#In Dean and Me I believe a few things... little hints at the truth that Jerry has planted here and there in the book | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princeblack · 9 months ago

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He wonders what it would be like to be Dean; to forever know you lost Bee Diggory and that you were just someone she settled for. He would feel sorry for him if he didn’t hate him so much for daring to kiss the love of his life. “Don’t feel bad, beautiful. I did the same…I didn’t even like Daphne but I agreed to date her because our families wished it.” He only tolerated her because she was his best friend’s sister and an important family friend, but to have to pretend to want her was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

He just doesn’t care about the spoiled girl who is callous about werewolf rights and more interested in lavish parties and status than real connections with other people. Bee is kind and soft where Daphne is cold and proper, a mirror of everything he hated about his life but still somehow strived for out of a need for his family. He’s tired of that need, festering in him like some kind of cancer. “I should probably care about her right now, but I don’t… Maybe I resent her for being the reason why my parents will hate me.” He doesn’t even realize it’s the truth until it leaves his lips, but Daphne has taken the brunt of his frustration with his parents since they started dating. He frowns thoughtfully, looking away as he realizes how many complicated emotions he suppressed about the girl, to the point he’s treating her so poorly he’s even cheating. “With you, it’s different…I think I care about you more than I fear losing them. I couldn’t let you cry like that.” He shrugs, thinking about what they’d just talked about. “And she bullied you, so getting cheated on and dumped is only a warm-up for what’s coming to her.” It makes him irritated again just thinking about it; the two girls bullying Bee when she wouldn’t lift a finger to hurt them or ever speak badly on them. She probably wouldn’t even defend herself, if given the chance. She’s too sweet for this world; too sweet for Regulus, too.

He smirks a little at her words before adding, “Calling them proud is a strange way of saying Dean has a fragile ego and would throw a tantrum if the wind blew the wrong direction.” He doesn’t hate all Gryffindors like most Slytherins do; in fact, he likes quite a few of them. But they still tend to irritate him and Dean is at the top of his list. “Don’t tell Dean you were just settling,” he says teasingly. “He’ll try to get the Daily Prophet to run an article on You-Know-Who’s right-hand man infiltrating Hogwarts and stealing his helpless girlfriend. Because we all know he couldn’t lose her any other way.” Sarcasm is laced in his voice, but his tone is light-hearted.

He hums at her words, allowing his fingers to slowly comb through strands of her soft hair. “Could you blame me for not knowing what the perfect Bee Diggory wanted? I wasn’t sure if she liked bad boys so much…” There’s a hint of irony to his words, since he knows he’s mostly a prep. But he’s also a death eater, which she doesn’t know yet, and that hangs over them, unspoken.

He’s lucky to be Bee’s friend, as well as Cedric’s now. It’s why he was invited to her party last year, getting to spend time with her without Daphne watching nearby for once. “Your favorite?” It makes him happy to hear it, even if it probably should be obvious by now. “If I’m beating out even Cedric, your obsession must be serious. Having such a beautiful girl worship at my feet… What if I get an ego the size of Dean’s?”

She’s so cute when she tears up that it makes his chest ache, her watery gaze falling as she sniffs a little. It’s hard to believe that no one has told her she’s perfect before and it makes him upset, because how could anyone think Bee needs to prove her worth when she’s already so incredible that she doesn’t feel real? “I’m sorry the people in your life failed you… They should’ve told you how special you are. Don’t apologize, my love— I would’ve given anything to know you wanted me sooner.” Maybe it should’ve been obvious because of that first kiss on the train, but things only became complicated at school, and the youngest Diggory was too skilled at hiding her feelings and making herself smaller.

He shakes his head, when she ponders if Daphne was ever his. Their foreheads are pressed together, Regulus’s lips ghosting over hers. His stomach flutters and it’s a feeling he’s never had with anyone before her, spreading lower and making him feel hot. He never knew it was possible to have so much desire for anyone until he first laid eyes on her, desperately trying to heave her trunk up the stairs on the Hogwarts Express.

She pokes further, asking about the times he shouldn’t have thought about her but did. He presses a soft kiss to her lips, slow and gentle, before responding. “Every time I shouldn’t,” he repeats vaguely, because he’s not quite sure how much she wants to know. “When you were around, when you weren’t… When I was alone.” The words feel heavy because it’s all too obvious what he means by it. “Sometimes it was the only way I could stand Daphne without pushing her off…” He feels a little guilty for how disgusted he is with her, but she isn’t the girl he loves; not even a little bit.

Bee’s fingers make him shiver, trailing from his neck to his cheek as she tells him she could touch him better than Daphne. “Show me,” he urges her as her thumb traces his cheek. He swallows a little nervously, because she’s so sure she sees all of him, but does she see the worst parts too?

“And what if the rumors were true and I was evil? Would you touch me then?” he asks gently, leaning his cheek into her palm. “You’re just such a good girl, Bee…” He says her name carefully, his voice warmer than usual, his lips close to hers. He presses another kiss to her soft mouth, moving slowly to taste her lips. Running his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, a soft moan leaves him again, his hand moving to gently wrap around her throat. Squeezing his fingers against her neck, he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, working on it some more.

When he releases it to take a breath, he murmurs, “I wouldn’t call it ‘dealing with’ when I want to do it, but yes, I know I could.” He would do anything for her, his heart practically beating out of his chest just from tasting her sweet lips. “You can’t scare me off.” Maybe she thinks of herself as a handful, but he thinks of her as the best thing to ever happen to him and he would do anything to return the care she’s given him.

She tells him she wants him on perfect terms, which he assumes means how she wants to date. They’re already together right now, in the physical sense. Especially as his hand slides lower down her back, stopping before he goes too far. “We can make it perfect,” he murmurs in response, pondering their future together. How would they do it? What would happen between him and his family, or between him and the Dark Lord? He doesn’t care to figure it out now; he just wants all of her.

It isn’t until she gives him the go ahead and pushes her lips into his that he lets his hand slide down, bunching into the hem of her dress to raise it up a little. Slipping his hand beneath the fabric, he takes one cheek into his palm, feeling the soft fabric of her underwear as he squeezes. Still kissing her, he tilts his head, slipping his tongue into her mouth to push it along her own, tasting her slowly.

It doesn’t feel real, wondering how her body felt for so long and finally having one hand beneath her dress while they make out. He moves to the other cheek, massaging it as well, his fingertips pushing into her crack a little. Moaning quietly into her mouth, he kneads her ass, his other hand still around her neck. “You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs against her soft lips before kissing them again.

she thinks back to all the times dean told her regulus was being cruel to him, making fun of him or just flat out being rude...bee never believed him though, always brushing it off as if dean simply didn't understand regulus because it seemed no one did the way she had. now she knows her ex was telling her the truth and it doesn't really change anything, if anything it's almost flattering in a way. to know regulus was so possessive over her that he was willing to make someone else's life miserable just for touching her, sure it's fucked up and maybe he didn't have a right but it makes her feel wanted in a way that she's not really used to. he hated dean for no other reason then, bee as if she's so special that her sweet boy turned rotten just for her sake.

she giggles at his words, eyes crinkling with her smile. it's mean to laugh at deans expense but regulus isn't exactly wrong either, bee had been bored with her relationship. "you're never going to let him live that down are you." she teases, brushing her fingers against the back of his sweater. "well if it wasn't for him nearly poisoning me I never would've gotten saved by my sweet prince and gotten him to dote on me through the rest of the day so truly dean is actually bringing us closer together, should send him a fruit basket for helping my dreams come true." would that be fucked up when he was already threatened by regulus just to see her fall into the arms of regulus. "maybe but I was unfair to him, I never should've dated him when I knew i wanted to be with you. especially because he's a gryffindor and you know how proud they can be, plus I feel bad for hurting you...if I had known I never would've settled." she smiles warmly, eyes flickering to his lips as she sighs it does weigh on her a little knowing she made such a mistake with dean, it wasn't fair to either him or regulus for her to be so selfish.

bee smiles up at him, his words almost possessive as if he had the right. it makes her heart race a little faster and she's almost worried he can feel it because they're brushed up so closely against one another. "I always wanted to be yours but you sure took your time claiming it." she teases, biting down on her bottom lip again. "and it was no claim, it's just a fact. there wasn't a single moment I didn't think about you, it was almost like an addiction. when cedric invited you to my birthday party last year it was like the best gift anyone ever could've given me, just to spend one moment on my special day with my favorite guy." she was so excited, there he was charming as ever there just for her seventeen birthday, no daphne, no drama, only the two of them as it was supposed to be.

she's glad he doesn't care for daphne, it's a relief even if she should feel bad for the other girl but, she was selfish when it came to regulus and she wanted to be sure she was his one and only the way he was for her.

the girl was used to trying for ever aspect of her life, trying to be the perfect daughter, a good student and friend, having to work a little harder than everyone else because she had problems that not everyone else struggled with. the big highs and lows lows of her life made it difficult on top of the drama with her father and living in the shadow of her brother, she never really felt like she could meet expectations...making regulus the first to tell her that she doesn't have to put that effort in because shes already enough, she tears up a little again but this time its not because shes sad bit from genuine joy, she sniffs it back a litrle however, feeling embarrassed as she drops her gaze for a moment. "sorry, it's just no one has ever said that to me before..." she scrunches her nose a little, pursing her lips before gathering herself to look up at him. "that doesn't mean that I won't try though." she says gently, smiling as his fingers tickle the back of her neck. "caring for someone takes effort and means to try to always be the best you can be for them and for you I would do anything."

she doesn't expect him to pull her in tighter, holding her like this as she tries to fight back the sadness caused to her by his own girlfriend and her best friend. "I used to think she was the luckiest girl in the world to have you..." she sighs. "but now I almost want to feel bad for her because she never really did, did she?" he was always bee's as bee was always his, willing to hurt the feelings of someone he was forced to be committed too just to get back at her for hurting the girl he was forbidden from ever loving. it's not that she wants daphne to suffer, but she likes knowing regulus was willing to do that just because the blonde brought tears to her eyes.

bee looks at him curiously, soft eyes as he speaks being able to relate to every word he says. it all feels like some kind of dream, none of this is real because it's far too good to be true but if she pinches herself now she might just wake up and miss the best part. "and when shouldn't you have thought about me." she asks, tone innocent but the look in her eyes not so much as fingers move up to brush through his curls. "I should be flattered by that but she could never touch you the way I do. forgive me but she doesn't appreciate you enough to know how to touch such a sensitive boy." fingers trail down to the nape of his neck and then to the side of his cheek as she looks him in those beautiful green eyes. "I see you for who you are."

she wishes she could take his pain and worries away, she wishes his parents could be a little kinder and appreciated the son they had rather than who they wanted to shape him to be. she frowns softly, thumb brushing against his cheek. "dean never had me to begin with, I just let him think he did...and I know you love your family, and I know you're scared. I would never ask you to make this choice because it's cruel and unfair that you were ever put into this position. but I'll never leave you."

bee giggles against his lips, nuzzling her nose with his own as she hums. "so spoiled, so rotten." she teases. "so you think you could handle such a big task? dealing with me won't always be easy, I might look small but I can be a handful." she hums, her tone is playful but she also means it. loving her won't be easy all the time...she hopes he knows what he's getting himself into. "forever sounds nice though, I wouldn't mind forever being yours." does this all mean what she thinks it does? she doesn't want to think too far ahead, he was still with daphne after all but it's hard not to be hopeful.

and it's those next words that makes her catch her breath a little, now her heart is pounding and he definitely has to hear it if that's humanly possible, rattling in her chest like a drum when he asks her that question in such a breathy tone, eyes fluttering a little. "then I'm never letting you go." she says, fingers tracing against his pale skin that almost illuminates under the moonlight. "but I want it to be right, no obstacles or stress...no daphne, I want to make you mine and have you be mine." she says gently, it would be perfect under the moon here at their favorite place but she needs to be sure that he's free to truly be hers. however, for now she will enjoy what she can get. the way his tongue slides into her mouth, remembering the way he tastes against her tongue as a soft muffled moan leaves her, it's like all her troubles and worries are melting away with his kiss, something she longed so deeply for for so long and it's almost better than the first. more hungry and desperate, his hands on her body as her hands are on his face moving to run through his hair again as she gives it a gentle tug, as if to beg for more when he's sucking on her lower lip. it's like a fairytale, kissing in the most beautiful spot at hogwarts, her right leg lifting behind her a little like it does in those silly romances. regulus nibbles at her lower lip and she can feel his hands traveling lower down her body sending goosebumps through her skin as he whispers something that makes her blush harder than before, the air feels so tight like she can barely breathe as she nods slowly. "please..." she mumbles before smashing her lips up against his again.

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. bexley ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( canon thread ) .

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holylulusworld · 3 years ago

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Smirk of the devil

Title: Smirk of the devil

Summary: He’s the devil in disguise.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo: (“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years.” – SPN)

Word Count: 1,9k

Pairing: Clubowner!Dean x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby, Gadreel, unnamed girl

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, smut, unprotected sex, a hint of fluff, mentions of cheating (implied), sadness, toxic relationship?, unrequited feelings, Dean hurt the reader more than once, hopeful ending but no happy ending

Divider by @firefly-graphics

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Excuse me, miss,“ a young girl, barely twenty-one coos. She looks up at you with big doe eyes, batting her eyelashes. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester. He asked me to come here at nine.”

“No, you don’t,” anyone not knowing you would think you are trying to be rude to the girl, but this is so far from the truth. “Girls like you shouldn’t come to places like these.” you huff when the girl rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to meet up with Dean.”

“And you know this why?” she sasses, hands on her hips now.

You can smell the strawberry chewing gum she tortured the whole time and can’t help but chuckle at her bratty attitude. Once upon a time, you were just like her.

Sweet, innocent, an intact heart beating in your chest.

“You’re not my mom. So, why do you think you can keep me away from Dean,” you’d like to slap her face at the ‘mom’ comment but bite your tongue. You never were a violent person. Maybe if you were, Dean would run around with one ball missing. “I bet you’re just jealous he wants me.”

What can you possibly tell the girl? That he will break her heart. That, once he has you in his clutches he will strip off your dignity, rip any pride left out of your chest and replace your former self with a drooling mess, begging him to do it all over again.

“Speak of the devil,” you whisper, watching Dean waltz into his club, the bunker, the place you first met. Those days seem a lifetime away. Back then you still were a cute and clueless girl, missing the way he tainted you with every touch and kiss.

“I want to speak to him, now,” the girl pouts and you get the feeling she’s rather a girl scout wanting to sell cookies than her pussy to a man she won’t be able to handle. “NOW!”

“It’s your funeral, sweet cheeks,” you wave her off, walk past the girl to talk to Dean Winchester, the devil himself. Oh, how you wish you could tell him to go to hell, but you would only beg him to take you with him.

“Sweetheart,” he dips his head, shamelessly roams your body with darkened eyes, “you look ready to get eaten.” damn him, he smirks, and you get weak in the knees. “And you will—”

“Another of your fangirls,” you jerk your head in the girl’s direction, rolling your eyes. “Guess you are down to high school girls now, Winchester. Shame on you.”

“Jealous?” he cocks his head, watches you turn on your heels, ignoring your racing heart when he walks behind you, one hand on the small of your back. “So, how’s it going with your mysterious boyfriend lately?”

“Wonderful,” you grit out, already walking faster to brush Dean off. “I told you, no questions about my love life or I’ll quit once for all, Dean. Go, take care of your girl.”

It’s when he walks toward the girl that you allow yourself to admire his back, his broad shoulders, and, yes, his ass.

“Ogling my brother again?” Sam stands too close for comfort, but you don’t mind. “What’s the state of your on-and-off relationship? Who’s winning this round?”

“No one is going to win shit, Sammy. Dean wants to fuck every woman with a pulse, and I want a faithful man, period,” you turn your attention back toward the bartender who wanted to talk to you about the latest order.

“He’s hard to handle, I told you so,” Sam nudges your side. “Why don’t you lay claim on him and show any woman he’s yours.”

“Dean is not my man, never was,” you sigh, eyes filled with unshed tears once again. “When we met, he did anything to get me, and then, he dropped me like any other girl. I’m not what he wants, Sam. Dean lives for his club, Baby, and having sex with any woman he can get into his bed…”

“Bunny hole would be the better name for this shithole,” you grit out, downing your first drink of the night. “Give me another one, Gade. I wanna get drunk tonight.”

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t drink at work,” Dean sits on the barstool next to you, grinning when you grasp for the next drink.

He easily snatches the drink out of your hands, downing it in one go, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Your boss could catch you red-handed and fire you or slap your ass. Whatever you prefer.”

“Go ahead and fire me, Winchester. This shithole will go down without the manager keeping it alive,” you quip. “Now let me have another drink. My shift is almost over.”

“Almost,” he whispers in your ear, fingertips sliding over your thigh to hike up your skirt. “How about we talk about this at my office in the back, Miss Y/L/N?” you place your hand on top of Dean’s to guide it to his thigh, hiding you shivered at his touch.

“Don’t hurt yourself, boss,” you lean closer to whisper the words. “I think you had enough fun with little miss sunshine not an hour ago. I hope you checked she was at age, Dean.”

“Jesus, I asked her to come around for a job, nothing else,” Dean grumbles, hand moving toward your thigh again. “I don’t play with girls, only with women.”

“Yeah, I remember how well you played with half of the female population in town,” snickering Dean slides off his barstool to stand behind you. He’s caging you with his body, places both hands on each side of the bar counter.

“You were one of them, and I remember you were so eager to get out of that cute dress you wore only for me, sweetheart,” he husks in your ear. “Come to my office, Miss Y/L/N, and let’s talk about your behavior lately.”

“If you insist, boss,” you hate you follow him all too eager.

While Dean waltzes toward his office, waving at people, you fight your way through the masses, unbeknownst Sam is following your every step with his eyes.

“She will fall for him all over again,” Ruby sighs. The brunette sips at her drink while sitting on Sam’s lap. “Can you not tell your brother to stop breaking my friend’s heart? She deserves better for fuck’s sake. Two years ago, she found a nice guy and tried to quit only to do the walk of shame the next morning.”

“I can’t help two fools in love to find their way. I tried, Baby. Don’t ask me to talk to my brother about love again. He’s stubborn. You know that Ruby.”

“I know, still, she deserves better than a quick fuck at his office only to end up alone and weeping on the floor for weeks after he had his way with her…”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean groans with every thrust. “I’ve missed this tight little cunt around me.” you hate yourself for letting Dean in once again while he takes you apart.

What can a girl do when he has you pressed against the wall the moment he closed the door behind you. His lips on yours, his hands on your ass to heave you up to hold you against the wall.

His thrusts are more demanding tonight, his lips tender against your throat and his hand, well his hands hold you a little tighter. “Dean, fuck—we shouldn’t.”

“A little too late for regrets,” the devil moans in your neck, moves a little slower to drag his thick length against your walls. “You’re so wet for me, Sugar.” you whimper at the nickname.

It brings back memories of all the nights he called you like that, voice hoarse and his eyes only set on you.

“Go to hell—” you finally choke out, still, you hold tight onto his shoulders when he starts to fuck up into you at a madding pace.

“I’ll just take you with me,” he grips your ass tighter, moves you up and down his length while his lips do the worst thing possible – they claim yours in a bruising kiss, take your breath away.

Dean moans against your soft pillows, ignores a single tear that runs down your cheek or that your cunt flutters around him.

“You’re mine, my girl,” he demands, hips jerking uncontrollably now. “Never gonna let you go. Just hold tight, baby.”

You grasp for his shoulders, dig your nails deep into his skin when you can’t hold back the approaching high anymore. A wave of pleasure washes over you and for a moment everything is like it should be—until it isn’t.

His warmth fills you and you remember the way he ended things, right after he fucked you against the wall at his place.

“What if you let me fall?” there is so much fear and pain hidden behind those few words Dean stops moving for a moment. He just looks at you pinned to the wall, bare and vulnerable right in front of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Why do you always keep coming back to me?” he nips at your lips, hands wrapping around your back. “Why, baby?”

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years,” you give Dean a sad smile, eyes filled with tears again. “Maybe I’m a masochist and like to get hurt. I don’t know why I let you in over and over again only to get broken.”

“I hate to break it for you, but we have this thing going on for almost six years,” Dean laughs when you punch his shoulder. “Maybe a little longer.”

