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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

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I'd die for you, come kill me

Kinktober Day 11: restrained

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

A/N: This one goes for my good friend followers celebration. So happy for your milestone, @msmarvelouswinchester! Divider by @talesmaniac89.

@stillintheimpala said: i have a fic idea. demon!dean stuck in a chair on handcuffed to a bed with those demon proof handcuffs. he's completely at your mercy. you get to dom him. (I put ropes instead of handcuffs because of the gif)

Prompt: Remember how I said I'd die for you.

Warnings: angry sex, p in v, riding, restraints, power play, smangst, angst, kind of hopefully ending (?), demon!dean acts like demon!dean

“Where is he?”

Sam sucked in a breath, moving his shoulder uncomfortably as he straightened his posture. The youngest Winchester's features contorted into a grimace, and you couldn't tell if it was because of the look on your face or him jarring his dislocated arm. “He's in the dungeon, but Y/N-”

“He isn't himself. I know that. Kinda noticed when he threw me against the wall and said he couldn't wait to rip my throat out with his teeth.” You gave Sam a humorless grin before you gestured to the wound on your shoulder. “This is a good reminder as well.”

“We'll cure him.” Sammy nodded at you, wrapping his words with faith and determination; he was always a believer.

You arched your eyebrows. “Then what are you waiting for?”

You two were still standing in the living room as Dean's howl rushed through the air. He sounded more like a beast than a man, yet he was smack dab in the middle of those polarized states. He was human enough to know where to strike and animal enough to relish in the attack.

Sam's gaze softened on yours.

“I know he hurt you. He hurt both of us, but Dean is my brother. I can do it alone. You don't need to-”

“Sam, he ran away once, and you just got your arm yanked out of your socket. You won't be able to fight him. You need backup,” you interrupted him. Despite your conclusion being completely rational, there was more to it than that, but Sam didn't need to know about it yet. “Besides, it's Dean.”

The hunter glanced at you. Gentle eyes watching your jaw harden, he pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay.”

Dean's demonic self had been throwing insults like a man feeding his dog shattered glass. He was full of them, not caring about hiding his satisfaction when he hits yours and Sam's weak spots.

A couple of seconds ago, he had called you an easy pussy that saved him the job of having to go out and get some. That display rewarded him with a thicker needle that pierced much deeper than it needed to. The pure human blood spread into his veins as a holy wash, like soap over a flesh wound. Dean growled in pain and went quiet for a while.

Your eyes abandoned the demon for once, directed now to his brother. Sam's earthy brown eyes were drawn in concern, mouth sketched into a frown. His healthy arm was onto his shoulder, obviously physically hurting.

“Sam, go. I can do it. It’s just two more needles. He'll probably pass out once it's done,” you pleaded in an attempt to catch Sam's rational side that always saw the order in chaos. His hazel orbs settled on you, and you knew he didn't want to leave his brother. You can't blame him for that. You didn’t either, but if Dean was in his right mind, he'd want that. And you needed some time alone with this demon version of your boyfriend. “Please.”

You didn’t know if it was something in your cracking voice or if the fact his brother regaining control meant he’d have even harsher words to spit, but when the tall man’s eyes swept from you to his brother and back, he sighed. In that moment, you knew he accepted it.

“If he doesn't pass out…”

“I call you right away. Don't worry, and please take some meds for your pain.” You offered some tenderness to him in the middle of the violence through a lovingly smile. In a matter of seconds, the only traces of Sammy in the room were the boot-clad clamor of his footsteps growing quieter and quieter.

“Now you have me all to yourself, sweetheart. What are you planning to do?”

The lopsided grin was still attached to his face, and those were still his teeth. Still, something about Dean's smile made you want to rip him apart with your nails. How did he let this happen? How did the situation escalate like this? How did everything get so bad so fast?

“Shut up,” you hissed through your teeth, boots clicking on the floor as you approached him. Dean glanced at you shamelessly; the pretty little bruise on your skin proving that he had succeeded in breaking you. It twisted his guts in both good and bad ways — the bittersweet contradiction among lovers.

“Feisty, huh? I always liked that on you. Who would guess that you were a bottom in bed?” Dean appeared to find your fury entertaining as if he relished any emotion he could instigate inside you.

“I said shut up.”

“Or what? You are gonna sting me with a flimsy syringe needle like I did to you with my cock? Go ahead, sweetheart.”

The idiotic nickname burned your insides. As your and Dean's relationship got more serious, he'd stop calling you that. You weren't just a fling or a woman he'd leave the next day, and the Winchester only called you that either sarcastically or during an argument now. Was this how the demon saw you? Just another sweetheart?

Dean smirked at your quietude, poking the bear once again. “What? Demon got that smart tongue of yours? It's embarrassing, really. You get all worked up, pretending to be that tough gal, but you can't hurt me. You didn't even fight back when I tried to kill you. How weak is that? You’ve always been a liability. Just another woman I had to protect to get inside her.”

You warned him, the words coming out more like a groan than anything else: “Shut up!”

Yet, Dean persisted. He had discovered your weakness, and he couldn't wait to see how much you could take. You'd end up giving in to him, thrashing headfirst into a fight, and he'd escape again. The demon was counting on that. “A waste of time, really. At least you had a nice pussy, but I scratched it open. It's useless now, just like you.”

The dismissal in his words laced with the cynical chuckle that left his mouth made you hit your breaking point.

“I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You grabbed a syringe and stung Dean like a scorpion, right in the jugular. He wanted to set you on fire? Good, you'd make sure he got burnt too. “I said I'd die for you. Remember how I said I'd die for you? And you tried to kill me.” You grunted, throwing the empty needle away. Dean's normally forest green eyes went black as howls of outrage escaped his mouth. The blood of saints that coursed through his body was a good way to either turn the beast into a man again or kill him completely. Knowing this, he screamed and struggled in the chair, as desperate as a rat stuck in a mousetrap. It made you doubt the cure. Perhaps a good thing couldn't save him now, the whispers of sulfur that colored his heart black too intrinsic to eradicate without killing the host. You couldn't bring yourself to care about it now. The demon was suffering, and he deserved it. You wanted your own hurt ricochet back to where it came from: him. “Now you are sitting there talking about me like I'm your bitch or something like that, but I'm not. I can take care of myself, and I don't need you. I chose to stay here.”

Dean blinked, and suddenly everything was in place again. His face softened like it usually did when you two were alone, and an actual smile conquered his features. All the oxygen in your body caught in your throat.

“You're right. You are a strong, independent woman, and I should feel lucky to get myself a keeper like you.” His voice filled the dungeon with light-hearted relief. Your cheeks were hurting as you scooted closer to him. “I missed you so much.”

He was saying all you wanted to tell him the minute he left. Your eyes got glossy, and you threw yourself on his lap, clutching to him like devout patron to her bible. Dean was here. He came back to you.

A quiet gasp of praise left your mouth: “Dean-”

He interrupted whatever you were about to say, replacing your words with a kiss. A sweet one — sweeter than anything you might imagine. It was the kind of kiss shared for two lovers in the dark, recognizing each other’s bodies by touch alone. You, of course, allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of belonging. You shouldn't have. You should never just jump into someone, or you might drown. It's hard to find corpses in a black river.

Yet, your soul was tied to the righteous sinner, so you kept pressing your lips to his while he devoured your mouth softly.

“Sammy doesn't understand, Y/N,” he said. When he pulled away, you nuzzled into his neck. The heated tang to his murmured sentiments remained there, but his voice, less gruff than usual, fooled you. “I finally don't have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'm free. I never thought I'd be happy after that night…” Dean wore the façade, even gulping at the thought. He didn't know if it was because the human blood was slowly coursing into the core of his being, but he wouldn't waste time on it. “But I can now. We can run away together, leave Sam behind. Just me and you.”

What did you expect? He was a demon. The blame was on you for expecting repentance from the ashes of hellfire. This isn't a fairytale where the hero suddenly is hit by true love and everything is solved with the ultimate kiss. This is a hunter’s tale, and there's just one ending for those stories: the prey dying.

You lifted your head. “Dean would never leave Sam behind.”

Dean burst into laughter as if your hope was some sort of funny joke. He adjusted his hips in the chair, smirking at you with cruelty.

“Bet it almost got you. I could see your eyes shining with hope. You were ready to get on your knees and suck my cock. You’d be screaming Dean, Dean, Dean, and inevitably fall for some stupid lies.” He shook his head with disappointment. “You're too easy, Y/N.”

“Who do you think you are?” The indignancy in your tone only drew a malicious grin out of Dean. This was too good. He could feel his cock hardened in his pants. He might fuck you before killing you only to make good use of his time.

“I'm a demon. What about you? Oh, wait! I know the answer to that one.” He licked his lips, savoring the moment. “You're a little-”

Smack.

The palm of your hand met Dean's cheek harshly, transferring some of your anger into a red mark on his right cheek. The eldest Winchester's head was tilted to the side from the impact. He clenched his jaw before turning his glare at you, eyes back in black as he spoke: “You shouldn't have done that.”

Every syllable that left his tongue was imbued with a threatening crimson rage, but you didn't care. Not now.

You weren't scared of him.

“You shouldn't be a demon, but here we are,” you remarked, summoning a smarmy leer and wearing it like one of his flannels. “Shut up. I know you're not my Dean. You are just all he hates in himself wrapped with his skin. You're disgusting, cruel, and selfish.” It didn’t make any sense for your body to be as heated up as it was, but it was. And Dean didn’t care. Fuck him. “You’ve spent so long aiming at our Achilles’ heel that you forgot you have yours too. Stupid.” You chortled, grinding your hips on his. At this point, both your panties and emotional stability were ruined. “Look at you, all hard for the girl basically torturing you with poison, huh?”

“You-” He attempted to speak, to put you down so he can climb over you. You stopped him with a hand inside his pants.

“Language, Dean,” you groaned at him. It wasn't unusual for you and Dean to blow off some steam with sex, either after a fight or a hunt, but, this? It’s a whole new level of fucked. Yet somehow, your pussy didn't seem to mind, and neither did his cock. You got his length free, and his stiffened cock slapped his clothed belly. “I don't wanna hear something that makes me angry because if I get mad, then I won't let you come inside my pretty pussy. Understood?”

He groaned in response, trying to move his hands to show you who the real alpha was here, but the rope kept him in place. Silence lanced through the air because you knew you didn't want to waste time on something as exciting as foreplay; he did not deserve that, and you didn't want this. You just lifted your red skirt and slid your panties to the side. Your pussy swallowed his cock painfully slow.

The demon that ate your lover didn't offer mumbled protests at the fact you were still wearing clothes. Your Dean always tried to get any piece of fabric away because he liked to see all of you. This Dean, though, gulped and glared at you. Pleasure flushed his cheeks only he can’t deny the physical pleasure. It’s clear that, even as a demon, he could never reject the carnal appeal of your body and your sweet, soaked pussy. Hands pinned behind his back with the restraints, you two in the middle of a big demon symbols on the ground, he was completely at your mercy. He was helpless.

Dean bucked his hips to get all of his hardness inside you right way, to show both you and himself that he still had the power here. You barely blinked before moving your hips up, restricting him further entrance into your cunt. Dean was always eager when it came to sex, but you knew this wasn't about just fucking you anymore. You were in control.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you murmured in an increasingly sultry bite: “I'm the one making the rules here. Take it or leave it.”

“Fucking a demon? That's why you told Sammy to go with all the crap about caring for his arm?” the former hunter remarked. You and he both knew Dean wouldn't — couldn’t, not with half his cock being squeezed by your tightness — leave your pussy, but he still very much had the capacity to bite.

“Unlike you, I worry about the people I love.”

“I don't love,” he snarled, watching you swallow the malcontented lump in your throat. “Hear that? I don't love you.”

“Then at least be useful and fuck me,” you groaned, finally resting wholly in his lap with all of his dick inside of you. Dean whimpered, overthrown by the sensation of your heady tightness encompassing his cock. He tried to break free again, starved to grab your thighs, your ass, any part of you he could get his hands on, but the rope limited his range of motion. The raw polyester and nylon mix around his wrists was a contrast to the warmth of his lap. His eyes closed, blinking only back into wakeful blackness because of your promise disguised as a hissed threat: “No, forget it. I'll be the one fucking you.”

