,” I breathed. I wanted to be relieved, but I knew better. I recognized that wrinkle on his forehead.

“Eleanor.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He nodded, the smallest movement of his head told me a detailed story, and I let out a sigh.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I admitted, licking my bottom lip. It was dry. It was all so dry. “I’m dying.”

“He is trying to break out,” Castiel explained, walking to me. He examined the door behind me. “He appears to be getting close.”

He pressed his palms against the door over my head, closing his eyes. I could feel a heat against my back from his grace pulsing through the door. “Damn it,” he whispered. “I’ve stabilized it, but it’s temporary. It won’t last long.”

His hands fell to his sides, and I took his hand in mine. “It's okay, Cas . Just... don’t let Michael out. I don’t care what you have to do. Put me to sleep and bury me in concrete. We can’t let him out into the world.”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that, Eleanor. You know that.”

“You have to.”

“You’re my daughter. You’re his daughter.” He cupped my cheek with his strong fingers and a tear escaped my eye. Damn it, betrayed by my own eyeballs!

“I couldn’t have asked for a better childhood, a better family. You all have to know that. Make sure that Sam knows that you’re my Dad’s. All three of you. Don’t let Mom think that she failed me, either. This time I’ve got to spend with her is amazing…”

“Stop,” Castiel warned. “You’re not going to give up. That isn’t what Winchester’s do. They fight stubbornly longer than possible. You don’t get to quit on us, Eleanor. You will tell them yourself.”

I could feel my lip tremble. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I was just so tired. He was so much stronger than me, and I could feel my own life source fading away. I always knew that love would destroy us. My family was built on it, brick by brick. We were glued together by our love for each other. “He’s going to hurt you, all of you. I can’t… I love you all so much; please don’t let him kill you in my skin.”

Sometimes I wondered what other families fought about. I was jealous of the simplicity of all of my classmates. I’d hear them at their lockers talking about how mean their mothers were for not letting them wear a skirt or go out with a boy, and I’d just laugh. They had no idea what it was like to watch your family walk out of the door and not know if they’d come home in one piece, or at all. Every day I watched pieces of my family being chipped away. They’d die, or come back different, a little harder to get close to. I could see the cracks in my father like a mosaic. He was still my dad, but he wasn’t the same as he was when I was younger.

I was terrified to know what his life looked like without me, but at least he had Mom. They had each other, and that had to be good enough.

“I won’t let him kill anyone, and that includes you.”

Growing up I thought Castiel was so magnificent. When he still had his wings we would go flying together. He’d pick me up from daycare and we would zip through time and space together. It was magical. He felt a little bit like a fairy tale character, forever in his trench coat, never really aging. He’d bring me back fantastical gifts from his travels, exotic candy and other presents. It felt like being raised by Santa Clause. He was fierce, and I knew that before he lived wit us he was a soldier, a damn good one I gathered, but now he was just one of my Dads. He raised both me and Jack. He was strong when Dad left to face Amara, rocking me and promising that it would all be okay. That my dad was a hero, but I don’t think that he and Sam ever truly realized, that all of my dads were heroes.

I smiled up at him weakly. “I don’t think we have much control over what he does, Cas. Maybe our luck has just run out.”

He looked down at me like I was breaking his heart, probably because I was. Isn’t that the point? You have a child, love them with everything, and then they break your heart. It’s our job.

“Cas ? Can I talk to Jack? Can you bring him in here and show him how to do it? I’m too weak to use my energy outside. I’m too tired.”

“Are you going to tell him goodbye?”

“He won’t understand,” I said softly. “If I don’t talk to him he won’t understand. I owe him that much. He’s still just a kid.”

“You’re just a kid,” he said desperately, but by the look in his eyes I knew that he agreed with me. He would do whatever I asked. He was a honorable man.

“I love you, Cas .”

He pulled me into a hug, burying his face into my hair. “I love you, too, Eleanor. I never expected that I would have a daughter, but you are so much better than anything I deserve.”

Ava

Castiel opened his eyes; he was under, inside of El’s mind for several minutes. His blue eyes flickered open and met mine, causing me to suck in my breath. “What’d you find out?”

“I was able to put a small block to help secure the hold she has on him, but I’m afraid it will not hold for long. We are racing against the clock. He is very powerful, and she is downtrodden as well as weak.”

“Downtrodden?” Dean asked, weakly.

“She asked me to bring Jack here.”

“Jack?” I asked, my eyebrows coming together. I had a sick gut feeling. “Why?”

“I think she’s trying to say goodbye.”

My eyes met Dean’s, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

“Did you tell her that ain’t happening?” Dean asked angrily. “We don’t give up in this family.”

“I did,” Castiel said, a deep sadness in his voice. His shoulders were slumped and his eyebrows knit together. He looked defeated, and it wasn’t sitting well with me. “It didn’t seem to make a difference. She is very tired.”

“Listen here, little girl,” Dean whispered into her ear. I could only hear because I was standing close, tuned in on his every movement since I’d been back. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. Do you hear me? You’re not giving up. This ain’t some farewell tour.” His voice broke then, his green eyes turning a little bluer as tears spilled over the edge. Eleanor was limp in his arms, her head lulling, and I knew somewhere deep inside of me that it was all ending. The book was closing on this chapter, and no matter how much we didn’t want it to, it was completely out of our control.

“Get the kid,” I whispered, pained. If it was what El wanted, then she should have it. She could have whatever the hell she wanted.

I turned and left the room, suddenly itching for a cigarette even though I never smoked in my life. I ran up the stairs and pushed out into the cool night. I collapsed onto my knees and looked to the sky. I knew that praying was futile. I’d tried, and no one was listening. So I just sat there on my knees waiting for something to happen, something to change, anything.

“Ava?”

I looked up at Sam who stood over me, towering like the giant that he was. My heart ached for him. “Sam,” I exhaled his name in a breath of fog into the cold air.

“What’re you doing out here?”

“It’s El, she… she’s going to die.”

“What?” He crouched in front of me. “We aren’t there yet, right? Shit I was gone twenty minutes…”

“She’s saying goodbye to us, Sam. Cas said she’s weak. She doesn’t want to fight anymore.”

Eleanor Mary Winchester, the little girl with many names, and a family that was large from the beginning. She carried the weight of both of her dead grandmothers, her father, and then me. But she was raised by three strong men who fought tooth and nail for a safer world.

“We always think we can’t fight anymore, but then we just keep fighting. It’s in her blood… she’ll, she’ll pull out of this. She has to.”

“I don’t think she will, Sam. Call it a mother’s intuition. I think this is the end.” She was Sam’s daughter longer than she was mine. She belonged to him from the beginning. “I’m not sure if I ever thanked you, Sam.”

“For what?”

“For being there the day she was born. I don’t think… I don’t think I could’ve done it without you, without your support. That’s the thing about us Winchester’s. We are stubborn as hell, and we don’t give up in a fight, but that’s because when one of us is too tired to go on we hold the other up. We fight in their place or alongside them.” My voice trembled as my tears fell into the snow, melting little dots into it. “I just wish I knew how to fight with her on this one.”

He slowly lowered himself to sit next to me in the snow, wrapping a protective arm around me. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Of course I do,” I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. I didn’t bother stopping the tears. I wasn’t in control, not over anything anymore. “You saved me, and I gather after I died you saved him, too.”

“Like you said, we all save each other. It’s what we do.”

I wrapped an arm around him, plastering the two of us together; the steady beat of his heart in his chest was keeping me from breaking in two. “What will we do if she dies, Sam?”

“We’ll do what we always do,” He said. Heartbreak was evident in his voice from the strain and gritted teeth.

I’m sure he meant it to be comforting, but as I sat outside in the cold, frosty air, seeking something more, I felt anything but comforted. I felt cheated, broken, and more than anything I felt completely void of hope.

Ella

“Jackie ,” I said, standing up from my seated position in front of the door. The rattling had decreased since Castiel put the block up, and I was grateful for the silence, even if I knew it was short lived. “Hi.”

“Ellie,” Jack frowned, walking to me. “What’s going on? Is it Michael?”

“Come sit with me.” I took his hand and led him to a couch that seemed to magically appear when my mind willed it to. I sat crisscrossed on the couch, and he sat next to me, his hands resting on his knees.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

“You’re my little brother,” I began, trying to be as gentle as possible. “And so I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Hear…what?”

I took his hand in mine. “Look at me, Jackie.”

He did.

“I love you, you know that, right? I am so glad that I got to be your sister.” I brushed a piece of hair from his face and offered him a brave smile.

“I love you, too, Ellie.” He frowned and sniffled.

“Hey, don’t be sad, okay?” I poked his cheek, invoking a smile. He had such a sweet smile. “I don’t think I’m going to make it out of this, but I’ll always be right here.” I poked his chest, above his heart. “As long as you remember me, I’ll always be with you.”

He took my hand, holding it against his heart. “But you’re with me now .”

“I don’t want to scare you, Jack, but I need your help. I don’t think anyone else can do what I need. You’re my baby brother,” I said through the tears that were welling in my eyes. “ I can’t do this without you. ”

The knocking came again, the rattling doorknob, the scratching, and banging at the door. He was awake, and we were running out of time.

“Of course,” Jack said softly, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to, Ellie.”

Dean

Later

Jack didn’t tell us what they talked about, and she didn’t ask for Cas to juju anyone else into her mind. I hated being jealous of the kid, but fuck I was. Of course I was. We were all gathered in the kitchen talking, trying to figure out what to do, if there was even anything else to do. She’d been sleeping consistently, but her condition was still declining. She was now in an oxygen mask along with the IV. Sam was worried we’d have to entubate her, but Ava and I weren’t ready for that. Not that we’d ever be ready.

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Dean,” Rowena sighed, her eyes red from crying in private. “I’ve called in the best in magic, and there just isn’t anything available to help the wee one.”

“Then they aren’t the best!” I shouted, not meaning to raise my voice.

“We all love her, Dean,” Jody reminded me, as she tightened a protective arm around Claire.

“I know.” I turned, slamming my fists on the counter before slowly sliding into it, pressing my face into my hands. “ Fuck, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t lose her… I…”

My head perked up as the beeping coming from the machines connected to El in the other room turned into one steady, long, drawn out beep. Before I could process what was happening, I was already running, Ava on my heels. I almost slid into the door of the room, but the door was left open. I stepped in only to find her bed empty, the tubes and wires hanging lifelessly from their machines. “What the…”

“Dean!” Sam called from the other room.

I exchanged a quick look with Ava before running back into the kitchen. Eleanor sat on the counter with her legs crossed at the knee. She wore my Led Zepplin t-shirt and her Harry Potter leggings. She still looked like hell, her eyes with big bags underneath them, sweat still glistening on her forehead. Her head was piled on top of her head, held up only with a hair tie. A trickle of red blood ran down her arm where her IV was ripped out of her skin.

She looked like the same girl who was lying in that bed moments before, but she wasn’t. I could tell by the look in her eyes, the dead, almost a mused expression. “Dean,” she hissed. “Do you know how much your daughter loves you?” She turned her hand over to examine her nail beds. “Far more than she loves herself.”

“Michael,” I said, my mouth dry. “What did you do to her?

The laugh that trailed out of her lips didn’t belong to my daughter.

“Ella!” Claire called.

“Jody get her out of here!” I insisted, holding up my hand to stop her. “It’s just me and you Michael.”

Michael smirked, letting both of her legs down, her bare feet touching the floor as she stepped toward me. Tables were still between us, and I could feel Ava’s energy twitching behind me. She wanted to run to El, but we couldn’t. We were at a standstill. “That’s what I wanted, too, Dean. You wouldn’t have that. It couldn’t just be us . You had to lock me behind that door. Your daughter is powerful, but she’s still so young.” Her hand ran along her cheek, and down her neck. “So easy to manipulate.”

“Get out of her. Come back in, yes . I’m saying yes! You know you want the premium suit. I’m your sword .”

“You were,” Michael said flatly. “That ship has sailed. Sorry for your luck, but I’ve tapped into a dark place within sweet Eleanor here. Did you know that she was guzzling demon blood since she was a baby? Its grotesque, honestly, but it gives her mind great abilities. If you would’ve cultivated that when she was young… I would have had a true match, but alas. I do not.”

Michael tilted his head, the bun shifting on top of Nel’s head. “ Jack .” The k was crisp, almost a flick of his tongue. “My brother’s bastard offspring. Perhaps I’ll save you for last.”

I saw Sam creeping up behind Michael, trying to use his focus on Jack to our advantage, but it fell short.

“Tsk, tsk Sam.” One finger was all it took to send Sam flying across the room, his back hitting the wall.

“Cut it out! What do you want?”

“Let her go!” Ava screamed.

Michael’s eyes rolled dramatically and he flattened the hair that was falling out of Eleanor’s bun. “I never was a patient man. It wasn’t my strong suit. I didn’t fare well playing with others, so instead I just chose to play alone. I think I am growing tired of this game. Let’s end it, shall we?”

Eleanor closed her eyes, and when she reopened them they were glowing blue. I recognized the smirk, and I turned to Ava. “Close your eyes!”

Ava looked at me, her blue eyes widening. She looked at me under dark eyelashes, her eyes fluttering shut. She covered them with her hands. I turned back around, it all just happened so fast I didn’t think. All I could see was my daughter in front of me.

They say when you die that your life flashes before your eyes. That didn’t happen to me. I wished it had, because I would’ve given anything to see my girls one last time, to see Dad, Bobby, Sam. I didn’t see any of it. I didn’t see anything.

It was just a white hot burning behind my eyes, inside of my head. I felt like I was boiling alive from the inside out. I scratched and clawed at my face, trying to put the fire out, but it burned so much deeper. It reminded me of Hellfire, and if I was being honest I didn’t even realize that I remembered what that was like. The worst part, though, was this horrible screaming. It was loud and inhuman, and it sounded so close. I just kept thinking, this is the end. I would listen to that horrible sound, and burn alive until the end of time. But before everything went dark, and I slipped from this life into the next one, I registered that the screaming was coming from me.

—————

Chapter Eighteen, If I Could See You One More Time

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specialagentrin · 5 years ago

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Day 10 – On the tenth day of Christmas, Wincestmas gave to me: a many-years-old WIP about A/B/O dynamics

Warnings: Alpha!Sam, Omega!Dean, A/B/O dynamics, Bobby being the best ever, post season 1, a lot of angst tbh, but hopefully a happy ending, although tbh I haven’t exactly finished this fic and don’t think I’ll be able to finish it by the end of the event, but I’ll continue writing it for you if you like it, idk any other warnings for now, except a bit of masturbation but now really all that descriptive

Dean wasn’t a scholar, but it didn’t mean he’d simply ignore whatever was going on in order to not learn. Sometimes he did have some very interesting classes, but most of the time they sucked – after all, he didn’t see how he’d use any of that information in the life he was going to follow. It was why when he was thirteen he realized he might not be an alpha like his father. Sure, he had the built and the strength and even the swag, but his personality traits, his attitudes, everything else seemed to point out that he’d be an omega. He couldn’t be sure, and he hoped that if anything went wrong – like him not being an alpha – that he at least would become a beta instead of an omega.

Life didn’t quite agree with him.

When he was sixteen, he had his first heat. His father locked him in a hotel room and drove Sam to stay at a friend’s while Dean’s “problem” was resolved.

They didn’t talk about it. John just managed to get heat suppressants and found some deodorant that would be able to fake Dean’s now sweet smell.

Dean didn’t go see a doctor how he had seen in his class omegas were supposed to.

Dean didn’t ask questions or even talk about it with his dad or anyone else really.

Dean kept it his dirty secret from everybody else and he hated it.

However, doing what he did in his life, it was almost easy to forget what he was. However, when he was nineteen and Sammy had barely turned fifteen, the younger popped his knot and Dean saw how proud John was, how differently they were treated. In John’s eyes, Sam was now more capable of handling a situation and was trying to involve the younger more and more in cases, but Sam was obviously focusing on his studies. While Dean didn’t understand why he wanted to study, he did motivate and encourage Sam to study and to follow his dreams – even if they were going to end with the same destiny: following John’s steps.

It didn’t exactly happen the way he thought, though. Sam, being an alpha, couldn’t stop butting heads with John who made rules and expected them to be followed, but Sam didn’t back down. In these moments, Dean’s omega side was so obvious he more often than not left them fighting and tried to get drunk. Seeing his father and brother arguing, hearing John saying bad things to Sammy and Sammy telling him he was going to leave soon for college was too hard for Dean to bear.