“I know, dumbass,” you shake your head. “Two years ago, I found a new job and tried to leave town, but then you dragged me back into your life, and since then…”

“You try to escape me and my charming personality…”

“Why are you still here?” looking over your shoulder you wonder why Dean didn’t leave your place like he always does after he got what he wanted. “Isn’t one of your other girls waiting for you?”

“I told you that the girl was there for a job, not to suck my dick,” he kicks his shoes off and drops his shirt to the ground before he unzips his pants. “I want to stay the night.”

“Why?” watching Dean strip his socks off you frown. “Dean, you don’t need to pretend shit, okay. We both know I was just convenient again.” you turn around, not wanting to face the devil again. If you do, he’ll drag you down to hell again.

“Y/N, baby,” he crawls under the covers to press his face into your shoulder, “you’re not convenient to me. I swear, I asked the girl to come to the club for a job. She asked around at my mom’s place and I offered she can take over a few shifts. As a waitress, not for me to… you know…”

“How shall I know?” you hate that his warmth lulls you into safety. And you hate his arms wrap around your waistline even more. “All you do is to bang random chicks at your office. Just like you did with me not an hour ago.”

“You’re not a random chick, Y/N,” oddly Dean clings to you tonight. He burrows his face in your neck, not letting go of you until he feels your breathing even out. “Maybe you are the only girl I ever loved. I was just too afraid to keep you in my life.”

You can’t react to his confession as you are fast asleep. Dean doesn’t care. He needed to get it off his chest.

“No matter what, you’ll always be mine, sweetheart. Come hell or high water,” he whispers.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll give him another chance to prove he’s not the devil, only a lonely man who messed things up years ago.

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#Smirk of the devil #dean winchester #spnquotebingo #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #smut #angst

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this-is-spn20 · 3 years ago

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Imagine… How happy Sam is to find out you have feelings for him and not Dean.

A/N: Here you guys go! As promised I present a new story! This goes out to all my fellow Sam girls! I also want to know if you guys would want to have me add the gender of the reader. If so would you guys want more male readers and GN readers? Let me know in the comments! Requests are always open! There's no limit to requesting! Spread Love guys!

-Marissa

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You were convinced Sam was blind. Or had some sort of vision problem. You had thrown this man every hint in the fucking book and he still didn’t get it. You were pretty sure if you spelled it out for him he still wouldn’t get it. You had met the Winchesters through an interesting turn of events. They needed help with a particularly tricky group of shapeshifters.

You were mostly doing research and weapons check. When Dean left for a few hours to question the victims, you got to know Sam. You shared a lot of the same interests. You both had just enough differences to teach each other new things. You got to show him your more modern music choices while he taught you the classics. You and Sam had incredible chemistry. You thought you and Sam would be a cute couple. So did Dean. In fact you confide in him more often than not about your school girl crush with Sam. In fact, you weren’t watching old western movies with Dean and eating your ass off, you were snuggled up under Sam laughing and eating your ass off. Though the underlying threat of him tearing your lungs out if you were to hurt Sam is constantly looming over your head. Dean always acts like he’s annoyed but honestly he’s happy that you feel safe about this stuff with him.

You and Dean over a few months became best friends. Brother and sister even. He always jokes about telling Sam everything unless you make some homemade pie. You comply of course, not knowing Sam felt the same way about you. Dean will be the one who pushes you towards Sam. Things have really been awkward per se with you Sam, you try to distance yourself from him, hoping that your feelings will blow over. Of course, that wasn’t the case.

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Sam was convinced that you were blind. It seemed that every single hint he had thrown at you was dodged. Every compliment towards you was casually casted aside. Sam, as much as he’d hate to admit it, was jealous of Dean. He always got the girl with virtually no effort. Sam felt that maybe, if given the chance, he could make you very happy.

He couldn’t get over you no matter how much he tried. You were the kindest person, but still a badass. You were soft spoken but passionate. You were just… you. Nothing fake or artificial, just all you. Sam wanted you so badly but also felt like you were too good for him. A woman like you must think he’s some sorry sap. A person as pure as you would be corrupted with someone like him.

Yet a man can dream can’t he?

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Dean is convinced that the both of you are blind, deaf, and everything in between. I mean, How could you guys NOT see the chemistry jumping off you both? Honestly this whole ‘slow burn’ bullshit is getting on his nerves.

If Dean could force you two to kiss, he would. Maybe he should get both of you drunk off your ass and make you spill your guts. Or maybe he should just tell the both of you straight up to stop being little bitches. Yeah.

Yeah.

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The next morning at breakfast Dean saw you and Sam and the table talking about an upcoming case and what kind of research needs to be done that day. Dean knew this was it.

“Good morning guys.” Dean’s voice alerting you and Sam to his presence.

You both greet him with ‘Hi’ and ‘Hey’. Dean pours his coffee and clears his throat.

“Both of you both have the biggest crush on each other. It makes me sick, just tell each other already.” While Sam chokes on his coffee you give Dean the most evil look as he smirks and walks out the kitchen.

“I can’t believe that fucker just-” You’re stunned in your seat as Sam interrupts you.

“Was he telling the truth (y/n)?” Sam asked, slightly wide-eyed.

As much as you wanted to rip Dean to shreds, you also wanted to thank him.

“Yes Sam, it is.”

Let’s see where this road takes us.

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It's short but it's the best I could do. Hope it doesn't suck and that you guys like this! I'll be trying to write more in the future!

Spread Love!

-Marissa

#spn imagine #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

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verobatto · 4 years ago

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Unrequited Destiel...

The Legend of The Sun and The Moon

I just wanted to explain in a few words to those that are asking why Dean didn't reply to Cas or why is Jensen talking about angelical way to feel things.

I know they're a lot of post saying WE TOLD YOU THIS AND THAT, and is true. Because if you read my Destiel Chronicles from the beginning, you will see I ALWAYS CALLED THE UNREQUITED LOVE FROM CAS AND DEAN'S POV.

Some of you disbelieves this idea, but is the only way to intepretate why Destiel is the slowest slow burn ever.

No more intro, let's suffer together...

Season 4 and 5 JUST A FLIRTING GAME

Once Dean was pulled out from Hell, Castiel wanted to talk with him. He didn't wait a second. Things blew and it was messy, and even Bobby was scared that that thing would hurt his idjit. But it was just Cas, trying to speak with Dean, desperately trying to reach him in his true form. Why? Because he wanted to talk with him. He had to explain Dean's mission but also, he felt fascinated. And even more after their first meeting face to face when he was finally able to find a vessel.

And Dean just it took him just a little of his time to feel the same fascination. The almighty angel, that could see right through his soul.

But also the angel that said things like...

And we have the handprint too, such an intimate sign between these two.

Castiel showing him, honestly showing him with words and actions, his special interest on him:

"My superiors begun to question my sympathies. I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You."

How would Dean take this here? The poor guy just decided to check out the angel, and speechless as he was at that moment, couldn't reply to it. "Is he flirting with me? Does he know how gay this sounds?"

Then Cas rebel against Heaven for Dean. Dean pushed him, the whole he pushed Cas to help him. If you rewatch season 4 Dean is constantly asking Cas to help him. Because he already know Cas was different. Because he felt Cas was his friend, his ally, and something else it was growing up in his chest.

While Cas pushed him against the wall, cut his forearm and drew the sigil, Dean's face is full of awe. He can't believe this soldier powerful angel is doing this for him.

And then... "We're making it up as we go."

Gif credit @cyxnrose

The beginning of season 5 is a very busy Cas searching for God, but also, the flirtation begins. Dean is like a cute boy flirting with his crush. The second meaning jokes, trying to figure out if Cas catch it is hilarious. But he will understand 'Cas doesn't understand that reference.'

From Dean's POV in these two season, we coul under he thinks angels are junk less.

Season 6: The profound Bond and the Longing

The romantic feeling from both sides began to flow even more when Castiel goes into the black side, and the first Destiel break up appears infron of our eyes in the middle of a very romantic scenes.

Gif credit @starlightcastiel

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind

The last gif is out of discussion, bot men looking at each other with sad eyes, longing and as if their conversation isn't over. Dean being disappointed at Cas and Cas trying to make him see his point. Everything he does, he does it for Dean.

And now we know why it is.

Season 7: Mourning Dean and the Jealousy

Even with Showrunner Sera Gamble trying to focus Dean's morning into a Wincest subtext, we had put king Ben Edlund came to the rescue in episode 7x09.

Putting things in order, we were faced with Dean's source of depression: Castiel's death.

So, after that, when Cas really comes back, the reunion is another romantic movie. The MEMORY LOST trope.

And then... Castiel's pseudo wife...

The trope is getting better with the spicy Jealousy in Dean's eyes.

Gif credit @impalaofgrace

So he can't completely enjoy Cas is back because:

1) He doesn't remember him: so, how can be mad or anything else if Cas doesn't remember any details of their break up?

2)The guy has a wife! Okay, so, he has a wife, he easily got a wife from... Nowhere?

And then Meg comes and he is Jealous all over again!

Dean is a really mess of feelings, but in the end, when Cas recalls everything, and when I say everything, i mean Dean, because the majority of his memories was him, Dean just pulls out from his car Castiel's bloody trenchcoat and gives it him back!

So, if there was any doubts about why was Dean mourning and depressed for, we have the confirmation!

Then, let's turn the page, because now is Cas the mess... Depressed and suffering, because he almost destroy heaven, but, do you know what cares the most to Cas and when he cheers up? Yes...

When Dean says... "I RATHER JAVE YOU, CURSED OR NOT" Castiel immediately changed his face, he smiles, and kept staring at Dean with heart eyes. He was happy because Dean was forgiving him. Because since he recovered his memories, the biggest cause of it was Dean's rejection. Dean not being able to forgive him. That was the main cause of his sadness. That's why he avoided reality, he didn't have a cause, because his cause was Dean and Dean was mad at him. But now? Cas is happy again. That's why he decides to come back to battle. "I'll go with you."

Season 8 Purgatory of love and Pining!Dean

Okay, is in this season, Carver era, when Dean's POV has a turning point about Castiel and his true feelings for him and is in this season, when Dean starts pining strongly for the angel, and feeling his love is unrequited.

The cause of it, is Purgatory. The Purity about Purgatory resided in the capacity of that place to resides in abolish every human necessity to let the mind to focused in what really matters. In this case for Dean was SURVIVE AND CAS.

So we can say that what remained pure in Dean's heart was TO FIND CASTIEL.

That's why he prayed to him every night, and that's why in the moment Cas CONFESS he ran away to protect him, something in Dean changes forever.

Gif credit @agusvedder

If you pay attention to Dean's face reaction here, is the expression of the man that realizes in that precisely moment his feelings for Castiel. Even Cas stares to a side, because there was Benny watching them, and the thing he was about to say it was too intimate. I did it to protect you.

Dean, the Big Protector, is being protected by Castiel. So, in Purgatory, Dean Winchester find out his not platonic love for his best friend.

Then we had the entire season with pining!Dean and deception.

Dean's mind invented one excuse for Castiel running away from him because thinking his best friend abbandoned him, was just too painful. He does this again when Cas pushed him inside the gate and he stays in Purgatory. Dean just rewrote in his mind the whole sequence. Imagining that Cas was defeated. But the reality was, Castiel wanted to stay. And when Cas reveals this truth to the hunter, Dean's face is a mix of deep sadness and deception. He felt really rejected by his friend. He felt his unrequited romantic love for him. But he will feel it more stronger in the crypt scene, with the brainwashing and how Castiel's love for Dean broke th connection. But he left. That was a real rejection the hunter barely could handled.

Season 9: Pinning!Castiel and Human!Cas

When Cas became Human, he has to face all the intensity of human's feelings. In this season, is time for our angel to realize his romantic love for the hunter.

Castiel will mirroring Dean's pining in season 8, and he will also feel rejected by him.

Just like Dean in season 8, Castiel will feel his romantic love is unrequited, after Dean kicked him out from the bunker, being this the parallel to the crypt scene.

But then Cain's mark comes, and everything gets worst.

Season 10: Castiel is Dean's Colette

The whole Cain's mark was the visual sign of the Destiel handprint (profound bond) attempt of break.

With Cain and Dean going through a perfect parallelism in which Crowley was placed in the friend's spot, Sam in the brother's spot and Castiel in Colette's spot. Blatant and canon exposure of what Cas means for Dean.

But now, is time for Dean, after came back for being a demon, to feel unrequited again. And this is a detail that could be not seen, but it caught my attention.

CASTIEL: At least temporarily. It’s a long story. Crowley, stolen grace. There’s a female outside in the car.

This is what Castiel says when he goes into Dean's room and after Dean praises him...

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind

Dean had been with Crowley when he was a demon this whole time, so Cas was heartbroken. Even this season opens with a very depressed Castiel in the bed just let himself die because Dean was gone. So, that's why Cas says this.

So you went with Crowley, i have a female in my car. See? I don't need you.

He was Jealous, and now Dean gets Jealous, but he also gets the sensation again of his love for Castiel is unrequited.

The episode that followed this one, Dean goes into a blind date with random chick he took from a date app (very ooc, but he did it because he had his heart broken and because he thought CAS had cheated on him while he was gone as a demon.)

Season 11: Dean resist a forced bond with Amara because he's bonded with Castiel

Season 11 is a blatant exposure of Dean's feelings for Castiel. There a lot of hints throughout the season telling us Dean is in love, just like in season 9 there was hints of this with Castiel. (Again, mirroring each other).

Dean resisted Amara because of his love for Castiel. But Cas is oblivious about this.

When Castiel is possesed by Lucifer, Dean switch's into desperate mode. If he was worried about his attraction for Amara, now the only thing he cares was Castiel, exposing again WHO DEAN IS IN LOVE WITH.

But when Dean wanted to rescue Castiel, and Cas didn't want to come back to him, it hurt him worst. Again, just like in season 8, Dean can't handle Cas doesn't want to come back with him (first from Purgatory and now from being possesed). Again Dean feels rejected and unrequited. That's why when Cas is back and the end of the world is close... Dean says these words...

"You're our brother, Cas. I want you to know that."

And Cas' face...

Gif credit @mad-as-a-box-of-frogs

That's a man with the heart broken, mostly because we know now he was in love with Dean CANON FACT! (sobbing louder).

Season 12 and the confusing I LOVE YOU

This season was full of married couple situations, but mostly, we had Castiel's I Love You in the barn, before "dying".

At first Dean thinks the angel was saying this as goodbye, expressing into words his feelings for the Winchesters. Because as and angel, maybe Cas was feeling he has to protect them all. But then he says this singular I Love You to Dean, and the guy doesn't know how to take it. It was a platonic ILY? A non platonic ILY? Does angels feel the same like us? Does he sees me as a brother? Dean was truly a mess, so he decides to respond to that with a Mixtape.

But, when Castiel disappears for days, he sinks again into that sensation of unrequited romantic love.

Then Cas comes back, and then he goes away again, and then he dies.

Season 13: The reunion and the meaning of Castiel coming back

Dean's mourning for Cas can't be interpreted otherwise than LOSING THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE.

And the longing for his angel plus some Nougat powers, brought him back.

The thing is, Dean didn't expr as his feeling for Castiel and when the angel asked him that he needed to believed that he came back for a reason, Dean goes...

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind

This sound like if he was recruiting Cas for war. And Cas' took it as that. So he came back to soldier angel mode. Because, okay, if Dean and Sam needed him to fight, he will fight.

Unrequited Love again.

Season 14 Healing Dean and the prelude of the break up

Post-possesed Dean is a follow up of self knowledge and self growing. He was healing the whole season.

But in episode 14x04 we heard Dean being Jealous or hurt because Castiel didn't go to rescue him and then because he goes into hunts with Jack. Unrequited love again.

Did Cas miss me as I missed him?

Is the first time Dean will actually name the word LOVE talking with the kid.

And then Mary dies and everything is a mess.

Dean yells YOU ARE DEAD TO ME, and how sad that sounds now that the angel had died again. Saving his life.

Dark clouda over our ship...

Season 15: And Maybe is not too late...

In season 15 we lived the angst of the Destiel break up, but then their reunion in Purgatory was beautiful.

Again, facing the fact that he could lost Cas one more time, Dean went down on his knees and prayed to him, and because he was in Purgatory, his heart and mind were released from any distraction, and he was plenty focused in the love he feels for his angel.

He cried, and begged for him to come back.

And he found him, following his heart, the profound bond he has with Castiel.

But, when he was about to say something that he hadn't said in the prayer, Castiel cut him off. So... Again the hunter had to swallow his words and the unrequited love punch him again.

Then... Castiel's romantic love confession took Dean by surprise, because, now that you read all the clues i gave you and i convinced you that Dean and Cas thought their love were unrequited, you will understand Dean's reaction.

Gif credit @spnsmile

Dean didn't can't believe Cas had loved him the way he does this whole time and now, he will lose him again. Is too much pain he can't handle.

For a lot of reasons we had analyzed so many times (Dean's arc has to have a closure expressing his ILY to the angel, the Empty plot is not ended, Etc) Is logical to think Cas will come back in the last episode, and this slow burn story will end with them being together, finally.

To Conclude:

The legend of the Sun and the Moon talks about two lovers that can't be reunited but they love each other deeply.

Is accurate with Destiel, because these two men had always being pining for each other but never be able to be together as they wish.

Castiel always thinking Dean doesn't reciprocate his romantic feeling for him and Dean thinking because Cas is an angel, he doesn't love him back romantically.

The Sacred Oath always playing in Castiel's POV as an impediment too and Dean's love clocked in shame too.

The deal with the Empty had been settled as we suspected in season 14, as a romantic plot. So, it has to have a closure.

These thoughts are based on the volumes from my assay "The Destiel Chronicles", currently in it's 87th volume.

See you soon! Have faith!

Destiel Is Forever!

Tagging @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @maleansu @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-cas @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 17th 2020 8:33 PM

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cathrrrine · 3 years ago

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The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 2 - Juice Box

“We’re here for Y/N Winchester.” Sam called out to the strange voice that filled the room. The very same voice had greeted them the moment they stepped into the lobby.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Appointment? Who the hell does she think she is? Some kind of celebrity?” Dean complained, a scowl starting to grow on his face.

“Come on Dean, chill.” Sam tried to keep his brother calm. “She’s an Avenger now. Say what you want, but she is important.”

The Winchesters couldn’t help but be awed by the magnificent structure and interior of the building when they first walked in. The Stark Tower would be the last place they’d ever go to on any other day. But this wasn’t any other day.

“No, we do not have an appointment. But could we set one up right now?” Sam once again talked to the air. He kind of made out that he was talking to an A.I, the too-formal voice bordering on robotic giving it away.

“I’m sorry, but there is no Y/N Winchester here.”

“What? Sammy, you said she lived in this stupid tower?”

“I thought she did. Maybe she moved?”

“Are you looking for Y/N L/N?” The voice replied.

“L/N?” Dean made a face at his brother. “Who the hell is that?”

“I think she changed her last name.” Sam gulped, trying to hide the hurt on his face. Dean went silent. They were both thinking the same thing. If she erased Winchester from her name, there’d be no way in hell she’d be happy to see them at all.

“Yeah, we’re looking for her.” Sam gulped nervously.

“Please place your hands on the glass.” The voice instructed.

“What glass?” Dean questioned, and immediately a couple of square glass boxes glowed in front of them. When they looked closer, they saw the shape of a hand etched onto it’s surface.

“It’s a scanner.”

They did as they were told, placing their right hands on the glass. It glowed yellow a few seconds after.

“Miss L/N is on the sixth floor.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably. They were both nervous to see their sister again, after all these years.

“Dean-“

“It’s too late to turn back now. We have to tell her what we need to.” The older of the Winchesters sighed, knowing full well what thoughts were swimming in Sam’s mind. He knew because he shared those thoughts too.

When the doors opened, they were hit with the reality of the moment. As soon as they saw their sister, their minds went blank. She was dressed in a leather jumpsuit, and next to her was a familiar blond man carrying a little boy who had fallen asleep.

After what seemed like forever, she finally broke the silence. “Sam. Dean.” Y/N acknowledged them, breathless.

They stepped out of the elevator, worry evident on their faces. You haven’t seen your brothers in years, so long that they’ve become nothing but a distant memory to you.