There was something delightfully mercurial about the way you rode Dean. The dungeon once filled by his pained screams had now become the perfect studio for your flexing thighs slapping against his, your breathless moans camouflaging the raw hurt of your heart, and the unique sound of Dean's cock sunk to impossible degrees inside your needy cunt. He leaned in for more.

This was no longer about the sexual release for him. It was for the tiny part of Dean that always craved an order to follow. It was the small piece of him that craved carrying the weight of responsibility heavy on his back like the burden Atlas had to bear. It was the liberation of the heavy chains that held him down since he was a child, even if his hands were — appropriately enough — tied behind his back. As a demon, he didn’t have to worry, and neither did he when submissive to you. For you, it was expelling your revenge on this devilish version of the man you loved. He had it coming.

“I hate you. I hate having to save you. I hate caring about you.” You huffed, nails sinking in his clothed shoulder. The ghost of your touch was enough to make his dick twitch inside you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the goosebumps rose your spine, and every time you sunk on his cock brought you closer to collapse. All Dean did was to praise your name with a moan. “I hate how good you feel inside me.” You sobbed, increasing your rhythmic and going fast and rougher on his cock. Your walls were tightening around his dick. Your untouched clit rubbed against the fabric, but it didn't matter. This wasn't about pleasure. “I hate that it’s you and not him.” That's not my Dean.

That caught his attention. Dean’s shoulders grew rigid. He was ready to catch a glimpse of warring emotions of hatred and disgust on your face, but he wasn't prepared for the crushingly forlorn refraction of loss and dispair he found there.

The knight of hell should feel satisfied. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Destroying you, turning the woman the human version of himself loved into a walking catastrophe so you wouldn't dare bring him back.

Apparently, the priorities changed. Maybe the blood was really effective, slowly disintegrating his armor into flesh again. It was the only explanation for all the humanly emotions he was experiencing.

Dean felt the conflict building as if hurting you was physically tearing him apart. His eyes contracted into livid green again, shining like the moon with tears he didn't dare drop. He was still a demon, bratty heart or not.

Yet, there was only so far a man could control himself. His lips were treacherous for your name, echoed more like a plea than anything: “Y/N-”

“Shut up! I don't wanna hear your voice. You said I'm your little bitch, nothing but a whore to you, huh? Guess what, asshole. You are my bitch now, and you’re gonna like it.” The little monster in you hummed happily to your authority, glad to finally punish someone for the incitement of agony inside your guts. You closed your eyes, riding Dean ferociously.

Dean Winchester might have been a cage to your feelings, but at least it was golden.

You said you'd be here. You said you wouldn't leave me. Your thoughts corroded your wearied heart as you tried to fuck them away with Dean's weeping cock. You could feel he was close, and you were constantly hitting your G-spot with eagerness, your sweat and harrowed feelings gushing over. You said I didn't need to leave. You said we'd find a way through this. You lied, you lied, you lied.

I trusted you, and you destroyed me. You hurt me and Sam, and I can't even blame you for it. He knew all your enemies started out as friends. He knew how much it would hurt you if he got the mark. He knew how it would break you if he said those words, demon or not. And you know you can't put this blame on Dean’s shoulders, but you were suffocating and needed fresh air. The sacrificial game wasn’t always a virtuous act. So, you dropped yourself down hard, appreciating the way his cock hit the right spot over and over again. It forced your body to feel good despite your restless mind. I hate you. You made me go crazy. And I miss you.

What was the saying? Man makes the promise, and the demon makes him break it.

Dean's fixated you. He wanted to get free of his cuffs and cup your cheeks, see you lean into his touch so he could wipe away the tears that started to fall and haven't stopped in minutes. He wanted to tell you he was here, not completely, but he was here. He wanted to apologize and make it better, but he didn't. His white skin was burning red because of how hard he was trying to move his hands, hair moving by your movements and his. The semi-human groaned like the remainder of the beast clutching his strings when he hit his orgasm and spread his seed inside you. You whined like a broken toy as you came all over his cock.

It felt good, for a while. It was nice, feeling good.

You stayed there a little more, gaining control over yourself while he softened inside of you. Dean was doing the same in an attempt to stifle his human emotions from surfacing. He wasn't going to be weak anymore. He couldn't be because for once in his life, he hadn’t hated himself.

You coughed, using the chair to hoist yourself to your feet. His cum dripped from your pussy, dampening his still-clothed thigh. You sniffed, grimacing a little when you noticed that your face wasn't wet with sweat. You’d been crying.

That only made you madder at yourself.

“Fuck it,” you groaned, putting his dick back into his pants before zipping him up.

Dean smirked in a final attempt to turn the table and get on your nerves again. “That's what we just did.”

You didn't waste more of your heart on him. Taking the last needle, you sunk the devil into his sharp skin and pressed the plunger with all the fervor of pulling a gun's trigger. He screamed like the rush of humanity flowing into him was a shot to the heart.

Your legs were trembling when you threw the object away and hugged yourself, focused on Dean's fragile body in front of you.

He looked down, eyes shutting a few times as if he was waking up before lifting his head to look at you.

“Y/N?” His voice was back to its gruff drag, but it was carrying a strand of vulnerability and care that he had only ever directed at you. Dean frowned, confusedly watching you and the place around you both, not to mention himself. “Y/N, what happened?”

He didn't remember anything. He didn't remember the terrible things he’d done. He didn't remember the words said.

You gulped, the back of your hand pressed against your wet cheeks. “I'm going to get Sam.”

The demon may have gotten teary-eyed, but the human Dean was the one letting the tears slide down his cheeks as you turned around and left, almost running to get away from him. He didn't even know why.

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aleexdx · 3 years ago

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Okay... I haven't posted much on here before but this theory of mine has been sitting with me for months. So, I recently watched this video on YOUTUBE by Bob Wess or more like his entire Dean and Cas relationship breakdown. This man is obviously bisexual, so his opinion on how CW and executive's, is important, on the mishandling of the Supernatural finale.

youtube

I don't know how much the fans of the show or Destiel in general, on here researched about what exactly occurred to get the end we got. But one thing is clear to me - Dean Winchester and Castiel were meant to be together romantically. No matter what the bigots and countless of homophobic pieces of shit say about it.

There was a market research done in earlier seasons in Supernatural season 12-13, on the topic of Destiel and the show as a whole. It ended up being a disaster though, there are way too many Conservative and religious fuckers who are still watching the show for some forsaken reason.

They didn't get the memo that from the very beginning of the show, Supernatural has went out of it's way to make fun or even mock the religious crowd. Eric Krippke didn't seem to be all that Christian since season 4-5 of his era literally made the angels villains. The only exception being of course Castiel, who got such an overwhelmingly good reviews that they decided not to kill him in season 4.

Anyway, now after so long I decided to come give my two cents on the mess that was Supernatural 15x18. I believe that in season 12 when they killed Castiel, only to bring him back next season 13 ( because obviously ) there was something happening behind the scenes.

The first episode of Supernatural season 13 is literally Dean being wrecked about Castiel, going through a widower arc basically and being ready to die. It was quite hard to watch too for many reasons, but then after Cas returned the only thing Dean managed was to give him a hug?! It was quite a lukewarm reaction compared to the utter despair literally last episode, which from what we know now is understandable.

Since, the results of the market research came so badly, they gave up on ever making Dean and Castiel canon. You could literally see the build up to something before Castiel returned, so it's possible that they were building towards finally bringing Dean and Cas together into a healthy romantic relationship.

Why, are you asking? Well, the Empty's words to Castiel convince me of that enough with taunting him with these words ---

The Empty - ''I know what you hate. I know who you love. What you fear. There is nothing for you back there.''

Castiel's face is one of despair and shock, the implications behind these words obviously affected him enough to sting badly. Cas fears rejection and hates himself most likely which is just another subtle jab to those with eternalized homophobia. The Empty knows of his feelings and deep devotion to Dean, tries to wear him down enough to surrender and go back to sleep. Of course our beloved angel will never abandon the Winchesters, especially Dean who he knows is self destructive at best and downright suicidal at worst.

The writers obviously were going towards taking Dean and Cas to the relationship route, you'd be blind to not notice the signs. But in the end they chickened out and there were writers on the show who were homophobic and cannot imagine Dean being bisexual despite all the prove to the contrary.

Misha was fighting for a confession to at the very least get something but in the end the team of writers and editors cut out so many parts to make Dean look homophobic. I hate what they did to Dean, who already gets so much hate from Sam fans, and think he's a poison and is bringing down Sam from going further.

Well, the finale proved that too by making Sammy quit hunting after Dean died unjustly (Dean Winchester deserves the world) for which I can rant for hours on end. In the end WINCEST won, by being the only ship whose characters were alive till the very end. I'm sure there is fanfiction of Dean and Sam shagging in that stupid barn instead of Dean dying. ( ew )

Ugh, Dean and Castiel could have had the most beautiful and layered build up in the history of EVER, but instead we got bury the gays and Dean dying for no reason. I hate how there's people out there who despise Supernatural now, because of the out of context scene in 15x18. In context isn't much better, but people who have never watched the show don't know of the deal Cas made to save Jack.

Yes, I know there was a lot of queerbaiting in the beginning and season 8 of Supernatural is very gay and all that but still... ! I mean, why even make it canon when you don't even do it good?! Just finish the show without bringing this one too, people will be angry about it but the anger will be kept in the fandom at large. But at least then you have the possible end of denying that they ever loved each other by calling fans crazy, just like the writers have done for years!?

Oh YES by the way - FUCK Andrew Dabb!!! Hope he and all the homophobic fuckers rot and don't see a good day. SUE me if you want, I'm broke and have nothing to give or provide.

#Destiel #supernatural #Youtube

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tintentrinkerin · 4 years ago

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Harness & Spears

Interlude: Collision Course

Chapter warnings: brotherly angst, brothers fighting

Read under the cut or on AO3

When Sam enters the kitchen, he knows Cas and Dean are there, too. He heard them having an argument about what happened in the spa room, like it’s their business what Sam and Jack do. He feels the need to tell them it’s not. Plus, he’s angry. No, furious.

Cas and Dean turn around, like they’ve been caught, and that’s exactly what’s happened. Cas gives Sam a tired smile, but Dean tenses and folds his arms across his chest. Biceps twitching, lips pressed together.

“You done with the kid?” he asks.

It’s already an open attack and Sam would love to shove Dean against the next wall, but that won’t help. It will just fuel Dean’s self righteous bullshit.

“Jack is no kid. Why were you creeping around the swimming pool? Our clothes were there, music was turned on, and I know you can hear it in the hall, too. You knew we would be in there. Why did you have to scare him like that?” Sam starts.

Dean’s eyes narrow.

“He is, how old again?” he turns to Cas, “Cas? How old is Jack? Six?”

Cas looks very uncomfortable now, he obviously doesn’t want to be involved in the brothers’ fight, which is understandable. He gets up and looks at Sam, apologizing silently.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean asks, voice a lot louder now.

“Hey, leave him alone. He has nothing to do with your petty behaviour!”

“I’ll be in the library,” Cas mumbles and then squeezes Sam’s arm on the way out.

Poor Castiel. Dean has been giving everyone a hard time since Jack and Sam started to bond romantically and no one really deserves it. Sam wants to understand why, because there’s just no satisfying explanation for Dean being like this. He’s mean to Jack, he’s even responsible for some of the danger Jack’d gotten himself in - okay, given, Jack used to behave very much like a rebellious teen, but he’s changed fundamentally there.

“He is a fucking kid, Sam!”Dean yells now. But Sam won’t back down.

“He’s the former God! He’s been the most powerful being on Earth for two years, he’s created whole new universes! And by the way, he brought back your precious angel boyfriend who happens to be millennia old. Don’t you think that we shouldn’t apply our human concept of age to beings that could smite us with a snap of their fingers?!”

The air between them would have crackled if glares were electricity. Sam is loud now, and he knows his yelling can be heard all over the bunker. But he doesn’t give a single fuck about it, Dean is antagonising him and he knows it. He likes to act like he has the moral high ground here, which is funny considering he’d called Sam a prude, and more, when Sam was unable to admit his feelings for Jack. Dean was the one to go after him because of Jack’s feelings. Dean knew Jack was into Sam way earlier than Sam. And he knew that Sam was into Jack. He made Jack install that app to meet up with shady gay guys from the internet. Why is he so spiteful now?