He tried his best to cope, though. But it broke his heart when Sam actually left. At the same time, he could once more forget what he was.

Then his father went missing, Dean went to Sam for help, found him with a pretty omega although they were not mated yet, and he relished on the fact of having his brother back. It hurt, a couple of days later, when he dropped his brother back at his place in Stanford, but even more so when Jessica died exactly the same way as Mary.

They managed to move on as much as they could, trying to find John, and all in all it was perfect. Dean had missed Sam terribly, and looking at the man Sam had become made Dean extremely proud – mostly because he knew that most of who Sam was today was due to Dean’s care, and maybe it was his omega instinct telling him he had done a great job at raising him, but this time Dean didn’t care. If being an omega meant Sam would become this wonderful human being, Dean was okay with that.

Things were good for a while. They went into hunts together, Dean almost died once, he learnt about Sam’s visions and eventually they found dad.

Then Dean went into a coma. Things went downhill from there.

First their dad died. He died because he sold his soul to the damned yellow-eyed demon they had been hunting for years. Before dying he told Dean to look out for Sammy and that he might have to kill his own brother. So honestly? Dean felt like shit.

They decided to go to Bobby’s house so they could take care of the Impala and even rest for a while before hitting the road again.

However, a few miles before arriving to Bobby’s, Dean started feeling his skin itching and body heat rising. He tried to ignore it, mostly because in a couple of hours they’d arrive at their destination. But then he heard Sam sniffing the air and he frowned, looking at his brother and then back at the road. It didn’t last a full minute before Sam finally spoke.

“You’re smelling different.” Dean hit the breaks so violently that they almost hit the front window of the car. Dean now understood his symptoms. He was going to go into heat within the day, so he needed to get to Bobby’s fast. Dean cleared his throat and accelerated again.

“What? Of course not. What does that even mean?” How could he be so stupid? Of course he hadn’t been given any heat suppressants during his stay at the hospital – he was in a coma after all – and after that Dean completely forgot about it. He had had so many things in mind after that he hadn’t even taken any of his suppressants. He never spent more than three days without it, and now, as if his body knew he hadn’t had a heat in almost a decade, it took this opportunity to come at him – and quick, if the slight slick coming out of him was anything to go by.

“What? Dean! You’re…” Sam came closer then, and sniffed once more. “You’re smelling so good.” His voice was rough and low, a bit of his alpha side showing, and that was when Dean knew he had to put a stop in this.

“Out!” He said as he stopped the car once more. Sam snapped out of his haze and looked at Dean scandalized. Before he could speak, though, Dean demanded him to leave once more. “You can hitchhike or even walk to Bobby, I don’t care, just get out!” Then Dean was leaning onto Sam’s personal space to open the door and push Sam out. Once Sam had his duffle out of the car, Dean accelerated even more.

Dean knew it was unfair – Sam was probably confused, not understanding what was going on and maybe even dazed because of Dean’s sudden heat. But he couldn’t explain now. He couldn’t just sit through two hours with slick coming out of his hole and his very alpha and very handsome brother. The little crush he had been developing for Sam – and totally ignoring it – would even worsen if they stayed in close proximity right now.

Some minutes later, when he was trying to sort out what to do and how to control his needs until he arrived at Bobby, Dean realised that Sam had acted weird. In the life they had to follow, they met many omegas and Dean was pretty sure some ghosts and even other creatures faked a heat smell to lure their victims – although his sense of smell had been completely off due to the suppressants –, but Sam had never been affected by them. However, now, when he smelled Dean, he got closer, he almost looked like he had lost himself in his smell.

Dean’s most primitive part of his mind told him Sam desired him – maybe just as much as Dean desired his little brother – and his body reacted instinctively at that. A low moan escaped his lips and he could feel himself getting hotter and wetter by the moment. He hit the accelerator harder and tried to get to Bobby in record time.

What could not happen was for him to be on heat on the road.

Miraculously, Dean did manage to get to Bobby in less than two hours, and although he was shivering, his skin burning and his hole clenching at nothing but begging to be filled, he knocked desperately at Bobby’s door – however he didn’t need to wait much, for Bobby was soon opening the door and ushering inside, mumbling something about stupid kids and how Sam had called earlier and asked him to help. Dean didn’t listen, he couldn’t concentrate much. But he trusted Bobby – who was a beta, so he wouldn’t be affected by Dean’s smell – and let the older man guide him to a safe room.

“Stay here. You’ll find water and food in here. I don’t think you’ll need much more than that. I’ll come check on you in two days.” Dean nodded and tried to smile, but his body needed relief and he started undressing even before Bobby closed and locked the door.

At that moment, Dean remembered how much he hated what he truly was. Being an omega reduced one to an uncontrolled mess. He had two fingers inside him as soon as his pants and boxers were shoved down. He let himself lay on the bed to find other positions in which the self-pleasuring could be good enough to end this burning in his core.

But nothing seemed to work. Because heats went on for days and after years taking suppressants and not having a single heat, it came in full force and nothing seemed enough. He needed to be knotted, and in his brief conscious moments, Dean thanked Bobby for locking him inside. He did manage to drink when the heat became slightly bearable, but he couldn’t eat anything.

Two days later, Bobby came with more water and to check if the heat was anywhere near its ending, but Dean felt just as desperate as before – in fact, Bobby was smelling like Sam, like an alpha, and Dean had to try his best not to flee the room and jump his brother and beg him for his knot. What he did then was to lie down on his side and let a loud and desperate cry escape his lips. Bobby probably noticed something was wrong, because he left after it promising to come back again in two days.

Dean started to feel a little better due to his fifth day of heat. It would still hit him at full force, but the time between the heat waves were getting longer and his body started accepting food. When Bobby came, he told the older man so and asked him to come back the next day, because he was positive he’d be feeling better. He was, in fact, better the next day, but the heat wasn’t completely over yet, so they waited one more day.

When it was finally over, Dean spent almost two hours in the shower and Bobby even managed to buy enough food for a very hungry Dean. He obviously avoided Sam’s eyes, although he knew his brother was following every step he took and wasn’t going to let it go so soon – but at least in front of Bobby they wouldn’t start a fight.

They were silent as they ate, and after Bobby was done he looked at Sam, gave him a warning look and stood up.

“I need to research some things now. Clean your mess when you’re finished, boys.” And he left the two brothers alone in the kitchen. Dean knew it had to be Sam’s idea so they could talk, and if he weren’t so hungry, he’d have left as well.

“Aren’t you going to explain to me what happened, Dean?” Dean was still avoiding Sam’s eyes, but he looked very interested at his own plate, filling his mouth even more with food before replying.

“I think it was pretty obvious what happened.” He simply replied, shoving more food inside his mouth, trying to be nonchalant about it – but obviously failing.

“For you maybe. I had no idea you were an omega, Dean.” Sam’s voice was somewhat desperate, and although Dean didn’t look up, he did slow down on his eating. “When did you find out? Is the suppressant you’ve been taking a good one? I mean, is it a healthy one? Jess had told me some were terrible for an omega’s health and body… And why haven’t you ever told me about this?” Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked at Sam as if he were crazy.

“Look, Sammy, although it’s lovely you care, you should know I’m fine. I’ll go back to the suppressants later today and we can go back to me being a beta. And we don’t talk about this. Never.” And Dean was going to stand up, but Sam’s hand on his thigh stopped him. He looked annoyingly to his brother then, waiting for him to disagree – because Sam could never let anything go.

“Stop, Dean. Answer me. I can’t pretend you’re not an omega and I will talk about this. Why don’t we discuss this now and stop all the headache we’ll probably have later?” Sam did have a point, although Dean wanted to disagree. “Were you omitting this because you were ashamed? Was it dad’s fault?” Sam didn’t even have the time to dodge the punch that hit him in the jaw. He did look scandalized at Dean though, and the oldest was fuming.

“Don’t you dare talk about dad. He just died! In my place! Don’t you fucking think he’d have done anything within his power to do whatever was right for me? For us?” Sam stood up as well, hands raised so Dean wouldn’t feel pressured. “So yeah, I’ve never talked about it with anyone, not even him. And it’s going to continue this way. In our lives, we can’t just march outside being an omega. They’re easy prey, helpless and useless—“

“Of course not! You’ve proven you’re anything but all those things, Dean! Stop with the stereotype that omegas are the ones in distress who need an almighty alpha to protect them. You should know, more than anyone else, that this is not true!” Dean licked his lips then and squinted his eyes at Sam. Then he just turned around and left.

How dare Sam talk like that? What did he know, anyway? He dated an omega, but as far as Dean knew, Jess was the personification of omega, so how dare Sam say that stereotypes didn’t matter? Sam was an alpha, his father celebrated when he first popped his knot, he could scare people just from his stare. Sure, Dean could be very menacing when he tried, but if he didn’t take any suppressants, he’s sure no one would take him seriously. And in his job, he could not risk it.

But the worst part was that Sam had insinuated that dad had done something wrong. As if not talking about it was a mistake their father had made. Dean knew his father was only trying to protect him – although deep inside he had his doubts, but he’d never voice them.

Dean headed out to his baby, finally seeing his beloved car after all they had gone through and his heart actually ached when he saw her state. Wanting to stop thinking about his condition, about dad’s death, about his discussion with Sammy, Dean made it his mission to fix the Impala. He took the tool box from the shed and put it near his car. It wasn’t long before Dean was under the car, trying to see everything that would need fixing.

He had no idea how long he spent with his car, until Bobby came to him, hands in his pockets. Dean looked at him before returning to what he was doing and they remained in silence for a while, until Dean sighed and turned to the man.

“What?” He knew he shouldn’t be angry at Bobby, not when the man helped him through his heat without asking questions.

“I don’t know, son. I was expecting you to tell me.” Dean frowned and Bobby just rolled his eyes, as if Dean was being particularly dense. “Your father never told me you’re an omega. Not that it would matter, but apparently not even your brother knew.” Dean glared at Bobby and then returned to what he was doing, still listening to the man, although unwillingly. “I don’ know much ‘bout heats, but yours seemed a bit intense.” When Dean didn’t say anything, only clenched his jaw, it was Bobby’s turn to sigh. “I just wanted t’ know when was the last time you went to the doctor.”

Dean visibly tensed then, hesitating for a slight moment before continuing with the piece of the car he was working on. Bobby, noticing his silence, crossed his arms, realization sinking in.

“You’ve never been to a doctor, have ya?” Dean just looked at him and then felt his shoulders sagging forward, as he let the pieces on the table. “Dammit, Dean. Go take a shower and get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”

“What?” That made Dean look around to see Bobby who stopped from returning to his house when Dean spoke.

“I’m taking you to the doctor, you idjit. And I won’t take no for an answer. Now, will you go willingly or should I call Sam and ask him to control you?” Dean gritted his teeth at the implication Bobby was making. With his father dead, Sam was technically the alpha responsible for Dean, but the idea of an omega having to belong to their family or later on to their alpha was ancient and he knew Bobby honestly didn’t think that, but it still angered him.

“Don’t involve Sam into this.” He gritted out, making his way inside to take a shower so he could head out with Bobby.

When he was finally ready, Dean made his way downstairs and heard Bobby tell Sam that he was going with Dean to town to buy a few things for their car, and although Sam was trying to convince Bobby to go along, the older man would have none of it and told him to do some random research for him. Once they were in the car, Dean kept fidgeting, not really wanting to admit that he was scared as fuck, but he was. Which was irrational, clearly, since he had never had any problem that required him going to the doctors to check on his reproductive system.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was too low, almost shy, and Bobby looked over to him at the driver’s seat, but Dean was avoiding his eyes.

“You have no idea how dangerous it is for an omega to go years without a heat? You’re lucky you didn’t have anything so far.” Dean still didn’t understand the sudden worry, because just like Bobby had said, he had never had anything. “We’re just going to see if everything’s okay with you and you’ll follow the doctor’s damn instructions or you want me to go in with you and hold your freaking hand to make sure you’ll take care of yourself?”

“Jeez, Bobby, I get it. I still think there’s no need for you to take me to a doctor, but chill. I’ll do it.” Dean still didn’t want to, but part of him was a bit curious to know, to learn more about himself. He’d probably return to the suppressants and buy a new supply of deodorants to hide his smell, but for now it would be interesting to know more of what’s going on.

-----

Oh my irene, this is so good -- so when you have time to finish it you totally should! And a WIP that you never finished but showed it to me, i, i feel honored. AND ITS YEARS OLD TOO!!!! AWESOME!!! I needed this too tonight.

#wincest #wincestmas!anon❄#I LOVE IT AND YOU LEAVE ME ON A EMPTY ENDING???#I LOVE YOUUUU #THANK YOU SO MUCH #submission

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 years ago

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Girls, Girls, Girls

Summary: While the reader is working a case undercover at a strip club, Dean shows up and offers his help. The reader realizes he’s not the same Dean she once knew though and has the feeling he might be up to something more than just the hunt...

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, stripping, smut (unprotected sex, fingering)

“Hi,” said a cocky voice at the bar during your break. You turned your head, eyes wide when you saw a pair of dark green eyes smiling at you.

“Dean,” you said, a flash of relief across your face he caught. “Are you...”

“Working the case? Just got into town. Figured I’d poke around the active crime scene,” he said with a chuckle. “You hunting or do you take your clothes off for the fun of it now?”

“I’m on the case,” you said, shaking your head at his strange phrasing. He looked a little tired though and you only saw him give you a once over in a non-pervy way, eyes landing on a scar on your thigh. “Rugaroo in Montana.”

“Such a shame. You got pretty legs,” he said, grabbing his shot of whiskey and downing it. “Want some backup? I’ll do the research while you do the...leg work?”

“Good one,” you said, rolling your eyes, Dean laughing and pointing at his glass.

“Another and she’ll have hers on the rocks,” said Dean.

“Actually I shoot my whiskey straight now, Dean,” you said, Dean holding up his hands.

“Well someone’s a big girl now,” he said, an evil little smirk on his face that made you shudder. “I taught you how to do shots if I do recall.”

“You got me so fucking drunk that night,” you said, hopping up on the bar stool, Dean letting his denim clad leg brush up against your bare one. “We used to have fun. Until you ditched me.”

“I was going to hell, sweetheart. I didn’t want to put you through that,” he said, a lack of warmth in his eyes you were expecting. “Besides, you got out of the life. Weren’t you living with a doctor or something?”

“He became a workaholic,” you said, taking your whiskey when it was slid over to you. “I left him and came back. At least I was good at this.”

“Oh you are very good at this,” said Dean, cocking his head, glancing down at your body.

“My eyes are up here, Dean,” you said.

“But the fun stuff’s down there,” he said, licking his lips.

“Dude,” you said, blinking your eyes fast. “Don’t be gross.”

“Oh, we used to have amazingly hot sex all the time, Y/N,” said Dean, leaning his elbow against the bar, resting his head against it and giving you a huge smirk. “God that was good. You prancing around up there in a tiny little bra and shorts that I suspect are hiding a very racy thong...brings back memories.”

“Focus on the case,” you said, grabbing your drink to go. “I got it narrowed down to-”

“You’re thinking shifter or wolf,” said Dean, your head nodding. “Me too.”

“You wouldn’t mind a little...” you said, Dean shaking his head. You walked around to the back of the bar and grabbed a letter opener meant for mail, holding it out. Dean reached his hand over, wrapping it around the blade before opening his palm. “Never can be too careful.”

“Don’t you know it,” said Dean with a smile. “I’ll watch the room while you work it.”

“How many of those cheesy one liners do you got, Winchester?” you asked.

“Enough,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he openly took you in this time, making his intentions clear. “When we finish with the case of course. You know, old times sake.”

“Maybe. Maybe you got to earn it.”

Dean was front and center during your routine, right there when you swung around the pole and dropped down, legs spread, Dean looking ready to pounce. Another shudder ran through you and he moved his eyes lower, your own closing as you stood up, hoping that you weren’t as wet as you felt. You made your movements easy as you moved to another part of the stage, starting to get a little pissed that Dean was focusing so much on you. If he was going to help then he should at least be watching the room, give you another set of eyes to see something. You knew the monster you were after used this place as a hunting ground and was probably looking for more.

You heard a big roar behind you when you shimmied out of your shorts, showing off your ass and the little thong. You turned back around, knowing that was as far as it would get. You moved towards the right side of the stage before you were back at the center, back at the pole and Dean’s lip snarling like he was going to lean forward and tear off the thin fabric with his teeth.