“Y/N, we need to talk to you.” Sam, your younger brother, stepped forward. You were frozen in shock. The last time you saw them, you had been disowned. That was almost seven years ago.

“What do you want?” You said, with no hint of joy in your voice. Steve could tell how confused and angry you were, noticing the tremor in your voice that only he could point out. He saw the way your nostrils were flaring despite your efforts to hide it. He would’ve walked away had he been anybody else, but he knew you needed him by your side right now. More than ever.

“We need to tell you something.” Sam insisted. “It’s important, I promise.”

You supposed he was telling the truth. There’d be no other reason for them to come here and meet you face to face. They hadn’t contacted you in a long time. You couldn’t think of a reason why they’d be here in the first place.

“Then tell me.”

“I think you might wanna sit down for this.”

Sam was doing all the talking. All the while, Dean just stood there, looking at anywhere else besides you. All these years and he still hasn’t forgiven me? You thought.

“Babe.” Steve’s voice alerted you. You had almost forgotten he was there, and you were grateful he didn’t leave. “Come on, let’s go to the living room.”

He grabbed your hand, tilting his head in the direction of the couches. You took a moment, eyeing the living room as a thousand thoughts bounced around your head. I could say no. I could walk away and leave them just like they did with me.

“Y/N.” Steve grabbed your chin gently, turning your head to face them. “You should go.”

You nodded slowly. He was right, and you hated that he was. But no man knew you better than he did, and he knew you’d regret it if you pushed your brothers away now. “You should go too, he should be tucked in bed.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically. In all honesty, you wanted him to be with you. But this was something you needed to handle on your own, whether you liked it or not. Plus, you couldn’t risk your baby boy waking up in the middle of a heated conversation.

“Yeah.” You planted a kiss on James cheek before pecking Steve on the lips. “Go.”

He squeezed your hand before letting go and walking to the elevator. You watched as the doors closed, knowing that once they did, you’d have to face the two men standing in front of you.

Your brothers didn’t miss the exchange between you and Steve, and they couldn’t help but wonder who they were to you. But there was no room for any other questions, their minds focused on one thing only; telling you the news.

“Let’s go.”

You lead them to the living room, making a beeline for your favourite couch. You sat on it cross-legged, grabbing the fluffy pillow next to you and putting it on top of your legs. You held your hands together, waiting for them to start the conversation.

“We came here to tell you something important.” Sam began, clearing his throat nervously.

“Yeah, I know. What is it?”

“It’s not exactly...good news so much as it is bad news.”

You nodded curtly, trying to look like you were listening, but you were distracted by Dean. He had made the decision to not sit down and instead he paced around the room, looking at all the objects rather than making eye contact with you. Your eyes followed him, and it wasn’t long before Sam noticed and did the same too.

“So, what? You still won’t look at me after all these years?” Venom dripped from your tone, laced with hurt and anger that you no longer wanted to hide from them.

Dean stopped ‘studying’ the piece of decoration that he held in his hands, trying to think of a response. “I’m not the one who changed my last name.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You told me I wasn’t a part of the family anymore. I thought, might as well.”

“Well, how nice of you, Miss L/N. ” He said the name menacingly.

You stood up, fuming with anger. “Seven years, Dean. Seven. That’s how long it’s been.”

“Look who kept count.”

“Oh, fuck off. If you’re gonna be an asshole why don’t you see yourself out?”

“Guys!” The tallest of them three yelled, joining them in standing up. “Can’t we just...talk?!” He was desperate for a civil conversation, especially since what he was about to tell his sister was important.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, breathing heavily as you tried to keep your cool. You were far more mature now than you were back then, and you knew arguing wasn’t the best way to handle this as much as you wanted to.

“Look, Y/N. A lot of shit has went down since you left- we left you.” Sam corrected himself. You noticed his change of words, and you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. “And I know, you don’t want anything to do with us anymore.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You recognised the pain, it was the same pain that almost destroyed you when your brothers left you. It wasn’t true, what Sam said. There was a part of you that missed them deeply. They were family after all.

“But what I’m about to tell you is...it’s...” he struggled to find the words. Dean took a deep breath before cutting him short.

“Mom’s alive, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure you heard him right, blinking hard a few times just to make sure you weren’t out of it. “Come again?”

“Mom is alive. Our mother, Mary Winchester, is alive.”

The room started to spin. You weren’t sure how to feel. “H-how?”

“It’s a real long story. The short and sweet version is, God’s sister brought her back.” Dean answered.

“God has a sister?” You didn’t really care if he did. But the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who you’ve longed to meet your whole life...was alive. Your mother’s death had basically been the reason why the Winchester’s were hunters. And so much has happened since then.

When your father died, you spent months feeling guilty at the fact that you never got to truly, truly know the man. You had believed you were unfortunate enough to be someone who never really knew their parents. But now...you couldn’t believe that you had a chance to do just that.

“That is definitely not the short and sweet version, Dean.” Sam scolded his brother. Then he looked your way, starting to get worried when you didn’t speak for a good minute. “Y/N?”

“Mom...Mom’s alive.” You whispered to yourself. “Where is she now?”

“In our bunker.”

“Bunker?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, wondering if they should lay out the whole seven years of their lives for it to make sense to Y/N. “Yeah, we have a bunker now.”

“In Kansas?” You took a wild guess.

“Right up in Lawrence.”

Your brain was buzzing with a thousand questions that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask just yet. The main question was...would they willingly let you back in their lives? Would they let you talk to your now-alive mom?

“Y/N,” Sam took a step towards you. “We could take you to her if you want to. That’s what we came here for. We knew you’d want to meet-“

“Mommy!”

Sam was cut off for the second time that day, but this time it wasn’t so harsh. And it didn’t come from an adult man.

“Hey, sorry, honey.” Steve came in carrying the (Y/HC) boy who was crying uncontrollably. “He had a nightmare. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop crying. He wanted you.”

James often had nightmares recently, and you were the only one that could soothe him. All thoughts of the previous conversation disappeared as your focus shifted to your motherly duties. “Oh, no. Come here baby boy. Momma’s here.”

As you reached for your wailing son, your brothers’ eyes went wide. When the looked at each other, they had the same expression; confusion and guilt. The fact that they had a nephew that they didn’t know about this whole time made the regret of not ever contacting you in the span of seven years stronger. Guilt churned in their stomachs.

Steve had went to the kitchen to fetch his son a juice box, but when he came back he had a couple of beers in his hands, along with the juice. He handed the beers to the two shocked men wordlessly, and they accepted it graciously.

James was now sniffling as you rubbed his back soothingly, planting kisses to his head now and then. Steve jabbed the straw through the juice box before giving it to you.

“You want some juice, baby?” You gently put the juice box in his hands. With a pout he nodded, putting the straw to his lips and drinking quietly. “Shh, now. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

After a while, his breathing returned back to normal. It was only then you remembered your brothers were watching the whole thing. You looked up to them, seeing the confused expression on their faces as they sipped their beers.

“Where’d you get those?” You whispered to Steve, nodding slightly towards the beers in their hands.

“Fridge. I think it’s Tony’s.”

You gave him a small smile, “Are you trying to win their approval? You know you don’t need it, right?”

“I’m just trying to be a good...host.”

“Of what? This isn’t a party, Rogers.” You almost laughed.

“Who’s that?” The small, sleepy voice interrupted your conversation. James pointed his tiny finger toward Sam and Dean, who sat up straighter when they saw the little boy look at them.

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You weren’t sure who to introduce them as. You didn’t even know if they wanted to be anyone to your son. Steve’s eyes met yours, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘Want me to handle it?’. You chewed your lip nervously, hoping your son would just forget the question.

But luck wasn’t on your side today. “Mommy, who’s that?” He grabbed your shirt.

“Um...” you sighed. In that moment, your eyes met Sam’s. His eyebrows were furrowed, an expression you recognised as his stressed-out look from growing up with him.

“We’re your...uncles.”

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Part of you was thankful that he replied, but part of you was upset because it would be cruel to tell a three-year-old boy that and then leave forever.

“Uncle?” James tilted his head, putting his pointing finger down. Whenever he said ‘uncle’, it sounded like ‘un-caw-l’. It was the cutest thing ever. Usually it would bring a smile to your face, but now all it did was worry you.

“Daddy.” He turned to Steve.

“Yeah, bud?”

”Can I have some of uncle’s drink?”

Steve stifled a laugh, “No, baby. I think you should stick to your juice box.”

You looked at Sam, eyebrows raised. He shrugged, a small smile growing on his face.

Boy, were you in for a life-changing ride.

#jesus what was i on while writing this...#spn x mcu #supernatural reader insert #the devil's in the details spn x mcu #avengers reader insert #supernatural x marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x winchester!reader #marvel reader insert #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #mary winchester #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff

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youve-always-had-me-cas · 4 years ago

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Kaia never considered herself as having a gift. Growing up more or less alone there had been no one to teach her about her power, no one to reassure her that what she was seeing night on night was not just a symptom of her own insanity, but in fact the insanity of a whole other world. And even when the Winchesters had come crashing into her life, a whole host of crazy revelations in tow, all that the truth had brought her was more horrors. Nearly two years trapped in the realm of her nightmares.

She had been so happy when, after returning, it seemed like the dreams had disappeared for good. Instead of a life on the run trying her best to always keep one eye open she had found herself with a family, and a place to feel safe in the night. They were a little rough around the edges maybe, a little dysfunctional, but that meant she fit right in.

There was even something more going on, between her and Claire, that neither of them were game enough to talk about seriously but that was reflected plain as day in the smiles that Claire offered in response to her own. It was a little weird, returning from the dead after spending only a few days together what felt like a lifetime ago, but even from the first moment of their reunion it was clear Kaia hadn’t imagined what they had shared, and the opportunity to elaborate on it had been embraced by both of them almost immediately.

It was Claire’s bed that she woke up in when the nightmares returned.

She woke with a start, a strangled gasp dying in her throat. It was a violent reaction, the instinct to run, and she only registered Claire’s arms flying away from her many moments after the action had already happened. Sitting on the edge of the bed now, trembling, she tried her hardest to keep quiet, hoping her outburst had not woken the other woman in the room. Fruitless, of course, Claire was a hunter and not used to a heavy sleep.

The whisper came from behind her only moments later. “Are you alright?”

Kaia wanted to say yes. She wanted to to say, don’t worry, just going to the bathroom, and not allow the past to ruin all that she cherished by usurping the peace she had found in this room. But behind her eyes there was only bloodshed, and nothing she could say could make it go away again now. She was too shaken, the words wouldn’t form themselves in her mouth.

“Bad dream.” She said instead, slowly, still hoping maybe that was enough to deflect suspicion and leave things happy everywhere outside of her own head. But Claire was by her side instantly, she hadn’t been fooled for a second.

“Of the bad place?” Claire asked, gently.

“No, but I know it was somewhere else that was real. It feels different, somehow, I can’t explain it.”

Claire wrapped her arms around Kaia, giving a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay, you’re back now.”

“I thought it was over,” Kaia mumbled, surprising herself with how easy it was to keep talking. Claire always seemed to know how to make her feel safe. “Just shows how little I know. Why me? Why there? Why now? These things, they just keep happening to me, and I’m powerless to do anything about it.”

“Well let’s figure it out then.”

Kaia shook her head, even as she had to smile a little at the sincerity. “From whom? I don’t think there’s many dreamwalkers left. And if they had all the answers, Jack would have gone to them instead.”

“Maybe you were just the closest. Or they’ve found ways of hiding their talents.”

She scoffed. “Talents. What Patience has is a talent. She can see the future, she can stop things from happening to the people she loves. All I see is distant worlds and people who I will never meet being torn apart by creatures beyond comprehension.”

Claire shook her head too, still not convinced. “Patience was scared too, in the beginning. She didn’t understand what she was seeing. I know it’s different, Kaia, but it took time to get to where she is now. She didn’t have anyone to mentor her either, not properly. And she’s still learning every day.”

“There’s been thousands of psychics throughout history, thousands of books written about them. What I... What I am hasn’t exactly been celebrated in the same way.”

“Sam and Dean have the biggest library of the supernatural in this country, maybe even the world. I’ll call them up tomorrow. I’m sure they have something about your ancestors, and how to track down anyone who is still alive today. And even if they don't, or its not helpful, or they say something you don't want to hear, we'll just have to make it up on our own.”

“That’s sweet of you, it really is. But at the end of the day...”

“What?” Claire pressed.

“I’m still in there alone,” she whispered.

“No, you’re not. I’ll find a way to go with you.”

Kaia laughed quietly, dismissively, but still Claire was not deterred.

“I mean it. Dream roots or something, Dean told me about them. You’re not alone anymore. I’ll beat up every single one of those monsters with my bare hands if I have to.”

She would, too. There was not a hint of sarcasm in Claire’s voice. In her mind, it was not an impossible battle, it was in fact one she was convinced the two of them could win. And somehow, just a little, Kaia started believing it too.

She turned to give Claire a hug of her own. “Thank you.” She murmured. Maybe things would turn out alright after all.

Written for Day 1 - Skills - of @spnwomenweek

#spnwomenweek #supernatural #dreamhunter #ficlet #any excuse to write about these two #i was totally planning on doing a whole series of these for the week but got a bit busy #(especially this last weekend)#so i might not finish the later ones #but lets see!#also i havent read this 1000x to criticise so scary scary imperfections hsjshdks

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castielific · 3 years ago

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The scars of our story

Genre: Dean/Castiel, domestic fluff with a hint of drama Rating: PG-13 Words: 1 478 Awesome Betas: @myblackeyedboy and @kindafanfic Summary:

"You never told me how you got those," Dean says, cheek resting on the back of Castiel's shoulder as he looks down at the scars between his omoplates. Their legs are still tangled together, their breath still a little short from what they just did, their skin sticky for more than one reason.

"Archery accident," Castiel answers, voice muffled by his pillow.

Dean laughs, lightly biting Cas' shoulder in reprimand. "You've never held a bow in your life."

Cas doesn't answer right away, he's fighting not to tense up as Dean touches the scars again. He can feel the ghost of his wings fluttering, trying to chase away the tingling fingers.

LINK TO THE STORY ON AO3

Or you can read the complete story under the cut

The sheet sticks to Castiel's sweaty back as he turns over and buries his face into his pillow. He shivers when the tip of a finger starts tracing the two lines on his back.

"Archery accident," Castiel answers, voice muffled by his pillow.

Dean laughs, lightly biting Cas' shoulder in reprimand. "You've never held a bow in your life."

Cas doesn't answer right away, he's fighting not to tense up as Dean touches the scars again. He can feel the ghost of his wings fluttering, trying to chase away the tingling fingers. There is nothing, of course. Not anymore. But he can still feel them sometimes. He still goes to sleep every night imagining that Dean is sheltered beneath his wings.

"I was attacked by an eagle," he says instead.

A tap on his naked ass makes him yelp in surprise and they both laugh. Cas turns around, to avoid the touch as much as to try and change the subject. He grabs the back of Dean's neck, clashing their lips together in a kiss that doesn't last as long as he would like. He still marvels at the fact that he can do that now, at the privilege it is to be able to caress and kiss Dean whenever he wants to. He does it a lot.

"You're a terrible liar," Dean teases, bumping their noses together, affectionately.

Cas can't quite look him in the eyes, so he grabs his chin and brings him in for another kiss. It's the best diversion he's found. Sex and affection always prevail over anything else for Dean.

For this Dean, anyway.

When their lips separate, their breaths are short again, Cas can feel Dean’s renewed interest grow against his hip.

The sun is streaming through the curtains, casting Dean's face in an orange glow and making him grimace. Cas traces the lines accentuating his cheeks and his eyes. Laugh lines now. They used to be lines of stress and anguish, but now they're just laugh lines. Traces of a life well lived.

That's what anyone but Cas would believe anyway, even Dean himself.

Only Cas knows the true origin of the white scar along Dean's forehead, or why his fingers are so crooked, why his joints ache so much when he's only forty. What truly happened to him during the first four decades of his life. It's part of the same story as the scars on his own back. Part of the story that he'll never be able to tell and sometimes wishes he would forget.

"My mysterious husband," Dean says, rolling his eyes despite the caress he drapes along Cas' cheeks.

"I was stabbed by an ex," Castiel says, deadpanned.

Dean frowns with worry for all of four seconds before he scoffs. "Liar," he accuses with a smile.

"I had very ugly moles," Cas tries with a disgusted grimace.

"Liar."

"I used to have my mother's name tattooed there."

Dean moans in frustration and lets himself fall back to his side of the bed, dramatically pushing Cas' face away with one hand. Cas chuckles, lightly biting the fingers on his face until Dean takes them away.

The other man is lying on his side now, scrutinizing him with his cheek on the pillow as Castiel sits up with his back against the headboard.

"You know, you're only making me more curious by avoiding the subject," Dean warns.

"I answered the question!" Cas teasingly protests.

"Somehow, you're the person I feel like I know the best, yet you're still a mystery to me sometimes."

"I could return the compliment."

"No," Dean says, more seriously, "No you can't. You know me. Sometimes it feels like you know me better than I know myself."

Cas takes a calming breath, trying to relax his muscles and keep his face blank.

"That breath. That's when I know you're lying," Dean says, sounding a little sad.

"I didn't say anything," Castiel says, his throat so tight that the words can barely get out.

Dean stares at him, searching his face for so long that Cas is afraid that he might detect the truth under the walls he's keeping. Sometimes he wishes Dean would see it, that Dean will remember. He wishes he could have his Dean back, the Dean he first fell in love with. He knows he can't, he knows it will never happen because Dean would die if he did. Both Deans.

Castiel was lucky enough that this new Dean fell in love with him.

This Dean is devoid of darkness and of violence. This Dean knows nothing of Heaven and Hell and the wars they've fought side by side. He doesn't know the loss, the pain and impossible choices they had to make through the years.

He's not his Dean, but that's okay, because when he's by his side, he's not the old Castiel either. Sometimes he can even forget about the nightmares they've lived through and just enjoy the love he never believed they could share.

Castiel still wonders sometimes. He wonders if the old Dean, his Dean, could have ever loved him the way that this Dean does. So freely and entirely, without angst and reservations, without the weight of death and betrayals that has always haunted their relationship. He'll never know now, but still he wonders.

Castiel blinks out of his thoughts when two fingers tap his forehead. "Here they are, the mysteries," Dean teases with a cheeky grin.

He's always grinning now. Even through the darkness, Dean has always had the ability to be excited by the most simple things. Now that the darkness is gone from his life and memories, his happiness is so infectious that it sometimes invades Castiel too, making him forget, if only for a few minutes. Seconds.

"It's no mystery that I love you."

"Is that what you were thinking about?" Dean asks, searching his eyes.

"Yes," Castiel swears. Honest, in his own way.

"Then why did you look so sad?"

Castiel can feel his own smile starting to crumble, but forces it right back up. He passes the pad of his thumb over Dean's lips until they start to turn up at the corner.

"Because I was thinking of the time before I knew you."

Dean throws his head back and gives a throaty laugh with his mouth opened, green eyes twinkling and dimples showing. "You are such a fucking sap!"

Cas can't resist the long throat exposed in front of him and latches his mouth to it, rolling until he's lying on top of the other man. His smile isn't forced when Dean's legs immediately part to leave him a place between them.

"Just a sap for now, but the rest can be arranged," Cas announces, wiggling his eyebrows at the same time as his hips, making his husband laugh again.

"And still awful at flirting," Dean notes.

Cas bites the other man's chin, before trailing kisses along his jaw and toward his ear. "Good thing there’s a thing or two I'm good at, or you would have never married me."

"Yeah. Good thing you're still the best person I've ever met," Dean breathes when Cas sucks on his earlobe.

It stops Cas for a second, makes him close his eyes and takes a deep breath that can't quite pass the ball of lies that is stuck in his throat. Two years now, and he still chokes on them sometimes. Still spend sleepless nights thinking of all that he's lost.

Conflicting images flash behind his eyelids. A first meeting in a barn with literal sparks flying and as much fright as wonder in Dean's eyes. Another one in the garage Dean is now working at. Castiel only went there because he was missing him, never believing he would get to have more than a few minutes with Dean, thinking it would be their last. It ended up being a new beginning for them.