“That has nothing to do with what you do. He almost got himself molested and killed, that was barely five weeks ago! Don’t you think it’s gross to lust after a kid who looks up to you? Who adores you? And who sees you as a father?”

“That’s idiotic and you know it. I looked up to you when I was a child and-”

Sam stops. He had thought about Jack exactly the same way just a couple days before Gilead happened.

“You looked up to me, I would’ve never touched you!”

Dean bites his lip and it would be just a matter of time until they’re bloody.

“Stop comparing mine and Jack’s relationship to our relationship. The comparison has some fatal errors and you know it.”Dean’s fists clench and unclench and the look he gives Sam is downright hateful. But for what? “What is your fucking problem, Dean? It’s not that Jack is young in ‘earth years.’ Tell me.”

“Shut up, Sammy. Just shut up or God help me-”

The use of the nickname stings Sam. He knows Dean will spit his venom all over the place and keep ruining any private time Sam might have with Jack, Sam can feel it in his guts. He’s like that. He won’t stop. And Sam can’t let that happen. Jack is fragile in his youthful longing and raging hormones. The unfolding love between them –it’s precious to Sam, because he hasn’t felt like that in years. Free of Chuck’s plans, free of hunting, free of the constant threat to their lives. And he’d certainly loved no one more honestly than Jack in years. Maybe Jess. And of course he loves Dean, no matter what. But the love for Jack and the love for Dean are two wildly different things.

“God help you – what? You gonna hurt him? Hurt me? I’d like to see you try. But I think it’s better Jack and I take off for a while, do some hunts on our own. At least the maids will pay attention to a notice on a door that says ‘do not disturb’.”

Dean grows bright red in the face and his mug, filled with coffee, flies across the room and smashes on the wall. His chest is heaving and… are his eyes just glassy or is he crying? What on earth is wrong with him?

“Yeah, go, Sam. That’s what you can do best. Run away when things get uncomfortable for you!” Dean hisses.

Sam looks at him, disappointed and shocked about how nasty Dean can get. He thought Dean really meant it when he apologized to Jack earlier and seemed to be supportive, in his own quirky way.

“I’m not dealing with this,” he says and turns around.

Something clatters behind him but Sam doesn’t look back, even when Dean yells, “Yeah, I guessed that much! You’re a coward, Sam!”

Sam knows he’s not, he’s just too old for getting shit from his big brother, especially when he tries to play the morals card. Dean has no right to talk like this. It will be better if Sam takes Jack and just travels somewhere for a case.

When he passes the library, he sees Cas, who’s deep in a spell book, but he looks like he’s daydreaming and it’s not a good dream. Why does he put up with Dean’s bullshit, really? This can’t be healthy.

Back in his room, Sam shuts the door with a thud and a loud sigh. He’s tired, he’s exhausted. Jack is lying in his bed, wrapped in a fluffy purple blanket. He looks like the saddest burrito in the world. When he hears Sam approach, he turns around and looks at him with big, blue teary eyes, there’s not much else visible except his eyes and some blonde strands of hair.

“Hey, baby,” Sam says lovingly, and undresses. Gets into bed to Jack and hugs the whole angelic wrap. Jack sniffles and leans in, his nose is close and tickles Sam’s cheek.

“Are you okay?”

Jack nods. “Yeah, ‘m okay,” he whispers. “I missed you. Did you bring something to eat by any chance?”

Sam shakes his head.

“No, I’m sorry. But we can go get you something.”

“I heard you and Dean fight.”

Jack looks up and he unwraps a little, strokes along Sam’s chest. It feels so good to be with Jack, he feels loved. Wanted. And it feels right. No matter how young Jack is. Sam needed to make sure that it was the right thing, because he felt that Jack might just have a harmless crush, Sam might be a puppy love. Then he had Aurora. Gilead happened. This topic still isn’t over, Jack doesn’t talk much, but he must’ve been scared to death in there. Since he came back, accompanied by Cas, a year ago, he didn’t use his angel powers anymore, because he wanted to live as human as possible, but still be able to defend his family. It hurts that Dean seems to be still against him, after all that Jack has done for them.

“Yeah, we had a fight. I don’t know what’s gotten into Dean, lately… I told him I would take you on a hunt. Would you like that?” Sam asks and then gently kisses Jack’s forehead.

Jack trembles.

“Yes, I would love to do that. Just us?”

“Just us,” Sam confirms.

“We would be all on our own,” now, Jack sounds dreamy. “Another massage… maybe?”

Sam laughs softly. “Yes, another massage. And no one to disturb us.”

Jack peels out of the blanket more and more. He’s naked underneath, his body hot and his skin soft and he smells still of the massage oils. Sam can’t look away, Jack’s pale body is just beautiful, and how Jack isn’t hiding any of his arousal and excitement… Sam never had a more honest lover. The raw pining is not just flattering – it’s blatantly arousing.

“When do we start?” Jack asks.

“I’ll research a case, maybe more than one, and we’ll take some time off.”

“Should I pack my bags?”

Sam holds Jack close, breathes in deeply and kisses along Jack’s shoulder, down his biceps. Jack shivers. Again.

“Tomorrow…”

What Sam needs right now, is Jack’s love and attention. And he needs to forget the tight knot in his guts that’s twisting and turning and making Sam feel sick to the core. Fighting with Dean is nothing he can just shrug off.

“Okay, tomorrow,” Jack replies quietly before rolling Sam on his back and crawling on his upper thighs.

When Jack’s trembling lips kiss down Sam’s chest and his hands start to explore, Sam sighs deeply and lets go of the thoughts that are on his mind.

“Good boy,” he praises and Jack moans.

Unfiltered responses. Damn. Sam is already addicted.

When he’s with Jack, so Sam believes, he can’t be broken.

#winkline #sin is sinning #rating: teen

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

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A New Song

Dean x Cas + Sam x Harry Styles

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: Schmoop!!!!

A/N: Rockstar AU, Part 3: the Destiel coda! This is absurdly self-indulgent and fluffy. I hope it makes you smile cause it definitely made me smile.

Credit goes to @fookinghelljensensthighs for all the Harry videos she’s made me watch and also the line about wanting to shake him sometimes!

Dean frowns down at his notebook, scratching out a couple words and humming the line to himself again. Rhyming “wait” with “too late” seems about as elegant as a fuckin’ anvil. He can do better.

It’s hard to say these lyrics out loud, even here in the privacy of his own living room. He can’t imagine working up the courage to sing them in front of other people.

One other person in particular.

He picks up his acoustic and strums the chorus again before rewriting “too late.” He fronts a rock band, for fuck’s sake, he’s not going out for the Pulitzer in poetry. If Sammy ever gets his lazy ass out of bed, maybe he can help. He’s basically a walking Thesaurus.

Dean takes a deep breath before singing it quietly: “It’s always been you, but I couldn’t ask you to wait, so the moment wasn’t right, and I think I’m too late.”

He sighs and puts down the guitar again, picking up the pen and twirling it between his fingers.

“S’nice,” he hears.

“Fuck,” Dean exclaims, and jumps about a foot.

When he turns around, it’s Harry, of course, leaning against the doorframe with a half-eaten banana in his hand, smirking.

He asks innocently, “Sorry, did I startle you?”

Dean picks up his coffee mug with one hand and shoots him the bird with the other. “Eat a dick, X Factor.”

Harry raises his eyebrows and then eats the rest of the banana in one obscenely large bite, which… yeah, okay, Dean deserved that.

Harry sits in the armchair opposite Dean, chewing slowly, with a pensive look on his face.

“Has Cas heard it?” he asks eventually.

Dean almost spits out his sip of coffee, but recovers quickly. “No. It’s not done yet, I’ll play it for the rest of the band when there’s actually something to hear. Probably won’t finish it, anyway. Been working on it for a long time, still don’t know how it should go.”

“Does Cas… know?” Harry asks, lazy and blank-faced. It’s the demeanor he adopts when there’s a camera aimed in his direction and the interviewer has asked a particularly pointless question.

Dean scowls. Harry just waits, impassive.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dean mutters, a few seconds too late to be plausible.

“Well,” Harry says, and there’s an interminable pause before he continues at a glacial pace: “It’s... about Cas, isn’t it? The song.”

“No,” Dean snaps reflexively.

Harry blinks at him a couple times.

“Don’t give me the fuckin’ cow eyes, Timberlake,” Dean grumbles. “Save it for Tiger Beat.”

Harry gives him a sympathetic smile, one of the ones that’s practically impossible to mistrust. He’s so goddamn likeable sometimes. Dean really wants to hate him for it.

Dean opens his mouth and shuts it again, then takes a drink of coffee. He clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Can’t you take a fuckin’ hint?” he says, but there’s no bite in his voice.

“How long, then, mate?” Harry asks, half-laughing.

Dean sighs and hides his face in his hands. “As long as I’ve known him.”

“And… does he know?”

“It’s complicated,” Dean mumbles.

“Shocking,” Harry says lightly.

“We almost got together, a few years ago,” Dean admits, frowning down at his own hands and picking at a hangnail.

“What happened?”

Dean shrugs, trying to hide the bitter edge in his voice. “I was a fuckin’ mess. Drinking too much. Scared shitless, too. So I pushed him away before it could get real. Before I could fuck it up.”

“And?”

“He almost quit the band,” Dean says hoarsely. “But he stayed. I think he was waiting, for a while.” He hasn’t said it out loud before, not in so many words. He can’t meet Harry’s eyes.

“For what?”

“For me to get my shit together, I guess. And… the right moment, maybe.”

Dean thinks back to the times they not-quite-talked about it, the way he’d mumbled about it in vague terms, cushioned safely in generalities: “Maybe when I’m better, but I can’t have a healthy relationship right now,” before he sobered up. Then, “Maybe when the band is a little more established, when things aren’t so fragile… when things aren’t so crazy, when we’re not touring so much… maybe then I’ll settle down.”

Harry’s expression is completely neutral, non-judgemental. “And you’re afraid to come out,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Charlie’s always been out, it’s not like -”

Harry cuts him off quietly: “That’s not it.”

Dean knuckles at his eyes and huffs out a breath. He really didn’t want to talk about the big fuckin’ rainbow elephant in the room.

Harry’s been dodging questions about his sexuality for so long he acts like it’s a sport. He and Sam could win Olympic gold in doubles’ Evading Labels. Still, the media is going to catch on one of these days.

“It’d be different if it was all of us,” Dean says reluctantly. “I don’t want to spend every fuckin’ interview talking about where we each fall on the fuckin’ Kinsey scale, alright?”

“So don’t,” Harry drawls, with a careless shrug. “If the music is good, it shouldn’t matter.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dean says sharply. “Have you ever made a record that didn’t go platinum?”

Harry’s expression goes cold and unreadable for a moment. Then his gaze falls, and he’s silent for a moment, picking at a chip in his bright green nail polish. He looks exhausted, suddenly, and Dean’s reminded of how much of his life this kid has spent carrying the burden of other peoples’ expectations.

“It’s not,” Harry says, voice barely more than a whisper. “Never has been. Easy, I mean.”

“Shit,” Dean mutters, by way of an apology.

Harry shrugs. “Not the point, though. Nothing’s easy. No such thing as the right moment for falling in love.”

Dean takes a sip of his coffee, trying to think of something flippant to say. It’s too fuckin’ early for this kind of honesty.

All he can manage is, “You guys seem happy, though.”

When Harry smiles, really smiles, it’s like kittens and sunshine and goddamn ice cream sundaes radiate out of his face, the annoying little fucker, and Dean can’t help but smile back.

“When you… find the right person?” There’s a dreamy pause. “Worth it. Even the scary bits. And... ”

“Sometimes I want to just grab you by the shoulders and shake you, to see if that makes the words happen faster,” Dean says bitchily, but he’s still smiling.

“It doesn’t,” Sam interjects from the doorway, mid-yawn.

Harry stands up, wrapping himself around Sam and headbutting him affectionately in the chest. Dean would swear he’s part cat; Sam, who’s used to it, just pets him idly and yawns again.

“And? Are you going to finish that sentence sometime this year?” Dean asks.

“Mm, yeah. I was saying…” His voice is muffled in Sam’s shirt. “You think you don’t deserve it. Happiness. This kind of happiness.” He looks up at Sam and beams. “But you do. Everybody does.”