“Now that is a sight,” said Dean, slapping down some money. You almost glared at him and nearly kicked him in the face when he touched your leg but you whacked it off and gave him a point and shake of your finger, the crowd getting a kick out of it.

You were going to tear him out a new one for getting drunk on a case as soon as you finished.

“What the hell was that, Dean? You’re supposed to watch my back, not my pussy,” you said.

“Well they are both very appetizing things,” said Dean, chuckling when you grabbed his hand and pulled him down a back hall to one of the “private” rooms. “Oh, do I get my own show?”

“Sober up and in the morning, we’ll meet up to research. I’m going back to the motel,” you said, poking him in the chest. “Get your head in the game, Dean.”

“You’re so worried about this case,” said Dean, wrapping an arm around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He locked the door behind him, walking the two of you over to one of the couches. “You got to learn to relax, sweetheart. Even nerdy little Sammy has rough as fuck sex sometimes with those innocent types. But we both know you ain’t a good girl. Ain’t never been. Now I think you need to relax, or I’ll make you relax.”

“Fuck, how do you do that,” you said, climbing into his lap, cupping his face with both your hands as you pulled him into a rough kiss.

“You love my cock, that’s why,” said Dean with a hum, chuckling into your open mouth when you leaned back. You squinted your eyes, leaning in to take control when his hands caught your shoulders. “Did you love me?”

“Yes,” you said with a nod, ducking your head down. “I should have-”

“I told you to never come looking for me. You did what I asked and I am happy that you did,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes,” you said, Dean fisting a rough hand in the back of your hair, pushing your face right to next to his so your lips were touching. “You?”

“I never fucking stopped,” he said, moving your lips with his own. “Fuck, Y/N. I want you to be mine. Forever.”

“I am,” you said, giving him a kiss, cutting him off. “I’m yours. Now take back what’s yours.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that,” he said, the softness gone, pure sex and need back. He used his hands still on your shoulders to push you down onto the cushions, chuckling when he yanked your sweats and shirt straight off. “Aw, you keep those little underwear on for me? Been dying to rip these to shreds.”

You gasped when you felt your thong snap and pull away from your body, your barely there bra getting the same treatment. You whimpered when you felt a smack against your ass, a red hot burn that stayed when Dean rubbed his calloused palm into the soft flesh.

“Who does this belong to?” he growled.

You cocked your head, giving him a smirk over your shoulder.

“Try that again,” he snarled, smacking twice as hard before he kneaded the flesh roughly.

“Yours,” you whined, Dean chuckling as he leaned down over you.

“Ah, she remembers,” he said, running a hand over your head. “But you always were a bad girl, always getting in trouble on purpose, weren’t you?”

“Dean. Fuck me,” you said. He bit his bottom lip and started to work on his jeans, shoving them down just enough for his hard cock to spring free.

He settled behind you on the couch, grabbing your hips and slamming you back onto him in one move.

“Dean,” you moaned, his cock filling you up in all the right ways, walls clenching around him. He squeezed your hips, fingers leaving bruises before he even started moving. When he pulled back and snapped his hips, you groaned, Dean’s fingers digging in even harder. You rolled your hips back to meet his thrust, Dean’s grip easing some as you got the message.

He was going so fucking fast though. Even when Dean wanted a quick and dirty, it wasn’t this hard. You knew he was different now, something darker about him you couldn’t place.

“I wanna come inside you,” he said, nipping at your shoulder. “Let me mark you.”

“Go ahead,” you said, Dean’s finger toying with your clit. He started to rub over it, your nerves lighting up as you clamped down on him hard. He thrust forward hard until you were coming, Dean grabbing your hips until he was buried as far as he could go inside you, filling you up with his come.

“Good girl,” shushed Dean, running a hand over your back. “My girl.”

“You must have missed me, huh?” you said, giggling when Dean pulled out and you felt a thin line of his come trickle out of you. He swiped his thumb along the line, bringing it up to your mouth to suck on. You swallowed it down, Dean running his hand over your head.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

“You,” you said, blinking when it came out so quickly, no thought about making it sound sultry or anything.

“Good girl,” said Dean again, sliding two fingers into your pussy, moving them slowly. “Turn around. I want to see that hot face while I fuck your pussy with my own come.”

You sat up and swung your legs around so you were straddling his lap, wrapping both arms around his shoulders as Dean fingered you. He crooked his fingers, rubbing against your g-spot, so close to your last orgasm it didn’t take long to feel another approaching.

“Y/N. Look at me when you come,” said Dean. You met his gaze, panting hard as Dean worked his fingers in and out faster and harder. As your orgasm hit, you watched him smile, eyes flashing black at you.

“Who the-” you said, cutting yourself off when Dean kept rubbing you through it, a hazy feeling hitting you. “What...”

“It’s me, sweetheart. It’s Dean. And now, you’re gonna be mine forever, just like you said you wanted,” he cooed in your ear, lifting your hips up to settle back onto his cock.

“You’re a...” you said, some spark firing inside of you, making you grind down on his cock, slipping it inside you.

“Demon? Yeah. I am,” said Dean, resting his hands on your thighs as you rode him. “Got a problem with it?”

Every part of you said yes, you had a big problem with it. But the words never came out, not until you were coming all over again did you even realize you hadn’t answered the question.

“I think you’re satisfied enough,” said Dean, lifting you off his cock and sitting you down beside him. “Until we get somewhere more private.”

“It was you,” you said, Dean nodding. “You’re the...there’s no case. What the...”

“I had to lure you in somehow,” said Dean, tilting your cheek in your direction, giving you a soft but possesive kiss. “Now, I got you and we can get out of here. Although I wouldn’t mind the occassional strip show at home.”

“You did something to me,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “Yes, you-”

“I never did a thing. I asked permisison and everything,” said Dean, smiling against your skin. “You gave yourself to me, remember that, not the other way around.”

“You’re a demon,” you said, standing and grabbing your clothes, knowing you had to go and get some holy water or something. Dean stood up and stretched, his soft cock hanging out. You stared at it, Dean giving you a smirk. “As if.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to hurt your wittle knees on this hard floor,” said Dean, stepping over with a laugh. “You can suck me off later if you’re good.”

“You really didn’t do anything to me?” you asked, Dean nodding and holding up a hand.

“Well,” he said, cocking his head. “I could have lied about the demon thing but honesty is important in a relationship you know. And I suppose I should tell you that you might be a little addicted to me. Then again, you always were.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, Dean holding up his hands.

“Go ahead,” he said, watching as you brushed past him. “I’m at the motel off route twelve. Room 7. Come find me when you decide you want me.”

You made it four hours. Four hours before you were knocking on the door, Dean smirking as he opened it up.

“I hate you,” you said, practically jumping into his lap and shoving him back towards the bed. You kicked the door shut and had your coat ripped off by the time Dean was grabbing your arms.

“Relax,” he said. “So what if I tricked you? I only did it so you wouldn’t kill me. You came back and now that you’ve had some time to think, you can either stay for good or leave forever. It’s your choice.”

“I still want you,” you growled, Dean leaning down to kiss you. You melted into it, Dean pulling back after a moment. “You never did anything to me at the strip club. You lied to me. You made me think you did but you didn’t actually force me to do anything.”

“If you’re mine, you’re mine because you chose it,” said Dean. “So...I will ask one last time, are you?”

“You’re a demon. It’s wrong. I’m supposed to hunt you,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“Come on. Be bad with me,” said Dean, kissing along your jaw. “And I’ll be good to you.”

“You and the cheesy...” you said, rubbing your hands over your face when he moved away. “How bad of a guy are you?”

“Want to find out?” he asked with a smile. You lifted your head and nodded, a strange little smile on Dean’s face, like that was some actual joy he felt. You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a hug. “No more hunting solo for you. It’s not safe.”

“Dean,” you said, looking up at him. You smiled as you snapped the demon cuffs around his wrists, Dean furious, ready to kill as you shoved him back on the ground. “Who said I was hunting alone?”

“You...” said Dean, a knock at the door before it opened, Sam walking in with a sigh. “When I get out-”

“Oh, we can still have hot sex and be together forever once you’re cured, Dean. But your demon ass is going home and we are getting our guy back for good.”

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cloverhighfivewritestoo · 6 years ago

Text

The Empty’s Curse

👉 Read it on Ao3

Characters – Dean, Castiel (Destiel eventually), Sam, Jack, Rowena, Billie/Death mainly. A few others.

Warnings – Angst, fluff (eventually). Dean having a hard time with his feelings (duh). Destiel fluff.

Summary – Dean is dying and there is no getting out of it this time. After a round of goodbyes from friends, Castiel takes Dean on one last ride.

Words – 5390

A/N – Theme clearly heavily influenced by this week’s episode (14x07) (it was the one where Jack is sick and coughing up blood and they couldn’t find a cure)(And yes I wrote this right after 14x07 - Cas’ deal is in 14x08. So. !!!) A/N2 - Special thanks to @licieoic for the wonderful painting! Our soft boys were in good hands! <3

The entity from The Empty had had it. A number of people had risen from its depths over time, and the entity seriously had had enough. It knew it was all linked to Dean somehow and had decided to end this charade – it needed its sleep. And so, in a tongue-in-cheek fit of rage, it had cursed Dean to get a little more sleepy each day, losing his vital energy until there is no more.

It took a few weeks before anyone noticed something off. But at some point Dean fell asleep at the wheel, scaring Sam and Jack. The following days had been spent trying to figure out what’s wrong – and not letting Dean drive, which made him extra grumpy although he agreed.

They’d found nothing. They’d read every book in the bunker – again – and every book in the other capitum, and turned out nothing. Some Egyptian spells, some mesopotamian legends, but nothing really fit perfectly.

They’d taken him to the hospital. They’d found nothing.

They’d called Ketch, who, in spite of his vast knowledge, had no idea what could be wrong exactly. He’d contacted a few trusted old friends (much to everyone’s surprise) to try and search the Men of Letters library. After a few days, they hit jackpot – if a curse by The Empty’s entity can be called jackpot. Someone back in Egyptian times had had too much power and the entity had decided it was enough. The story said no god could change the entity’s mind, and the Egyptian man had withered away slowly.

So Dean was dying. Slowly. He was not in any particular pain, he was just tired, a little more each day. He would sleep a lot and, the little time he was awake, he would keep to his bed. He would not eat. He hardly drank a little water.

Sam was by his side almost every waking moment. Jack too. Castiel had gone to try and find some Shaman or anyone the Shaman would recommend. He called to check in every now and then.

Rowena had managed to get Death to come – without killing reapers – so they could talk to her and try to convince her to talk to The Empty’s entity. The tall, dark, timeless woman stood in the doorway. “Hello Dean.” “Hey Billie.” Billie – Death – stood there, unmoving. Dean added, “So, when you said, ‘see you soon’, did you think it would be this soon?” “Actually, no.” “Hah.” “But it is one of your possible deaths.” “Oh yeah, the books with all my deaths, I remember. Really?” “Yes.” There was a moment of silence in which Death walked to the side of the bed and looked down at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean.” “Me too.” Sam, who was sitting by the bed, asked Death, “Can’t you do something about this?” “No. This death is one of the possible ones. Things will keep in balance if this death happens. It is sooner than I thought, but, then again, I’ve come to expect the Winchesters to live much longer, or many more times than the usual Joe.” Dean didn’t like the answer. “So you’re not going to help us. But you said to me, I remember, you said I was important. That I had work to do. And there is still work to do.” Death turned to Dean. “You have a point. I’ll try to talk to The Empty. But I can’t promise anything; I have no power over it.” Her gaze became unfocused a moment. She blinked. “It said no. And it said it’s claiming you. I’m sorry, Dean, I am.” So Death couldn’t help. The Empty wouldn’t let Dean live. That meant Castiel’s search wouldn’t do anything to help. But even with this news Castiel just kept pressing on, hopelessly trying to find a loophole, something they could try that they hadn’t thought of. He literally scoured the Earth for any specialist in supernatural matters. Yet his hope was his only; everyone else had understood Dean was dying for real, for good, forever.

The first few days after they all realized the inevitable, Sam had cried in silence by Dean’s bed. A lot. He had tried to keep it in when Dean was awake but sometimes Dean was only half asleep and a tear would roll down his cheek as he heard his brother’s muffled sobs. Days passed, and Sam simply felt numb. A kind of routine settled in, a familiarity with seeing Dean bedridden. Dean had told Sam to get out, go on hunts, get some air. Sam had tried, but had botched the jobs, unable to focus. He even got a few bad injuries. So Sam stayed at the bunker. Dean didn’t have enough energy in him to tease him about being a sloppy hunter.

One afternoon, Dean waited until Jack had left to run some errands to talk to Sam. “I’m sorry, Sammy.” “For what?” “I promised I’d look after you, and here I am, dying on you.” “Dean, don’t say that.” “Still…” “Dean… It’s not your fault.” “But it’s not what I wanted.” He looked at nothing in particular, and said, mostly to himself, “Plus, I’m a hunter, a warrior. I shouldn’t go out like this. This is unfitting.” Sam couldn’t come up with anything to say to that, really. So he just sat there. Dean laid in silence. Sam had his head down, his hands white with clasping them together too hard, his mouth a thin line. “Sammy.” Sam looked up, his hands regained a little colour. He waited. “Sammy, I wish we’d spent more time together.” Sam cocked his head. “But… we’re almost always together.” “That’s not what I mean. I mean, we should have done things together, have a little fun. Not just work. When’s the last time we played pool just for fun, not to hustle anyone?” Sam looked down at his hands. “I honestly can’t remember.” He looked up in Dean’s direction, his eyes unfocused. “But… you know… between everything that’s happened… When’s the last time we actually had time to even think about doing… anything, really?” Dean looked away. “I know.”

Days passed, and turned into weeks. Sam still couldn’t hunt. He felt the more time passed, the closer they must be to the end, and he couldn’t bear thinking of being away when it would happen. Castiel checked in more often, but kept searching still.

Ketch had come by and had told Dean he had pulled every string and every favour to try to find someone who could help, without any success. Dean had thanked him for his efforts. Still, Ketch insisted he was profoundly sorry. He added, with more emotion than both thought possible, that he had hoped he could have made it up to him and he had hoped they could have been partners, even friends. Dean had just said, “alright, alright” but had shook his hand nonetheless, adding, “sorry man, we’re out of time.”

Other people had come – Jody, Donna, Claire… Most didn’t know what to say, cried, held Dean, he cried, held them, they tried to find something to say, couldn’t find much, sat around a while, told stories, memories they’d keep with them of time spent together on hunts and whatnots. Made promises of being badass and keep helping people.

Who took Dean’s going away the hardest? It was not a contest anyway, but Claire sure stood out. She kept apologizing for her behavior, Dean kept telling her it’s fine, she’s turned out a strong, capable, resourceful woman, whispering he’s proud of her into her hair as she held on to him, trying to calm down between sobs.

With people coming and going, Sam and Jack had taken turns watching over Dean, who slept even more. After people had stopped coming, they’d kept to this habit, with Rowena popping in from time to time with some spell she’d found to give him more energy or keep him more awake – the effects of which would be very short-lived, at best.

Castiel finally came back. He looked exhausted, but the kind of exhaustion that goes beyond the body. Sam and Jack welcomed him back, hugs were exchanged, news of Dean’s state given. Sam warned Castiel, “Don’t get too startled, he’s lost quite a bit of weight. I kept his beard a little longer so he wouldn’t look too scary with his sunken cheeks. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I don’t want him to worry about it.” Castiel had assured him he could not be scared by Dean and proceeded to go see him. Sam and Jack let him go alone. Watching Castiel walk away, Sam coughed down a lump in his throat.

Castiel came into Dean’s room. Dean was sleeping. Castiel usually stood around, forgetting altogether the use of chairs, but this time, he pulled a chair, wanting to be close to Dean, knowing he’ll be there a while. Dean was lying on his back, seemingly sleeping peacefully. There were a few comforters on top of him; he was probably cold, what with his lack of energy. Castiel touched his shoulder. Indeed, Dean was colder than a human should be. He tried to warm him up with his grace, but it didn’t work. Dean didn’t even wake up. Castiel looked at him, his hair grown out, his beard short, but effectively covering some of the sunken in cheeks. Dean wasn’t scary, Castiel thought. He was heart-wrenching. He took Dean’s hand in his, looking at his face.