Cas is not sure which one he prefers, which story is the most beautiful. He wishes he didn't have to choose.

Dean's arms come around his shoulders, squeeze until he's as close as he possibly can be, until Castiel feels like he can breathe again. There are lies but no regrets. He loves this Dean as much as he loves old Dean. They are one and the same in all the ways that matter.

Dean's happiness is all he's ever wanted, has been the sole purpose of his life and sacrifices for more than a decade. Still is. Always will be.

"Who's the sap now?"

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/cas #dean/castiel #deancastiel #deancas fic #ao3 fic #spn fic #supernatural fic #destiel story #destiel tumblr fic #hellers #castielific #castielific fic #my fics #drabble

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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 4 years ago

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Why I think an “I love you too” was never in the cards—and why Covid was a convenient excuse for the “traditional” ending the network always wanted for Supernatural:

I will preface this by saying that I don’t know anything for sure—but going off of what the cast and crew have said both prior to Covid and the finale, as well as during and after, I believe that the network and the show runners were always planning on taking the easy way out, and this worldwide pandemic just made it all the easier.

So—for the “I love you too, Cas” that we were all hoping for … the reason I think it was never going to be the endgame is for a few reasons: mostly due to what both Misha and Jensen have said over this past year. Misha said recently in a Q&A that he was concerned about how Jensen might react to the whole “confession” scene we saw in 15x18. Also, he said that he knew about that scene long before Jensen did; however, Jensen has said he’s known about the idea for the final episode for months and months before filming for season 15 even began—which means, the two things probably didn’t coincide. If the confession actually connected to the finale in some way (and let’s face it, if Dean said “I love you too” that’s all anyone would be talking about), then Jensen would’ve known about it probably before Misha did, so Misha wouldn’t need to feel nervous over how Jensen might react.

We all thought that when Jensen said he wasn’t happy with the idea for the ending—it might have something to do with Destiel; but given how it all played out and what both actors have said since the confession scene aired and all the buzz surrounding it, obviously that isn’t the case. They have both said more about the confession and have been more positive about that than anything to do with the finale.So, what was Jensen actually upset about? Well, I think that has changed over time and has gotten worse thanks to Covid.

Jensen has been recorded saying he’s wanted a “Blaze of Glory” ending for the boys for years. Hell, they even had Dean say it in the show when the boys were trapped inside the bunker (season 10? 11?). He always imagined a tragic, action packed ending—where both Sam and Dean go down swinging; so the idea of them making it to some big, happy reunion in heaven probably didn’t sit well with him, because it softened that tragedy. Misha seemed to have similar hopes for his character—although, Cas got much closer to that beautifully tragic and heroic ending than Dean did; and Misha was happy for that at least. He’s happy that Castiel got to go out doing something good based in love and sacrifice, rather than some clumsy ending that didn’t do his complex character justice; and his thoughts on this haven’t changed over time, unlike Jensen’s. Both before, as well as after Covid, Misha has said basically the same thing in regards to the show’s planned-ending for Castiel: “That’s how I always saw his character arc ending”. So, again—I don’t think some momentous reunion in heaven was originally scripted or else Misha would’ve spoken about the end to Castiel’s story a little differently. I think he would’ve been even more excited and pleasantly surprised about what his and Dean’s on-screen connection would actually mean for the fans and the LGBT+ community; and he probably would’ve hinted to that in the months prior to the finale being aired. He wouldn’t have spoken of “sacrifice” ... he would’ve spoken of “hope”.

But the original idea for the finale that Misha hinted to in this most recent Q&A seemed to be very much the same as what we saw … only, all our favorites would’ve actually made an appearance in heaven instead of just having their names dropped (if they even got that much). I still think they were going to kill Dean in that horribly dumb way. I still think they were going to have Sam live out his life in a crappy montage without his brother by his side, and I still think that heaven would be where the story finally faded to black—the only difference Covid made was that more familiar faces weren’t on the screen.

That being said—even if Covid hadn’t been a thing, I doubt Dean and Cas’s reunion in heaven would’ve been anything more than just a bro-hug outside the Roadhouse. That’s all Becky’s Funko dolls foreshadowed, and her fears regarding Chuck’s ending were the closest to the truth; because if Dean and Cas were meant to have this big moment of love and rainbows … if the network was actually going to be that bold and take that leap, they would’ve still done it. Misha is one guy, and getting Covid-clearance for one more person wouldn’t have brought production to some screeching halt. The show runners would’ve made it happen if they actually possessed the balls to try it; but they don’t, so it was never their plan to have Dean say it back. Also, the network apparently went to the trouble of holding some focus-groups regarding Destiel and potential ideas for ending the series, which means they put a lot of thought into what would be most profitable; and even though you and I would have lost our collective minds if Dean reciprocated Cas’s love, it could alienate the show’s market in certain parts of the country and the world, and this show has made them a lot of money over time, and will probably continue to do so if they just played it safe; so, that’s what they did. They played it safe so they could re-run it for years to come, and never have to actually own up to anything they implied or even flat-out said over the years.

To support this—in that pre-show send off featuring all the cast and crew, Misha talked about how we were in charge of our own endings. That was filmed before Covid. That was filmed before whatever plans that were made for the show, had to be adjusted. He knew that many of us would be disappointed that they took Cas’s character so close to that massive edge that would’ve made history in the TV industry, and then backed off of it right at the last second. He knew that nothing was going to come of it, so he told us that we could make it better, and we should—and he would support us with the better-endings we imagined, because he agrees with us more than the show he’s given his last twelve years to.

Finally, there’s Jensen. Like I said before—I think Jensen expected something more tragic with the finale, like Kripke had envisioned from the start, but when a happy-heaven ending was proposed, he needed some time to digest it. I do think he did digest it though. I think he realized that the fans would need to see the boys happy and in heaven with all the ones they loved, because so many of us identify with those characters. I think that he began to understand that, and he even began to get excited about it … but then Covid happened, and suddenly, that ending began to change. Jensen saw that slowly but surely, the finale was shifting into something no one would be happy about. It was some blurry-medium (like Sam’s wife) between what was originally planned, and what the production team could actually get away with. His support seemed to dwindle before our eyes. He went from “Yeah—I learned to be excited about it” to “I get it” to almost a dead-silence over the entire thing. That ending that “didn’t sit right with him” wasn’t justifiable anymore if all the people that fans have loved for years, couldn’t be there … and Jensen knew that, so doing that weird half-ass ending where they basically erased all those supporting characters, felt very wrong, so Jensen got very quiet about it. Even when the finale aired, he was pretty damn quiet.

He just “put his head down and did the work.”

And that is so horribly tragic to me.

I think though, that this crappy ending is what the network really wanted anyway. They wanted it to just be the boys. They didn’t want to have to field all the potentially “gay” things from the chemistry between Cas and Dean. They figured the confession was enough to placate us, and then when Covid happened, they realized they lucked out even more and could just leave it there. Hell, they didn’t even need to have Misha on set anymore because – if they weren’t going to address the confession anyway, why bother? They could just say “It started with just the brothers, so that’s how it’s ending” and blame Covid when anyone tried to question it. It all worked out in a way that allowed them to just sit back and wash their hands of all of it, wash their hands of us.

Wash their hands of the actors and cut the ties they said that they valued.

I think they were willing to hurt just about everyone to reach their bottom-line, and hiding behind a worldwide pandemic was an extremely convenient circumstance that allowed them to get away with it basically unscathed.

#15x20 #supernatual #jensen ackles #misha collins #season 15 #covid #spn family #essay #thoughts #I don't know anything for sure obviously #but this all seems to convenient #and Jensen and Misha seem so hurt by all of it #I hate it

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

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For @theangelwiththewormstache, I kind of went all out and searched through your blog to see what you like and headcanon, sent a few sneaky asks to find out more, and wrote in all the things I wanted for everyone’s happy ending. it got... unbelievably long.

Merry Christmas and enjoy :)

Love, Cas over at @let-me-live-in-peace and @samwinchestersleftshoe

PS: thanks to @destielsecretsanta2020 for organizing this!

Click.

Dean sighed and nodded, pulling the phone away from his ear so he could stare at it expectantly. Right about…

It rang.

“Cas,” Dean said languidly, like an asshole who didn’t know why his boyfriend was calling him back.

“Sorry. I forgot again.”

“I know.” Dean couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice if he tried. And he tried.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Dean.” A hint of well-earned annoyance.

“I love you too, Cas.”

“Bye.” And another click. Dean grinned and pocketed his phone. The dumbass was still too impatient to wait for an answering goodbye. Guess they’d never be the couple to argue about who should hang up first. Then again, Dean kinda liked it this way. It was just a few more seconds of teasing and a special call to say I love you, that was kind of nice, right? Jesus he was a sap.

“Earth to Dean? Wanna stop daydreaming about your boyfriend for a sec and get back on task?” Claire was standing there waving a hand in his face, bitchface firmly planted. Dean gave her one back.

“Don’t be homophobic.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gay.”

“Yeah.” Dean kept walking, looking around at the rows on rows of Christmas trees. He stole a glance back at her. “Where is Kaia anyway?”

Claire blushed and crossed her arms over her chest. She would never tell him, but Kaia had hung back to give her some alone time with Dean. “She wanted to hang out with Jack. Guess she didn’t want to stare at your ugly mug all day.” A grin then, as Dean laughed at her joke.

“Fine, fine, guess you’re stuck with me.”

They roamed around a bit, both insisting on cutting down their tree themselves, Claire winning the fight to get to carry the ax. (Yes, Sam had suggested they bring a chainsaw. They had both refused because they needed to “earn the Christmas tree.”)

“Cas wanted a fraser fir.” Dean remembered, pointing to the section marked for them.

He felt, rather than saw, Claire roll her eyes, which, that’s exactly what Dean had done when Cas first told him. “Dork. Do you always do what your boyfriend tells you?”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much. You?”

“Yeah.” They shared a soft smile before going back to their regular shit-talking. It was just The Dynamic. They searched a little bit more before they found one, the perfect tree that was big enough to make them both giggle over what Sam’s reaction would be when they brought it home.

It… takes longer to cut down a tree than you would think. Than either of them thought. Especially when you bring an ax and especially when you choose an obnoxiously large tree. They took a break about halfway through, sitting down in the snow and passing the thermos of hot chocolate Jack made them take back and forth (Claire spiked it with Bailey’s, which Dean chose not to comment on but was grateful for).

“Hey Claire… is it weird? Seeing me and Cas,”

Claire looked at him warily, seeming to consider what possible ulterior motives he had. Then, figuring she was the one with the ax, she answered. “A little. But I never saw my dad this old. Or this gay.” She gave him a grin and Dean flipped her off, taking the ax out of her hands to get back to the tree. “It’s good.”

Dean paused. “What is?”

“You and him. You’re good for each other, you can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

Dean’s lips curled up. “Sounds like something Cas would say.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the dork is right. Don’t be an idiot.” She shook her head at him. “Jody had to remind me all the time at first.”

“What?”

“That I… y’know. Deserve it. Her. To be happy.” She put the last bit in quotes, saying it sarcastically, but Dean could see the truth of it in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, Jody’s smart like that.” He took another swing at the ax and tried to believe it for himself. It got easier every day.

------

Cas was left at home with Kaia and Jack while Dean and Claire got the tree and Sam and Eileen got food supplies. (Dean had protested, but Sam had -correctly- said that if given free rein, he wouldn’t get any vegetarian options and would get 10x more junk than they needed.) Jody, Donna, Alex, Bobby, Charlie, and the rest wouldn’t be here until the next afternoon. Christmas afternoon.

“So what should we do first?” He was a little bit nervous, being once again put in charge of the kids.

“Paper snowflakes?” Jack suggested, his excitement all too obvious from the smile on his face. Kaia glanced at him, amused by his obvious enthusiasm. Claire had braided his hair before she left while Kaia painted his nails (black, because they don’t own any other color of nail polish). It was clear they were pretty bonded.

“Sounds good to me.”

Kaia had to teach both of them how to make paper snowflakes. Cas tried to make perfectly symmetrical snowflakes; Jack kept cutting his in half on accident which made a bunch of smaller snowflakes. Hey, it worked.

“So… what’s the deal with you and Dean?”

“Deal?” Cas flushed a little. Everytime someone asked it thrilled him all over again. He was dating Dean. Dean. Was his. Had told him so, straight to his face. And he got to kiss Dean whenever, and sleep with him, and make him make noises only he got to hear, and listen to all his worries and weird fears and recaps on the latest episodes of Dr. Sexy.

“Cas?” Jack was knocking on the table lightly. Kaia had two raised eyebrows and a little smile.

“That good, huh?” She could relate. Everytime she thought about Claire she felt all warm inside, and going home to her at the end of the day was like a dream, especially after being apart for so long.

Cas looked down, called out. “That good.” he agreed.

“How disgusting are they, Jack, on a scale of cute to rip your own face off cute?” Kaia leaned over the table now, shit-eating grin plastered firmly on her face. Jack looked delighted to be in on the joke, which made Cas happy in spite of himself. Jack really needed this time with kids his own age. (Well, kind of. He was technically three.)

“Well, they do cook together…”

“Do they do that thing where one of them comes up from behind and puts their head on the other’s shoulder?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Dean or Cas?”

“Cas watches. He can’t cook.”

“Hey!” It was true. Cas was just arguing for the principle of it.

“But the movie nights are the cutest. One of them always falls asleep on top of the other one.”

“Probably at like 10 o’clock. You guys are so old.” Kaia teased, shifting her attention back to Cas.

Cas shook his head and pointed his finger at the two of them. “I never should have had children.” Kaia stuck her tongue out and Jack followed suit. Proving his point. Kids.

---------

“Hey, you dorks just gonna let us do all the work, huh?” Dean shouted from the garage.

“Yeah motherfuckers, get in here!”

Cas let out a half-hearted “Language!” before following Kaia and Jack through the halls. Claire pulled Jack into a side hug first before tugging Kaia in for a kiss. Dean would’ve followed suit, except Claire had actually left him to carry the whole fucking tree himself, which Dean, like an idiot, had actually attempted. Cas hurried over to help him, which earned him a glare lined with gratefulness.

“Oh yeah, have a happy little reunion over there, don’t mind me or this giant tree!” Dean griped at the kids. “Let the old men handle it!”

“Hey, you said it first.” Claire raised an eyebrow at Dean and pulled Kaia and Jack off into the bunker, probably to go find Miracle. Dean sighed heavily, muttering under his breath.

“You brought that on yourself.” Cas informed him, grunting under the effort of holding up half the tree.

“Thank you, babe. Very helpful.” Dean rolled his eyes. Cas pretended he didn’t feel a jolt of happiness at the most sarcastic ‘babe’ he’d ever heard.

-----

They managed to haul the giant-ass tree into the library and set it up, barely. It did almost crush Cas, but Dean tugged it upright at the last moment, prompting a joke about Cas dying again. (“Hey, you’re not allowed to make those anymore, you’re human now, dick.”) And a kiss that all the kids whooped and hollered at.

Then Cas showed Dean and Claire around the decorations they’d made while they were out. The greatest hits included paper snowflakes, ornaments, and a Christmas tree on the wall made out of old license plates. Dean clapped Jack on the shoulder to congratulate him on his crafts while Kaia held Claire’s hand and pretended not to be affected by the praise sent her way.

By the time Sam and Eileen got back, they’d decorated the tree, all the chairs in the bunker, and the stair-rail with lights and tinsel. Sam let out a whistle when he came back in, which brought Miracle, Jack, and Cas to greet them. (Claire and Kaia were busy telling Dean all about their local gay bar. Which, considering they lived in South Dakota, was quite the story.)

Dean’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw his brother and Eileen come in the kitchen with their bags. “Okay Dean, before you ask, we went with apple, pecan, pumpkin, and cherry.” Sam looked at Dean warily, who stared back at him over the girls’ heads with narrowed eyes, deciding whether or not to fight. The amount of pie ingredients he’d put on the list had been truly outrageous.

“Would like to remind you that the kids are making cookies and cheesecake too.” Eileen reminded him. Dean continued to look around suspiciously until Cas sat down on his lap.

That’s great, Eileen. Cas signed to her. He will be fine.

Eileen rolled her eyes. Whiner. Sam let out a snort and Cas grinned at her. Dean glared.

“What’re you saying?”

“Learn to sign better and you’d know.” Sam smirked.

“I’m working on it!” Dean protested and wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist, tugging him in possessively. He was going to try to sign something else but settled for a middle finger pointed straight at his brother. Hey, it was sign language.

Cas leaned back and kissed him on the cheek for his efforts. His memory landed on one particularly frustrating night for Dean when they’d been practicing his ASL (Cas knew every language of course) and Dean just couldn’t remember the most basic of things. Lamp, field, tree. The more frustrated he got, the more words started to leave him. He’d started swearing under his breath and stomped out to the porch to cool off, followed by Cas a few minutes later. Cas still remembered the drained look in his eyes as he looked at Cas.

“I feel like such a fucking dumbass, Cas. I know it’s not that hard, it shouldn’t be that hard, Sam makes it seem so easy…”

“Dean, you are learning. It’s okay if it takes you a little time. Sam has experience with ASL, doesn’t he?”

Dean had sighed and conceded this. “Yeah, he took some in college I think. I just… I never took any language, you know? Didn’t seem as important as woodshop or sex ed.” He grinned half-heartedly at his own joke.

Cas smiled back and pointed at him, signing o and k. You’re okay.

He repeated the signs, nodding. I’m okay.

I love you.

I love you too.

-----

After the pies were made and chicken noodle soup in the crock pot, Cas and Dean relinquished the kitchen to the kids and retired to the Dean cave. Sam and Eileen were cooped up in their room until they were allowed back into the living quarters by the kids. They didn’t want their creations critiqued or tasted before they were ready.

Cas waited patiently while Dean typed away on his phone, eyes narrowed to see the text. He refused to get reading glasses or enlarge the print on his phone, even though he sorely needed it. Cas kept his complaining about it to a minimum though because he liked the wrinkles around Dean’s eyes when he squinted. It reminded him that he got to grow old with Dean.

Dean looked up finally to see the fond look on his lover’s face and blushed, guilty. “Sorry, just checking with Kara.”

Cas nodded understandingly. As always. “The bar will survive without us for a few days.”

“I know.” Dean looked down, a little pleased he could admit it. “I just miss it.” Wow, to have a life he could miss, and to miss it from a peaceful holiday vacation surrounded by his family. It was… surreal.

“What do you want to watch?”

Dean sank back into the cushions, thinking. “Die Hard?”

Cas smiled at him. “Is that what you want to watch?”

Dean rolled his eyes and flipped around so he could lay his head in Cas’s lap. “No.” He admitted it grudgingly. Cas could read him like a book. It was inconvenient sometimes and other times, like now, it was nice. “Just seems like the thing to watch. Y’know, Christmas Eve.”

Cas shrugged. He put a hand in Dean’s hair, just like he liked it. Dean closed his eyes almost at his touch; he’d gotten much more comfortable letting his guard down like that lately. It had taken a while though, months of Dean staying rigid in his arms before he could relax quicker. “There are other things to watch.”

Dean reached a hand up and cupped Cas’s jaw with his hand. “Whaddyou wanna watch, sweetheart?”

Cas couldn’t help but turn his head to kiss Dean’s hand. Dean only called him sweetheart when he was feeling particularly tender, usually a few whiskeys in. This time he happened to be both. Cas loved it. “What about a double feature?”

“Hm,” Dean scrubbed his hand along Cas’s stubble and thought. Cas’s stubble was one his favorite physical things about him; sometimes Cas accused him of petting him like a cat. “What ones?”

“First… It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Dean cracked a grin and opened his eyes. “Clarence?”

Cas blushed. “I miss her sometimes.”

“Should I be worried?”

Cas tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Considering she’s a demon? Probably.” Meg was banished to hell with the rest of the demons that had gotten out of the Empty, but given their old friendship with the Queen of Hell, that didn’t mean much for them.

“Psh, demon-shmemon. Been there, done that.” Dean pulled Cas down into a kiss, making him bend over into an awkward position that made Cas giggle. “Being a human is much sexier.”

“I agree.”