“Wait, what’d I miss?” Sam asks sleepily.

“Dean’s going to tell Cas how he feels,” Harry informs him. “And I’m going to make more coffee.” Without waiting for a response, he untangles himself and heads for the kitchen.

“I mean, I don’t - it’s not like - well, maybe,” Dean mumbles, his stomach swooping and swerving sickeningly like he’s on a roller-coaster. “Just… you think?”

“He’s right, you know. You think you don’t deserve it, but… ” Sam pinches the spot between his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Think maybe it runs in the family. I didn’t think I did, either. Still can’t believe it.”

It’s true; Sam still walks around with this perplexed, surprised smile, sometimes, like he’s waiting to wake up, even though it’s been almost a year.

“What if I fuck up?” Dean asks. His voice cracks embarrassingly.

Sam gives him a tired smile. “You’ve fucked up before. Cas loves you anyway. Always has.”

Dean feels like somebody just whacked him over the head with a two-by-four. He stands up on shaky legs and grabs his guitar.

“Now?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised. “Where are you…”

“You’re right,” Dean says determinedly. “Been waiting long enough. I’ve got a song to finish.”

#rockstar au #spn fic #harry styles fic #deancas #destiel

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amwritingmeta · 5 years ago

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15x08: The Family Thing

I don’t think I have a least favourite scene of the midseason finale, because it was so gorgeously structured, so instead let’s focus on all the good and the exchange between Sam and Dean is definitely top five goodness. Hot. Damn.

Not only because of what it means for the codependency, laying the bones bare, as it were, or what it says about Sam and Dean’s individual arcs, but there’s the Dean and Cas of it all to contend with as well.

Oh, yeah. I mean, there’s really no way around Sam and Eileen being used as an effective mirror for Dean and Cas. Either Sam and Eileen are underlining what’s missing between Dean and Cas (like when Eileen was a literal ghost and she couldn’t touch Sam) (visual narrative subtext much?) (in an episode where Cas was literally ghosting Sam and it was purely because of Dean’s actions) (actions that all began in Dean stating “You’re dead to me”) (yah), or Sam and Eileen act as a highlighter for what a balanced relationship should look like, as in this episode, for very obvious reasons. You know, because right now Dean and Cas need fixing. *the mind delights*

So, my loves. Spades out. Dig-a-dig-dig.

We start with Dean -->

--> and I love how he’s clearly had this on his mind for some time and he’s like “Is this the right moment?” and he just goes for it, knowing that it’s a little awkward for him to bring it up, knowing that Sam will most likely deflect, but needing to have it said, because he wants Sam to know that it’s okay, and more importantly, that he’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay without Sam there. Protect Sammy isn’t the begin all, end all anymore. Sam being happy, truly happy, in himself, is taking precedence and, through that, Dean being happy, truly happy, in himself comes chugging along like a glorious reward for Dean growing out of old patterns and embracing new ones. *so fucking pretty*

This has been coming since 13x20 and their final exchange in that episode, where Dean not only stated that he’s never really cared about himself or felt he matters, but where he refused to apologise for worrying about Sam or for protecting him, and all that speech did was end in Sam saying he didn’t take very kindly to be treated as a kid, demanded not to be kept in the dark (because oh does Sam know what it means to be overprotected by his loved ones), and insisted that they do what they do together and if they die, they’ll do that together too.

And that, finally, made it all sink in, properly, and Dean realised that all his protecting Sam had made Sam as protective of him. Sam had grown up in Dean’s image, following Dean’s lead, and adopting Dean’s self-destructive tendencies without pause because of it.

So Dean realised then that something needed to change, but how and what? Especially when Sam has had trouble letting Dean go, because Dean has noticed and we’ve all been made as aware of it.

Like with the whole Mal’Akh box situation and Sam confronting Dean, pushing him to fight, while Dean told Sam that Sam (and Cas) would have to let him go, if there was no saving him. This was the codependency at a breaking point, just as it is now, but way back around the midseason finale of S14, Dean had no way to gently push Sam into gaining the same perspective Dean’s had for a while now, because Dean gained that perspective through realising what holding onto old patterns meant for Sam. *external influence*

Dean became painfully aware of how Protect Sammy has become the toxic ingredient that could, most likely, end up in getting Sammy killed.

And Dean saw no healthy way of highlighting this to his brother without breaking his heart, yeah? Mostly because Dean felt Sam needing him, and the old pattern was difficult to let go of when Sam clearly was still relying on that pattern in order to know his place in the world.

But now. Oh, man, now. Now here comes a healthy highlighter. *Eileen you beautiful soul you!!*

Now for Sam’s reaction to Dean’s simple recognition of “Eileen did good” -->

--> which is immediate self-consciousness and looking like he’s wondering where this is going exactly, a touch of defensiveness there right away, because this whole situation worries him and he knows what he wants, but he also knows what he thinks he shouldn’t have, and here comes Dean, most likely about to confirm that he shouldn’t have it. (hence Sam’s “Oh SHIT” face when the bunker door opened last ep and Sam thought it was Dean) (because he does not expect Dean to be okay with it)

And then we get this gold -->

Dean: She doing okay? Sam: I guess. Dean: You guess?

So simple and yet so damn complex.

Firstly, Dean prods oh so gently. The “She doing okay?” really being a question of how close Sam and Eileen have actually gotten: how intimate is their relationship at this point, how much does Sam care for her and how much is she letting him care, is she confiding in him, is she leaning on him, is she letting him in, is Sam taking up space, does he want to?

And Sam deflects.

Because his reply of “I guess” is him not feeling comfortable talking about it, still unsure of where this is going exactly, and Dean calls him out on it, slightly amused by it, because he’s not stupid and he has eyes and he knows that, obviously, these two share a *cough* bond. Dean knows, yeah? But he also knows that Sam doesn’t know that Dean’s okay with it, which, again, is why this exchange is taking place. So Dean calls Sam out, deepening the prodding for an actual answer, and Sam gets properly defensive -->

Sam: If she needs something from me, she’ll tell me. We have an agreement.

Dean’s reaction to this statement is amazing, because Sam’s choice of words immediately focuses him.

He’s a laser, yeah? He knows his brother inside and out and I would say Dean reads between the lines without even having to pause, because this is getting at the heart of what he wanted this chat to get at: how Sam and Eileen are relating themselves to each other.

An agreement means communication, and communication about someone needing something from the other and being encouraged to ask for it, and feeling comfortable enough to promise to ask for it, means that they’re seeing eye-to-eye. That there’s caring there, for sure. And mutual caring at that. Which is why his delivery of his response is so laced with undertones, because Dean wants Sam to understand that Dean sees through this half-assed covering up of how meaningful this all actually is to Sam.

Dean: An agreement?

And Sam’s reaction face is epic-->

--> because he looks like he’s thinking oh here we go and you’re one to talk Dean like you’re gonna question me and my choices when it comes to Eileen when you and Cas aren’t even talking BUT this whole train of thought gets halted in its tracks by Dean’s next statement, yeah? Aw yes.

Because Dean looks like this -->

--> and says “That’s adorable” and Sam’s defensiveness is gone in a blink and we get the most gorgeous, wonderfully self-conscious smile of agreement that I ever did see because it is bloody adorable of them to have an “agreement” and Sam soaks it up that Dean sees all of the attached implications and is saying as much, relaxing at the fact that Dean is teasing him rather than lecturing him.

Gahhh. It’s so gorgeous!! Look at that smiiiiile!

And Dean’s enjoying seeing that expression on Sam’s face like -->

So happy for him.

*I cry you cry we all cry*

And then Dean goes serious, admitting that he was in too bad a place to talk about it, and yeah sure Chuck and Lilith and how do we fight God is all a dialogue-stated part of that, but also, obviously, there’s also Cas Cas Cas, I mean, Dean says that he didn’t want to talk to Sam about any possible romance between his brother and Eileen because he didn’t want to jinx it.

Like he was in such a bad place it made him actually believe he’d jinx things if he acknowledged them as viable, yeah?

Look at his... face. :/

(I remember a certain someone who once told dean that he didn’t see himself as good luck) (and this then gave dean the chance to tell him that he’d rather have him - cursed or not) (like get over this low self-worth bullshit already and realise that you are loved for who you are Dean Winchester) (because you love people for who they are so why shouldn’t they do the same for you??) (GAH!)

Anyway, now Dean’s out of that bad place of believing he’d jinx things, he’s in a better place, so now it seems finally he believes that him acknowledging a budding romance doesn’t mean him immediately bringing bad luck and wrecking that good thing.

Actually, this better place might actually mean that Dean can see how not acknowledging it would be worse for everyone, because he’s picked up on the egg-shell-walking done by his brother around the subject. Dean’s inability to speak frankly has made Sam afraid to even think about possibly pursuing something with Eileen, yeah?

Alright, fair enough, that’s conjecture aka headcanoning, but still. And shall we say it together?

What Beautiful Possible Exposition For Dean’s Reasons For Distancing Himself From Cas.

Dean keeping himself away from Cas, on the deepest levels, has everything to do with fear and worry and Dean still believing that the very touch of him corrupts. Yeah? He’s moving away from that now. Hopefully 09 will be the episode where he properly crosses that threshold from constantly thinking himself unworthy, to truly feeling he deserves to have good things happen to him without the ever-present conviction he’ll lose it all.

And then Dean goes in for the very final push, the very thing I believe he’s felt needs to be said for a while now: he ties Eileen right back to trying “the family thing”, because what Dean wants is a chance to clarify that he can see how what Sam has got going with Eileen is different.

And when Sam’s first reaction to trying The Family Thing is a “Yeah, me too. That’s not for us.” it’s kinda clear that Dean needs to clarify not only that he can see the difference, but that there truly is one, because Sam is really the one who needs to hear it, and acknowledge it, and believe it.

Sam making this statement is to let us know, and let Dean know, that yes, Sam is still holding onto the codependency.

What’s glorious to me, from a Dean perspective, is that he agrees with Sam’s assessment of their experience of the family thing not being for them with his response: “Not really.”

It’s glorious because the family thing was so wrong for him and it’s good to have him acknowledge this properly, letting us know he’s let that thought of “When I imagine myself happy, it’s with you and the kid” go (and of course I believe he did let it go a good while ago now but to have it in dialogue!) and then we get one of several heavy-duty callbacks this episode, when Dean reminds Sam about what Sam tentatively brought up years ago, asking Dean if he never wanted to find someone, maybe not to get married and settle down, but find someone who gets the life -->

Dean: But I’m just saying, if it was to work... Eileen. You know, she gets it, she gets us, she gets the life. ...She’s hot.

It’s delightfully ironic to me that Dean is the one who swoops in with the wide-eyed observations of how Sam should open himself up to the idea of a relationship progressing with Eileen, but on the other hand it’s completely understandable to me, because Dean isn’t in denial about his feelings for Cas.

Dean is extremely clear on his feelings for Cas, and that’s exactly why he’s staying away from him.

It’s not that Dean doesn’t know love or can’t recognise it when it’s right in front of his face. It’s that, right now, he’s shutting it out.

Because Good Things Don’t Last.

And the terror at losing Cas again, and being responsible, is overshadowing everything else, or so I’d like to think.

Losing Mary hammered this deeply rooted belief home once more: Dean can’t have good things. So all that gently building contentment Dean felt after 14x06 at having Cas around on a more permanent basis genuinely would set the alarm bells ringing, because clearly something would have to happen to shake things up, to cause more grief, to take it all away.

Losing Mary made Dean believe, more than ever, that it’s only a matter of time before he loses Cas. Again. And he can’t go through that. Again.

So rather inevitably, Dean’s fear of losing Cas has pushed Dean to push Cas away and it’s actually forced him to carry on without him, no matter how much it’s hurt him, Dean masking the pain with anger and defensiveness, and in a beautifully roundabout way managing to teach him the lesson of how he doesn’t actually need Cas in his life in order to be okay, but allowing him the insight of how he wants Cas in his life, because Cas brings the type of meaning to events that no one else and nothing else really does. *headcanon but still*

What’s clear to me in this exchange with Sam is that Dean has come so far in his progression that everything he’s saying to Sam he might as well be saying to himself. Truly.