He felt a squeeze of his hand as he saw Dean’s eyes open slowly. “Cas…” Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand harder. “Cas…” “Hello, Dean.” They looked at each other with horror and sorrow, realizing those two words were probably spoken for the last time. They both knew Castiel wouldn’t leave Dean’s side a single instant now.

Castiel was surprised that, in spite of his state, Dean’s eyes were still a most vibrant green. Castiel didn’t understand why, but he had the sudden urge to get a few strands of hair out of Dean’s face. It was unnecessary – Dean’s hair wasn’t that long – but he wanted to touch him, to feel he was still here. He was already holding Dean’s hand, but it didn’t seem enough. He bent over a bit and smoothed out the hair out of Dean’s face, gently. Dean closed his eyes and turned his face ever so slightly into Castiel’s touch.

Castiel let his hand rest by Dean’s head and, with his thumb, stroke his hair by his ear. He shifted his weight, knowing he’d stay like this for a while. Dean leaned in a little. Castiel looked at his beautiful face, still beautiful in spite of the weight loss. “How did we get to this?” Dean opened his eyes, but didn’t look at Castiel. “You know. It seems I managed to piss off a cosmic entity.” He looked up at Castiel, and, with a sad smile, said, “seems we have something in common.” “Yes, but I pissed him off to come back to you.” Dean closed his eyes, his brow furrowed, his face a grimace of sadness, as he leaned more into Castiel’s hand. “I’m sorry.” “That’s not what I meant – Dean…” Castiel took Dean’s face in both hands. “Dean, don’t… I’m not saying…” He let go of Dean's face. Dean grabbed Castiel’s shoulder and pulled at his trenchcoat. “Cas…” Castiel, without even thinking, bent down and took Dean in his arms. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, sobbing. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” “It’s not your fault.” “Yes, it is.” “It doesn’t matter.” “Don’t go.” “I’m not going anywhere.” They stayed like this for a while, Dean going from calming down to panicking again because he knows this is the end and there’s nothing he can do. The powerlessness was unbearable. Abandoning everyone in his care was unbearable. Focusing back on Castiel’s arms around him made him forget his guilt for a moment. But then it came back in waves and he panicked again. Castiel would hold him closer then and Dean could feel Castiel’s eyelashes brush close to his own.

Sam, having heard nothing for a while, thought Dean had fallen asleep again. He went by to talk to Castiel but, as he came to the door, he saw his brother holding on to his angel for dear life. The joy of seeing Dean finally letting his walls down about Castiel filled him with tremendous joy. And knowing the timing was the worst filled him with immense sadness. He didn’t know if he was smiling or crying, but his heart was the heaviest it had been in a while. He closed the door silently.

Inside, Castiel felt Dean’s arms fall to his sides. Exhausted, Dean had fallen asleep. Castiel straightened up, stroke Dean’s cheek softly and tucked him in. He took Dean’s hand in his and watched over him.

Dean’s eyes opened. How much time had he slept? He couldn’t tell. The light in the room was the same, Castiel was the same, sitting by the bed, holding his hand. Cas. The only true constant in his life. Cas. Castiel, looking at Dean waking up, didn’t go for his usual 'Hello, Dean.' He couldn’t anymore. Every 'Hello, Dean' would feel like it was the very last one, as if it could provoke Dean’s end. Instead, Castiel smiled at Dean. Dean smiled back and gave Castiel’s hand a little squeeze. Looking into his angel’s blue eyes, he felt his heart grow in size, his breath hitch. “Hello, Cas.” Castiel smiled even more. “Hi. Did you sleep well?” “I dreamed you were holding my hand everywhere we went.” “We’re not going anywhere, but it is not a dream, I am holding your hand. I’m not letting you go.” “It felt nice in my dreams.” Castiel stroke Dean’s hand with his thumb. “It feels nice right here.” “We should go somewhere.” “What?” “We should go somewhere. I’d like to be with Baby again, ride in her.” “You can’t drive.” “You can.” “You never let me drive her.” “Soon I won’t be around to keep anyone from driving her. Hell, I even taught Jack to drive with her. So, you know, of course you can drive her.”

On the front seat was Dean wrapped in blankets, buckled up tight so he didn’t have to spend too much energy sitting up. Castiel was at the wheel. Sam was leaning on his arms into the window, asking where they were going and how long. Castiel didn’t know. Dean didn’t know. “For a drive.” was the only answer. Sam made sure Castiel had his phone and wished them a good afternoon.

Castiel kept his eyes on the road. Now and then, he’d glance to see if Dean was still awake. Invariably, he’d see him leaning against the door, not unlike a human burrito in all his blankets, his eyes half closed against the sun, a soft smile on his face. Sometimes Dean would close his eyes and breathe deeply as he listened to Baby’s engine as if it were the only music he’d ever cared for, and then he’d open his eyes again, looking at the scenery through his eyelashes.

Castiel wondered how far they’d go like this. Not that he minded going to the ends of the Earth with Dean. And he liked driving Baby, he realized. He turned to look at Dean again and saw a flash of green staring at him contently. He looked like he had been staring for a while. “Cas, do you think you can drive with one hand?” Castiel didn’t know what to make of that question. “Um…” “Cas…” Castiel saw Dean undo his blankets, lean a bit closer and offer his hand. “I’m tired, Cas.” Castiel took Dean’s hand in his. Dean looked down at their hands, his eyes drooping. He unbuckled himself and scooted closer, and he laid his head on Castiel’s shoulder. He interlaced their fingers. The touch of Cas. The smell of Cas. The low rumble of Baby. He fell asleep with a smile.

Dean woke up in a hotel room at the crack of dawn. The weight on his chest… Cas’ arm. His left side being warmer than his right side… Cas is… Oh. Cas is lying against him, holding him. “Dean…” “Hello, Cas.” Dean closed his eyes as he moved to hold Castiel closer. He almost fell back to sleep. “Did you sleep well?” Dean opened his eyes again. “Better than in a long time.” Dean turned his head to rest his cheek against Castiel’s forehead. “If I’d known I’d sleep so good with you by my side, I think I’d have done it sooner.” Dean closed his eyes, and turned his head a little more to brush his lips against Castiel’s forehead. He absentmindedly gave him a little kiss.

Castiel shifted a little and looked up at Dean. They stayed like this, lost in the green, lost in the blue. In that very moment, Dean had no concept of the bad luck that had befallen him. There was no curse from the entity from The Empty. There was no having lost so many people over the years, there were no epic battles against demons and angels. In that very moment, all of Dean’s universe was Castiel’s eyes and Castiel’s touch. Dean, without even thinking about it, cupped Castiel’s cheek. With his thumb, he stoked his eyebrow and trailed down his cheek to his jaw. He slid his hand to the back of Castiel’s head and played in his hair.

Dean suddenly stopped, his eyes wide. “Wait. How did we get here? Last thing I remember, I was falling asleep in the car.” Castiel smiled. “I kept driving, seeing you slept so soundly. As the sun started to go down, I spotted a lake nearby. I carried you by the lake and sat us on the shore, holding you close so you wouldn’t fall. I thought, if you’d wake up and see the sunset, you’d like it. Then night fell and there were so many stars it was beautiful. I thought, maybe you’ll wake up and see the stars. At some point, I couldn’t keep you warm enough, so I found this little hotel and got us a room. I did my best to keep you warm. You don’t seem so bad.” Dean thought for a moment. “You mean… You took me on a date and I slept through it?” Castiel was confused. “Is that what a date is?” Dean laughed softly. He started playing in Castiel’s hair again. “And a good one, too. I’m sorry I slept through it.” “It’s alright, Dean. You can’t help it. And, I saw you smile a few times in your sleep. You never smiled in your sleep.”

Even if Dean knew Castiel had watched him sleep often, so often, it dawned on him that Castiel didn’t do that with anyone else. Since the very beginning, Castiel had watched over him, making sure Dean is alright. Maybe Castiel didn’t know human emotions at first, but his care for him was already present, very present. He always came when he called. He even came when he didn’t really call, but just… thought of calling. Dean had been demanding sometimes, and Castiel had been very busy with angel wars, but Castiel had come and helped Dean. Dean realized that even if Castiel had been grumpy or even angry at him sometimes, he never felt Castiel would stop being his friend, ever. And then he realized how stupid it is to use the word 'friend' when you’re holding each other, in a bed, looking into each other’s eyes, playing in his hair. Dean thought about the things he’d done without thinking about them – holding on to Castiel, holding his hand, that little kiss he just gave him, being calm whenever he felt Castiel close to him. And Castiel never shying away, always welcoming every one of Dean’s touches, sometimes giving him what he needs before he even knows he needs it.

“Cas…” “Yes, Dean.” “Do you…” He couldn’t say it. Love. He just can’t say it. If Castiel said no, he’d die, for real, right here, right now. Castiel squinted a little. What was it that Dean wanted to know? “Do I what, Dean?” Dean was stuck. It all seemed ridiculous. Here they were, in each other’s arms. But, then again, Castiel always did exactly what Dean wanted or needed, nothing more. He responded to Dean, but did anything come from Castiel himself? Did Castiel want any of this? Dean’s head started spinning with questions, doubts, fear. He let go of Castiel and shifted on his back, looking at the ceiling, sighing.“

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Castiel propped himself on his elbow, looking down at Dean. “Dean. What’s wrong?” Dean passed his hand in his own hair, looked up at Castiel. His question came soft, almost a whisper. “Why do you do all this anyway?” Castiel cocked his head. “All this what?” Dean gestured vaguely, looking about the room. “This. All of this. Everything you do, everything you did. Like, watching me sleep. Or, I don’t know, running complicated errands to get stuff for us. Or… You know, all the things you did. Every time you came when I called. You know. Everything.” “You ask me why do I do all of it?” Dean looked intensely at the wallpaper. “Yes…”

Castiel took a moment, looking into Dean’s eyes until Dean looked back into his. “I love you, Dean. Always have.” Dean seemed surprised. “Since we first met? But I stabbed you.” Castiel smiled. “Before that. Since I rescued you from Hell.” Dean’s eyes were wide. “Whoa… Really?” “The angels were right when they said I was lost as soon as I laid a hand on you. I had never felt emotions like this. I was, indeed, as an angel, lost.” Dean was speechless. Tears brimmed his eyes, he didn’t know why. Castiel continued, “Everything I did, I did for you. I still do. You’re the most important thing in my eternal life.”

Dean’s vision blurred. He felt the tears rolling down. He blinked, trying to keep Castiel in focus, trying to not lose a single instant of his blue eyes looking at him. Castiel didn’t understand the tears. “Dean, are you OK?” “Yeah, I…” He grabbed Castiel by the shoulders. He didn’t pull him in, he just held on. “Dean… What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I…” Dean lifted himself up on his elbows and reached up to Castiel’s lips, but stopping right before he got to them. What was he doing? He looked at Castiel, who hadn’t moved, seemingly waiting, looking into his eyes. Castiel passed an arm around Dean’s back to help him stay up. Dean’s mind went blank. He closed the distance and pressed his lips against Castiel’s. He saw Castiel close his eyes, felt him press his lips against his, but nothing more.

Dean fell back down to the mattress. He didn’t know if he did something he should regret or not. Castiel’s voice came low. “Well, that’s new.” Dean looked up at Castiel. “New? You’ve kissed before. You even…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Castiel laid back down by Dean’s side, took Dean’s hand in his. “It’s new because I thought my heart would explode. It’s a strange effect.” “But did you like it?” “Yes, it’s strangely pleasant.” “Do you want to try it again?” “Yes.”

The first kisses were soft. Dean’s head was spinning so much, he felt he’d never kissed anyone before Castiel. Sometimes they’d stop mid-kiss, their mouths still open, catching their breath. ”Dean?” “Yes, Cas?” “Is my heart really going to explode for real? It’s beating really too fast.” Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry. Mine exploded a couple times already.” Castiel opened his eyes in horror. “How…?” Dean laughed. “It’s a manner of speech. Hahaha… God I love you, you’re the best.”

Dean froze. He said it. He told the words to Cas. He started to panic, but Castiel had already his lips on his, kissing him harder. He felt Castiel’s hands in his back, gripping at him. Soon all that mattered was Castiel’s mouth, his tongue against his, hearing their breaths hitch, a low moan escape from… who, he couldn’t tell. Dean’s lips got numb from kissing, but his longing for Castiel just made him kiss him harder, slower, longer.

Dean woke up in his bed in the bunker. Opening his eyes, he saw Sam sitting by the bed. Only Sam. As a reflex, he tried to sit up, panicking. “Where’s Cas?” Sam put his hands up. “Hey, it’s fine, he just left two minutes cause Rowena wanted to talk to him.” Castiel appeared, having visibly ran to the bedroom. “Dean!” He went around the bed, ignoring Sam. He sat by Dean, taking his hand. “I’m sorry. Rowena wanted to tell me something, and…” Dean put his other hand on Castiel’s. “It’s OK.” “But I promised you…” “It’s OK. I’m sorry I panicked.” Castiel bent down, kissed Dean’s forehead. Dean closed his eyes. Castiel kissed Dean’s lips, softly. Dean kissed him back. “So I guess it wasn’t a dream, then.” Castiel cocked his head. “What wasn’t a dream?” “The car ride, the hotel room…” They heard Sam clearing his throat. It didn’t seem to register with them. Castiel answered, “No, it wasn’t a dream. You just fell asleep in the middle of…” They heard Sam really, really clear his throat behind them. “Um, guys, I’ll just…” Sam stood up. Castiel turned to Sam and stood up. “No, you stay, Rowena’s not done with me.” He turned to Dean. “I’ll be right back.” Dean smiled. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Castiel pursed his lips, not laughing at Dean’s joke. Dean looked fondly at Castiel. “Hey, love you.” Castiel’s expression softened. “Love you too.” And he left.

Sam sat back on the chair, looking at his brother who was smiling stupid to himself. Sam couldn’t help but smile, too. “So, you two, uh?” “Yup. Who’d have thought!” Sam chuckled. Dean turned to him. “What?” “Well, Dean, come on. You guys have been into each other for… well, forever it seems.” “You’re kidding me.” Sam only laughed softly. “I’m happy for you two.” “Thanks. I’m happy too.” Dean’s smile faded. “It’s just… the timing…” Sam’s smile faded, too. “I know. But, you know, at least…” “Yeah.”

“So when did Cas bring me back here?” “Um, three days ago.” “THREE DAYS?” “Yeah. It’s the longest you’ve slept so far.” Both brothers got lost in their thoughts. They knew that meant the curse was progressing. Dean broke the silence. “And I’m awake less time each time.” “How long were you awake last time?” Dean rearranged his blankets, thinking. “Well, the ride in Baby, I was awake maybe three hours. Then I slept for about 14 hours. Then I was awake for maybe one hour, and then – he gestured to the room – slept for three days.” “Fuck.” “Yeah." Dean scoffed. "Actually, no.” “What?” “I’m too tired, I can’t.” It took a moment for Sam to make the connection. “Really, Dean? You’re really telling me that? Seriously?” Dean chuckled. He added, more to himself, “Cas probably doesn’t even know how with a guy anyway.” Sam leaned in a little. “And you, do you?” Dean looked at him sideways, a smirk lifting his lips. Sam threw his arms in the air. “Shouldn’t have asked!” Dean chuckled.

Rowena came in with Castiel. Castiel sat by Dean on the bed, their hands finding each other. Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, Rowena has an important message.” Sam got up and offered his chair to Rowena, and stood by the bed. Rowena looked at each man in turn before speaking. “I’ve been keeping in touch with Death and a couple more people, to try and see if the entity from The Empty changed its mind. As it turns out, it seems the entity is waiting for Dean and so it’s been awake the whole time. And it hates being awake.” Castiel added, “Oh yes. It really does.” Rowena nodded. “Yes. And so it’s gone out of patience and it seems it’s going to claim you sooner than later.” Dean’s brow furrowed. “How soon?” “Yeah, well, that’s the thing. Really, really soon.” “Rowena.” “Tonight.”

The news dropped like a bomb. Castiel felt his hand squeezed so hard he winced but didn’t move. He turned to Dean, whose face was already wet with tears, his eyes wide in despair. Sam walked to the door. “I’ll get Jack.”