Dean waggled his eyebrows at him suggestively. “Wanna make it a triple feature? Little hanky panky for intermission?” Cas rolled his eyes, which Dean interpreted as a solid yes. “What is our second movie, anyway?”

“Huh.” Cas booped Dean on the nose. “Love Actually.”

A slow, dopey smile spread over Dean’s face. “Okay.” He paused, thinking about it. He’d pushed Cas into watching it years ago, when they were still just friends, by ‘accidentally’ adding it to his Netflix Queue and then letting Cas loose for movie night. He’d watched Cas for his reactions the whole time (and only gotten distracted by looking At Cas a few times). It had been a couple months ago when he told Cas about that. “Second favorite thing about being queer is being able to watch sappy shit like that.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You were able to before, Dean.”

Dean ignored him. “Ask me what my favorite thing is,”

“What’s your favorite thing?”

“This.” He burrowed into Cas’s lap. A sap and a flirt.

“I thought you were gonna say Taylor Swift.” A dry witted old queen.

Dean snorted into his stomach. “That’s my third favorite.”

----

“Alright, gang, what do we say? Same place tomorrow morning, let’s say… 5?” He spun around to look at everyone, a wide smile on his face. Everyone seemed less enthused than him, although Sam seemed to think his situation was amusing.

“Dude, I’m not twelve, I’m not waking up at 5 am to open a few presents.”

“Like hell you aren’t!” Dean was smiling but it was less of a happy smile and more of a disbelieving one. Cas squeezed his arm then, stopped him from continuing his argument. Dean glanced at him and he just stared and gave him another squeeze.

Dean knew what that look meant. It meant ‘Dean, you’re overreacting again, calm down and think about it’ and also ‘stop being such an asshole’ and probably also ‘wow you’re eyes are really pretty’ knowing Cas.

He took a deep breath and pecked Cas on the lips. “Alright, princess, what time are you willing to drag your lazy ass out of bed?”

Claire smirked and sent a look at Kaia before leveling back at Dean. “Eleven.”

“Eight.”

“Ten. Final offer.”

Dean considered a moment then extended a hand. And shook. “You have yourself a deal.”

----

After they went to bed, they talked about it. These days, they always talked about it. It was one of the things Cas had brought home from his shrink appointments, and, as much as Dean hated to admit it, it worked. Helped.

Cas changed into pajamas and stretched, sending a look back at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and started before Cas could prod him to. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “You hate the morning.”

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head, then pulled down his pants, because you should never have a conversation with your boyfriend with pants when you could have one without pants. These things he was learning. “Yeah, I do, it’s just… it’s Christmas.”

“Yes, it is. Isn’t it supposed to be a day of relaxation and fun?”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be exciting! Kids jumping on their parents bed at the asscrack of dawn to go to the tree, that kinda shit!” He shrugged, getting stupid worked up over it, he knew. He knew. Cas pulled him in by the hand and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Come on, tell me how I’m being an asshole.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “What part of ‘you do everything for love’ do you not understand?”

“How is me freaking out over Christmas morning ‘for love’?”

Cas didn’t flinch away from the self-deprecation. “You want them to have the Christmas you never got.”

Dean sank his head onto Cas’s shoulder, thinking about it. He was right, of course he was, he’s always right. Cas can read him like a book, even when Dean himself didn’t know what he was doing. “I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s admirable. But the Christmas they deserve, same as you did, is the one they want. Which might not be the one you wanted.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” he sighed heavily. More than he wanted his kids to have a motherfucking Christmas-card Christmas, he just didn’t want to be the ruin of it. Didn’t want to be John. “Sorry you have to shrink my head all the time.” Dean muttered softly. Cas pulled him away and kissed him, slow and soft.

“You pay me back tenfold.”

“You’ve got a shrink.”

“I meant with sex.” Cas met his eyes, face stoic as always. He would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for the glint in his eyes. It gave him away.

Dean threw back his head and laughed.

“Motherfucker.”

“I don’t have a mother.”

Dean shook his head, grin splitting open his face. Cas himself was trying to hold it together; he kept having to push down the corners of his mouth so he wouldn't break. Dean crowded closer, determined to ruin that composure. He walked his face right into Cas’s, only reaching for his lips once they were already bumping together. Then he fell into it, pulled Cas toward him to get more, settled into the easy mesh of their bodies until Cas ended up knocking his knee against the bedframe with a loud thump.

They dissolved into a pile of breathy giggles, too giddy and soft to work up the energy to get frisky. Dean just shrugged off his shirt and pulled Cas closer to him. “You know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Dean told him seriously. He didn’t know where it came from; it was way too mushy to even possibly be from his mind. Maybe it was something about the holiday, and the family, and the safety that all of it brought.

“And so are you.” Cas replied simply, eyes glinting.

“Even though I’m an asshole sometimes?” He had to ruin it. Had to put in that little bit of doubt, of insecurity. But it wouldn’t be truthful if he just swallowed it, so he let it be said.

Cas kissed his nose, which made Dean feel like a child but also like something so special and precious he didn’t complain. “Even though you’re an asshole sometimes.”

Dean snorted out a laugh and chased Cas’s lips, nipping at him in offense. He sank onto the pillow and stared at Cas where he sat up. Cas just looked down at him, adopting that alien-like quality he could still summon. “Marry me.”

“What?”

Dean smiled fondly at him, for once not at all concerned. “I dunno, dunnit ‘boyfriends’ sound way too young to you? I mean you’re practically 5 million years old, you can’t have a boyfriend.”

Cas pursed his lips, seemingly deciding between protesting his age or agreeing to his proposal. He laid next to Dean during his decision, letting Dean watch him consider. “Suppose you’re right.” He shrugged, offering up a tiny grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“No, you’re supposed to say ‘Yes, yes, a thousand times yes’ and then burst into tears.”

“Dean.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, that’s just how humans do it!”

“Okay, I take it back.”

Dean laughed and pulled him into a giddy kiss. “I love you.”

“I hope so, you’re marrying me.” Cas couldn’t contain his smile anymore; he stopped trying and just stared at Dean with the kind of wonder that used to make Dean feel uncomfortable. Now, it just made him feel lucky. “I love you too.”

---

A phone rang, a bizarre ringtone Dean didn’t recognize. Sam jumped up and ran off to the map room, apologizing quickly. “What the hell, man!” Dean yelled after him and sent a look at Eileen.

Hunter call, probably. She signed. Sure enough, Sam was in the other room picking up a landline with an annoyed tone.

He listened for a few minutes, asking follow-up questions before Dean heard him say, “Rugaru, yeah, that’s what it sounds like. Yeah, you gotta burn ‘em. Nasty, sorry. Yeah, no problem. Good luck.” He hung up and headed back into the room, signing and talking. “Sorry, hunting doesn’t care about holidays.”

“So glad we’re not doing that anymore.” Dean sighed happily, wrapping an arm around Cas. Sam smiled at him and nodded.

“Me too. I had to burn those clothes after the Rugaru thing.” He shuddered, the memory of the stench enough to make him happy for an empty stomach.

Eileen shrugged. Never had to deal with one of those.

“Lucky.” Dean promised her. Cas nudged him, nodding toward Jack. He was shaking a wrapped box with his name on it, a look of deep concentration on his face.

“Whaddya think it is, kid?”

Jack shook his head. “No idea. Can I open it?”

“Go for it.”Jack tore into it, no regard for the painted newspaper (yes, it was recycled, Cas and Sam both agreed) as he got to the box underneath. “Open the card first, heathen!” Dean joked, pointing out the card tucked onto the bottom of the thing. Jack scowled but complied, opening the card to find a nice note from him and Cas and a key taped in.

“What’s it for?”

Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees, excited about this part. He had been the one who came up with it, after all. “Our place. We wanted to make it official, since you been, you know, visiting around a lot lately.” Dean turned a little pink in the cheeks. Jack had indeed been drifting between Sam and Eileen’s, Jody’s, his and Cas’s, Donna’s, and Claire and Kaia’s. But he always spent the most time at his and Cas’s house, trying to copy Dean and always ending up enjoying Cas’s hobbies more. Sam had told him a while back that Jack confided he wasn’t sure he was welcome there, not for the long term. So Dean wanted to let him know he was welcome. Except now, looking at the uncertainty on Jack’s face, he wasn’t so sure that’s what the kid wanted. “Uh, you know, you can just spend however much you want with us, but… you know.” He poked Cas desperately in the side, trying to get him to save the sentence.

“We’d like you to have a ‘home base’ with us, Jack. However often you are willing to stay.” Cas said simply. He squeezed Dean’s knee to reassure him.

Jack looked up at them with a stunned expression. “Does this mean I can take out the trash? And do the dishes?” He looked thrilled at the idea.

Dean chuckled. “We never would’ve stopped you before, kid. But yeah, sure.”

Sam cleared his throat, offering a smile to Jack. “That better not mean you stop coming around here though, Jack.” When Dean had called and told him his idea for the present, he’d almost teared up. His brother had come a long way with Jack. Still, he wanted to reassure his kid that he always had a home with him and Eileen too, no matter how busy he was. (And nowadays, between online classes, cataloguing lore onto an online database, and being the New Bobby, he was really busy.)

Jack jumped up, clearly about to go for a round of hugs, but Dean waved him off. “Keep going, you haven’t even gotten through one present yet.”

Jack grinned and complied, taking a bit more time with the box. He pulled out a Scooby Doo phone case, marked for Extra Protection, with Scooby and Shaggy on the back.

“That one was my idea.” Cas told him proudly.

“I helped.” Dean piped up.

“You did not.”

“I helped you pick which case!”

“You wanted to get one with Fred and Daphne.”

“Well, yeah-”

“Not everyone has a crush on them like you do, Dean.”

Dean flushed scarlet and went silent, pouting. Jack ignored their bickering and beamed up at Castiel. “I love it, dad. Thank you.”

Cas looked like he could’ve gone for round 4 with the Empty with how happy he was, but he just nodded. “Of course.”

The rest of the gifts went by with lots of shouting, laughing, smiling, and hugging. And a few tears all around. Dean got Claire a flamethrower without consulting anyone, and Cas got Kaia a rose and lavender scented pillow fragrance (“It helps ensure good dreams.”), which prompted a comment from Claire (“How’d he know you’re a pillow princess?”) that everyone pretended not to hear. Dean got Eileen a Woojer, a wearable speaker that lets you feel music’s vibrations in your body (“Because no one should have to live without Zepp available to them 24/7. Also, now you can cry with me when the sad music cues come on Dr. Sexy,” - one of their favorite activities together).

Dean jerked a head at Sam to get him out of the room, so Sam snatched his gift while Dean detached himself from Cas. They went to the kitchen, sending a couple soft looks back at their family gathered around the tree with all their new possessions. It was nice, and they both felt it.

“So, uh, Sammy, I been thinking a lot about what to get you for Christmas and everything. I didn’t want to go with the classic-”

“Skin mag and candy bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, damn, now I feel bad.” Sam mimed hiding his present (obviously bigger than a skin mag) behind his back, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I finally got money, you know? Not a lot of it, but… I got a house and fucking, Cas, and… anyway. We’re finally doing Christmas and I wanted to do it right. And I want you to be as off-the-wall happy as I am, dude.”

Sam smiled widely, not even able to come up with a little-brother bitchy comment to that. “Thanks, Dean, that means a lot.”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, so, I, um, I wanna pay for your school.” Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean held up a hand. “No, listen, I know you’ve been stressed about it, and I know you’ve been working really hard on the hunting catalogue stuff. That shit’s important. And I can pay for some crappy internet school classes. No offense.”

Sam laughed and pulled his brother into a hug. “Thank you, man.” He said, muffled into Dean’s shoulder. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Dean patted Sam on the back, expecting Sam to pull away, but he didn’t. “Uh, Sammy.” Sam ignored him. “Sam. Dude, get off me. I want my present.”

Sam snorted and finally pulled away. Dean tactfully ignored the wetness of his eyes in favor of snatching the gift from Sam’s hands. He tore it open with all the grace of a rabid dog, unveiling a thick, leather bound scrapbook. “A scrapbook? Really?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “That’s gay, even for you.”

Sam pulled a bitchface. “Who sucks their boyfriend’s dick every chance he gets?”

Dean flipped him off. No need to argue, Sam would see right through him. It was true though. Not that he would know. Dean flipped open the cover and grinned immediately. It was Sam and Dean as kids, in a mall photo booth, being dumbasses with their tongues stuck out and their faces all crazy. Dean mooned the camera in one, and you could see the psychological scarring on Sam’s face in the next picture. A little note slapped on the page next to it said “I have more nightmares about this than about hell”. Dean laughed, glancing up at Sam before he continued. Sam’s eyes were hopeful with a glint of mischief. That was never good.

Dean flipped through the next pages. It showed them through the years, all with little notes of Sam’s internal monologue. “Grumpy because he hasn’t gotten his coffee this morning” “That’s for the itching powder incident, asshole” and more and more. There were even some pictures in there of just him that Sam had obviously taken without Dean’s knowledge, pictures of him sleeping with comments about his snoring, pictures of him singing obnoxiously in the car with jokes about ear damage. Pictures of him and Bobby shooting the shit with notes about the pair of “old men.”

Then the pictures started to change. There started to be pictures of him and Cas. Mostly just him and Cas. Standing, talking, watching TV together (this one says “angel’s first porno!” with a bunch of hearts next to it). Comments talking about personal space (“he never stands that close to ME”) and the like. One of Dean in Bobby’s panic room where Dean has a speech bubble drawn on his serious face that says “Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid” and then just a selfie of Sam pulling his bitchiest bitch face.

Dean turned a little red at that, recognizing his complete obliviousness at the time, and kept going. The pictures continue, lots of fun-loving pictures of them on the road and the occasional movie or bar night, Charlie and Kevin and even Crowley and Rowena. But without fail, there is picture after picture of him and Cas sharing a publicly private moment, all with little snippy comments from his little brother. More than three of those comments are “Just kiss already!!!” Dean finally looks up to see Sam crossing his arms and staring at him with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

“When the hell did you make this?” Dean sputtered. These are a lot of pictures, Sam must’ve kept them on his crappy cell phones for years.

Sam blinked. “I started it in 2006.”

“No, I mean, when did you go back and add all these bitchy little comments?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “2006.”

Dean blinked right back. “But you… you’ve got all these dumbass comments about me and Cas.”

His smartass little brother started to smile then, a big shit-eating grin he wanted to smack off his dumb face. “Yeah, man, you weren’t exactly smooth about it.”

“Hey, fuck you, what does that mean?” It was said in jest, but Dean’s volume control went out the window.

“Dean? Sam? Everything okay?” Cas’s voice reached them from the other room. Dean sent an offended glance back at Sam before answering.

“Yeah babe, I’m just finding out how much I wanna punch my brother in here,”

“Okay, well, leave it till tomorrow, it’s Christmas.”

“Nah, isn’t fighting with your family a holiday tradition?”

“I think you’re right. Okay, continue.”

Now Sam was just watching him with such a knowing expression it made him annoyed. He was watching him flirt with his boyfriend- no, technically, husband. Oh yeah. He lowered his voice back down to a reasonable volume to talk to just his brother again.

“Yeah, so, I should also tell you-” He closed the book and set it on the counter. “We uh… Cas and I, we’re gonna get married.” He looked down at his feet and blushed a bit, could feel the rising heat in his cheeks. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he was saying that. He was getting married. To Cas. “Obviously, you know, we can’t really, with one of us being a legally dead terrorist and the other a former angel in the body of a missing family man,” Dean and Sam both laughed at that. “But I asked him and he said yes.”

“You asked him?” Sam seemed more surprised by that than the actual news. Dean shrugged and nodded. “Wow. Congrats, Dean, really.” Sam pulled him in for another hug, which Dean happily returned. “Can I walk you down the aisle?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “If anyone’s getting walked down the aisle, it’s Cas. He might get distracted by a butterfly halfway down, he’ll need the guide.”

Sam grinned. “Come on, it’s not like you weren’t always gonna give me away.”

Dean frowned at him. “Me? Why?”

“Dean, you’re the closest thing to a parent I ever had.” Sam says it like it’s obvious, like he isn’t forgetting about-

“You had Dad.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, making his big brother look him in the eyes as he repeated it. “You’re the closest thing to a parent I ever had.”

Dean wasn’t gonna get choked up. No, he wasn’t, damn it. He’d made it this far in the visit without getting choked up, he could-

“Sam?”

Eileen appeared around the corner, making them both realize how long they’d been away from the rest. Sam looked at her apologetically, signing Sorry. Dean was just telling me he and Cas are getting married!

Eileen turned to Dean, barely giving Dean time to process a quick congratulations sign before she enveloped him in a hug. Dean laughed and hugged her back, pulling away to sign thank you. At least he knew how to do that.

Big church wedding? Eileen teased.

“Only if Cas wears a poofy dress,” Dean joked back. He only knew the signs for Cas and dress, but between that and lip-reading, Eileen got it. She shook her head with a grin and grabbed Sam’s hand. They all went back into the living room and to the rest for another round of hot chocolate and a marathon of all the Home Alone movies, per request.

------

Dean snuggled into Cas’s side and ruffled a hand through Jack’s hair and he tried to think of something more perfect than having his family all together for Christmas. He couldn’t.

#destiel secret santa #secret santa 2020 #fanfic #destiel #deancas #christmas fluff #theangelwiththewormstache #my writing #destiel secret santa 2020 #fluff #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #jack kline #kaia rieves #claire novak

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years ago

Text

Only You: Dean x Reader (Requested)

Requested by: @littlemissmoxley: I was hoping for a Dean x Reader please? I’m fairly new to the fandom so I’ve only seen 3 seasons so far lol. I was hoping for a story where the reader feels like she is constantly compared to Cassie in Dean’s eyes even though she is a hunter too and she confides in Sam but Dean overhears the conversation and tries to convince the reader that he appreciates her for who she is and is sorry if he made her feel differently

A/N: Welcome to the family! We hope you enjoy your stay! I like comparing this fandom to the song Hotel California because like they say “you can check out any time you like but you can never leave!” lol don’t worry, that’s meant as a joke. It’s a very fun and very loving family so I hope you enjoy it!

Had to jump all the way back in season 1 for this and Dean gave me MAJOR feels throughout but totally worth it!

Also I don’t think this is my best work but I did my best

Warnings: Angst, swearing, angry!Dean (that’s a sexy warning) fluff, slight mention of sex but very light

Word Count: 2,752

Taglist requests are open!

Supernatural Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

You had been living and working with the Winchester Brothers for the past year after they called on you for a little help with a case. You knew their Dad sort of well at one point in time after he saved you from a rather sticky situation with a vengeful spirit. At the time, you were working late and had gotten off of work when the attack happened but it ended up working out where John came to your rescue and made sure you were okay until he moved on to his next case. However, before he left you, he called his sons and had them come and stay with you longer because you were injured. John Winchester was not a man who would stay behind for an extended period of time to help some civilian but what he failed to learn but Sam and Dean stuck around to learn, was you weren’t a civilian; you were a hunter too. When they got to your apartment that night, you threw them for a loop.

“So what did our Dad say attacked you?” Sam, the youngest brother you found out, asked you.

“He said some kind of mental subject high on meth or something? Some total bullshit if you ask me. I know I was attacked by a vengeful spirit,” you say nonchalantly.

Both brothers just gave you a bizarre look, like they were freaking out over how you knew what was going on. No one needed to lie to you because you were aware of what was happening and that was unusual to the brothers.

“Wait, our Dad told us you were a civilian?” The eldest brother, Dean, asked.

“Yes that’s what he told you but see boys, your Dad didn’t stick around me long enough to know the truth; I’m a hunter too. I guess it was pure luck your Dad was close by when I was attacked because I knew I was getting myself into some shady shit when I had to dig out some corpse to stop a track of killings in Tucson but I wasn’t expecting more than one spirit to be involved here,” you explain, smirking as the tension was drawn away from the brothers.

A big part of every hunter's existence was to keep the job a secret from civilians; no one usually believes you anyways. So always having to come with an excuse for what happened when civilians almost died is exhausting. Lucky for the Winchesters, they didn’t have to worry about lying with you. After staying with you for a few days to make sure nothing was still trying to come after you, it was Dean who decided to have you live with them. He insisted on it due to how severe your injuries were but it didn’t bother you; you liked his company. Not that he really took care of you, he was just concerned. It was Sam who really took the time to care for you and that was how you and he had gotten so close. In fact, you confided in Sam about everything that was going on in your life so when you started doubting your relationship a year later, you went to him.