And, again, we get the Sam and Eileen as Dean and Cas mirrors because, of course, the undercurrent of this scene is tied directly to this mirroring and Dean and Cas’ inability, especially in this ep, to even look each other in the eye properly. God, there was a lot of that. *splendidness* By having Sam and Eileen stand in as the Healthy Relationship Representatives, we get an idea of exactly how far away from this Dean and Cas are currently in the narrative and, more than anything else, it plants the idea in our heads of where we should want them to end up.

Moreover, this exchange outlines how Dean knows what makes for a healthy, balanced, equal relationship and, to me, exposes how much he wants that for himself, though he needs to cross that threshold and finally accept the truth that he deserves it, encouraging Sammy to go for that person who gets it, gets the life, the same way that Sam was trying to gently make Dean admit to wanting someone like that in S11.

Anyway, back to the scene and Sam is still deflecting, still not quite there, no matter how self-consciously smile-y talking about Eileen might make him. Sam is afraid of letting go of the codependency, Sam still clings to old patterns, telling himself it’s because Dean needs him, that this is what’s best for “them”, when Dean, now, is gently pushing for Sam to think in terms of what’s best for himself first, and them as a team second.

Sam rubs his forehead and is about to make a protest to this idea -->

--> when Dean stops him, because there’s nothing more to discuss, is there? Dean knows. Sam knows he knows.

Dean: All I’m saying is that you could do worse. And she could certainly do better. So much better.

Again, this feels like something Dean could just as well be saying to himself, right? And he keeps it light, but it’s still so telling. Not that he devalues Sam, because of course he’s joking about that, but if looking at that undercurrent, it’s like Dean’s lack of self-worth is unconsciously pushing him to put words to that feeling, pushing him to gain that perspective, so that he can knock it down once and for all and know that he matters, that he’s allowed to matter, that he allows himself to matter.

And the first step -->

Dean: I’m happy for you, Sammy.

--> is encouraging his brother to feel that way about himself.

Because letting go of the codependent behavioural pattern between them is key, for both of them, to live long and happy lives.

I find it lovely that Dean interrupts Sam’s second attempt at deflection, seeing through Sam’s own possible worries and concerns - brought on by fears that are so similar to Dean’s and are rooted in mistrust of himself and lack of self-worth rooted in that mistrust - to the heart of it, which is that Sam has been falling in love with Eileen pretty much since the day they met, and Dean’s not going to be the one to stand in the way of that, and he’s certainly not going to let Sam’s fears and worries, allowing for the codependency to continue, to stand in the way of it.

Dean’s final line of being happy for his brother (the use of Sammy instead of Sam is like a dagger to the heart it’s so gorgeous) turns Dean’s gentle prodding into a cattle rod, brokering no argument and rather meaning to serve as a push for Sam to make a move already. What’s he waiting for? Clearly Eileen feels the same way. Clearly.

It’s all subtle and breathtaking and so, so pretty. It makes me curious to see what we’ll get in 09, what will bring about that prayer (I honestly would love for them to end up in an argument that’s loud and full of sudden truths that they’ve kept bottled up for ten years) (without a love confession) (we could get a hundred callbacks that could lead into clarifications) (and that apology) (which the prayer is bound to be) and what the rest of this final stretch will give us.

As always, there’s so much to find in the subtext that it creates the most amazing part of this amazing narrative. Goddamnit. I do so love this show.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 years ago

Text

The Girl Next Door (Part 10) - Don’t Break

Summary: The reader takes Dean out on his surprise date and she feels herself growing closer to him. When she and Sam are late getting home one night that week though, Dean gets a bad feeling...

The Girl Next Door Masterlist

Pairing: Neighbor/Mechanic!Dean x baker!reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, medical emergency

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

Reader’s POV

“Jack,” you said the next day just after lunch. He was out on the front porch, writing down a few things on a list. “Whatcha doing?”

“I was working on copying over a few of those old recipes for you,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said, ruffling his head as you hopped down the step. “I’m busy with Dean for the day but you want hamburgers and hot dogs for dinner? Winchesters are making ‘em and apparently they come with bacon as if that’s surprising.”

“Sure,” he said. You stopped after a few feet, glancing down at the keys in your hands. “Go enjoy your date, sis.”

“Are you okay hanging by yourself today again?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’m good. I promise,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take another bike ride.”

“Alright. Be safe,” you said. “Make smart choices.”

“Go on your date, dork,” he said. You gave him a quick wave before you slid into your car, parking out front of Sam’s, Dean ducking outside and into the car with a baseball hat on his head.

“Ready?” you asked.

“For my surprise date? Been looking forward to this all weekend.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, laughing as you pulled him out of the passenger seat. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” you said, wrapping your arm around his. “I may have heard from a little birdie that Dean Winchester was quite the baseball player in high school and his favorite minor league team of all time is the Springfield Cardinals who just so happen to be playing a special game in Kansas City today which is like super close to Lawrence and guess who got us some tickets.”

“I haven’t been to a game since I was like, eight,” he said, smiling at you. “I...how-”

“Sammy comes over and hangs out when I bake sometimes while you’re at work. Eileen says social interaction and testing his memory is good for him. Apparently you also convinced Sam to jump off the roof of your shed when-”

“Forget that. This is awesome!” he said. “I’ve been wanting to see a game for years but never got around to it.”

“Well today’s your lucky day then, ain’t it Winchester?”

Dean was all smiles when you walked back to your car that evening, Dean tossing a ball up and down in his mitt you’d borrowed from Sam. He spun around and looked back at the stadium, smiling and giving you a hug as you moved to get in the car.

“This was great. I can’t believe I caught that foul ball and...and this was so awesome. Thank you. I never had someone take me out on a date before and you like blew it out of the water, sweetheart,” he said.

“Didn’t I tell you that you deserve nice things too, Dean?” you said. Dean leaned back, eyes flickering around your face.

“I don’t remember the last time I was this happy,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy to be honest.”

“You got a lot more happy days ahead of you. I promise.”

Dean’s POV

“Hm,” hummed Dean, plopping down on his bed that night, closing his eyes as he faced the ceiling with a smile.

“Have a nice date earlier?” asked Sam. Dean didn’t bother to open his eyes but nodded, Sam slipping inside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off her at dinner tonight.”

“She took me a on a date today and it was so thoughtful and simple and fun,” said Dean, throwing his arm over his face. “I sound like a teenager.”

“I remember you coming home and talking about girls when you were a teenager. Never quite saw this reaction though,” teased Sam. “You know, Jack and I talked tonight and if you two want to ever go out you know, not on the weekend, Jack doesn’t mind sticking around here, keeping an eye on me. Hopefully I get cleared on Friday to start staying home alone, watching TV again.”

“We’re like the misfits,” said Dean, smiling under his arm. “We got brain trauma, relationship issues, workaholic tendencies, mental institution stays...us four are like a soap opera. Not to mention you’re falling for your nurse.”

“I was thinking of going out on my own date soon, depending on what the doctor’s say,” said Sam.

“Good for you, Sammy. Jess would be proud of you,” said Dean, moving his arm away. Sam nodded, fiddling with his hands. “She would be proud of you, Sam. I am.”

“Work’s a long way away for me again but...I’m not going back to the way I was. I’m not burying myself in it again. I want to pick Avy up from school and play with her, cook her dinner every night. It’s not your job to do those things for her. I think...I think I want to get away from the big business stuff, help the little guy. It’s why I signed up in the first place. You know, help people starting their own business and what’s involved, help people like Jack who didn’t know they were…”

“Being abused?” said Dean. Sam nodded, Dean turning his head. “I’m pretty sure he knew Sammy, after a while. But how low do you think he felt to not say anything? He probably thought he deserved it.”

“I talked to Gary at the firm for a little bit this afternoon. Obviously don’t say anything to anyone but there was another person that popped up from Bryerwood. If Jack’s ever ready to talk about it, I think there’s a real case there for him,” said Sam.

“Give him a little time. Maybe bring it up in a few weeks, see if he’s ready to talk about it again,” said Dean.

“He’s more relaxed now than when we first met him,” said Sam. “I think Cas and Y/N are really helping him.”

“You know how mom and dad used to fight about money a lot? We didn’t have the greatest example of a healthy relationship growing up,” said Dean. Sam nodded and lay back against the bed, looking over to Dean. “But I never for a second doubted that mom and dad didn’t love us. They were not perfect parents and dad and I fought more than once, pretty bad too. But they hugged us, told us good job for doing good in school, they never told me it was wrong to want to be a mechanic, they never told you that it was wrong to want to be the first Winchester to go to college.”

“What’s your point?” asked Sam quietly.

“Can you imagine how fucked up the two of us would be if our own dad didn’t hug us? Dad’s not a warm and fuzzy guy but Y/N and Jack don’t even remember getting a hug from theirs. He’s their dad. I’m just saying...maybe we’re luckier than we knew,” said Dean.

“Boys,” they both heard from the door, their father stepping around the corner. “Mom and I are going to head home if that’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thanks for hanging out this weekend,” said Sam. He nodded, John giving them both a smile. “You’re free to stay the night though. It’s getting kind of late.”

“No no, that’s alright,” he said, turning to head out. “Boys.”

“Hm?” hummed Dean, sitting upright, Sam doing the same.

“I know...I wasn’t a perfect father. I wasn’t even a very good one most of the time. Mom and I know we fought too much, took too long to sort all that out. Dean you were already a man by that point. We screwed up that part,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “But we have always loved you. Both of you.”

“We know that, dad,” said Sam. “We love you too.”

“Alright. Night boys,” he said. Dean waited a moment and followed after him, catching up with him on the front porch. “What is it, Dean?”

“I’m sorry I told you to stay away from him when Sammy was in high school,” said Dean, swallowing hard. John gave a quick smile, tilting his head. He cupped Dean’s cheek, running his thumb under his eye.

“Don’t ever apologize for that. It’s one of my worst memories and one of my proudest,” said John. “Sammy was better off without me for a while there. I’m sorry you had to be his father when I couldn’t.”

“I snapped at the hospital,” said Dean, pursing his lips. “A few weeks ago-”

“Dean. Don’t apologize for that either. Sam gave that authority to you to make decisions for him, not to us. He trusts you. He trusts you far more than he’ll ever trust me and that’s okay, Dean. You made all the right calls that night, all the hard calls. Sammy might not be alive if I were in charge. You knew how strong your brother was. You’ve always known. There’s no hard feelings, Dean,” he said.

“I…” said Dean, turning around, his father’s hand sliding to his shoulder when he heard a laugh in the air. Y/N and Jack were on her front porch, the pair of them cracking up at something.

“Parents mess up, Dean,” said John. “Even your friends parents I’m sure. But kids have a way of doing okay despite all that.”

“For all the times we fought and argued and said I hate you...” said Dean, still looking over. “Even when I thought you wanted me gone forever...I knew you didn’t. Way down but I knew. Those two over there...I’d take your parenting over what they had any day.”

“Call us if you need any help with Sammy, alright?” he said. “Any time.”

“I will,” said Dean, giving him a smile. “Drive safe.”

Five Days Later

“Uncle De?” asked Avy the next evening. Dean lifted his head up from watching the summer storm, Avy taking a seat on the front porch beside him. “Something wrong?”

“No,” said Dean, staring next door, turning his head. “So, you going to binge watch some movies with your daddy tonight? The doctor’s said his head is getting a better even faster than they were expecting.”

“We still can’t play outside,” she said with a frown.

“No but daddy can read you bedtime stories and play other games again the doctor said this morning,” said Dean, running a hand over her head. “And he can be home by himself so that’ll be good.”

“Are you gonna leave?” she asked.

“No, no. Your daddy and I talked and I’m going to stay here with you guys through the summer, maybe longer. He can’t drive a car for a long time so I’ll be around. Plus I like living here,” he said. “But you remember what I said about if Daddy acts funny when I’m not around?”

“I call you and go get Y/N or Jack next door,” she said.

“That’s right. Call me and we’ll make sure he’s okay,” said Dean, watching Y/N’s front door crack open. He frowned, Jack jogging over in his raincoat, dropping his hood when he hopped onto Sam’s porch.

“Hi Jack!” said Avy.

“Hey Avy. Can I talk to your Uncle alone for a minute?” he asked. Dean nodded and urged her inside, Jack smiling until Dean pulled the door shut, his face falling. “Y/N’s not home yet.”

“Yeah. I know. We had a date. She was running Sam to the store with her earlier. They’ve been gone a while,” said Dean. “A few hours now.”