When Sam got back with Jack, Dean was sitting up, holding Castiel, his face buried in his shoulder. Rowena was still sitting on the chair, her head down, hands folded in her lap. She looked up at Jack. “Jack…” “Yeah, I know, Sam told me.” Dean, hearing Jack’s voice, let go of Castiel. He looked up and extended his hand. “Come here, kid.” Castiel got up and went to the foot of the bed. Dean took Jack in a hug. “You take care of them, alright?” “Yes…” “And of yourself. OK?” “Yes.” Dean patted Jack on the back, broke the hug. He looked at him, patted his shoulder. “Alright.”

“Hello, Dean.” Billie – Death – stood in the doorway. Dean looked at her, eyes wide. “What? Rowena said ‘tonight’, aren’t you early?” Billie walked in as she answered, “We are officially at night, now.” “But…” “Dean, I’ll let you say your goodbyes, but I have my orders. Sorry.” Dean turned to Sam, whose face was red, tears rolling down his cheeks. Dean opened his arms. Sam sat on the bed and took his brother in almost violently. They held each other for a moment, immobile. It seemed they almost had stopped breathing. “Come on, Sammy…” “No.” “You’ll be alright. Come on.” Dean broke the hug, took his brother’s face in his hands. “I’m proud of you, Sam. You’ve become a great man. I’ve always been proud of you.” “Me too.” Dean pulled him in again shortly. They finally let go, and Sam stood up and walked out of the way.

“Rowena.” Rowena went to Dean, gave him a hug. She was so small in Dean’s arms, in spite of him being but a shadow of his former self. “Well look at me, I’m crying too. For a Winchester!”, she laughed, sobbing, trying to brush off the horror of the overwhelming emotions that come with loving people again, and losing them. “I did everything I could, Dean, I swear.” “I know, I know.” Rowena broke the hug, looked at Dean and stood up to go back by the chair.

Dean turned to Castiel, still standing at the foot of the bed. “Cas, help me stand.” “But you’re too weak.” “Cas, come on. Help me. If I’m going, I’m going standing. Not like a bedridden wuss.” He shook his hand in Castiel’s direction. Castiel helped Dean out of bed and held him up. “Alright, Billie. But before you take me, tell me, what will happen with me?” “Part of your self will be scattered throughout the universe of every dimension. Part of your self will be in The Empty.” “Wow, no chance of coming back at all, then.” “No. Not this time.” “Alright.” “Are you ready?” “No, but do I have a choice?” “Not this time, no.” “Let’s go then.”

Dean turned to Castiel, and, losing himself in his blue eyes one last time, kissed him, leaning his body into Castiel, Castiel holding him tight. It was a long, silent, soft kiss. Dean stood there a moment more, his forehead on Castiel’s. In barely a whisper, he said, “Cas, never forget I love you.” “Never,” came the answer, more calm than both thought possible. “And I love you too.” Dean closed his eyes against fresh tears, kissed Castiel one last time, trying to imprint the taste of his lips in his mind for eternity.

Dean finally let go of Castiel and started walking towards Death. But Castiel still held his hand. Dean turned around. “Cas, you gotta let me go.” Billie and Castiel exchanged a look. Dean caught it. He asked Billie, “What’s going on?” Billie nodded towards Castiel, saying, “We have an agreement.” Dean turned to Castiel. Castiel stepped in closer to Dean. “I’ll go with you.”

I’d love to hear from you!

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#destiel fanfic #dean is dying #dean dies #dean death #the empty #deancas #dean x castiel #angst #fluff #curse #destiel fluff #destiel romance #destiel #I commissioned the art over a year after the fic was written and boy I love it #good move

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evansrogerskitten · 7 years ago

Text

What If

Dean x Reader

Dean's been in love with you for months. What will it take for him to admit how he feels?

Warnings: Perfect storm of angst, fluff, smut, and a happy ending. Includes a canon type hunting injury and Dean being adorable. WC: 6050 On AO3 Thanks to my awesome beta @andromytta

This is my first commission for @mrs-meghan-winchester based on the song What Ifs by Kane Brown. Thanks for trusting me with this, I hope you love it :)

From Dean’s POV

I don’t know when it started.

It wasn’t right away. I mean, when we first met I thought you were really freakin’ hot- all soft skin, and pink lips, and curves in every place I wanted to hold onto. Sam had to smack me so I’d stop staring and that’s when I heard you laugh for the first time. You hadn’t even said a word to me yet and that laugh- fuck, yeah maybe that was it.

Our first hunt together six months ago, the one where you killed the wendigo just moments before it turned Sam and me into Sunday dinner, yeah then I was impressed. You were so pretty but the strength you had to kill the monster all the while getting back up to rescue our dumb asses was just so awesome.

That may have been it. Beauty plus strength plus the laugh. Yeah, that’d do it.

But here we were on another hunt in another small town- northern Colorado this time- and laughing with you made everything worthwhile. Even if I was terrified of losing you.

The diner was noisy for a Wednesday at four-thirty but there was fresh coffee and promise for a good dinner. Sam buried his face in his plastic menu as you burst out laughing again. Sometimes he got kinda sick of us when we were goofing around and laughing. Tough shit.

“You’re ridiculous, Dean,” you giggled, swatting my hand away from the little plastic bin of sugar packets. “And no sugar for you.”

“Alright, you wanna give me some sugar then?” I nudged you, grinning as you laughed even harder. It wasn’t that funny. But sometimes we got in these moods and I could make you laugh for hours. I loved the way your nose would crinkle up at the bridge and tears would spark right at the edge of your lashes as you gasped for air.

Sam smiled sympathetically at the waitress as she came over. “You ready to order?”

“Yeah, I’ll have the greek salad with chicken,” Sam responded, handing her his menu.

I bit my lip as you stifled your laugh. The older woman raised her eyebrows and waited for you.

“Oh ummm, a cheeseburger. With sweet potato fries please.”

I smiled at the waitress. “Same for me please, darlin’. Normal fries though.”

You waited until she walked away before elbowing me. “Flirt.”

“Whatever, she was like sixty.” I scoffed. “Why? You jealous?”

Another exasperated sigh from my brother before I paid him attention. “Sam, your eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of your head if you keep rollin’ them like that.”

Sam ignored me. “Can we please talk about the plan?”

With mention of the hunt, all joking was over for you. There was nothing in the world more serious to you than killing monsters.”Okay, we know which house they’re squatting in. I was able to get a glimpse from the neighbor’s backyard today.”

You pulled a hand drawn sketch out of your jacket pocket and traced a path across the paper with your pointer finger. “We can go through the fence right here, and then they’ll be boxed in. Dean and I can take the back, and Sam you flush them out from the front door.”

Sam nodded, looking over your outline. “Looks like a good plan to me.”

You looked over at me with a small smile expecting my approval. I slung my arm over your shoulders.

“What’d we do without ya, sweetheart?”

You grinned as you folded up the map, sliding it in your pocket before looking up at me. “Dean, at this point you could never live without me.”

Shit. For a second I looked down at your lips, like I had a hundred times, memorizing your mouth all over again. A hundred times I almost leaned all the way in, almost pressed my lips against yours, almost kissed you like you deserved.

But we were in a twenty-four hour diner, with my grouchy brother across the table and the lady waitress refilling our coffee. I cleared my throat and looked away, ignoring the slump in your shoulders as I brought my arm back to my side.

“So, we got a plan. Good.”

There had been six months of that. Six months of lingering hugs and missed kisses and lying to myself, lying to you. I was a fucking coward. I was just so afraid of losing you. What if it all went to shit, and it always did- apocalypse or hell or knife to the chest- what if we found ourselves missing each other when it would’ve been easier if it’d just never been? That’s why I never told you.

We finished up dinner over small talk, and at nightfall we drove out to the house where the monsters were holed up.

“Dumbass werewolves.” I shook my head. Assholes were snatching people walking home from night services at the church down the block. Typical.

I shut off the ignition as I parked the Impala down the block. Turning in my seat, I expected your grin, amped up and ready to kick some ass. But you were looking out the window, your brow scrunched up like you were worrying about something.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” I reached over the seat and put my hand on your knee.

Sam’s eyes widened and like an idiot he cleared his throat awkwardly and flung open the door of the car. “I’m gonna get our stuff ready.” Note to self to beat whatever that was out of him later.

Your eyes were soft when you turned to me, something serious churning in your beautiful head. I gulped as your fingers tightened over mine. “Dean, I…”

For a moment, I thought you were going to say what I was absolutely terrified of but was dying inside for. Instead you lied.

“Everything is fine. I’m just not feeling like myself.” You smiled, shaking your head with a little dismissive laugh at yourself, and dropped my hand before reaching for the door handle. “Come on, let’s go kill these sons of bitches.”

It was an awesome fight and you were as amazing as always. First hopping the fence so quick while my old ass lumbered over it like some old age cripple, then barreling into the den and taking out two on your own. You were such a badass. Sometime I wished I could just watch you. Your arms were so graceful as you put all of your momentum into each hit and stab. Strong and beautiful. The monster didn’t even know what hit him as your knife got him perfectly between the shoulderblades.

“That was awesome!” You cheered as we got back to the car. I was glad to see the worry from earlier was gone.

“Hell yeah.” I chuckled. “You were awesome.”

We were both smiling as we cleaned the blood from our knives. Besides some bruises and a small cut on Sam’s cheek, we’d come out of the fight pretty good.

“Look out!” You hollered as you threw a bloody towel at my head. Good, you were laughing again.

I evaded it by inches, laughing as I chased you around the car. “C’mere sweetheart!”

I captured you, my fingers grabbing your waist and corralling you against the side of the car. Your giggles were coupled with these cute little gasps as you fake tried to squirm away from me until you settled against me with wide eyes. Whoa, your face was so close, just inches from mine. You took in this shaky breath and I realized I wasn’t breathing. Moments passed as my eyes memorized every inch of your mouth again, my tongue licking across my own lips unconsciously in preparation. I leaned in and when your eyes met mine I felt like I was going to pass out. Shit, this is it.

“Guys?” Sam yelled from the other side of the house. “Dean?”

“Damnit.” I groaned, rolling away from you.

“Hey, there you are.” Sam walked around the corner from the dark yard. He took in the sight of us, our backs braced against the side of the car and raised his eyebrows. “You guys good?”

“Good!” You announced and shuffled past me. “It’s all good.”

Once you couldn't hear me I glared at Sam.

“Dude!” I growled at Sam. “You dumbass! I was gonna finally kiss her!”

Sam laughed. “About damn time.”

I pulled three beers out of the cooler, tossing cans to you and Sam in celebration. You smiled and leaned against Baby and took a sip, and I nodded at my two girls safe and sound. Hunching down, I started repacking the trunk. Maybe I could talk to you about how I was feeling, maybe it was time. Maybe we had a chance despite all this hell.

Fuck you, Winchester.

I didn’t see any of it until it was too late. Just heard the sounds- the growl, your scream, the thump of your body smacking against the side of the car, and Sam’s yell as he pulled the rogue werewolf off of you and stabbed it in the chest.

Like those damn dramatic movie sequences, my reality slowed down. Seriously not as cool in real life.

I lurched around the car and fell to my knees, pulling you into my arms. Your cries sputtered into these sad whimpers, and then you were half conscious, not responding to me as I shouted your name. As I tried to hold you closer my hand met blood and I started to panic.

“Sam! Door!”

“Oh god.” Sam gasped as he looked down at your bloody torso. He wrenched the backdoor open and helped me slide in, your body bleeding out in my arms.

“No, no. You’re gonna be okay. Stay awake, sweetheart.” I instructed as you fought unconsciousness, your eyes bleary as they met mine before rolling back in your head agan. I held you tight as Sam started the Impala, tires squealing as we left the dead wolves behind. You made this half gurgle, half whimper noise and I felt the tears spring into my eyes. No. NO.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re okay.” I repeated over and over, holding you as tight as I could. “We’re almost there.”

My shirt was warm and wet as I held you against my chest, and I knew you were losing too much blood. “Faster, Sam! I’m gonna lose her.” Your pulse was slowing and my arms starting shaking from panic and adrenaline. This is bad.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re okay.” I repeated over and over. You had to be.

Sam probably set a world record for driving through that damn town so fast, but it was all too long for me. As soon as the Emergency Room attendant saw all the blood they pried you from my arms and lifted you onto a gurney. A security guard pushed us back as we tried to follow. The glass doors closed and we saw a nurse climbed up the side of the rolling gurney. I choked back a sob as I saw them start to perform chest compressions as they moved you down the hall.

I don’t know how long we were there. Seven hours? I convinced them that I was your husband and Sam was your brother, using all of our Smith aliases as proof. That at least kept us in the loop. They’d resuscitated you, miraculously finding you had no major organ damage. At some point Sam went and got me a clean pair of jeans and shirt as your blood had started to crust on my clothes.

“Here’s coffee.”

I took the styrofoam cup from Sam. He settled down next to me on the vinyl couch, clearing his throat as he sat back.

“Sam, question.”

“Shoot.”

“When we got to the house, do you know why she was worrying?” I kept my eyes on the sliding glass doors, willing the doctor to return with good news. “I thought she was gonna cry and then you jumped out of the car.”

“Uhhh…” Sam paused. “She ummmm...she was going to talk to you about you two. How you guys feel.”

I looked over at him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, she asked me for advice yesterday. She said that she wanted to talk to you but didn’t know if she should.”

I scoffed as I shook my head. “Well of course she should.”

Sam didn’t reply and I didn’t know what to say next. If you, when you woke up, then I wanted to hear from you, not from my brother.

“Mister Smith?” I jumped to my feet as the doctor came out, Sam right behind me.

“Your wife is stable. We were able to stop the bleeding. It’s a miracle she didn’t have any internal damage but we did have to do some minor surgery, so she has quite a few stitches. Honestly I don’t understand how she didn’t have organ damage, I’ve never seen anyone survive a cougar attack like that.”

“Yeah, it was bad. But she’s okay though?” Well the cougar thing was a lie but as long as you were okay.

“She’s alive. She’s very strong, a real fighter,” The doctor smiled. “She’s sedated but you’re welcome to come see her if you’d like. It’ll probably be a couple hours before she wakes up.”

Sam and I followed close behind as he led us to your room.

“Oh god.” I muttered as the doc slid open the glass door to your little cubicle, revealing you unconscious and pale on the pale blue hospital sheets. The doc left us alone with strict instructions not to wake you.

“Jesus christ, baby.” I stepped up to the bed and took your hand, lifting it carefully. It was cold and I covered it with both of mine, bringing it up to my lips. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Sam went to the other side and took your other hand, squeezing it softly as he avoided the wires on that arm. “Hey. Dean and I are here. We’re not leaving you, so just get better...Oh, and I killed the last werewolf.”

I looked up and glared at him. “Really?”

“What?” He shrugged. “You know that’s the first thing she’d be asking us right now.”

I shook my head to dismiss him. For a few minutes we stood there, staring down at you like you’d wake up and say, Nevermind asshats, I’m fine!

“You okay here for awhile?” Sam asked after a few minutes as he set your wrist on the bed next to your hip. “I’ll give you guys some time.”

I nodded. As he reached the door I stopped him. “What if I screwed up, Sam? What if...I lost all that time with her…”

Sam set his hand on my shoulder and smiled as he looked down at you lying in the hospital bed. He was far too calm. “It’s not too late, Dean. She’s alive. You can still tell her.”

I nodded, swallowing as my throat threatening to close up. I pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down, taking a deep breath as tears slowly fell down my face now that we were alone.

“Fuck.” I cried, my forehead resting on our joined hands as all the stress and worry came pouring out. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

I should’ve told you before but I didn’t have words. Here I’d been in love with you- fucking head over heels absolutely terrified completely in love with you- and I missed my shot. I let you think you weren’t anything when you were everything.

“Sweetheart,” I started. “I’m gonna keep saying I’m sorry cuz I am. I know you wouldn’t want to hear it a bunch of times but get used to it.” I smiled, watching your face for a smirk and a roll of your eyes.

“Sam...I...Sam told me months ago that I should tell you how I feel. And I didn’t cuz, well you know our lives. What if I messed this up? What if we fell for each other, and then we lost each other? What if it all went bad like it always does?”

I paused, wishing you would wake up. I had to whisper around the lump in my throat. “What if you are the best thing to ever happen to me and I never told you that I love you?”

You didn’t respond so I took a few deep breaths. “Fuck, I’m such a mess.”

My thumb moved over the smooth skin on the top of your hand and I listened to the beeps of your heart monitor. It must’ve been fifteen minutes before I spoke again.