“Hey Sam, I need your advice on something,” you asked, going to see him in the War Room. He was currently sitting at the Map table behind his laptop, looking intently at the screen in front of him.

“Hey (y/n) sure, what’s going on?” He asked, eyes leaving the screen and landing on you.

“Well it’s about my relationship,” you say and Sam grows more concerned.

“Dean’s not hurting you, is he?” He asks, jumping to one of the most extreme scenarios. You had started going out with Dean a few months after you

“No, no, of course not. He’s been nothing but a gentleman but something seems a bit off.”

You and Dean started dating a little while after you agreed to go with them on their hunts. It was actually really great and you liked him a lot, but lately, you began to question everything about your relationship.

“Off? Like how?” Sam asks, motioning for you to sit down across from him.

“Well, he uh, did something odd,” you say, a bit hesitant on sharing what happened.

“What did he do?” Sam pressed you.

“Well, uh, we were making out the other day and he said another girl's name,” you say, cheeks turning bright red but you knew you could trust Sam. He’s not the kind of guy to make fun of you or tease you that often; he was sweeter than that. Unlike his brother of course, who thrives off teasing you.

“Who’s name did he say?” Sam questioned.

“Cassie? I-I don’t know who she is or where that came from but it was weird. And when I confronted him about it, he blew me off and wouldn’t say anything about it. Not to mention, he won’t even come near me,” You explain everything that happened.

“Oh….shit,” Sam said, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Sam? Who-who’s Cassie?” You ask.

“Cassie was Dean’s, first love. He was crazy about her and we ran into her again about a year ago. She called him because her Dad was killed by some racist truck that was driven by another vengeful spirit,” Sam explained his brother’s odd behavior.

“Oh, well that explains a lot. He-he probably has been comparing me to her this whole time! And I think I’m failing,” you say, an expression of realization on your face.

“No (Y/N) that’s not…” Sam tried to call after you but you left the room and went out to the motel lobby.

“How can I help you?” The young girl behind the front desk asked you.

“Yes, I need to get a room. I’m not sure for how long yet but I can pay for one and I need one as far away from room 113 as possible,” You say, sliding the fake credit card over to the lady.

She quickly took down all your information and put it all through her computer, verifying you wanted a room farther away from Sam and Dean’s room, before she finalized a few things, sliding your card back to you and a room key, bidding you a ‘pleasant stay.’ You walked back to get your belongings from your shared room with the boys and before walking in the door, you scoped the surrounding area to ensure you wouldn’t run into either brother and when you were sure the coast was clear, you frantically start packing your bag, making sure to get in and get out as fast as possible. Zipping the bag, you scribble down a note to Dean, and set it on the table by the front door, and head out. Making your way to the opposite side of the property, you find your room, unlock it and let yourself into your new home for as long as you and the boys would be in town investigating.

Dean’s POV

“Hey (Y/N/N), Sam, where are you guys?” I called out for the others living in the room with me to see if someone could help me with these groceries and take out what I bought.

“Hey Dean, let me grab some of that for you,” Sam says, grabbing some of the bags out of my hands and placing them on one of the counters.

“Where’s (y/n)? She said she was getting hungry earlier and I got her favorite food,” I say, excited to surprise my girl.

“Um, she’s not here,” Sam says, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Well, where is she?” I ask.

“She left,” Sam kept his response short.

“Sam, I need a much better explanation than just that.”

“There’s a note for you on the table by the door,” he says, unloading the bags of groceries.

I walk back to the door and there is, in fact, a note with my name on the top.

Dean,

I think it’s best if we part ways for a while since...well you know what happened; the incident. I talked to Sam about it and he told me who she was. I get it, Cassie was your first love and after just seeing her recently and hooking up with her again, I’d probably say her name too.

I’m not mad, in fact, I understand. I just think it’s best we aren’t in a romantic relationship since you’re not over her. Makes me wonder if you’ve been comparing me to her this entire time and I believe I fell short. I did a search on her and she is stunning in every way and I simply am not.

I’ll stay to help you and Sam with the remainder of this case but afterward, I’ll head back home. I know this may seem surprising to you but ultimately, it'll be ideal for all involved.

-(Y/N)

“Son of a bitch!” I said, crumpling up the note and throwing it at the floor.

“What’s wrong, what did the note say?” Sam asked.

“She left me, Sam. We were making out the other day and I said Cassie instead of (y/n) and now she thinks I’m still hooked up on her and that I’ve been comparing her to Cassie this entire time!” I yell, throw punching the wall.

“Well, she couldn’t have gone too far, she hates being by herself,” he says, trying to add some comfort to the situation.

“I can’t believe she thinks I still give two shits about Cassie! I haven’t even thought about her in the last year except for that one time,” I say, feeling shitty about this whole thing. I should’ve been more careful and paid better attention to (y/n). She probably thinks I don’t even care about her at all since we’ve been so busy lately with this case.

“I gotta find her Sammy,” I say, feeling helpless about everything but I at least needed to get started finding her and explaining to her where I’m coming from.

“Let’s go up to the front desk and see if she left anywhere,” Sam suggests, making me remember why I’m lucky to have him. I wouldn’t have thought of that on my own.

We head up to the desk and are met with a girl who looks like she’s just fallen in love. Guessing she finds us attractive by the way her eyes travel up and down both of us.

“How can I help you, boys?” She asks, smirking at Sam.

“We’re looking for a girl, about yay high, (y/e/c), (y/h/c) she goes by the name (y/n/n)? Have you seen her anywhere?”

“Oh, she checked into another room,” the girl says and I sigh in relief; she’s still here.

“Great, what room is she in?” I ask.

“I can’t tell you that, Sir,” she says to me, rolling her eyes and popping a bubble with her gum.

“I’m Agent Ackles, this is my partner Agent Padalecki, (y/n/n) is our partner and we need to know her whereabouts as soon as possible. We believe she might be in danger,” I say, flashing my FBI badge, Sam following my lead, and the girl quickly jumps to the computer and pulls up your information.

“She checked into room 2 earlier this afternoon,” the girl says.

“Where is room 2?” Sam asks, knowing all the rooms we’ve seen have been in the hundreds.

“On the opposite side of the property; those are the single-digit rooms.”

“Thank you,” I say, folding the badge and putting it away.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Sam asks.

“Nah, I got this. I’m hoping to work this out with her and if we do well,” I say and smirk, Sam immediately knowing what I was implying.

“Right, well thanks for that. I’m going to head back to the room then and you just call if something doesn’t go as planned,” he says and heads back to our room.

I follow the directions the receptionist girl gave me and after a surprisingly long walk, I find room 2. That girl wasn’t kidding; it really was on the opposite side of the property. I go over to the door and raise my fist to knock, pausing just a moment to gather my thoughts before finally making contact with the door.

“Just a minute!” She calls from the other side of the door and then she goes quiet for a while. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Look (y/n) I got your note, can we talk about this please?” I say, almost pleading for her to open up.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you,” she says.

“But I have plenty! Come one (y/n/n) please, let me explain.” She opens the door and looks pissed off.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you love me,” I test, knowing we haven’t said that to each other yet.

“And how do you know that?” I can tell she was affected by the comment but she kept fighting me.

“Because I know you and if you didn’t care anymore, you would’ve left.”

“Fine,” she says and steps aside, allowing me into the room.

“Look, (y/n) I’m sorry okay? I don’t know what happened that day. Maybe I was thinking about her subconsciously but I promise you, I am crazy about you and only you.”

“But you told her about our work; she obviously means a lot to you,”

“Meant a lot to me, yes, but YOU are the one who means more to me than, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but more than Baby.”

Her head snapped over to look at me, she wasn’t expecting that one and neither was I.

“I mean more to you than your prized Baby?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow to see if there were any signs of deceit but I was sincere.

“Yes, sweetheart. You are my girl and I’m crazy about you. You’re the first person I want to see when I wake up in the morning and the last one I want to see before I fall asleep at night. I want to be there when you’re not feeling well so I can cuddle you and tickle you until you feel better again. I want to cook you meals and I want to be able to binge-watch Scooby-Doo with you. I want to play with your hair and see you fall asleep with your head in my lap because you’re so incredibly beautiful and I cannot believe you are mine. I am so sorry you thought you weren’t good enough for me or that I’ve been comparing you to Cassie this whole time because I haven’t been. I’ve been pinching myself every single day I see you and get to kiss you because I’m still thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream and it’ll all be gone. I hope that isn’t true and that this is all real. After all, I can’t imagine my life without you in it because I love you. That’s right, I love you (y/n) and I don’t care who knows it! I am so in love with you that I was going to go insane if I hadn’t told you,” I fully express all my feelings, in a non-Dean way.

She keeps quiet and just when I think the worst happens, she makes her way over to me and grabs my head, bringing my lips to hers in a kiss. Instinctively, I grab her hips, holding her tight, and push her against the nearest wall. She’s completely trapped as my lips make the kiss more passionate by traveling down to her neck and over the tops of her breasts that were kind of spilling over by her pajama tank top. Just before anything gets too heated, I pull away to make sure we were on the same page, that she was okay with whatever plans I had conjured in my head and when she didn’t seem to hesitate and she lifted her shirt over her head and threw it on the floor beside her, I knew she was all in. I’ll admit, I forgot what I was doing for a minute as I pictured her lying under me as I do some rather fun things to her, but she snaps me out of it and I go out to put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, slamming it and locking it behind me. Yep, she was my girl again.

Taglist: @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @tloveswriting @akshi8278 @baby1967impala @deansmyapplepie @marvelfansworld @spnjediavenger

#dean winchester #dean #dean girls #dean girl #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #requested #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural fandom

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stusbunker · 4 years ago

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AGA: Word to the Wise

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Denny AU Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, past Dean/Jo

Other characters: Sam, Bobby, Cas, Mick, Ash, Jo

Word Count: 3000 (whoa)

A/N: Sam gets on Dean’s nerves and Dean ends up taking a late night detour. Big talks ahead.

Special thanks to my beta @cracksinthewalls who puts up with my whiny ass. Also grateful for @there-must-be-a-lock‘s insight.

The bowling league was in lean attendance due to a surprise snowstorm, but that didn’t keep Singers’ Slingers from mopping the floor with their competition. Dean ended on a spare in the last game, putting him just over his average for the night. State bowling wasn’t until spring, but if they kept up their momentum Dean was sure they could place well. And a weekend away would be a welcome break from his usual exhaustion.

Dean still owed Mick a rematch from last year’s trip. Mick drank him under the table and Dean didn’t want to lose two years running, he had a reputation to uphold afterall. Bartending had cut into his training time, among other things.

Ash was the first one to bow out for the night, knowing his side towing business would be busy with vehicles in ditches for however long the storm lasted. Cas bummed a ride with Mick, since his car had never done well in this weather and he was still dragging his feet on upgrading. Dean knew he had been hinting at shopping around, but Dean wasn’t going to push the topic and get dragged into helping or finagling with the salesman for the guy. Cas could figure it out on his own, and Dean was finally in a place where he felt comfortable letting him. Huh.

Sam had been quiet all night, but Dean hadn’t mentioned it, attributing the sour mood to post-break up blues. They bought Bobby his weekly drink, “team dues” as he called it and settled in along the bar.

Dean kept the conversation going, trying to keep the mood light, but Bobby was too tired to ham it up and Sam was not amused by his brother’s antics. Once Bobby polished off his last beer and headed home to Ellen, Dean was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, you know what, I’ll reel it in, don’t want to interrupt your sulking,” Dean muttered after another joke fell flat. Sam winced at Dean’s jab, which Dean instantly regretted. Though it did seem to shake Sam out of his funk, if minutely.

“So, tell me about Benny,” Sam brought up with elephantine grace.

Dean stared at Sam like he proclaimed he was quitting the law firm and joining the circus, coulrophobia and all.

Sam huffed. “What?”

“Nice segue there, counselor,” Dean grumbled. “What about him? Hmm, you want a new bowling bag? Because that was already on my list for you for Christmas.”

“Dude, you don’t have to do that. I mean, that’d be great, but no, I was kind of wondering what your deal was? Like do you hang out a lot?” Sam started fishing.

“Yeah, totally, everynight,” Dean deadpanned. “I mean I only work two jobs when I’m not moving your sorry ass back into Mom and Dad’s.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam said, waiting to figure out where he was going with this line of questioning and just shot in the dark.

“What I’m trying to say is, is this, like, a Cas thing?” Sam choked out, unable to put it any more delicately.

Dean burned with shame as his hackles raised in defensiveness. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sam cocked his head and pursed his lips, unamused and unimpressed. “You know what I mean, man. Don’t make me spell it out.”

Dean wouldn’t budge, he dropped his beer with a thud. “Well, you’re gonna have to, because I have no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dude!” Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“The fuck is your problem? You got something to say, just say it, Sam.” Dean fumed, daring him with a murderous glare. Sam inhaled pregnantly, face still inching towards bitch mode. Sam eyed the bartender who was trying not to listen and the late game bowlers who suddenly decided they could catch up lane side instead.

What Dean didn’t realize was that he needed Sam to say it. He yearned for it, for his truth to be spoken, and known without him having to say it himself.

“Look, I know this isn’t something we talk about. But, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Alright? In the beginning with Cas, it was like you were obsessed, man. And since he just always seemed to need something from you. I just want to make sure you’re not getting used, I guess,” Sam unraveled the heart of his concern without saying too much, which Dean was not expecting, at all.

Dumbfounded, Dean retreated, annoyance trumping any chance at relief.

“I think I can handle myself, thanks,” Dean spat. Petulantly, he took a sip from his beer, the cold glass solid in his hand, giving him something to clutch or even throw, if it came down to it.

“I didn’t say---,” Sam broke off. “Fine! You know what? You’re on your own. Just remember that I should have listened to you about Ruby and now I’m paying the price for my own stubbornness.”

Sam stood and reached for his money clip, tossing an extra five on the bar for the dramatics. He gave Dean one last chance to come clean, to own up to what they weren’t saying. Dean stared straight ahead, eyes unfocusing on the liquor labels behind the bar as if Sam had already left. So he did, just as he came: pissed and questioning his brother’s motives.

Dean didn’t go home after that. Instead he absently followed a plow down the main road until he happened upon a familiar turn off. Which he took slow and steady until it ended in a T. The little brick ranch at the end of the lane held a lot of memories. And it was more inviting than ever with its Christmas card perfection in the falling snow. Dean put the Impala in park and let the radio play, wishing he had a joint just for the sake of something to do.

He wasn’t there ten minutes before his phone rang, which he answered without processing the caller ID.

“You gonna come in or you just gonna sit out there feeling sorry for yourself?” Jo’s voice sliced across the line.

“Didn’t know if you were still up,” Dean bullshitted.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Backdoor’s open,” her unimpressed reply. She hung up before Dean could make up an excuse to leave. He slouched out of the car and trudged down the long country driveway. As soon as he had stomped the snow off his boots, Jo welcomed him in with a firm hug and an appraising glint in her eye.

“Thanks, it’s a real mess out there,” Dean explained.

Jo just shook her head at him. “How’d ya bowl?”

“619 series, finished strong in the last few frames,” Dean answered. “Were you at your folks?”

“Nah, just know it’s Wednesday night, which means the boys were at the alley,” Jo smirked as she reached atop her fridge for the good stuff.

She held up the whiskey in offering and Dean nodded, bending out of his coat. He slipped it over the back of a chair and settled in at the vintage kitchen table. She poured him a glass and watched as he inhaled the first round like he had been outside for hours and needed to fight off a much deeper chill.

“Well alright,” Jo resigned herself to playing shrink and poured Dean another drink. “So, what’s got you stuck in your head, hm?”

Dean weighed his head from side to side as he let the whiskey roll over his tongue. He never got far into a pouting session when Jo was around, but he also didn’t know which chamber of his heart he could stand to prop open for her inspection tonight.

“How’ve you been, Jo? You still schooling those truckers on taking care of their own rigs?” Dean sidestepped with ease.

“You know it,” Jo confirmed. “Not a day goes by that I don’t have to put another asshole in his place. Pays good, though.”

Jo had followed in Bobby’s footsteps and became a mechanic, but two Singers were already one too many for the shop and salvage yard. So she took her skills out to the interstate and made a name for herself as the only female diesel technician in four counties. Dean used to hate it when she would fix something faster than him, but it had been more than a decade since her skills had made him feel inferior. Dean knew Jo’d be his boss someday, but he wasn’t too worried about those far off futures; Bobby wouldn’t retire unless Ellen made him or killed him first.

“How’s Rufus holding up?” Jo teased, knowing her dad’s old friend was getting worse for the wear, much like John had.

“Stubborn, and as glib as ever. Good thing your dad rehired him, because he’s a bit too mouthy for most customers,” Dean admitted.

Jo hummed with nostalgia. “I gotta swing by and bug you guys sometime, but it just keeps getting busier.”

Dean sighed. “I hear that. What’s it been? Labor day? No. I haven’t even seen you since the Fourth. Christ!”

“Yeah, well, you’ll see me next week for Thanksgiving, don’t get too sentimental about it now,” Jo quipped. She took a short sip off the bottle as Dean swirled the last of his second helping.

“I’m seeing someone,” Dean staggered the words, like he wasn’t sure if their meanings and sounds fit together.

Jo sighed dramatically, “Finally, the truth is revealed! What’s up? She’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No.” Dean had to bite back his guffaw. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, then why the sad face? Not pulling a Ruby on ya, I hope?” Jo tested the waters.

“No, it’s--uh--- it’s been good. Really good. I just, kind of need to make up my mind if I’m in it for the long haul. Ya know?” Dean clarified, relaxing with each little confession.

“Uh-oh it’s getting serious,” Jo mock whispered.

Dean rolled his shoulders. “No, well, it could be. I don’t know.”

Jo giggled. “I can’t believe you! You’re fucking twitterpated, aren’t you?!”

“Jo, if you start making Thumper jokes, I’m shutting up right now,” Dean warned with a pointed finger. “Care to top me off while you’re at it?”

“Okay, okay, gosh.” Jo rolled her eyes dramatically as she poured him another drink before pointedly putting it back on the fridge. “But you’re in deep. You’re all blushy about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go big. It just means they’re willing to put up with me until I say the word,” Dean tried to downplay his feelings and Benny’s confession.

“So do it! Bust out the grand gestures already,” Jo encouraged.

Dean scoffed, “I’m not built for commitment, you know that!”

“Except you kinda are! You’ve changed, Dean,” Jo insisted, head hung to pour her honesty from her eyes. “I don’t know when it happened, but you’re not that reckless boy that I knew. You’ve always been a good guy, but now?---- Maybe it’s been since Sam came home, I don’t know. But somewhere along the way you grew up.---- It’s okay to let yourself want something more, you know.”

Dean grumbled and rolled his neck, breaking the eye contact. She always could do this to him, just like her mother, see straight through his every defense. “I always thought it’d be you, you know?”

Jo smiled without teeth. “Firsts can do that to people. But, we’re not those kids anymore, Dean. So, if you’re asking for my permission or seeking my approval---?”

Dean dropped his head to his hands, thick fingers poorly hiding him from Jo. “It’s a guy, Jo. I’m--- I don’t know--- Bi? I guess?”

“Dean?” Jo waited until he stopped being sheepish and looked at her, even if it was only out of the corner of one eye. “You’ve been head over heels for Cas for years. If you dare tell me this is about him, so help me, I will throw you out right now.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh ruefully at that and toss back what was left of his whiskey. “You saw that, huh?”

She didn’t answer, waiting for him to work through it on his own.

“It’s not Cas.” Dean smacked his lips and held up his glass for a refill. Jo stood and brought the bottle back to the table. Dean poured himself three fingers worth and pondered the sloshing liquid before he continued. “Your mom know?”

Jo licked her lips, cocked her head, and sighed.

Dean closed his eyes and asked, “Bobby? Fuck!--- my mom?!”

“No one has ever said it out loud, Dean. I don’t know who knows, honestly. But we’re family, that doesn’t change.” Jo grasped his wrist firmly, he held her hand to his and then she slapped her other one on top. Time stopped long enough for Dean to accept that his secret was finally out, but also that it was safe.