“She’s not answering her phone,” said Jack. “Or Sam.”

“I know,” said Dean as he stood up. Jack glanced to the dark rainy night sky, pursing his lips. “Hey. Don’t freak. There’s a six year old on the other side of that door. She’s been through enough shit the past month. She doesn’t need more.”

“What do we do?” asked Jack. Dean stared at the front door and pulled out his phone.

“Hey Cas...can you do me a favor?...I’m fine, just Avy needs a last minute babysitter...Sam and Y/N went out earlier and they’re not home yet...I’m sure they’re fine...yeah...well I had this same feeling that night and...no, no, we’ll drop her off...it might be all night...it’s probably nothing...I owe you one...yeah, well, I still owe you one,” said Dean, hanging up the phone. “Alright. Go lock up your house and meet me back here. I’m dropping Avy off and we’ll go look, alright?”

Jack’s gaze went down to Dean’s phone when it lit up again with a different name, Dean following it. He’d spoken to them enough lately that he put the number in his phone.

County North Hospital.

Reader’s POV

One Hour Earlier

“So, you taking Eileen someplace fancy tonight?” you asked Sam on the way home from your shopping trip.

“Does Eileen strike you as the fancy place kind of girl?” laughed Sam. “But yes. Well, it’s casual-ish too. I was going to bring her to Winslow’s.”

“Oh, nice. I’ve never been but heard it’s yummy,” you said, pulling onto the highway. “I like that gray dress shirt you got. The one with the little charcoal specks. Wear that with some dark jeans, your black beanie, she’ll be all over you.”

“I just realized today was the first time in a month I went to the store, went anywhere besides our houses or the doctors really,” said Sam.

“Well no one said it’d be easy but you’re doing a lot better, Sam. We can all tell. You’re more alert, happier. Before you know it, you’ll be driving around on your own again,” you said.

“Thanks for taking me today...and helping with the clothes. Been awhile since I’ve been on a date,” said Sam, rubbing the back of his neck. “A work shirt is too formal.”

“I understand,” you said. “You got some casual but nice stuff. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see a Winchester boy pick out three flannel shirts though,” you laughed.

“We like our flannel,” said Sam, staring out the window at the dark edges of the road. “Dean really likes you, you know.”

“I really like him,” you said.

“I’ve never seen my brother this way with a girl. He trusts you. He doesn’t do that with girls. Not after the stuff his exes said,” said Sam.

“I’ve had this conversation with your brother before Sam. I don’t care what other people think of him. I care what I think and I think, he’s a really good guy,” you said, tapping your fingers against the wheel.

“I wish we could have been friends without me needing a whole horrible accident,” he said with a laugh.

“Life’s funny sometimes,” you said. “Jack’s gonna babysit tonight but I…” you trailed off, Sam suddenly jerking in his seat. For a second you thought he was having a seizure but he grabbed the wheel and turned it hard to the right as your brain registered what was going on in front of you. A tractor trailer on the other side of the highway was halfway through the median, jack knifed and heading straight for you.

It ended up hitting the back portion of the car thanks to the turn Sam did, not straight into the driver’s side which you didn’t really have time to be grateful for. One of your hands was out in front of Sam, the both of you jerking against the seatbelts as the car flipped violently. Your hand got hit between something hard and Sam’s head, most likely the dash if you had to guess. You shut your eyes and when you opened them, you were upside down, airbags deflating, glass and metal all over. Your body fucking hurt and you couldn’t see a thing.

“Sam,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt, some piece of metal or console pushed in so you couldn’t quite see him. “Shit. Sam, say something.”

You groaned when you dropped to the roof of the car, climbing out the drivers window. The truck was stopped and on it’s side. Both sides of the highway were backing up now. You couldn’t see all that great in the rain and the dark but you dragged yourself around to the other side of the car, Sam grumbling as he pulled himself out the passenger window.

“Sammy?” you asked, kneeling down and pulling him over to the front of the car and into the light from the head beams. You ripped off his beanie and looked at his head, Sam shaking it as he gave you a thumbs up.

“I’m alright. Head feels in one piece. At least I feel alr-” he stopped. You moved to lay him down into a recovery position but he just put his hands on his shorts and started fumbling with his belt.

“Calm down, you’re-”

“Your leg,” he said, ripping the leather out of the loops. You stared down, seeing blood. You were expecting it to be honest. Your leg hurt a lot and you knew there must have been a cut.

It was gushing though, the pins and needles feeling hitting you fast. You stared for a second while Sam slipped the belt on under your leg and around you, cinching it tight.

“Probably femoral artery if I had to guess. Could be popliteal too,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ah. Okay, that hurts now. The adrenaline’s wearing off. Shit. Oh boy. I lost a lot of blood in the car I think.”

“Chicks got more blood right? You’re okay,” said Sam, pressing down on your leg.

“Yeah, chicks got more blood,” you said with a laugh. “Learn that one in school?”

“Biology. Jess took biology. She was going for nursing. I thought she was cute, figured I better try to impress her,” said Sam.

“I’m probably going to pass out but don’t let go of the pressure if you can help it Sammy. I ain’t ready to meet her just yet,” you said. Sam nodded, putting a hand on you when you started to lean back. “Remember to tell them you had brain trauma and what medi...the uh...the…”

“Okay,” he said as you lay back on the ground, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Okay. Just hold on, Y/N. It’ll be okay.”

Dean’s POV

Present

“Sammy,” said Dean, giving Sam a big hug from where he sat in his hospital bed a few hours later. “I thought I told you I never wanted to see you in here again.”

“Since when do I listen to you,” said Sam, pushing Dean back. “I’m okay. Bumps and bruises. They did a head scan and everything. Really. I’m okay thanks to Y/N.”

“Y/N?” asked Dean.

“She had like a super fast reaction, shot her hand out in front of me, stopped my head from hitting the dash. I don’t know if she broke her hand or not but the doctor’s said it probably stopped me from cracking my head open,” said Sam. “You go and see her yet?”

“No. They won’t talk to me. I’m not family. Jack’s trying to get answers but she was his power of attorney or something and not the other way around so no one’s telling us anything,” said Dean.

“Hey. Go find Doctor Franks. I saw him not long ago. Ask him if he can find out for us,” said Sam.

“I will. Uh, Avy’s with Cas for the night,” said Dean, moving to take a seat.

“Alright. You go find out what’s happening with Y/N. I’m okay until mom and dad get here. Seriously, go get answers,” said Sam.

“Did...do you know anything at all?” asked Dean.

“...She was bleeding a lot. They took us in separate ambulances. I don’t know what happened after, Dean. I’m sorry,” said Sam. Dean smiled though and ran a hand over his head gently.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ll go find out what I can and let you know.”

Two Hours Later

“Here,” said Jack, handing a cup of coffee to Dean. He shook his head, Jack taking a seat on the bench beside him. “At least we know she’s still in surgery.”

“How are you so fucking calm about this?” said Dean, glaring at Jack. “She’s your sister.”

“I know she acts like she’s the older one a lot but she’s not. You’re not the only one that’s younger sibling was in an accident tonight,” said Jack. “And I’m freaking out. I’m just putting on a brave face.”

“Who for?” scoffed Dean.

“Same reason you’re sitting there bouncing your knee with that hard ass look on your own face. I deal with my shit on my own. I don’t cry in hospital hallways. I just don’t,” he said.

“Me either,” said Dean as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Text me if the doctor swings by.”

Jack nodded and Dean headed down the hall and for the elevators. He was familiar enough with the place and was quickly out the back door and across the parking lot, stepping into the woods a ways, finding the log on the ground that’d been there a month ago.

It was raining more now but Dean didn’t care. He still sat down and got wet, resting his head in his hands. He felt a shudder run through him as he took a deep breath and gripped one of his legs.

“Please, please let her be okay. Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her be okay. Please.”

Twenty minutes later Dean slipped back inside, wiping off his face as best he could, stopping in the bathroom, eyes a little red but he could pass it off as being tired. He stopped in the cafeteria before he headed upstairs with some hot chocolate for Sam and Jack.

Sam was sleeping in bed, their parents there with him now, Jack still on the bench outside his room, sipping on the coffee Dean had turned down. Dean nearly took a seat when he saw Doctor Franks appear around the corner, Jack up on his feet.

“She’s out of surgery. It went well. It was a clean cut on her leg so they were able to stitch her up. Muscle wasn’t damaged in her leg so she should be up and around fairly quickly,” said the doctor.

“What about her hand?” asked Jack.

“Bruised, swollen and wrist is sprained but not broken. She has a concussion but that was expected. A few bruised ribs too but the car took most of the damage for them both,” he said. “They want to observe her for the night but she can go home in the morning along with Sam. They both need rest and try to keep her off stairs and her feet for the next week or so.”

“She’s okay,” said Dean with a nod. “Okay.”

“Can we see her?” asked Jack.

“Once she’s moved out of post-op but I’ll come find you two when that happens,” he said. “This could have been much worse. Let’s be glad it’s not.”

“Thanks doc,” said Dean, taking a seat on the bench with a sigh.

“How does she not hate me,” said Jack, sitting next to him. Dean turned his head, Jack staring across the hall. “When I was overdosing, she must have been scared to death. And I did that to myself. This...this is terrifying, sitting here, knowing you can’t do anything.”

“Jack,” said Dean. “Let it go. You’re not that guy anymore. I know you’ll never scare her like that again.”

“No, never,” said Jack, staring at him. “I wish I could take it back.”

“You can’t, Jack. But you can move past it. I know you haven’t been home long but she’s going to need you to step up and be her big brother again. She’s going to need all of us to help,” said Dean.

“I can do it,” he said with a nod.

“I know,” said Dean, patting Jack’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You want something to eat?” asked Jack around three in the morning. Dean shook his head, sitting on the other side of the bed where Y/N was sleeping. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Dean gave her a smile when they were alone, running his hand over her head.

“Thanks for saving, Sammy, sweetheart. I owe you one,” he said. She stirred and sighed, nuzzling her head against his hand. “I’ll be quiet now. You sleep, Y/N.”

Reader’s POV

There was a slightly chemical smell in the air as you woke up, disinfectant that made your nose twitch. You blinked a few times, Jack snoring in a chair on one side of you, Dean laying his head on his arm, fast asleep, holding your hand in his. Facing forward you caught Sam with a few cuts on his cheeks, eating what looked like breakfast out of a styrofoam box in the chair at the end of the bed. He smiled and gave you a little wave.

“I’m guessing I didn’t die then,” you said, holding up your hand, seeing the bandages on it but no cast. You flipped up your blanket on the one side, spotting a bandage high up on your leg. “I’m also guessing your brain is still in functioning order?”

“Mhm. I live another day to eat crappy hospital food,” he said, wolfing down some eggs. “Always had good omelettes here though.”

“These two alright?” you asked, nodding to the both of them. Sam hummed around his mouthful of food.

“Yeah. I don’t think they finally crashed until like four or something. Our parents our passed out in my room. You want some water?” he asked. You nodded, Sam setting aside his food and grabbing the pitcher off the table. Dean shifted in his seat, rolling his head once the other way, turning back to you and briefly flashing open his eyes. They shut and flew open in the next second, your hand moving to run through his strands.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a smile. “Oh shoot, Sam. I bet your new clothes are ruined.”

“Told you she was fine,” said Sam, Dean’s eyes darting around your face.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said, gently running a finger over your cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a scratch or two,” you said. “Sorry I missed our date.”

“We’ll go on one tonight. I promise,” he said. You smiled and saw Jack wake up, a sigh of relief escaping him.

“Hey. You weren’t worried or something, were you?” you teased. Jack scowled, pointing a finger in your face.

“Don’t do that again,” you said.

“My driving was impeccable. Ask Sam,” you said.

“We just got shitty luck,” he laughed, popping a piece of hash brown in his mouth.

“So when can I get out of here?” you asked.

“Soon. Let’s maybe talk to a doctor first before you go wandering off.”

“Thank you for our date tonight, Dean,” you said from your bed, a pizza box between the two of you, a movie playing on the TV.

“Eh, near death ain’t cancelling our plans,” he said. You giggled, nibbling on another slice, his head resting on your shoulder. “Thanks for not dying last night.”

“Thank Sam. He’s the one that got his belt on me,” you said.