“The first time I heard you laugh, it felt like my world opened up. My life is always these black nights and fucking monsters and blood and gore. But you, you being with us, even as just my friend, you’ve made my life liveable. Your laugh…” I smiled and looked up. You eyelids were fluttering and your breathing was steadier.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” I stood up, holding your hand between mine as I looked at your face. After no response I continued. “I...I should've told you so long ago how I felt. Remember that time in Oregon? How we played pool for hours and then all the whiskey shots and you were dancing all around...God, I wanted you so bad that night. Or after the vamp fight in Missouri? When you caught me changing clothes half naked and well, it should’ve been awkward but it wasn’t and I really really wanted you to stay.”

You didn’t respond but I kept talking, telling you every time I regretted missing my chance. “Oklahoma City, when we were sitting on Baby’s hood and drinkin’ beers out in that wheat field. I thought you scooted closer to me on purpose. I should’ve kissed you cuz that sunset was perfect.”

I took another deep breath, running my fingertip along the small pale scar on your jaw that you got from a pissed off spirit. “All those nights in the bunker, with your long sweaters and your short shorts…twice I actually went to your room at night. Twice I almost knocked. You walking around all naked legs just drives me crazy, sweetheart.”

Your lashes were still wiggling, so I continue my confessions. “When you fell asleep in the library, Sam was gonna wake you to tell you to go to bed but I told him no. I wanted to have an excuse to carry you. To hold you against me like that. I remember your arms tightened around my neck and you said Dean all soft and sweet. It took all my self control not to climb into bed and just hold you all night.”

“Oh, the roller skate rink in Wisconsin! When you were undercover, skating around and showin’ off and you bit it and scratched up your knee,” I started laughing. “You were embarrassed and played it off tough, but you pouted a little when I was helping you clean up your knee. And well, it was adorable.”

“Hunting, of course you’re a fucking ninja. You just amaze me. I’m not lying when I say that besides Sam and I, you’re the best there is. I mean, who else could do some kind of crazy yoga twist bullshit and take two vamps heads at once? Only my girl.” I smiled and looked down at the bed.

“When you’d talk about your parents dying, or when you’d comfort the families of people we couldn’t save…” I nodded. “You use your grief for good. Which is a weird way to compliment someone I guess. Except I know how hard it is to deal with all of that, so it’s good that you don’t keep it inside like I do. I admire that.”

I slumped back down into the chair, my own exhaustion creeping up on me. “The little things, like you always remember the pie, and you’re careful not to scuff up the car. You help Sam with stuff, like you always remember the right kind of coffee he wants and his damn rabbit food. You keep us sane. When we’re home and I hear you laugh all the way down the hallways...it’s like...it’s like I miss you when we’re in different rooms.”

“Baby, I just...all this time...what if I was made for you and you were made for me? Fuck that might sound cheesy, but what if this is it? Like we should’ve been together all along?”

Fluttering eyelids continued to be my only response so I scooted the chair forward and rested my arm on the bed, setting my head down but still gripping your hand tight. I found the heartbeat in your wrist, and just focused on you still being alive as my eyes closed.

I woke to fingers softly running through my hair. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was as I opened my eyes. You’d sat up partially, one hand resting on the back on my scalp while your other hand was still tight in mine.

“You’re awake?” I sat up straight, grimacing as the quick motion tweaked a crick in my neck. “Ow. How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes.” You said quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Me? I’m fine! How are you?” I leapt to my feet. “Lemme get the nurse.”

“Dean, it’s okay,” You gripped my hand. “I’m alright.”

“Really?” I took a chance and brushed your hair away from you face. “Werewolf got ya.”

My breath caught in my throat when your cheek moved into my hand. “But you saved me though.”

“Guess it was my turn.” I grinned.

You smiled and nodded, before looking down at your lap.

“What?” Please talk to me.

“Dean, I...yesterday I wanted to tell you how I felt and then I thought we could talk after and then the damn werewolf and now this…” You looked around the hospital room before looking up at me. “I thought that I’d have time and then I didn’t and I just kept thinking what if…”

You were too cute when you were babbling. Words weren’t enough now.

You made this cute little sigh as my lips pressed against yours, a hand reaching out for my collar to pull me closer. I put everything into that kiss. Every word I’d never said, every touch I’d kept to myself, every other kiss I’d dreamt about. Your lips moved against mine, soft and warm, letting me lead you slow until I pulled away for a moment. Your eyes looked into mine, and I smiled.

“What if that’s our last first kiss?”

You smiled and little tears of happiness flooded your eyes as you nodded. I wrapped my arms around you and pulled you tight against me so I could kiss you like I’d always wanted to. Apparently I liked chick flick moments after all.

You were smiling as we parted.

“What?” I asked.

“Thank you.”

I smiled and kissed you again before standing up straight. “I’ll see if we can get the doc in here so I can take you home.”

I was halfway out the door when you called out to me.

“Dean, tell Sam I say thanks. Oh, and one other thing…”

I rested my hand on the doorway and waited with a smile.

“I wasn’t pouting at the roller rink in Wisconsin, it was just really strong disinfectant.”

I nodded, chuckling as I turned away.

“Wait.” I took a few steps backward to see you giggling. “Were you awake that whole time?”

“No, in and out.” You smiled, resting your head back on the pillow. “But it was the best dream I’ve ever had.”

I stepped back into the room to kiss you again, this time your hands resting on my face. “You’re gonna turn me into a sap.”

“Ha! Too late!”

I left the room with the biggest smile on my face, ready to find the doc and get you home.

Four days later we rolled into the bunker’s garage. I wanted to take it easy getting back even though you said you were fine curled up in the backset, wrapped in the blankets we took from the motel. You needed time to heal. And I’d waited this long for you, I’d wait as long as it took before you were finally mine.

Sam and I went on only one hunt in the next three weeks. I wanted to be home if you needed me. I knew you were going stir crazy being in the bunker but there was no way in hell you were going hunting until six weeks had passed, doc’s orders.

The letters on the webpage in front of me had started to swarm and I sat back from the table. Sam was on a case with Jody, and I’d agreed to do some research for them since I insisted on staying home with you. Yeah, you were almost better. But I also didn’t want to be away from you.

“Hey.” You smiled as you walked into the library. I groaned inwardly at the sight of your gorgeous legs in those short shorts. My mind immediately went to my fantasy of those strong thighs around my ears until I realized I was staring.

“Hey sweetheart.” I shut my laptop and smiled. “What’s up?”

You sat on the edge of the table next to me and took my outstretched hand with a smile.

“Ummm...okay. So Dean, I…” You finally met my eyes and I realized it wasn’t all nerves. “We’ve been home for weeks and I know you’ve been letting me heal. But all you’ve done is kiss me the whole time and I…”

My shoulders slumped as I realized I’d disappointed you. Here I confess my love and then you think I don’t want you? Nuh uh, baby, never farther from the truth.

“I just wanted you to heal before I made a move.” I confirmed, pulling you closer to me. “Trust me, I very much still want you. So much.”

You bit your lip and I groaned audibly this time as you looked down at me with those beautiful eyes, dark with decision and desire. You paused before those soft naked legs straddled my thighs. I set my hands on your waist and kissed your neck a few times, reveling in your short little tugs on the hair at the back of my head.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Suddenly I realized that yes, I was worried about hurting you but I was also a little bit scared. This was it. And fuck, it was gonna be amazing.

“More than anything.” You nodded, your eyes bright and clear as they looked into mine. “I want you, Dean.”

Oh god yes. I pulled you tight against my chest as I kissed you, aggressive and thorough like I’d been dying for. Yeah we’d been making out since the hospital but I’d held back. Nope, no more of that.

I groaned as you rocked your hips forward, my dick growing harder with each gasp you made against my lips. I nuzzled my head into your hair, smelling your shampoo, and sweat, and the intoxication that was quite possibly going to kill me. Your lips moving down my neck made little kissing and sucking noises and I grew impatient with the sweater in my way.

“Too many clothes,” I grumbled, prompting you to giggle as you leaned back and pulled the sweater over your head.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” I said in awe as I moved my hands up your ribcage and over your bare breasts. You moaned as my palms covered your nipples and I looked up in amazement. I needed to hear that sound again. And then again and again, as much as possible.

“You’re wearing too many clothes too.” You frowned in the most adorable way. My hands left your body to pull my black t-shirt over my head. I chuckled and lifted you up onto the table, pulling the little short shorts down so you were bare.

My lips met yours again as your naked hips pushed up against mine. I had you naked. Finally. Fuck, if we were gonna do this, I was gonna do it right.

You gasped as I settled you on your back, my lips and fingers discovering your skin as I moved down. I quickly learned which combination of suck and bite on your nipples got you to make that beautiful moan again.

“Dean.” You moaned, and damn that made my cock so hard. Thank god for the acoustics in the Letters library cuz I loved that noise in surround sound.

“You’re so soft, baby.” I earned a few more moans before I kissed down your stomach, smiling when light kisses to your ribs made you giggle. I kissed the tender pink scars across your skin, squeezing your hip when you tensed up. “Just relax.”

You hummed in agreement and closed your eyes, your legs parting so I could lean down between them. I kissed your knees, getting another little giggle. Sighs of satisfaction as I kissed your inner thighs, taking my time to get to the good part. Your eyes were open when I looked up.

“You’re so beautiful.” I said before tentatively licking your folds. Slowly I moved my tongue, learning what twist of my tongue or suck of my lips got reactions. Each of your moans got louder as my tongue got more aggressive, and I pulled your hips forward. This was finally happening and I was going to rock your world.

“Oh fuck!” You cursed, your hands grabbing the edge of the table. “Dean, yesssss!”

I found just the right rhythm as my fingers joined my tongue, and I groaned as I appreciated your body, your back arching over the wood as my lips went back to sucking your clit. I smiled as your gasps turned to long drawn out moans. Seeing you like this, right on the cusp on orgasm, right where I had always wanted you for me- well, you looked a million times better than I ever imagined.

“Come on, sweetheart.” I encouraged, my tongue circling your clit as you reached that edge. I could feel you clenching around my fingers and I groaned. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You gasped and grabbed the hair at the top of my head, and I moaned my approval as you steered me back in place. A minute later you were shaking on that table, an orgasm rushing through you, your pussy seemingly in love with me now as well.

“Holy shit!” You shouted as your hand came up to brush your hair out of you face.

I snickered and stood up, taking your hands to pull you up against me. You moaned as you tasted yourself on me, and we got momentarily distracted by deep kisses and lingering hands. You smiled and pulled away when I rutted up against your thigh. God, I needed to feel you.

“Your turn?” You smiled, moving your hands down my chest.

I grinned. “Baby, as much as I want that right now, I need something else more. Like now.”

You shrieked as I scooped you up, careful with your tender injury as I carried you down the hall to my bedroom. Your lips never left my neck as you spoiled me with kisses.

When we got to my room I set you carefully on the mattress. You watched with wide eyes as I pushed down my sweats.

“You’re looking at me like I’m fresh meat.” I laughed, setting my knees on the bed and crawling over you.

You laughed and nodded before this breathless sex goddess voice replied, “Well, I am hungry.”

Neither of us could keep our composure after a few seconds and we both burst out laughing, the joyful sounds ending as our deep kisses returned. Damn. Just damn.

“How did I get so lucky that you’re mine?’ I whispered as I kissed down your neck.

Your fingers curled around the back of my neck and you took a deep breath. “Maybe I was made for you and you were made for me.”

I looked up at your face then, seeing all the love, the words, the moments, and the need we’d been holding onto for all that time.

“I love you. Like more than even makes sense to me, sweetheart.”

You nodded and smiled. “I love you too, Dean. Much more than I can say.”

I always thought it was super cheesy when in the movies or TV people would say that ‘oh, they made love.’ That was always kinda dumb to me. Until that night.

I thought I was going to cry as I slid deep inside of you, both of us groaning for a moment as we just felt each other. Fuck it was too beautiful. That want that had building up for so long was overwhelming. I held you tight against me as I pulled almost all the way out, both of us groaning louder as I pushed back into your warm, strong heat again. I could feel you clenching around me on the third thrust and I gasped, my mind an endless stream of ohfuckthisisgoodohfuckgodbabyyes as your hips raised up to meet mine.

I met your eyes as I felt you start to lose it, your nails digging in my shoulders. Kisses faltered to just lips on skin, and whispers of I love you. My hip twitched randomly and I felt my body giving way for you, like it’d follow you anywhere you wanted.

“Dean!” You cried out and I watched your face in awe as the orgasm erupted inside you. You’d never been more beautiful to me. Your moans reached something deep in me and I groaned, thrusting into you harder and harder until I came, white stars in front of my eyes as my body trembled over yours. I heard you gasp, groan my name and I muttered, “Oh god, yes yes baby, yes,” as I finished.

I have no idea how long I was laying on top of you, all hormone drunk and jello limbs. My lips found yours and I thanked you, a long kiss saying everything I should've before. Now you knew. And you loved me too.

I rolled you with me as I settled my back on the mattress, not wanting you farther away from me if I couldn’t be inside you for the time being. I listened to your breathing calm as I played with a strand of your hair. Closing my eyes, I smiled as your fingers meandered across my chest, resting over my heart.

“Dean?’

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“What now?”

I smiled and kissed your nose, looking into those eyes now bright with hope for our future.

“Now we do our thing. Be together. Hunt. Have amazing sex.”

You responded with a giggle and an affirmative “Hell yeah.”

I took a deep breath and paused for a moment, before tightening my grip on your arm.

“And maybe, well maybe one of these days I'll go and change your name.”

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, looking down at me with a grin before bursting out laughing. “Oh my god, you are such a sap.”

“What? Don’t you wanna be a Winchester?” I teased. There was that perfect laugh in response.

“I want to be yours.” You smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips to mine.

“Well good thing that you already are.” I replied softly.

I gazed at the bunker ceiling as you settled against my chest with a happy sigh. There wasn’t any question. You were everything. My laughter, my ninja, my strength. And now we both knew this was it and that we were meant to be.

I chuckled as I thought about what an idiot I’d been.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking, what if it all worked out after all.”

The room was quiet for a minute before you spoke.

“You’re so mushy, Winchester.”

“Oh that’s it!” My fingers went for your good side, your giggles music to my ears. We spent the rest of the evening in bed laughing, kissing, and making up for lost time.

Thanks for all the lovely feedback Click here if you need more Dean

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chimmysoftpaws · 6 years ago

Text

Fallen Nephilim

Summary: reader goes through a series of events from a happy carefree life in a safe house with her one and only James Barnes. That is until she is captured by Lucifer and takes back to America for her Grace.

Word count: 2084

Characters: Bucky, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Lucifer, Jack, Steve

Parings: Bucky x reader

A/N: Hey I’m so sorry this is late but here’s my work for @angryschnauzer and @feelmyroarrrr. Hope you guys enjoy it. I’m so sorry for the late submit, life is a pain 🙈🙈🙈

In a cabin far out in Bucharest there was a cabin that would give anyone the impression that it could barley fit three people but the cabin was actually quite big. It was big, warm and cozy. The kitchen was spacious, the living room was warm with the crackling fire, the guess bedroom lays bare but the main bedroom was filled with clothes decorating the floor and sheets tangled between the bodies of the couple that lay, naked and warm.

Bucky Barnes lay with his arm draped over the body of a women. His women. She lay with her back towards him, her frizzy hair carscading down had back and decorating the pillow. He woke up feeling a body in front of him. It was warm and soft and smelt like roses. He smiled lazily and pulled the warm body towards him. He put his head into her hair and breathed in. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was addictive, like a drug and everyday he wanted more and more. He ran his hand down her arm and drew patterns around her side, enjoying the sight of her squirming. She truly was an angel.

She groaned and turned, cuddling into his chest. He chuckled and watched as her nose twitched and her eyes scrunched up as she rubbed her eyes, waking up. She groaned again dig herself deeper into him, hiding from the streaks of light that spilled through the corners of the curtain. “Good morning.” He said pecking her forehead. She mumbled a reply and kissed his chest. He slowly shifted onto his back and dragged her body over his. “Mmm. Hello.” She said smiling sleepily. Her hazel eyes stared in his blue eyes. He smiled back and kissed her nose. She scrunched up her face and hid in his chest.

“How you feeling?” He asked. “Sore.” She replied giggling. Bucky laughed and ran his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. But in my defense, you were begging for me. ‘Oh Bucky, don’t stop. More.’”