“I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you, of all people.” Dean thumbed her knuckles, staring into eyes he knew as well as his own.

“Really? Who else would you be talking to about it? Sam? Ash, maybe?” Jo giggled. “I’m honored, actually. It means you stopped hating me.”

Dean pulled his hands away and took another drink. “I never hated you.”

“Okay, well, maybe it means you stopped hating yourself,” Jo corrected.

Dean’s brows crooked incredulously.

“Too much?” Jo asked apologetically.

Dean shook his head and sighed. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

“Now you’re the one being rude,” Jo muttered before taking a solid drink off the bottle this time.

Dean let himself relax, let the whiskey and conversation work into his muscles and set his worries aside. They talked like the old days and about the old days. Those in between years after high school and before anyone was ready to face responsibility. When half their friends went to college, they had just kept on working. After another hour, Jo leaned back in her chair and started scrutinizing him once again.

“You know how I know you’re happy with what’s his name?” Jo teased.

“Beh--- I didn’t tell you, fuck! Benny, his name is Benny. Goddamnit Joanna Beth,” Dean cursed through a chuckle; more details dragged out of him than he had planned on.

Jo cocked her head and considered the name.“Benny, right. You wanna know how I know?” Jo pushed.

“Fine, how?” Dean held up his hand, beckoning for her to hit him with her response.

“Because this is about the time of night you start giving me the lazy once over. But not tonight,” Jo proclaimed, chin out condescendingly. She had him, every few years they’d find themselves back in each other’s beds, for a night or a weekend and then they’d move on. He always thought of her as his home, his starting point. But maybe they weren’t the same thing at all.

“You still look good, Jo,” Dean replied, trying to save face.

“That’s not what I meant, Dean. Besides, I know!” Jo snarked, straightening her spine and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and it spilled out over a toothy grin, making Jo almost choke on her drink. God, Dean felt like anything was possible. That life was good.

After the hysterics had calmed down, Dean exhaled. “Thanks, Jo. I needed this.”

“You sure did, nobody else was gonna hand you your ass so kindly,” Jo agreed, standing and taking the bottle and Dean’s glass with her to the counter that held the sink. He whined comically, but knew her timing was right. She leaned back and smirked.

Dean grew quiet and Jo waited to see if it was exhaustion, the alcohol or something else. She didn’t have long to prepare.

“How’m I gonna tell my dad?” Dean asked, the pain and panic pulling at his face until she saw the telltale tears well up.

“Fuck ‘im. I mean it, if your dad can’t get his head out of his ass to see how happy you are, he isn’t worth your time,” Jo said adamantly.

Dean let his thoughts roll to the side of his head and licked his lips, biting against the tremor. He quickly wiped away the tears that escaped and inhaled wet and ragged. Jo slipped to his side and ran her hand through his hair, letting his face fall against her chest as he breathed through the onslaught. Dean couldn’t help but think how motherly the affection felt.

She pulled back to look him over at arms’ length.

“So what now? You want the couch? Or should I call you a ride? I’m sure Sam owes you one,” Jo asked, as no nonsense as ever.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean dismissed her concern, rubbing up his face to wipe off his nose.

“Well, you ain't driving.” Jo held up his keys. Dean blanched, feeling his pockets for them, fruitlessly. He stood to snatch them, but she had already skipped across the kitchen, too far to catch. “Nuh-uh, no way I’m letting you risk your baby. Or your thick skull in this weather.”

Dean put his hands on his hips, and blinked through the dizziness. He realized he hadn’t stood in a few hours. “Sam.”

“What’s that?” Jo prodded mischievously, ear leaning in as if she couldn’t hear him.

“Very funny. Call Sam, will ya?” Dean rolled his eyes as she scrolled through her contacts, murmuring the names under her breath. His keys were raised in victory, as if he couldn’t reach them above her head. He could have snagged them in an instant, if he wanted to.

While Jo woke Sam, Dean checked his own phone. Ignoring some texts from his mom and Cas, he selected the conversation with Benny. There were no new messages since that morning. Dean hesitated before relocking his screen.

“Sam’ll be here in twenty. You want something to eat? I’ve got chips.” Jo offered, opening the cupboard.

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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#A Gentlemen's Agreement #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #dean/benny #dean x benny #bi!dean #coming out #aga: word to the wise #dean winchester/benny lafitte #dean/jo #sam's trying he really is #stubborn dean

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deascheck · 3 years ago

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Finding Prince Charming

Summary: Reader is captured by a werewolf and then rescued by Sam and Dean, who she’d never met before.

Word Count: 3495

Pairings: developing Sam x Reader

Warnings: decent amount of angst, violence, a death, description of injuries… I think that’s it? AND FLUFF

A/N: Would love feedback.. Please let me know what you think. I don’t write often, so however I can make my writing better, I’d love to try! Also, I didn’t really research any medical stuff, so if there are inaccuracies, I apologize! This is also un-beta'ed, so sorry for any mistakes!

You were running. You didn’t know how far you’d gone or how long you’d been going, but you were too scared to stop. Over your labored breaths, you could hear hoarse growls coming from behind you.

As your feet pounded the ground, your arms pumping, you risked a glance behind you. As you turned your head, your hair flopped across your face. Panicked, you brushed at it with your hand. The thing you were running from was several yards behind you, but, unfortunately, was still there.

You didn’t know exactly what it was, but you knew it had started out looking like a ridiculously attractive man. The man had approached you at the bar and offered to buy you a drink. He’d introduced himself as Tristan. Tall, tan, white teeth, hair that was ruffled as if it was sex hair, and a broad chest just made for cuddling against. Of course you didn’t say no. Being single and looking for a fun night, you’d commenced your usual flirtations.

You didn’t realize he wasn’t a human until you had headed for the car with him, and you saw his reflection in the side-view mirror. Tristan heard your gasp and had apparently decided to hell with it, because he lunged as a fanged, clawed non-human. So you did the first thing you could think of, which was to pepper spray him and run. You mentally thanked the Lord that you’d worn flat boots.

The pepper spray had given you a big enough lead that he hadn’t caught you yet – apparently he wasn’t very fast – but you didn’t know how to get rid of him. He was too close for you to ditch.

You ran past a closed Starbucks, and then realized where you were. There was a 24/7 Walgreens store just a block away. If you could get that far, you’d be safe. Energy renewed, you pumped your arms faster, spurring your deadening legs to move more quickly.

The buildings on the block blurred as your speed and desperation increased. You hadn’t heard a growl since you’d checked over your shoulder, and you didn’t dare check again. The Walgreens came into view and you almost cried with relief.

As you closed the distance between you and the door to a few yards, you felt something massive grip your bicep tightly from behind, and yank you backwards. Before you could scream for help, you felt a searing pain in the back of your head and all went black.

When you came to, you were tied to a chair in a dank, dark room. It smelled like dead fish, and you couldn’t help but gag at the initial smell. You hear a chuckle come from across the room. Your eyes weren’t adjusting fast enough, so you squinted, trying to get a better look at thing that chuckled. It was the Tristan-monster.

“Tristan? What are you? Cause dude, you fugly.*” You did your best not to draw back into the chair when he stood up abruptly and stalked towards you. Thrusting your chin forward defiantly, you said rudely, “Why am I here? Cause if you kill me, I’m gonna be pissed. And then I’ll come back and haunt your ass.”

Tristan sank to his knees in front of you, allowing you to look straight at him instead of straight up. He spoke for the first time with his fangs and claws out, and said, “Y/N, why did you run? You made things so much more complicated for yourself.” Tristan’s voice was gravelly and deep, and held a hint of frustration and disappointment.

“Why did I run?! Oh let me think for a second.. Maybe because I saw a massive, sharp-toothed monster in my car’s mirror? It’s called self-preservation, genius.” You rolled your eyes at him, wondering if he was genuinely surprised or just being a tool.

Tristan growled when you called him a monster, and his claws elongated as he stared angrily at you. Your eyes widened and you could do nothing but watch as he pulled his arm back to rip you a new one – quite literally.

You couldn’t help the scream that ripped itself from your throat as he swung at your shoulder. His claws tore through your muscle like it was water. All you could think about was the pain; the white hot, searing pain that raged in your shoulder.

Tears streamed down your face as you tried to curl yourself around your wound. But Tristan’s attack wasn’t finished. He swung at you again, his claws raking down your side leaving deep oozing gashes. Your macho attitude officially snuffed out, you screamed again, shaking with pain.

The third hit left you fearing your ribs were laid bare. Your torso was in shreds. Tristan’s claws had rent from your collarbone all the way down to your shorts. Vaguely, you realized you were soaked in your own blood. Even as you tried to lean away from Tristan, you started to lose consciousness as the pain and blood loss began to take their toll.

However, no swing came. You heard three gunshots, and Tristan’s growls stopped. Moving your eyes to him, you saw him on the floor, blood spreading from his body. As darkness overtook you, you made out two tall shapes running towards you.

When you came to, all you saw was white. Were you in heaven? You raised your head an inch and looked around. You saw monitors and tubes, and then you heard bleeping. Nope. Not heaven. The hospital. In a chair next to your bed, you saw a man slumped, asleep. You had no idea who he was, so you took a moment to study him. He had long hair, for a guy. He had a bit of scruff, and was most certainly not hard to look at. He was in a red flannel shirt and dirty, ripped jeans. The circles under his eyes were dark, and you wondered how much he actually got to sleep.

As if he felt your eyes on him, he stirred and opened his eyes. You made eye contact and he immediately shifted to lean forward. He cleared his throat, and said, “Hey! Glad you’re awake. Doctors weren’t sure when you would wake up. How are you feeling?” His green eyes were gentle and inquisitive, and you found yourself getting lost in them.

Realizing you hadn’t answered the question, you quickly did a self-assessment and responded, “I’m fine, actually… I don’t feel much right now. Must be the pain meds. How did I get here? And sorry, who are you?” Your curiosity was eating you up.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m Sam. Me and my brother, Dean, we found you in the warehouse. We brought you here.” Sam blushed slightly, which you found surprisingly adorable.

“Hi Sam, I’m Y/N. I, uh… I don’t remember much after the Tristan-monster attacked me,- ” you stopped and closed your eyes briefly. You’d said Tristan-monster out loud. Sam was smiling widely when you opened your eyes, and through your embarrassment, you found it a very attractive smile. He had the cutest dimples you’d ever seen. You leaned your head back and groaned, “I can’t believe I actually said that.”

Sam’s smile turned into a laugh, but he took pity and said, “Hey, I’m not judging. It seems like an accurate assessment if Tristan was his name.”

His comment made you think of something. You tilted your head at him. “What on earth were you doing in that warehouse to begin with? No one in their right mind would go to a place that stank that badly of dead fish.”

Sam chuckled, managing to look slightly uncomfortable at the same time. He looked at you for a few seconds, chewing his bottom lip, as if he was internally debating what he should say. You decided to help him out, and said softly, “The truth would be nice, if that helps at all.”

He huffed quietly and cleared his throat again. “Well, Dean and I were looking for your Tristan-monster. He was a werewolf. We’d tracked him to the warehouse, when we heard you were in there too.” At this point, he looked away guiltily. “Nothing seemed out of control, so we didn’t want to rush in with our guns half cocked. But… turns out you were there, and that cost you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your sympathy swelling, you reached out for his hand. Sam put his hand in yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand gently.

“It’s ok, Sam. Really. I got myself into that mess. Should have known someone that good looking and charming was too good to be true...” You trailed off bitterly.

Sam squeezed your hand. “Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” He waited until you dragged your eyes to him before continuing. “It’s not your fault. This happens to the best people for no good reason. It’s awful that Tristan picked you, but think about it this way. You made it. You survived. If you can get through that hell, you’ll make it through whatever life throws at you. And after shit like that, I hope life throws you everything good you could possibly want. Maybe you’ll even have your Prince Charming thrown at you.” Sam looked at you with soft eyes and you couldn’t help but melt a little.

You loved how sincere he was. You gave him a small smile. “Well, once I get out of here, maybe my good life will start with dinner with you.” You glanced at him shyly, not really regretting your inquiry.

Sam leaned forward slightly and said softly, “I think I’d like that. But you’ve got a long recovery ahead, Y/N. You had a real one over done on you.” His smile faded slightly as he thought about the extent of your injuries.

Before he could say anything, though, your stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard halfway across the world. You blushed deeply and quipped, “Before we talk about how much I got screwed up, is there any way I could have something to eat? I think my stomach wants to eat itself, it's so hungry.”

Your comment surprised a laugh out of Sam, and he let go of your hand and got to his feet. “Of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Still chuckling, he strode out of the room quickly.

A couple minutes after Sam left, a nurse bustled in. She was beautiful and young, but looked comfortable in her role; she’d been here a while.

She smiled warmly at you and said, “Hi honey, good to see you awake. I’m Laura, and I’m gonna check your bandages, ok?”

Something was warning you about her, but you shrugged it off, blaming your lack of trust on your trauma. “Ok, thanks Laura.”

She pulled some clean bandages out from a cabinet near your bed and started trying to make conversation. “You know, whoever gave you those lacerations really worked you over. We were worried we were going to lose you for a while there.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “A while there? How long have I been here?”

Laura looked at you in surprise. “No one’s told you? You’ve been here for three days. Two men who found you brought you in. You have a severe concussion, your shoulder muscle was ripped to shreds, and sweetheart, I won’t even go into how bad the wound on your chest and stomach was. Let’s just say after surgery and a lot of stitches later, you were stabilized.”

You weren’t sure how to react. You knew Tristan had practically killed you, but hearing it voiced was scary. And three days? Holy hell. He must have hit you upside the head a lot harder than you thought. Laura’s hands moving to your bandages brought you back to reality. You almost didn’t want to look while she prepared to change them.

As she pulled the bandages back, you hissed through your teeth. Thank God you were on serious pain medication, because the wounds looked like they would hurt like a mother. Stitches and staples were all over your torso. Your left shoulder had so many staples you were surprised there was still skin showing. The gashes from your collarbone to your hips were stitched and stapled, but they were terrifying. You knew they were all going to scar.

A sharp prick redirected your attention to Laura. She was no longer smiling, and she stared down at you with a mixture of disgust and smugness on her face. You looked at her, confusion all over your face. “What did you just inject me with?” you asked, trying not to panic. Laura tossed away the syringe, and sneered at you. “You think you can get away with killing my mate? His stench is all over you. Did you honestly think he was alone? He was my world and you took him from me!” Her lip curled in anger as her eyes filled with hate.

“I just injected you with poison,” Laura continued, hate in her voice. “An injection of this particular type will give you a nice, long, slow death. I didn’t do enough to kill you, though. Oh no. I’m going to drag this out. You’re going to suffer for taking Tristan from me!” Laura’s hair had started to fall out of its bun from the angry shakes that racked her body.

As she watched you, you felt a pain in your chest. You gasped at the sharpness of it. You started to curl, but found it hurt more because of your injuries. The pain centered on your heart, and you arched your back slightly. You were too weak to do anything more than moan in agony.

As it faded, Laura shot you with the syringe again. You shook your head, desperate for the pain to stop. “Please, stop…” you gasp. “Please. I didn’t kill Tristan!” Tears rolled down your cheeks as your clenched your eyes shut in pain.

Suddenly, a familiar voice yelled, “Hey! Drop the syringe!”

Your red-rimmed eyes snapped open and you saw Sam drop a bag of food as he launched himself at Laura.

It was clear Sam knew how to fight. He easily overpowered Laura and as he knelt on her back, he pulled a knife from his boot. But Laura was too angry for Sam to hold for long. With a chilling growl, she morphed into a female version of the Tristan-monster - the werewolf- with the claws and fangs. Sam was thrown across the room against a wall of cabinets. Through your pain-hazed eyes, you saw his head snap back and contact the wall with a sharp crack.

Laura stalked toward him, her claws slowly extending. Sam, slumped on the ground, looked around for something to fight her off with. Panicked, your eyes swept the room, trying to help from your bed. You stop your sweep when you see the syringe on the floor not two feet from your bedside table.

Rolling your eyes, you knew you would regret what you were about to do. With a grunt, you let yourself fall out of bed. You made sure to land on your right side, but the impact still jarred you to your core. Your vision went dark for a second as you fought to stay conscious. You shook your head. Sam needed help. Grabbing the syringe, you hauled yourself to your feet and yelled weakly, “Sam!” and tossed the syringe.

His head spun in your direction and he caught the syringe right as Laura let loose a terrifying snarl and lunged at him. You screamed despite yourself as your view of Sam was blocked by Laura’s attack.

You heard Sam grunt and then Laura was shoved away from him. She staggered away, clutching her heart. Sam staggered to his feet, the syringe clutched tightly in his hand. He’d injected her in the heart. A full dose. Both of you watched warily as she yelled in pain, and then collapsed.

Sam felt for her pulse, and when he found none, he stumbled to you. He was bleeding from a shallow cut to his cheek, but he paid it no attention as he grabbed you. His hands ghosted over you, checking for further injury. You sobbed, losing any semblance of composure you had left.

“She injected me in the arm with that stuff,” you cried. “Twice! I’m so scared. It hurts so bad,” you moaned as you started to drop to the floor. Sam immediately called for a doctor as he caught you. A doctor must’ve been close, because one hurried into the room at Sam’s yell. Sam explained the nurse had injected you with poison, to which the doctor’s jaw dropped. He hurried out and returned a couple minutes later with a generic antidote and security. Dropping to his knees, he gently injected you and sat back, waiting to see what would happen. While he attended to you, security grabbed the nurse from the floor and carried her to another room, where she was placed in handcuffs and inspected. You later heard she was pronounced dead almost immediately.

Still holding you, Sam wrapped his arms around you, low enough so that he wouldn’t mess up your injuries further and pulled you onto the bed. Once there, you leaned against his chest and turned your head into the crook of his neck, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes no matter how hard you tried to stop. The pain was slowing, a feeling of warmth chasing the pain through your body.

“It’s going away,” you mumbled. The doctor nodded and said, “I need to check your vitals to make sure you’re stable after that poison was injected. Let me have your good arm.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around your arm and took your blood pressure. It was a little high, but considering the trauma you’d been through, he accepted it. Grabbing a thermometer he ran it over your forehead and behind your ear. Your temperature was ok, coming down as the poison left your body. The doctor nodded to himself. “You seem stable. I’m going to let you two be for a while. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, and you eventually cried yourself to sleep. You woke to voices talking quietly. You could feel Sam’s voice rumbling deep in his chest and you found yourself thinking you could get used to feeling that.

Then the reality of your situation sank in, and your eyes flew open. You immediately saw a man sitting in the chair next to the bed. He was also in a flannel shirt and jeans. He had incredibly green eyes and he was deep in conversation with Sam. You flashed back to your conversation with Sam earlier. This must be Dean.

Dean’s eyes flickered to you as he talked and he realized you were awake. “Y/N!” he exclaimed. “Sam, she’s awake.” Dean held his hand out, “Hi, I’m Dean. I understand you helped save my little brother. Thank you!” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You took his hand shyly, smiling back. “I think you guys saved my ass first, and Sam here saved it again earlier… So I think tossing him a syringe is the least I could do.” You looked up at Sam and then again back at Dean. “Thank YOU. And thank you for getting me here. I would have died if not for you two.”

As you spoke, you snuggled deeper into Sam’s arms. Maybe you’d only met him that day, but you knew that you felt safe around him. Sam squeezed you gently in response, and you felt your hair move as he spoke next to your head.

“So, Y/N. You’re patched up enough that you can check out if you want to. And,” Sam hesitated briefly before he continued. “Well, we were wondering if you wanted to come with us. We have a place a couple hours from here where you can recuperate and get back to full strength.” You smiled as he talked, already knowing your answer. “Call us overprotective, but after that nurse went loco, we want to be able to keep an eye on you while you finish healing.”

You craned your head as far as you could and beamed up at him. “Sam, when you told me life would throw me my Prince Charming, I didn’t realize he’d already shown up.”

Sam gave you a big smile and pressed his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss, giving you an unspoken vow that he would always be there. “I’m here for you, always.”

Your moment was interrupted by Dean clearing his throat. “Um, guys? Yeah, still here. Get a room. But first… Y/N. You don’t happen to have a sister do you?”

#supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #readerinsert #supernaturalfandom #supernatural #deascheck #sam winchester

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writtenmemxries · 4 years ago

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5 Ways to Tell Someone You Love and Appreciate Them

I'm back with a Destiel ficlet that I had in the back of my mind for a while. It's fluff, I think. I sincerely hope you like it, let me know what you think if you want! xx

[1894 words]

Castiel hesitated before entering the bunker's library, where Sam sat at one of the tables, searching for something on the computer. A case perhaps, although since Chuck was defeated, the monsters seemed to have calmed down. The world seemed to have finally found its balance, with Jack in charge.

Sam and Eileen had started dating. They often went out to eat in restaurants, to get ice cream, to do all the activities that couples do and for which Dean jokingly teased him.

Actually, Dean envied him. He had managed to find a semblance of normality in that life that had sent them to the mat bleeding so many times. Yet there he was, smiling and serene as he hadn't been for years. Yes, Dean envied him, but he was so damn happy for him.

Castiel was human, and would remain so forever. Or at least, until his death. It had been a necessary sacrifice, but Castiel didn't mind. He extracted every last drop of his angelic grace to use it in the final battle against Chuck. Dean had insisted so much on him not to do it, he was so sure they would find another way, Cas didn't have to give up everything for them. But after all, that's what he's always done, isn't it?

The only thing that Castiel really wanted was to be able to live peacefully with his family, growing old with them. But he didn't have the courage to tell Dean.

There were so many things he didn't have the courage to tell him, and now that he was human - for the second time in his millennial life - the feelings he felt seemed amplified to the nth degree. They were so overwhelming that he felt the physical need to get rid of this weight that crushed his chest every time Dean looked at him, every time Dean spoke to him, whenever Dean was a little too close to him.

So, that morning, Castiel sought out Sam with the intention of borrowing his computer and doing some... personal research.

"Sam?" Castiel called sheepishly, shifting his weight from side to side.

"Yes, Cas?" Sam answered, looking up from the screen to glance briefly at his friend.

"Could you lend me your computer? Not right now, it's not urgent. I just need it to do, um, research."

Sam gave him his full attention. "Uh, sure, no problem. Did you find a case or something?"

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had unwittingly got from Dean. "No, it has nothing to do with cases. I have to... look for something. Information."

"Oh." Sam raised his eyebrows. "All right. Can I help you somehow?"

Castiel eyed him, thinking. "No," he replied simply.

Sam chuckled. "Okay, you can use it now if you want. But if you wanna watch porn, use Dean's computer, please."

Castiel squinted, confused. Then Sam stood up and walked away, patting him on the shoulder.

And so, Castiel was left alone.

He sat down in front of the computer and hesitantly opened Google. He stared at the blank page for a while, not sure what to look for exactly. Eventually, he opted for something simple. After all, Dean had explained to him that it was better to use a few simple words.

So Castiel typed, with the slowness of someone who is not yet familiar with computers, How to tell someone you love them.

He surfed for a while, dissatisfied with the results, until he found a page that seemed to be interesting. 5 Ways to Tell Someone You Love and Appreciate Them.

Slowly, he began to read the list of expressions one could use to say I love you without actually saying it.

"You are special to me."

Dean looked up from the book he was reading, sitting in an armchair. Castiel was looking at him, sitting next to him, holding a book he wasn't paying attention to. He smiled softly, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. He cleared his throat.

"What?"

"I said you are special to me."

Dean took in a sharp breath. "Yeah, I heard it. Why would you say that?"

Castiel shrugged. He focused his gaze on his book without saying a word, and Dean thought he saw a hint of a blush on his face.

He swallowed, trying to slow his heartbeat. Why was it beating so fast anyway?

He resumed reading, pretending to forget what had just happened. It wasn't important, he didn't care. But the blush on his cheeks said otherwise.

"I feel amazing when I spend time with you," Castiel said with a smile, taking the bowl of popcorn from Dean's hands.

They were alone in the so-called Dean Cave, ready to watch a movie together. Sam and Eileen had abandoned them to go celebrate their five-month anniversary, or some nonsense like that.

"Um, thanks, I guess," Dean replied, unsure why his friend had made that comment.

Castiel continued to smile, taking a handful of popcorn, making it fall more on the couch than in his mouth.

Dean giggled. His heart was beating so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

"It's nice to have you here," he said, shaking his head slightly, as if even he couldn't believe he actually said that.

Castiel looked at him with his sweet blue eyes. "The movie is about to start," he said softly.

"Yeah," Dean whispered. He cleared his throat. "Give me the popcorn, you bastard!"

He tried to focus on the film, but it was difficult as he kept rehearsing Castiel's words in his mind, glancing at him every now and then, focusing on how the light from the TV reflected off his eyes.

"Your thoughtfulness is a delight to receive," Castiel said as Dean placed a jar of honey he bought for Cas the day before on the breakfast table.

Sam looked up from his plate, surprised. He looked at Dean, whose ears were turning red.

"Yeah well, I know how much you like it and how much of a pain-in-the-ass you can be if you don't eat it," Dean muttered. "I didn't go there to buy it on purpose, it was there and when I saw it I thought of you and, um, I bought it, and-" he stammered.

Sam laughed quietly at the bizarre exchange. Dean shot him a cold look.

"Whatever. Just eat the damn thing."

Castiel smiled and took the jar of honey, humming a joyful tune under his breath.

Dean did everything he could to hide the smile that was growing on his lips behind his cup of coffee.

"Your smile makes me smile."

Dean stiffened. Eileen had just told a particularly funny anecdote about Sam, and Dean couldn't help but throw his head back and burst into laughter, making fun of his little brother.

But as soon as Castiel spoke, Dean nearly lost his balance, almost falling off his chair.

Cas was looking at him with so much adoration that Dean felt his insides turn to mush. He was sure his cheeks were on fire. Wasn't it a little hot in that room, too?

Sam and Eileen glanced at each other knowingly and stood up, muttering something about having to go get something in the kitchen.

Dean stood still, his eyes glued to Castiel, who blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, looking away.

"What? No, no, you didn't- I don't-"

Castiel got up slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "It's been a tiring day, I better go to bed."

Dean nodded, remaining silent. "Goodnight Cas," he said then in an uncertain voice.

Castiel gave him a small smile, then disappeared into the corridor.

Dean thought he saw a veil of sadness in his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, along with the guilt he felt, and tried to forget about it.

That night, however, he struggled to fall asleep.

"Don't you think Cas is acting a little weird these days?" Dean asked his brother after Castiel had gone out with Eileen to go grocery shopping.

Sam shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, he's been saying weird things. I mean, weirder than usual."

"For example?"

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, you heard it last night. 'Your smile makes me smile', what the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Sam looked at his brother. Oh Dean. Poor, oblivious Dean.

"What?" he snapped, feeling his brother's gaze on him.

Sam shook his head. "You should ask him. I mean, I can't speak on his behalf, but... Dean, I think Cas is trying to send you... signals."

"Signals, what kind of signals?"

"Seriously, Dean? What kind of signals?"

Dean swallowed. "Cas doesn't like me."

"Well, the evidence says something else," Sam noted before leaving Dean alone and confused, with feelings and sensations he couldn't name.

However, he decided to follow Sam's advice, and as soon as Castiel returned with the shopping bags, he approached to help him, hoping that he could take him aside to talk, but it wasn't that simple. Not only did Castiel avoid his gaze for the rest of the day, but he did what he could to avoid him as well.

So, Dean knocked on his bedroom door that night. He had no idea what he was going to say, and a part of him hoped that Castiel was already asleep, that he didn't hear him, that he wouldn't open the door. But this was not the case.

The doorknob turned, and Dean found himself face to face with the former angel.

"Hey."

"Hello Dean." Castiel turned his back to him. "Do you need something?"

"Um, I..." He took a few tentative steps inside the room, then closed the door behind him. "You okay man?"

Castiel looked at him in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he used to do when he was still an angel. "Yes. Why?"

Dean shrugged casually. "I don't know, you've been a little... weird, lately. I mean, um..."

Castiel tensed. "I apologise if my behaviour somehow made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention."

"No, no, not that, actually, I, um-"

Castiel stared at him curiously. He focused his gaze on Dean's red-tinged cheeks, on his receding eyes, on the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck.

A quick thought went through his mind. What if...?

Slowly, he walked over to Dean. He saw his breathing quicken, his pupils widen.

He was a breath away from him.

"Dean."

Dean closed his eyes, swallowing slowly. "Yeah Cas?"

"I am sorry if I crossed a line, but the truth is... I can be me when I am with you."

Dean opened his eyes, getting lost in the blue of Castiel's, but said nothing.

"And I hope you feel the same," Castiel said in a whisper.

For a moment neither of them spoke, and Castiel felt terribly guilty, like he had it all wrong. He was already about to back off when Dean grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Yeah Cas, I do."

And in an instant, he closed the distance between them. Their lips met trembling, uncertain. Unknown but familiar at the same time.

With a sigh, Castiel smiled. "I love you," he said softly, and Dean smiled back.

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alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom · 4 years ago

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THE MASTERPIECE: CHAPTER 5/5

Pairing: Modern!IVAR x Reader x Modern!HVITSERK

Spotify playlist: here (only for those who like latin urban music)

Warnings: strong language

Words: 2432

a/n: OK dear readers, I hope you get finally all the answers you needed. I hope you enjoy it as much as @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie and I did.

Summary:

Ivar and Hvitserk had always prided themselves in being the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. They had a comfortable life full of everything they wanted: houses, cars, money, and the most beautiful women. And with all of that came the security of always having the upper hand. But what happens when a bewitching girl from Ragnar’s past arrives into their lives claiming his fortune?

“So, you don’t remember half of the night?”

“Only bits and pieces,” Ivar admitted, with a mortified countenance.

“Wow. Well, I’m happy that you finally fucked yourself into oblivion, little brother. Welcome to the club.” Hvitserk’s grin made Ivar’s lips twitch in annoyance. “Anyway, I just called you here to say that this morning I gave her that painting that dad loved so much and she said she would give us our inheritance back in exchange. We should be fine now.”

“Wait a moment. You did what?!” He could feel his blood boiling with every question that he shot at his sibling. “Couldn’t you tell me that at home? And would you like to explain to me why you didn't consult it with me first, you idiot?” Ivar stood up fast as a lightning bolt. One of the bones in his leg gave a considerably loud creak but he masked the pain by wrinkling his face in anger.

People started staring at them but as always, Ivar didn’t care what others thought of him.

“I don’t get it. What’s this frenzy about?” Hvitserk was pretty proud of the deal that he had sealed with Y/N and he currently felt embarrassed by Ivar’s behavior. “Please sit down, Ivar.” He spoke softly avoiding his eyes.

“No! Shut up and listen to me! In that fucking picture you gave her there was a key hidden behind the frame. It opened up a locker or a box, I don’t know! But something valuable for sure! Father put it there so no one could find it. I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone about it. I thought we could take the painting with us if our plan to talk to her failed and she left us without any money. She wouldn’t notice it anyway. Father must have stored a lot of important papers and expensive things somewhere. Now that we are one step closer to being poor, they wouldn’t be a bad thing to have.”

“But how did she know it was that painting for sure?”

Ivar looked like he was putting together some clues inside his brain. “Wait a second…” His expression fell in an instant and he knew himself to be the biggest fool. “I think- I think she drugged me...”

“Druggedyou?!” Hvitserk’s olive eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. The second time we met. I remember feeling very strange after she served me that wine and she started asking questions about father. Then the rest of the night passed in a blur.”

“That makes no sense. Y/N asked me for that painting before she drugged you.”

“Well, we still don’t know how, but she knew our father at some point... Maybe she remembered that Ragnar liked it and I was the idiot who told her it had a key in the back...” Ivar offered the best explanation he could think of. His teeth clashed together in anger.

“At this point,” Hvitserk rubbed his forehead with exasperation. “I don’t care. It doesn’t really matter how she knew. All that matters is that she probably beat us to that locker and took everything that was inside.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Ivar found it uncomfortable to ask Hvitserk that question because he truly didn’t want to know.

“Last night. She slept in my room.”

“Meaning you slept withher,” Ivar emphasized and rolled his eyes.

Hvitserk ignored his bitter comment.

“You know there’s something I still don’t understand.”

“And what’s that?”

“If you guys slept around so much, she could’ve easily taken the key when you weren’t looking. Why did she have to wait a whole fucking month?”

Hvitserk straightened up in his seat and looked at Ivar with a strange expression. “Uhh... Well... Before Y/N left this morning, she told me something...”

Ivar raised an eyebrow urging him on. “Go on.”

“I mean...” Hvitserk exhaled and grimaced slightly. “You really wanna know? I know you fell for her, brother...”

“Didn’t you?” Ivar deflected swiftly with a quick scoff.

Hvitserk shook his head calmly. “No. She was just great in bed. Although I can’t really blame you.” His tone was much softer than before.

Ivar glanced at the dirty dishes in front of them and wished with every bone in his body that Hvitserk would remove his eyes from his face so he could bask alone in his shame. “So, what did Y/N say?”

“She told me that she liked me a lot but that it was time we stopped seeing each other for good. Maybe... maybe she wasn’t ready to let go before?”

“Are you implying that she didn’t leave before because she fell in love with your pathetic ass?”

“Maybe... I don’t know.” Hvitserk heard Ivar's choice of words very well but he didn’t insult him back. He rarely took the bait anymore.

The fact that Hvitserk’s voice hid no hint of arrogance or pride anymore only made it worse because that meant he was being sincere.

“Or maybe...” Ivar spat back with animosity. “Maybe she was just a sadistic cunt that enjoyed playing with us until she got bored.”

Hvitserk shrugged. “Perhaps...”

“In any case, we need to find out where she is now.”

“So, call her!”

Ivar put a hand inside his pocket and clawed around until he produced his phone. He dialed the number and waited, fingers trembling with rage.

“You have reached a number that has been disconnected. If you feel this is an error, please check the number and try again.”

They exchanged a look, seemingly reading each other’s minds. Ivar threw a bill on the table and they hurried to get to their car.

Yet it was useless. They searched for her in her house but she was nowhere to be found. The neighbors swore they hadn’t seen her so they rushed to the car again until they reached their home. Even though they knew that technically, ever since Y/N signed those papers, everything they owned had ceased being theirs, nobody prepared them for the sight of the bare walls of their house.

There was a big crew working diligently to empty the mansion of all the furniture and art pieces. Their clothes hung from movable racks and every utensil, down to the most insignificant silver fucking spoon was packed in boxes.

“Ivar and Hvitserk Lothbrok?” A stuck-up-looking guy with a load of documents in his hand addressed them.

“Yes?” Ivar answered since his brother was too occupied staring ahead as if he’d fallen into a trance.

“Ms. Y/N Y/L/N sold your house and will be keeping all the profits since, as you know, the property belongs to her. You can come to collect your personal belongings at this warehouse tomorrow. Along with the deed to your new house.” He produced an ivory-white card with the name of his company on it.

“H-house? What house?” Hvitserk finally pulled himself together for long enough to stutter out a question.

“As this document states, this house is located in...” The real estate agent ran his index finger over the paper searching for more details. “...in Kattegat.” He stated plainly.

Ivar couldn’t believe his ears, his voice raising considerably high. “You mean, father’s abandoned farm in the middle of fucking nowhere? The one that smells like cow piss and pig shit?”

The man raised an eyebrow sternly. “Oh, so you already know the house, that’s great. Y/N specified that the cottage was to be your only part of the inheritance.”

Ivar took a shaky step back in surprise, his legs wobbling in the process when thinking about how that nasty hateful woman had managed to utterly destroy their lives in less than a month.

“Now, could you kindly exit this estate? You’re trespassing on private property. Thank you.”

~~·······~~

Y/N’s POV

Dear diary,

I realized last night that I had been avoiding taking the painting because I was afraid of what I could find. But it was time to face the truth and unfortunately, I also had to say goodbye to my boy toys.

It took me less effort than I expected to find that locker. I made my way to the biggest bank in the city and once there, everything was easy. I just had to show them the key and the inheritance certificate and they led me into a room where the big bulletproof box was set in front of me. It felt cold and lifeless. The metal walls of the room with no windows made me feel like a caged criminal. Some probably would say that of me, but I’m only reclaiming what I’m owed.

My restlessness was evident in the way that my hands were trembling and my legs felt spongy.

I popped the lid open and I saw that the box was almost empty. Just a few stacks of money, some pieces of jewelry, and two yellowed letters.

One was already open and I recognized my own handwriting. But the other envelope was brown and the writing had faded, barely readable anymore but I would recognize Ragnar’s handwriting anywhere in a pinch.

I took the first letter and eyed the familiar words.

~~·······~~

Dear Ragnar,

I hope you are doing well. I saw the contact details from your company in an ad. So, I decided to take a chance to tell you everything that’s on my mind since you disappeared overnight and I never heard from you again.

I know about Aslaug and her rich daddy. I know marrying her must’ve seemed like too perfect an opportunity to pass up but you owe me an explanation, Ragnar.

You know very well that all that you achieved at first was because I used my magic skills in your favor. When no one else believed in your dreams, you turned to me for aid. Don’t forget that it was me the one who helped you build your empire before you turned greedy and married that pale emaciated chick. And don’t forget that I was the one who satisfied your every addiction, with my herbs and with my body, just the way you liked it.

You once promised me that you would never leave me. That you would always be by my side.And then you failed me.

I’ll never forget how you told me that I was your Valhalla on earth.

So, I’m waiting for you, my love.

With love,

Y/N

~~·······~~

I wrote that letter years ago, just a few months after he left me and I’m still as empty as I was back then. My tears fell one by one on the sheet of paper and the letters in them dissolved. Reading these lines again hurt. I felt the same sorrow as I did then until my tears of sadness turned into tears of anger.

Then I blew the dirt away, read my name at the top of the second letter, and started reading with eager eyes and an accelerated heart.

~~·······~~

Dear Y/N,

I never forgot about all of those words. You were the best thing that ever happened to me but you have to understand that I had to think of things to come. I wanted my future sons to be the emperors of a world that I would carve for them. I wanted the Lothbrok name to go down in history. And Aslaug was a necessary part of it.

But I regret all of it now. I see that perhaps it’s best if they make their own path. I regret ever leaving you and I’m sorry for the pain that I caused you. That’s why I’ve decided to leave everything to you once I die, in the hopes that I can right the wrongs I did and that you will someday forgive me. Please, treat my sons kindly. They don’t deserve to pay for my mistakes. I know you will do the right thing and not leave them in complete destitution.

My heart will always belong to you, Y/N.

All my love,

Ragnar

~~·······~~

Ragnar thought that by leaving me all of his money I would forgive him for his abandonment. But even though I love him, I could never forgive him. He was a simple and humble farmer, but greed corrupted him; it made his soul fester inside. And when he left, my heart turned to ashes. I thought I could feel something for Hvitserk but I was wrong. It’s impossible for me to love anyone ever again.

Ragnar is still a coward to me. He just used me to get high, or whenever he needed a good fuck. He exchanged me for the pretty daughter of some wealthy art collector who would help him get access to the highest corners of society. In my book, that could only mean that he never cared about me at all.

He chose to discard me like a used doll as if he hadn’t spent the longest days in my bed, consuming every intoxicating herb and exotic potion that I put in front of him, and loving every second of it. Ragnar fucked the best whenever he was high, and lucky for me, in those days, he was always high.

I played the same trick on the boys I used on Ragnar. Seeing my naked body and perfectly rounded breasts always got him in the perfect mood and he could only focus on me, forgetting about everything around him.

He never wanted his new family to know about us because I was the one supplying him with his drugs and his good luck. But he never saw me as a necessary part of his life. I don’t understand why I had so much faith in him. How could I be so stupid?

Ivar and Hvitserk deserve to suffer. Since I can’t make Ragnar bend over in agony, they will pay in his place. I will call my lawyer and by the time they get home, they will be out in the streets.

I will never regret any of the things I did. They had to be done. Unfortunately, I will be too far away to see the stupid look on their faces when they realize that our old muddy farm, where Ragnar and I used to live when we were younger, is the only thing they will get to keep. Hard work and misery are the only things they will know from now on...

My name is Y/N, and this is the story of how I ruined the Lothbrok dynasty.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk x reader #kattegat

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