“You saved each other,” he said. He was quiet for a few minutes as you finished your food, wiping off your hands when you were done eating and turning off the TV. He sat up and moved the box to the floor, you rolling over closer to Dean when he returned, careful of keeping your right leg away.

“You okay?” you said quietly. He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.”

“You better not,” he mumbled. “Mine.”

“You don’t go anywhere either,” you said snuggling down against him. You shut your eyes, his long fingers moving the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He traced around a small cut under your right eye, gently kissing your other bruised cheek.

“Don’t you get hurt like that again,” he said quietly. You nodded, Dean tucking your head under his chin with his arm around your back.

“I want you to stay,” you whispered. You didn’t open your eyes but felt another kiss on your forehead.

“You sleep,” he said. “Wake me up if you need something.”

“Sam?” you mumbled.

“Our parents are there and you got hit worse than he did. I was staying no matter what,” he said. “Do you want some medicine?”

“No. I’m fine. Just want to lay down with you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, sweetheart. We can do that.”

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #au #mechanic!dean #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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elliot-orion · 4 years ago

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Sparks Fly Interviews: Hall

Up next, let’s talk to Hall, the Darkness Elemental himself!!

So Hall, how are you doing today? Not bad. The three of us went to visit my dad and Luci yesterday, and we’re just sort of lounging today. Sparky is whining about being bored, but that just means we’re going to have a good dessert later today. I hope he makes brownies again...

Sounds nice. Are you ready to answer some questions? Sure, I’ve got time.

How do you feel about your first name? How about your surname? I mean, I use my surname as my name for the most part, it’s sort of just a habit from when I was in the military, I guess. There was another Sam on the unit, but I hate Sammy so I went by Hall. Guess it stuck. Dad still uses Samuel because he’s just like that, and Luci uses Sammy to annoy me. So I don’t know, I like Hall a lot, but my first name is just kind of annoying at this point.

That makes sense. What’s one of your worst habits? I’ve got a lot of hair, and so sometimes in the shower I’ll just put one of the strands on the wall to get it off my hand, and I don’t always remember to use the shower head to get them off at the end. And, well... Scout hates that. I get yelled at for it every time, but I still do it. I grew up with a sister and a mother who did that constantly, and Dad never cared, okay, it’s just habit.

What would your ideal birthday look like? My birthday earlier this year was pretty perfect, I’ll be honest. Sparky somehow got me a special tour of the old books down at Yale College in Connecticut, and it was amazing. He says he’s bad at giving gifts, but he’s really not. After, Scout took me to this adorable used book store and I got all these new books and it was just amazing.

What is your dream job? I’m not sure. Maybe an English teacher? A small part of me wants to publish my poetry, but I’m too afraid to. It’s not very good, you know? But someday I’d like to try.

I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. What’s your favorite part about the other two? I think just how well we all work together. Scout and I... we weren’t doing great in our relationship before Sparky moved in, honestly. It wasn’t that we fought or anything, it was just... our relationship was just stagnating. It was frustrating because we couldn’t figure out why, but then Sparky came and it’s like things just clicked. Turns out all we needed was someone to push us outside our comfort zones a bit. So that’s my favorite part. How Sparky brings excitement back into our lives, how Scout’s need to plan keeps things structured enough that it doesn’t feel super chaotic, and just... we work, I guess.

That’s adorable. But how do you handle being angry? I do my best to hide it, I’ll go on a walk and get into a fight to burn off some steam. Sparky has bad experiences with angry people, especially angry men who are bigger than him, and I fit that bill, even if he knows I’d never, ever hurt him. And Scout’s anxiety gets really bad whenever there’s conflict, he usually starts crying and it just feels awful to know my anger is hurting them. So i’ll go out, take it out on someone who deserves it, or go home and vent to my sister.

Sounds healthy. What’s your favorite book or tv show? Seriously? You want me to pick my favorite book? Have you seen our apartment, I have more books than I can count and I love them all. No way can I pick a favorite. Though my favorite show is Downton Abbey, my dad made us watch it as a family. It was pretty good. Also, Avatar the Last Airbender. Because who doesn’t love that show?

Too true. Last thing. Pick a gif that you feel best describes yourself.

What? I do, and it scares people, which is excellent because I don’t want to talk to them. It works out.

Sparks Fly is Now Available!!

@mo-is-writing @shadow-maker @albatris @merigreenleaf @ageekyreader @ashesconstellation @scmalarky @norawritess @samplewriting @knightedwriter @piscesintherain

#sparks fly #launch party #hall #book party #book launch #writelr #writeblr #writing #amwriting #young writers #writers on tumblr #my writing #original writing

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atc74 · 5 years ago

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Glory of Love

Square(s) Filled: Free Space for Fluff, Vacation for BTZ

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, mentions of making love, mentions of the death of loved ones (SEE TEETH ROTTING FLUFF - I PROMISE)

Summary: Dean and Y/N get a few days to themselves and Dean admits some things he has felt for a while now, but was too scared.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 732

Written for: @spnfluffbingo2019, BTZ Bingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, my heart and soul who said this: “Okay, I want to say something about every single sentence but it's just so eeee! I have no words, only squealy sounds” I love her. A + A 4ever

A/N: I’m such a whore for cheesy 80′s movie love songs. This song (and movie) were released before a good portion of my fanbase was even born, but it is sooooo 80′s and wonderful. I usually run everything by @alleiradayne first but didn’t let her read this one before posting.

There aren’t many people in this world, living or dead, that I can say I have felt so deeply for. My parents, though one was taken from us too soon and the other was never up for father of the year, but I know he did the best he could. Bobby was more of a dad than dad ever was, and well, Ellen, I knew she loved us like her own. Charlie and Cas round it out. Sammy will always be at the top of that list and I knew I could never do this without him. I think back on all the women, but none of them can hold a candle to Y/N. Not even Lisa or Cassie. What I felt for them was real, but I always kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it did.

But Y/N? Yeah, the other shoe drops all the time, on apocalyptic levels, that’s the life we lead. But she understands and she knows the risks and she’s here with me anyway. We’ve taken a few days for ourselves, holed up in Rufus’s old hunting cabin in Montana. There’s no big bad on the loose threatening our very existence. It’s quiet for once and we deserve a vacation. The fridge is stocked, the cooler is full and my heart is fuller than I’ve ever felt before.

She’s sitting next to me on the rickety old swing on the front porch, watching the sun set slowly over the endless acres of evergreens. It’s clear to me now, as we’re both here, alive, healthy, and our relationship is thriving. There are so many things I want to say. I will always love you. I will never leave you alone. I think to myself, but I’m not sure if I can say the words. So I reach for her hand, entwining my fingers with hers. I see her glance down to where we are joined. She doesn’t say anything, just smiles and returns her attention to the setting sun, her head resting on my shoulder.

Sometimes I just forget, say things I might regret and it breaks my heart to see you crying. I don’t want to lose you. I could never make it alone. I want to say these things to her. I want her to know that I am going to forget an anniversary, I’m going to forget some things. But I’ll never forget the day I met her. I’ll never forget the look on her face or how I felt the first time we kissed. I’ll never forget the overwhelming emotions I felt the first time we made love. I know I can be an ass sometimes. I can be overbearing and overprotective with her, even Sam. But it’s my job to look out for my family. She’s my family now.

I will fight for her, I will fight for her honor. I want to be the hero she’s been dreaming of. She’s no damsel in distress and I’m no hero, but she makes me feel like I am. She makes me feel like I can do anything as long as she is by my side. Before my brain can register my lips moving, the words are flowing from my mouth and I turn to meet her eyes.

“You keep me standing tall. You help me through it all. I’m always strong when you’re beside me. I have always needed you. I could never make it alone,” I whisper. It’s just me and her and the crickets.

“And you’ll never have to. I’ll always be here to pick you up when you fall. I’ll be here to hold you when you need to let it all out. I’ll carry you when you need to rest. You’ll never have to burden the weight on your own,” she whispered back, squeezing my hand.

“I will always love you,” I vowed, leaning in to kiss her.

“I will never leave you alone,” she echoed, kissing me back.

The thoughts will always be there, but I won’t always be able to say them and somehow she just knows. It’s not part of my rough and tumble hunter exterior, it’s how I was raised. I swear from this moment forward, she will never have to guess what I am feeling for her. And I know in return, I will bask in the glory of her love.

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @seenashwrite @crashdevlin

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever @supernatural-jackles

#spnfluffbingo2019 #btz bingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x read #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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realm-sweet-realm · 5 years ago

Text

A Symphony of Nightmares, part 2.

I hope you guys enjoy this. I hope it’s not too similar to The Draw of The Pipes. Sorry it’s so long- I might split it in two for the AO3 version.

---

It was three weeks after downing the ink, and Sammy felt like hell. He supposed that it was just the ink doing whatever it had to for it’s cause, but right now, it seemed to want to give him stabbing pain in his head and tie his stomach in knots. It didn’t used to be this bad- he used to just feel like this, or least, almost this bad- after eating. Now- well, he’d have trouble keeping anything down. He would have gone for medical attention a week ago, and had run the idea by Joey, but Joey said that if he did that, they might be able to figure out their secrets. Sammy supposed he was right.

Sammy’s mind was swimming. Did this song he was writing even make sense? Sammy then realized that he was writing musical notes over the ordering form he had been filling out before he spaced out. If not medical attention, maybe he could use a day in the infirmary.

There was a knock at the door to his office. It was Norman. “Yes?” Sammy asked weakly.

Norman brushed hair from his eyes and allowed himself to take in Sammy’s appearance. He looked so tired and sick that it hurt to look at. “Sammy,” Norman said in a serious, genuine voice. “Can you meet me after work?”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you seriously about something.”

“Why can’t we do it here?”

Norman peered over his shoulder, closed the door and whispered, “I suppose we could, if you think it’s safer. Will he be okay with it?”

Sammy glared at him with all the force he could muster. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I can do whatever I want.”

“Okay. Promise me you’ll be there. Here’s my address.” He handed Sammy a sheet of paper. “Right after work, okay?”

“Fine,” Sammy sighed. He was too tired to make fight out of it. Norman turned to leave. “Wait,” Sammy said. “Do you see faint words on the walls here? Like ink that couldn’t quite be scrubbed off?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” At least now, Sammy could be sure that he wasn’t seeing things.

Shortly after Norman left, Sammy went down to the infirmary for the rest of the day.

—-

The bastard stole his keys! Sammy wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but Norman had taken the keys right out of his pocket. Well, Sammy might have skipped meeting Norman otherwise, but now he had no choice. So, he followed the address and ended up on Norman’s doorstep. Norman opened the door before Sammy got the chance to knock.

“Come in,” Norman said gravely.

“Give me back my keys,” Sammy growled.

“After. Come in.”

Sammy obeyed. Norman’s house was nice enough, he supposed, although the wall with dozens of photos of people taped to it was disconcerning. Sammy even saw a picture of himself on it. Without even looking at him, Norman pointed to an armchair. Sammy sat down in it, and Norman disappeared to the kitchen and came back a second later with two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to Sammy.

“What are you doing?” Sammy asked.

“Making you comfortable,” Norman answered.

No, you’re not, Sammy wanted to say, but he settled for giving Norman a weird look.

“Sorry, I’m not good with new people. But anyhow, I wanted to talk to you because I know you’re in a relationship with Joey Drew, and I’ve seen that you’re not half yourself lately. How is he treating you?”

“Fine,” Sammy snapped.

Norman got up and pretended to swing at Sammy. His fist ended up almost a foot from where Sammy was, but Sammy ended up curled into a whimpering ball, his hands protecting his face and his coffee sprayed across the floor.

“I don’t think you’re fine.”

“You know what? You’re making a ton of assumptions, here. Joey is the best thing that ever happened to me! Maybe my dad beat me, and that’s why I cowered like that. Maybe I’m just jumpy in general. Maybe you’re just that freaky! Ever think of that? You can’t prove anything! And even if you could, why would you care?”

Norman sat back down. “Sorry. Can I tell you why I care?”

“Will you give me my keys back afterwards?”

Norman sighed. “So, the reason that I care is that I think I saw my best friend go through the same process. You’re familiar with the finance manager, now that you’re in his office, right?”

As a head-of-department, Sammy had had a few run-ins with the finance manager over the years, but hadn’t bothered to learn his name until they’d switched offices. “Toby?”