“Oh shut up.” She said sitting up and smacking his chest. Bucky slid his hands onto her hips and pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers.They relished for days like this. Days where all they did was be in each other’s presence. They cherished the days that were full of love and not just killing, supernatural creatures and saving the world. “Mmm did you talk to Sam and Dean?”

“Yea, they said you’re still off Lucifers’ radar. Castiel says angel radio’s still looking for you but all’s good so far.” Bucky stared at his Angel. She had a frown on her beautiful face and her eyebrows were scrunched together. Bucky stared at her with a soft smile. He worried about his Angel. His Nephilim. She was one of the only ones and was being hunted down by the King of Hell. Lucifer. He wanted her Grace. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

“I can handle myself.” She replied with a smile, running her hand down his chest. “And I can handle you.” She continued runni gher hands towards his crotch. Her eyes darkened with lust and a smirk formed in her cute face. Bucky sucked in a deep breath and followed her hands shivering as her nails raked down his chest. His hands gripped her hips and ran towards her chest. She giggled and kissed his face, avoiding his lips. Bucky groaned and grinded her hips against his. She moaned softly and kissed his lips. Bucky groaned gripping her hips and pulling her closer. She moaned and pulled his hair. The two relished in each other’s bodies. Their souls became one as they made love. It was like falling in love all over again in that cabin where Bucky, Sam, Dean and Castiel journeyed to in oreder to save an innocent. They were met with a surprise of bodies on the floor and golden eyes linked with a bloody and bruised body.

All that seemed like a lifetime ago. Now life is filled with danger, love and arch-angels in their paths. “We...really...gotta stop doing that..” She said breathless. Bucky laughed and hovered over her.

“I can’t get enough of you doll. You’re just so... delicious.” He smirked peppering her chest with kisses. She giggled and blushed and her snuggled into her chest.It all felt too perfect. A life without death at every corner. A life without running away. It was like a fairytale. It didn’t feel real.

And it wasn’t.

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

She sat in a cage, hair mattered, eyes red, clothes torn, body bloodyand bruised. Her arms and legs were bound by chains that blocked her power. She couldn’t move. “Time for a refill.” She heard him say. The man with the red eyes. The fallen angel. Lucifer.

She scurried into a corner trying to hide from the Devil. He chuckled and walked closer a vile glittering in his hand. A vile that would soon contain her Grace. Grace she had just re-obtained last month. “Right, now hold still and this won’t hurt you one bit.” The King of Hell said, grabbing her neck and slitting her throat just enough for her Grace to slip out. She sobbed as her power painfully left her body. “See, didn’t hurt.” He beaked her throat by sitting his hand on her wound. He snapped his fingers, giggling as she flinched as the chain unlocked, and dragged her by her arm towards the throne room. He threw her on the floor and walked towards his throne as his demons tied her up. She squirmed and screamed, kicking the demons in hopes of getting free.

“Oh come on now, she’s just a weak human.” The King said chuckling, forcing the girls body rigid as they chained her up again. She sobbed as they slit her throat again, draining more of her Grace. It happened everyday. He’d come for a little bit and then he’d drag her to the throne room and continue to drain her. She’d sob and scream, sometimes even fight. It was an amusing sight to the King. He knew her pain but she deserved it. Anything that would make those hunters suffer for what they did to him. Trapping him on that apocalypse earth, his Father trapping him in a box. “You know I understand your pain. What they do to creatures like us. Angels. Well you’re not an angel, you’re an...abomination. Nephilim. I’m honestly sorry. You go through so much pain, always in hiding, never safe.” He said watching her. “The only... appropriate thing would be to put you out of your misery.” He watched as she violently shook her head.

“P-Please...Don’t...please.” The words could barley form from her coarse throat. Lucifers grinned and walked towards her, pulling the bowl of Grace from under her and pressing his hand to the throat saying, “Don’t worry Sweet, I’ll wait for them so they can watch you die.” He cackled. She sobbed.

Meanwhile...

The three hunters ran towards the place that held their friend. The angel Castiel had to wait until the angel wards were down. The stalked in, Bucky and Dean killing every demon while Sam took out the wards. They sprinted to the main door that was being guarded by a dozen or so demons. Dean and Bucky stabbed at every black-eyed bitch in their path. A scream came from the inside. Her scream. “Go Bucky!” Dean shouted. Bucky glanced at him before stabbing another demon while pulling his pistol out and shooting another. Another scream came from the door as Bucky tried to get closer. “GO BUCKY!” Dean shouted again. He saw Castiel and Sam run over, killing demons. He ran to the door and kicked it, pushing all his weight onto the door. Th screams got louder and more frequent. Bucky kicked the door harder but it was no use.

“It won’t budge.” He shouted back. Castiel walked towards the door and held his hand out. The door shook and blasted off its hinges. Inside was a ghastly sight. Bucky paled as he saw his lover, bloody and whithering on the floor. Lucifer stood behind her with a smirk. “Finally. She was starting to become a bore. I was almost going to kill her without you. Almost.” He walked towards them grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “She truly is beautiful James. And strong. Her Grace comes back quicker than I’ve ever seen in a Nephilim.”

Bucky glared clenching his knife tighter not taking his eyes off his Angel. “Lucifer. Just let her go. You have enough Grace.” Castiel said. Sam stared at the squirming girl, slowly moving forward. “Oh no, we were just getting started Asstiel.” He joked. He lifted his hand, levitating her body and dragging it towards him. He held an Angel Blade to her throat.

“Lucifer, you don’t have to do this.” Sam said lowering his weapon. “Please.” Bucky shook as he watched her. His Angel. She was shaking in fear, her eyes were wide. Lucifer smiled and slowly dragged the blade across her throat. “LUCIFER. Please.” Dean shouted, putting his gun away and holding his hands up. “Please.”

“Take me.” Everyone’s head snapped towards Sam. He walked and stood in front of Lucifer. “Take me. Just let her go.”

“Sammie..” “Sam.” Castiel and Dean said walking closer. “No Dean. She is not dying. Not her.” Bucky was lost for words. He couldn’t talk. He was frozen. “Sam...” Sam’s head snapped towards Bucky and he slowly shook his head.

“S-Sam...N-No.” She said looking into his eyes. Sam smiled softly and said, “it’s ok.” Sam looked at Lucifer and stated, “I’ll say yes if you let her go.” Lucifer looked around at the anxious men and pondered. Her didn’t expect such an offer for such an abomination. He looked around at the demons that entered the room and smiled. “Eh I don’t know. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t.” Lucifer shrugged and nodded.

“Ok.” He said but before he let go he plunged the knife into her chest.

“NO!” Bucky shouted, running towards his Fallen Angel and caught her before she hit the ground. She shook and slouched onto his shirt with bloody hands. Bucky shook, pulling the knife out and holding his hand in its place. “It’s ok. I’ve got you...just... stay with me.” Dean shot at the Devil but it was too late. In a flash of light he was gone. The demons began attacking. The came after the hunters but all Bucky did was sit and hold his Angel. His light. His love. “Bucky come on we need to get out of here.” Sam shouted. He wasn’t listening. He sat and couched her to his chest, not caring if her got killed. Nothing mattered to him.

“B...Buck.” He looked down. A light shone in her eyes as she tired at him. “It’s.....ok”

“No. I’m not leaving you. I love you.”

“I.... love you too.” She said lightly touching his face before.....

And then it was alll gone. The demons disappeared in a flash of light, black ash left in their places. Castiel looked around before running towards the source of the light. Sam and dean stood confused. But Bucky looked down at the body in his arms. She wasn’t moving.

“No.... NOOOOOO!” He screamed. A sob falling from his lips. He held her, rocking her body, screaming at nothing. Castiel crouched down and touched her face, looking for a source of life.

“I’m sorry.”

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

She lay in a bed with everyone around her. They cleaned her up and put her in better clothes to cover her. Her hazel eyes were no longer there, her pink lips turned pale, cheeks the colour of snow.

Bucky sobbed holding her hand. Steve stood behind him, tears down his face his hand gripping Buckys shoulder. Sam and Dean stood at the foot of the bed, silent. Castiel watched from the back as the hunters cried. He finally understood what it was like to lose someone you loved. Some who was a daughter to you. Someone who made you feel human. Jack sat next to his best friend and stared. He couldn’t understand. He refused to understand. He knew she was there. She can’t just be gone. She’s too strong for that. He put his head on her chest, listening. Straining to hear for something, anything.

And then..... bum....bum...........bum

“Guys..... she’s....”

#FallForYou #bucky #sam #dean #castiel #love story #drama #suspense

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spearywritesstuff · 7 years ago

Text

Good With Words: A Coda for 13x14

“Right.” That one word plagued Dean all the way out to his car and even after the roar of the engine should have drowned out that conversation. They rode in silence toward a battle that might be simple, might be complicated; Dean wasn’t sure what to expect. He did feel a perhaps unreasonable sense of confidence in his ability to defeat some ancient beings because he and Cas were good at this sort of thing.

Plus, Gog and Magog. What sort of names were those anyway? Didn’t sound so intimidating. And the thought of names led to thoughts again on words and the varied ways in which Dean routinely botched them.

We, always with the we. And again he played out the conversation in his head as miles fell by like nothing. Cas sat still and stoic in the passenger seat. Occasionally, Dean would glance at him then back at the road ahead. Everything was rich and green in the aftermath of a winter that gave them an excess of rain. And with that rushing blur of a backdrop, Cas looked harder somehow. Dean considered resurrecting the conversation again, but what would be the point in asking how he was doing if it just got him the same answer as before, fine.

Dean considered other options, because the silence was too much for him. He glanced again to his right and let his eyes trail down to the space between them. Cas’ hand sat on the seat, palm facing up, empty. Dean hit a small pothole in the road that jarred them both. Dean turned his focus back to the driving but not before Cas noticed the staring.

Cas shifted, pulled his hand into his lap and folded it with the other hand in a tight grip. Dean let himself notice that much. I was a mess when you were gone. I was… In his head he said it right. He knew what set things in motion with Jack, and it wasn’t the collective misery of him and Sam. Sam was torn up to be sure, but Jack certainly didn’t magic her back into their world. Dean knew it was his misery that somehow moved things, changed things. He let the thought linger and felt a measure of guilt at what he knew Jack had experienced in that short time with him in the bunker. There was always plenty to feel guilty over, and a reachable distance away from him was a walking embodiment of guilty feelings. Words, fuck ‘em.i

“We should take one of these side roads away from the main thoroughfares,” Cas said casually as he waved a hand at an upcoming dirt road.

Dean pulled over onto the road, shifted into park, and brought out his phone to look at a map of the area. No reason to drive down a dirt road that just ended up at a farm or something. They needed a bit of distance from people, especially if this went south. It wouldn’t. Dean was confident. Cas leaned into Dean’s space and looked at the map on his phone. He reached out and dragged the area to the side a little and then retreated back to his side of the car. “Yeah, seems pretty barren. Good call.” Dean set the phone on the seat and started the drive again.

Dean considered cracking a joke, but before he could, Cas said, “We’ll need to each take on one of the brothers. It will be more efficient. I’ll try to end my battle quickly to aid in yours.”

“I can hold my own.” He delivered the statement with a little more irritation in his tone than he had wanted.

“Right.” Cas’ response stirred up the feelings again. Dean felt the renewed desire to shift things, make them right somehow. Instead of saying anything though, he let the silence drag until Cas let out a little sigh and leaned into the window.

“I’m not good with words.” Dean hazarded a glance at Cas, who was already looking back at him. Dean cleared his throat, but didn’t add to the statement. Cas shifted in his space and the leather creaked. The road was rough and jostled them both a little more than Dean liked. He slowed down to minimize it.

“There’s nothing to say, really.” They hit a particularly rough patch of road, and Cas was jostled a little in his seat.

“Sorry.” Cas could take the apology in whatever way he chose. Dean ran a hand up into his hair. He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the dust clouds in his wake. “So we’re gonna fight some ancient warrior brothers, huh?” Anything to break the tension.

“I thought that was clear.” Cas’ brows came together. He looked concerned like he thought Dean had finally lost it.

“Just making conversation. Meet me halfway, will ya.” Dean sighed and rolled his neck out a little. A tiny crackling noise rolled through his spine. “Sorry.” Again with the take it as you will apologies.

“Yes, we will be fighting a pair of warrior brothers.” Cas folded his hands in his lap again. “Seems strange that the spell calls for their hearts. I suppose though, that Chuck was a bit strange, and he was prone to odd flights of fancy.”

“You think this wasChuck being funny?”

Cas shrugged. “I’ve ceased trying to figure him out. He shared reasons for his actions in the past. I found his reasons somewhat lacking, but our relationship did not allow for much in the way of questions.”

“When did this sharing happen?” Dean sped up a little as the road seemed to even out.

“Just before you went off to blow up Amara. I…” Cas stopped speaking and looked out his side window instead.

“You what?”

“I struggled with his reasoning, but didn’t do enough to change the plan. Thankfully you are,” Cas waved a hand in front of Dean, “more than many give you credit for.” A slight smile ticked up the corners of his lips. “Thankfully, you were good with words then.”

Dean laughed a little. “I’m supposed to be comforting you. You’re the one that did the temporary dying bit.”

“From what Sam told me, you did a bit of temporary dying too.” Dean turned to him, a little shocked. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that conversation though.”

“Well, I’m sure Sam exaggerated. It was under control.” Dean avoided looking at him now.

“The dying. Yes, I’m sure it was. One should always endeavor to die in a controlled manner.” Dean looked at him then, hearing the edge of humor in his tone. Cas wasn’t laughing though. His look was deadly serious. “He told me it was hard for you.”

Dean looked away. “What was?” Playing dumb seemed to be reasonable. Cas made of little noise of resignation. Dean rolled his window down. It was getting hot in the car.

Cas set his hand on Dean’s arm, gently. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Dean glanced at him quickly. “I wasn’t okay, and I wasn’t in control. Told Chuck to bring you back.”

Time passed with a rumble of tires on the dirt and gravel road. The trees became thicker. Dean slowed down and started looking for a spot to pull over. Cas’ hand stayed on Dean’s arm. His thumb swiped back and forth a little. “Dean.” Dean looked at him. “This is a good spot to pull over.” He let his hand fall away then.

Dean got out of the car and began walking off to the trees. Cas walked alongside of him, so close that Dean could focus on the rhythmic brush of their knuckles with each step. Dean stopped in a little clearing and looked around at the space, assessing it as a place to do some fighting. Cas walked the perimeter. Dean called over to him, “You know when we get out of this mess, you and me, we oughta talk a bit.”

“We could talk now.” Cas was focused on the tree line though, running his hand over the various trunks like he was fully communing with the nature or something. The sunlight caught him, made him look more celestial somehow.

“Nah, it should be a real sit down, not the kind of talk that happens with time limits and crazy, warrior brothers with stupid names looming on the horizon.” Cas stopped assessing the trees and just stared at him then. Dean felt a little flood of joy run through him. He grinned at Cas all big and dopey. Cas was here, and he was alive. Dean couldn’t think of anything better than that. And now he had time to get some good words together. And in the meantime, he could joke; he could enjoy the adrenaline rush of a battle before it happens. Cas walked close to him, brushed his arm as he did so. Dean asked him about their plans. Cas took a deep breath and began uttering the Enochian that would draw Gog and Magog forth. Nothing happened. And it should be noted that one should not question Castiel’s abilities with words, especially Enochian. His, “I don’t get words wrong,” were graveled out with a fierceness that let Dean know that getting the right words would really be important. And he would, he just needed a decent break, and he most definitely would. They were certainly due.

#destiel #fanficton #spn #deancas #coda 13x14

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sinditia · 7 years ago

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Supernatural 13x01

Alright, alright, we’re off to a pretty good start. That wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.

It’s kind of irritating how they’re making me really really like Jack. Like fuck me up. “I like nougat” are you fucking kidding me?? And they’re so fucking heavy and about as subtle as Dean’s fucking rocket launcher with the Cas parallels. The brown jacket, the taking things literally, the squinty faces, the not-dying after getting stabbed, the fucking sparks flying over his head. In all seriousness though, I really like that Jack very firmly states that Cas is his chosen father and doesn’t even give two shits about Lucifer. It’s a very Supernatural theme where family don’t end in blood, how your chosen father can be a better father figure than your biological father. I like it. I’m looking forward to seeing Jack interact with Cas or even Lucifer.

Also, I like Jack’s eyes. They look like the eclipse. The new title card is interesting.

Dean is being belligerent, which isn’t anything new or unexpected really, but I’m keen to see him move on from that. I mean, I get it. Profound bond and shit. Obviously Cas’s death is hitting Dean in a different way than it does Sam, maybe even harder, so I get that he’s kind of irrational and spiraling. He let Sam run off by himself to the place where Jack potentially is and left them together in that prison cell? That scene of Dean destroying that pirate sign wasn’t nearly as hilarious as it was in the trailer. But that nondescript car in the background of him praying makes me think that’s a sign that someone (or something) is listening to him.

I like that Dean’s arguments with Sam weren’t too drawn out, and I like the visual of them being separated by the prison bars to sort of demonstrate how divided on this they are (Sam on one side with Jack and Dean on the other), but ultimately they come to sort of an agreement, at least on what they plan to do in the short term, if not on underlying principle. I’m intrigued about Sam’s interactions with Jack. I wonder if Jack senses some lingering residue of his angel-Dad’s grace in Sam since he was Lucifer’s vessel, and if there’s some kind of connection there. Sam has always been the one to see the grey areas, that monsters aren’t inherently evil. I mean Dean has also come to feel this way over the years so it’s making me a bit, I dunno, weary I guess that he’s still all shoot-first-ask-questions-later about Jack. But I get it, he’s still bitter about Cas and he probably really blames Jack for his death.

The angel trio was a bit mysterious. It’s a bit unclear to me how Heaven is organized these days, whether there’s still “rogue” angels or what. They’re looking to weaponize Jack, sure I get that, but like what’s the big picture here? I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.

Then finally, the AU arc. What are we calling this? Earth 2.0? Apocalypse-world? Anyway, I can’t comment too much on this since we’re still in the teaser stage. I’m somewhat intrigued, sure, but I’m not hanging off the edge of my seat yet. Show me what you got, SPN!

#supernatural #spn #spn spoilers #spn 13x01 #spn season 13 #my writing #review #s13 #13x01

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butiaintgonnaloveem · 7 years ago

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Crapulous

Characters: Dean, Reader, OC Patsy

Word Count: 2700-ish (whatttt?? that’s it??)

Warnings: Language, alcoholic consumption, sass

A/N: The morning after an alcohol-soaked case, the reader is doing her best to recover with little-to-no help from Dean. I wrote this for @seenashwrite‘s 200 followers celebration. Prompts are bolded throughout the fic. I also managed to sneak in the Hiatus Challenge prompt from @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. *Nash, although I didn’t sign up for it, there’s a bonus prompt in there, too!! Many thanks to @idreamofhazel and @kayteonline for being fabulous and helpful betas. As always, feedback and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated!

I groan as I feel sleep drifting away from me. My head is rocking and bouncing with the potholes in the road, but I fight it, desperate to hide away from consciousness and the hangover that would come with it. The beginnings of it already start to creep in on me, my body sore and achy, the foul taste of hard liquor remnants coming alive as I lick at my dry mouth. My eyes scrunch further shut and my nose crinkles in displeasure as the heat from the sun beats down on me.

“Nooooo,” I moan, feeling the immediate jack-hammering to my skull, making my brain throb as I start to wake. “Oh. Bad.”

A feeling of nausea rolls through me, my stomach quivering as it threatens to heave up its contents.

“Well,” Dean says, gratefully gently, “Good morning, starshine.”

“No,” I grunt, cutting him off and making him chuckle.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m dying. I don’t ever want to drink again.”

“Aww, come on. Can’t be that bad.”

“Shut up.” I whine. Completely pathetic.

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me again.”

I wave him off as he chuckles to himself again, and once I swallow the nausea back down, I resettle myself to pass back out. I’m just finding the sweet spot when I feel the car swerve then start to shake and rattle, the loud thundering from beneath us jolting me upright as I cling to the dashboard.

“Ohmygod!”

Dean turns the wheel, pulling the Impala away from the rumble strip along the side of the highway. “You gotta wake up, we’re almost in Hays.”

“Ugh, again?” I look at him, my face scrunched up in pain. “Can’t we just go home so I can die in peace?”

He purses his lips, at least pretending to think it over. “No can do. I’ve got a date with a plate of bacon and a sweet, sweet woman.”

“Dean, it’s unhealthy.”

“Look, leave the bacon alone-”

“No, not the bacon - Patsy. Because you - prolapsed rectum that you are - are infatuated with her, whose cobwebby old snooch, by the way, I can smell from here.”

“Pshh,” he shook his head at me, “You sound jealous.”

“You. Wish.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulls off the highway and into a lot overgrown with weeds and rogue patches of grass. The restaurant lacks a sign out front, and if it weren’t for the huge, dingy windows, no one would have known people were inside. Dean quickly hops out, waiting as I force myself from the car, every bit of me protesting as I go.

He pulls open the creaking screen door, following as I walk through first, and lets it slam shut behind him. The short, leather-skinned waitress pushes through the kitchen door, mouth curved into a wrinkled frown.

“There’s my special lady!” Dean shouts from behind me, making me cringe. I glance to my left, noticing a group of college kids looking like they’re still going from the night before, and on the other side, a few other stragglers who seem just as confused as I am as to why they are there.

“Well hey Dean, Y/n. Go on, sit down, you’re blockin’ the breeze,” she says, shooing us away from the entrance and the swiveling fan that pulls in nothing but dry, hot air from outside.

Dean shoves me into a booth, just settling in as she places down two waters, condensation already dripping down the sides of the slim glasses.

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon. You keep up with all these visits and you’re gonna make my husband jealous,” she croaks. Her sandpaper voice, perfected by about 80 years of smoking at least 2 packs a day sends my skin crawling with irritation.

“Which husband is that - number four or number five?” I ask, rubbing my head on my palm.

She tilts a hip, setting her hand on it. “Four. And if I have my way, Dean will be my lucky number five,” she responds matter-of-factly.

“Ohhh, Patsy, I’m yours. Just as long as you vow to make me that pie of yours.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she scolds him. “You’re gonna be my trophy husband. Can’t let you go and get all plump on pies.”

“More like consolation prize,” I mutter.

“Please honey, this boy is arm candy and you know it,” she emphasizes with a bony finger pointed at me. Dean sits up a bit straighter, pleased to be so blatantly objectified as I roll my eyes, regretting it immediately as the movement strains my eye muscles.

“So what am I in this whole situation?”

Patsy eyes me up and down for a moment, clumpy mascara chunks sticking together as she lazily blinks.

“I’ll let you be his mistress. I’m sure he’s got the stamina for it, and Lord knows you ain’t got the brains to lock him down before someone else does.”

I bark out a laugh, setting off a fresh wave of pain in my head. “More like I’m too smart for that.”

She gives me a pointed look, droopy eyelids hanging down despite the eyebrow she’s raised.

“What? I am,” I insist.

“Right, because you walked into ‘Stripper’s Discount Warehouse’ and said, ‘Help me showcase my intellect.’”

I drop my mouth open, amusement and shock hitting me in equal measure. Dean slams a hand down onto the table, making the silverware rattle as he tries to contain his laughter.

“Patsy, go easy on her, she’s had a rough night.” He gestures at me and I glance down at myself, assessing whether or not I look as awful as I feel. I’m still wearing my ‘bait’ outfit that helped me blend in with the rowdy, drunk crowd from the night before. It’s more than a little off-kilter; I wipe under my eyes, pulling away the residue of eye makeup.

“Well, Dean, if that’s how you leave the ladies the morning after, I might have to reconsider our relationship.”

“Please, Patsy, you know I’d treat you like a queen.” He grabs her hand, holding it tenderly.

“And I’d never let you out of bed to see the outside world again.” She winks. “Now, let’s get some food in y’all before Y/n here goes green.”

Dean smiles and shakes his head in awe. “I love you.”

She pats his shoulder condescendingly as she walks away humming ‘Looking for Love,’ refilling a few coffee mugs and jotting down an order for the cook waiting at the griddle.

“So, fill me in on last night. I’m guessing the bloodsuckers didn’t give you too much trouble?” I ask, sipping the water and letting my fingers trail along the condensation.

“Nah, it was pretty easy to get the location of the nest. However, you...at last call, that’s a whole other story.”

“Yikes.” It’s as much of an apology as I can give at the moment, but he accepts it. I dig an ice cube from the glass and pop it into my mouth, “Next time, I’m dangling you for bait.”

“What? I don’t get an encore?” He smirks.

“An encore of what?” I ask with a tilt of my head. Desperate for the pain to go away so I can focus on remembering what happened.

His smirk spreads into a wide smile, his eyes shining with mischief. How he looks so good while I feel so terrible just makes me more frustrated and ready to backhand him. A flash of red and green zooms past before I hear it plunked onto the table, drawing my attention away from our staring contest.

“Quit makin’ eyes at my man and drink up,” Patsy interrupts.

I turn to her, getting a stern look in reply as she nods at the table. A short glass of thick, red tomato juice with a huge celery stalk sticking out of it rests before me, which I stare at suspiciously.

“Hair of the dog, hun. It’ll perk you right up.”

My stomach rolls and Dean laughs at the gurgle.

“Oh, well, I hope that’s got some whiskey, and some tequila, and let’s see - does rum sound right to you?”

“I'll be...ugh….bathroom,” I mumble and gesture as I scramble out of the booth, tripping on anything and everything on my way. A watery belch escapes from my stomach, burning on the way up.

“Gross,” I whisper at myself, trying to ignore the giggling from the table of college kids that got an earful.

The bathroom smells like piss, and wet dog, and more piss - not helping my uneasy stomach, but at this point I'm sure puking would make me feel worse. I hover over the seat, weakly tugging at the fabric at my hips to pull it down, until the urge becomes too much and I shove them down, letting out an ahhh of relief, followed swiftly by a confused, “What the -?”

After taking a moment to wipe some cool water over my face and clean up the smudged makeup and drool marks, I do my best to walk back without wobbly legs, barely making it before collapsing back into the booth, sliding across the vinyl to unflattering noises, grateful to have to put little to no effort into sitting.

“Dean?”

“Yup?” he asks, popping the ‘p’ harder than necessary. His bottom lip is stiff and trembling as he tries to hold onto a straight face.

“Whose underwear am I wearing?”

Before I get two words out he's folding over in laughter.

“Fucking tequila,” I spit, angry at drunk me, and more angry at Dean for enjoying it so much.

He's trying to form words between laughter, but only gets out snippets that don't make any sense. “The band...and these paper hats...he had beef jerky...and you...and you…” He gives up as I stare at him flatly, not following a damn bit of it but certain I had violated at least a few local ordinances by his reaction.

“And what did you do that whole time?”

He digs his phone from his pocket, wiggling it in his palm. “Surveillance.” He winks.

My head hurts more. My brain rattles in my skull with every hard beat of my heart, the blood struggling to pump through my dehydrated body. I close my eyes and wrap my hands around the glass of tomato juice, hoping what's in there is enough to provide relief until we get back to the bunker. If Dean’s this thrilled, I must have done something good, but it's all blank, hours lost to a haze of alcohol and loads of blackmail. God Damn it.

“For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God.” I attempt to sound repentant.

“Prayers won't help you with this one.”

I open my eyes, staring at the cocktail in my hands and the absurd celery stalk standing in it like it's a Magic 8 Ball, ready to provide me with an answer as I continue my prayer. “Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me in the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen.”

“That was very moving.” I look up, surprised to see Patsy there with a tray of food and a smirk on her face. She sets the food on the table in front of us, moving things as she pleases to make room.

“It was something,” Dean laughs, shaking his head back and forth, staring at his phone screen.

“I'm too hungover for this.” With a groan and all the speed I can muster, I reach across the table, barely snatching the phone from his hand before he can react and dropping it right into the thick, red juice sending it splattering across the table.

I pick up the glass and hand it to Patsy. She takes it gingerly between her fingers, eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

“Patsy, dear sweet angel that you are, can I please get another? There's something in this one.”

“Waste of vodka,” she grumbles, walking back into the kitchen.

Dean has his head resting on his fist, a bored look in his face instead of the angry one I expected. “Feel better, sweetheart?”

“Maybe.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”

“Sammy’s got everything backed up. The cloud, ya know,” he waves a hand in the air, “Now all you did was piss off Patsy.”

“Whatever, she knows you're an ass.”

“Blue ribbon ass.” He takes another bite, talking through his food. “Don’t forget, I’m a prize.”

“You sure are honey,” Patsy croons at him. “But darlin’, you mistreat this girl right here and I don’t care how sweet that ass is, I will beat it up and down main street.”

Patsy sets another drink down in front of me, sending a nod of solidarity my way as she sets Dean’s napkin-wrapped phone in front of him. I finally take a sip, only slightly gagging as I push more alcohol into my system.

“Careful, Patsy, I might like it,” he calls over his shoulder as she walks away.

“So would I,” she hollers as she pushes through the kitchen door.

“Could you be any louder?” I whine, grasping my head in my hands, wanting nothing more than to sink down into the seat and go to sleep again. “Next time you’re the bait.”

“You just wanna see me in a skimpy outfit.”

“I’m gonna puke.”

“So, the case,” his picks up, muffled by a mouthful of food, “There’s good news and bad news.”

“Lord, take me now.” I pinch my nose in frustration.

“Okay, ignoring that. So, good news, the plan worked and we drew out the nest.”

“How could there be bad news?”

“We still gotta take them out.”

“Excuse me? H-how? I mean. Why?” I watch as he shoves more food into his mouth, ignoring me.

“Yeah, so it looks like we’re still on clean up, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

“Oh, I liked that show,” Patsy chimes in, breaking the tension as she fills up Dean’s half-empty coffee mug. “And, ya know, I like them Twilight vampires, too.” She walks away, not adding anything further to the conversation.

Dean’s face curls in displeasure, his voice dropping low, “Oh, Patsy. No.”

“Patsy, yes.” I smile sleepily. “You know, opposites attract. I can see why you like coming here so much.”

“Shut up.” He wipes his hands and face.

“So,” I gulp down more of the cocktail, “Where are they?”

He stares down at the egg residue on his plate, swirling it with the tines of his fork. “They’re, uhhh, West. Just over the Colorado border.”

I squint. “Dean. That’s where we just came from.”

He glances up at me, lips pinched shut as he chews. His eyes wide with a fake look of surprise.

“God damn it, Dean!” He freezes and I lower my voice. “You mean to tell me you just dragged my hungover ass two hours away from our hunt for some breakfast.”

“Not just breakfast,” he insists, shaking his head. “Patsy.”

“You’re seriously obsessed. Are we sure she isn’t a siren or a witch...or mayyybe some kind of rogue leviathan hybrid -”

“Please don’t ruin this for me, Y/n.”

“What if she’s got the whole town under a spell, and we’re screwed because she’d dumbed us down with food…”

“Please stop,” Dean begs, eyeballing the skillet in front of him.

“Oh no no no. Just imagine, we’ve got her cornered, torching this godforsaken place, but we’re too dumbed down to move, and like, a big sweaty fireman carries you out of the burning building and you think - Yeah, okay, he’s gonna give me mouth-to-mouth - but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die is he’s squeezing your throat so hard that a big wet blob of drool drips off his teeth, and just - flurp - falls right onto your popped-out eyeball.” I finish describing the scene with my hands clenched around the air.

Dean stares at me blankly, chewing uneasily on the food in his mouth. “That was cruel.”

“What was cruel? Something wrong, hun?” Patsy stops, nodding at Dean’s unfinished plate.

He gives her a skeptical up-down. “No, no, just gotta, you know, hit the road again.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em. Typical.” She shakes her head as she slaps down the bill. “Til next time, darlin’.”

He watches her shuffle away, eyes shifting between the waitress and me. He leans in, whispering, “You don’t really think? I mean, it’s Patsy.”

“Seriously. Grossly. Infatuated.” I shake my head in disbelief, “If we check her out and she’s clean, I won’t come between you again, I promise. Now let’s get back out there and you can tell me about what happened to my underwear before this vodka wears off.”

Tags y’all:

@aprofoundbondwithdean @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @babypieandwhiskey @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner @impala-dreamer @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @muliermalefici @mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @notnaturalanahi @anokhi07 @deandoesthingstome @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ceeceewinchester @roxy-davenport @anotherwinchesterfangirl @demondean-for-kingofhell @iwantthedean @klaineaholic @wheresthekillswitch

#nash200 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader insert #spn reader insert #spn crack fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #spn meets archer

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