“No, the one before him. Grant Cohen.”

“Don’t know him.”

“Well, he was also in a relationship with Joey Drew. I remember how happy he was when Joey finally made it official. He thought all he was to him was a toy. After that, though... well, I could sense things were going wrong, but I never said anything. I watched Joey treat him like property, and I never said a word... Months later, he gives me a call at eight at night, asking to come over. He shows up with cracked glasses, a bloody nose, and a hand-shaped bruise across his face. I was with him when he made that phone call to break up with Joey and give his two weeks’ notice. Honestly, I thought giving him that much was too much, but Grant wanted the severance package. Well, he disappeared less than two weeks later, and I was left wishing that I’d said something before it escalated like that. And now I’m looking at this small, scared, worn-down version of Sammy Lawrence who’s also in a relationship with Joey Drew, and this time I don’t want to keep my mouth shut.”

Sammy was in silence for nearly a minute. “Joey never treated me like a toy,” Sammy mused. “From day one, he treated me like someone who he really respected and wanted in his life. And he would never hit me in the face. I wonder what Grant did to deserve that...” he was just thinking aloud, but now Sammy realized how insensitive it sounded. And yet, Norman, didn’t seem offended.

“I never said your relationship was exactly the same. And you have bruises, Sammy.”

“I- what?” That couldn’t be right. Joey hadn’t beaten him in over a week. And yet, Sammy looked down and saw that his arms were covered in dark splotches, like there was a black substance trapped under his skin. He started hyperventilating. “This isn’t from Joey.”

“Sammy...”

“No, it’s worse. It’s ink. Joey and I downed ink together.”

“Ink? How are you even alive?!”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s not deadly. Just... just a little toxic. I don’t know what it’s going to do to me, Norman. Joey and I are supposed to go through this together, but it’s making me so sick and I-I’m scared.”

Norman came over and hugged Sammy, hoping that he’d stop shaking. “Shh... it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

After they separated, Sammy said, “Listen, Joey isn’t going to kill me. But... maybe he is a little toxic. But he’s given me things that you can’t even understand. And I think I can take him. I think I can take,” Sammy looked down at his arms, “this.”

Norman wasn’t sure what to say. This was all so much weirder than he’d thought. “Well, I can’t make you leave him. But if the toxicity ever gets to be too much to handle, just know that I’m here, alright? Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Thank you.”

“Here’s your keys.”

—-

Right after the run-in with Norman, Sammy had been annoyed- mostly at himself for being so weak and selling out his partner like that, but also at Norman for putting him in that situation in the first place. Over the next few days, though, he began to think he had the right idea. Those three days had been rough- Sammy was spending almost as much time resting in the infirmary as he did working. The inky “bruises” were growing. At home, Joey was good about handling things around the house while Sammy rested. He’d been sympathetic to Sammy, since, for some reason, downing the was barely affecting Joey at all.

“I guess the ink just has different plans for us,” he’d said, “I guess we’ll just have to trust the process. Trust that it knows what’s best.”

Sammy wanted to trust the process. Wanted there to be a point in this. But he was also scared. His last straw was when he first noticed the veins extending from his bruises turning black. The thought of those painful areas spreading all over his body...

The morning four days after Norman’s intervention, Sammy got up at four in the morning and slipped out to visit the emergency room, where he was taken in, stripped down, and observed by a flurry of doctors who had no idea what was wrong with him. One nurse carefully pierced one of his “bruises,” which looked more like ink-filled warts at this point, and took the substance in for analysis, as well as taking a blood sample.

“Well, there’s enough... ink, or at least a biological substance with the appearance and scent of ink, in your body to kill a dozen men through ink poisoning,” the doctor said. “We should really test this further.”

“No!” Please, just treat me.” Sammy pleaded. Joey would kill him if the public found out the truth.

“But you could have some underlying issue. And this... ailment... has never been seen before. What if it’s contagious? Researching it would be a matter of public health.”

Sammy wanted to cry. “I beg of you. Just treat me the best you can. You can’t use me as a test subject without permission, right? If you can’t treat me without tests, I’ll just have to leave.”

The doctor gave him the most sympathetic look. “I suppose if it’s between that and treating you the best we can, we’ll treat you, if you’ll sign a waiver. So, here’s what we can do. We can burst the skin deposits with a sterile needle to get the ink out, then flush the areas with strong antibiotics. We’ll also have you take some oral antibiotics. Then, we’re going to have to put you through blood transfusions. My guess is that it will take ten hours a day for three days to get your blood healthy again. There’s a whole lot of gunk in it.”

Sammy froze. Three days. How would he hide this from Joey? “Oh, okay. Let’s do it.” He’d figure that out later. He needed treatment.

Sammy was taken to another room, where nurses burst the inky tumours. It hurt. But having less ink in him was a relief- all that built-up pressure under his skin had been painful. After that procedure, it was late enough in the morning that Joey would be at work, and Sammy went out to make two phone calls. The first was to Joey Drew.

“Joey, it’s Sammy Lawrence,” he began cautiously.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU’D BETTER HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS OR I SWEAR TO GOD THERE WON’T BE ANYTHING LEFT FOR THE DOCTORS TO SEW BACK TOGETHER.”

The response was about level with Sammy’s expectations. “I do have an explanation. My aunt is sick, and I went to the Michigan hospital to see her. I got the phone call about three and a half hours ago, and I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. No, I’m sorry for assuming the worst, and about your aunt. Call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Alright. I love you. Bye. And uh, it might be a few days before she recovers, or, you know...”

“Right. Take care.”

The second phone call was to Norman’s place.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered. Of course, Sammy realized. Norman would be at work.

“Hey. It’s Sammy. Did Norman tell you about me?”

“You’re the one who’s in an abusive relationship with Joey Drew?”

Sammy sighed. Norman really had no respect for privacy whatsoever, but he wasn’t in a position to reject his help over that. “It’s just a little toxic. But, yeah. And I need help. Could I have a place to sleep tonight?”

“Sure,” she said in the warmest voice.

“Thank you.”

It was about 8:30 when Sammy was through with the blood transfusions that day and had arrived at Norman’s home.

“Thank you so much,” Sammy said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t come here. I need to be gone from Joey for three days, and my old apartment is already on the housing market. I can call my brother about tomorrow night, but...”

“Woah, hold up,” Norman interjected. “You’re going back to him?”

“The problem isn’t our relationship. I’m just getting some medical attention that he wouldn’t approve of. That’s all. Here, here’s where they were doing blood transfusions on me.” Sammy showed them the pinprick on his arm.

Norman looked at Sammy with pity, a look that he was rapidly getting used to. “Okay. You can stay here tonight, and tomorrow night, too. Have you had dinner yet?”

“I’m good. Look, I’m really tired. Can I...?”

“Of course. I’ll show you to the guest room.”

Before Sammy went to bed, he took a good look in the bathroom mirror. No wonder people were giving him all those pitying looks- he looked like he belonged on the street. His hair looked bristly and was stained with ink. His skin was stained as well, and was covered in sores, a couple even on his face, from bursting the ink tumours this morning. He hadn’t eaten in over a week and hadn’t eaten normally for some time before that. Maybe that’s why his skin looked so sickly pale. Maybe he really should eat something for his health’s sake. The crazy thing was that he didn’t even feel hungry- whatever the ink had him destined for, it must have wanted him to be immune to starvation.

The ink... it wants something for me... why am I messing up its plan?

In bed, Sammy tortured himself with that question. Why was he going against Joey like this? They were supposed to handle this, and whatever the ink brought them, together. And how on earth was he going to explain the medical bills to Joey? And the burst tumours? The thought of Joey’s fists coming down on all those tender sores until they bled, Joey shoving his fingers into them as punishment... it made Sammy want to run away. Thankfully, Sammy was very tired, so it wasn’t long before he was asleep.

Two days later, it was time for Sammy to go home. He showed up at eleven pm. “Hey,” Joey said gently. “How was it? Did your aunt recover?”

Sammy was pretty scared, so he went with the option that would explain why he was upset. “No.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It was nice for you to have us pay some of her hospital bills.”

Sammy’s eyes went wide. Did Joey actually think that’s what they were? “Yeah... ha ha.” Sammy walked past him. He was going to leave it there, but he couldn’t. He turned back to Joey. “Please don’t hurt me! I was desperate, alright? I love her!”

Joey looked genuinely surprised. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I mean, I wish you’d contacted me about it, but it was life or death!” Joey spread his arms, “Come here.”

Sammy returned the hug. Joey started stroking his hair. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know it’s late, but do you want to get wasted? It’s Friday, so we can sleep in tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Could Sammy even drink anymore? It had been a while since he’d tried.

Sammy fetched a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Cautiously, Sammy sipped from it. It went down fine- no sputtering on it, no disgust with the taste, no stomach ache. In that moment, Sammy realized that despite the recent blood transfusions, he felt healthier than he had since shortly after his infection. Maybe he really was all better.

“Someone’s happy,” Joey teased. Sammy then realized that he was wearing a big, dopey smile.

“Would you call me crazy if I said I feel better than I have in weeks? Come on, let’s make love, already!” One more thing he’d been too sick to do until now.

Sammy immediately regretted that as Joey began unbuttoning his shirt. The ink sores- he’d forgotten about the ink sores. “Wait. Stop. I changed my mind!”

It was too late, though. “Sex can wait,” Joey said darkly, his eyes focused on the sores on his chest, “but this shirt is coming off.” After undoing the last button, Joey threw the shirt to the side and circled around to look at his back. “Reach for your back. I want to see how far you can reach.”

Too scared to do anything else, Sammy obeyed. There was a long, horrible silence before Joey pushed Sammy onto the floor and held him down by his shoulders. “Explain the wounds.”

Sammy started sobbing.

“EXPLAIN THEM DAMNIT! DON’T MAKE ME MAKE YOU!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Sammy exclaimed between sobs. “I was so sick! I just wanted-” Sammy was cut off by a punch to his genitals, followed by several more to his chest and stomach. Joey was sitting on his legs, so he all he could do was cover his face and hope Joey would wear himself out eventually.

When Joey was finally finished, he was panting from anger and exertion. “I can’t believe you. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I messed with the ink’s plan for us. We were supposed to face it together, and I failed you. I’m so sorry.”

Joey laughed. “If that’s all it were, I’d be happy. I didn’t know that the ink was going to make you this miserable. I don’t like seeing you like that. No. What you did was jeopardize our secrets. Imagine what’s going going to happen now that some hospital knows about the supernatural ink!” Joey’s fists curled. “We could both go to jail! I oughta-”

“Joey, wait! The only problem is a hospital finding out? Well, that’s good, because I never got help from a hospital. My sister is the one who helped me cut them off, honest! So it’s okay. It’s all okay, right?!”

“Oh! Oh,” Joey got up off of him. “Yes, of course it’s okay. I’m sorry about all that. Do you need some ice?”

Sammy nodded. After Joey had fetched him the ice, they made love and then turned in for the night. It had hurt thanks to all the bruises and wounds, but Sammy felt like he owed it to Joey for all of the trouble and lies. And as much as it hurt, it was still better than being ink sick. At least that was over.

—-

But it wasn’t over. The ink might have been removed from Sammy’s skin and what was left of his circulatory system, but nearly all his internal organs were gone, eaten, disintegrated. That’s why he was able to drink without a problem- there was no esophagus to reject the wine, and no stomach to ache. The ink was still deep inside of him, growing.

—-

The middle of the next afternoon, Sammy was still in bed, and Joey decided to check on him. Maybe he was taking the death of his aunt harder than it had seemed, and if so, Joey figured he ought to be there for him.

“Hey, Sammy. You up?” he asked to a completely-covered Sammy. No response. He tried shaking him gently, but again, no response. With his hands on him now, Joey realized that Sammy wasn’t breathing. He tore off the blanket to reveal the absolute horror beneath.

It was Sammy, alright. Same blue eyes, dead still and with ink and blood coming out of the sockets, leaving trails over purple skin. It was as though there were only an inch of human left overtop of the ink. Less in some places, where those dark tumours had returned. He even smelled like ink. Though still in a trancelike-state, Sammy reached weakly for the blanket. It was at this moment that Joey realized that Sammy was as cold as a corpse.

“Oh my God. I’m so, so sorry that I did this to you.” And Joey was. He’d had the perfect partner- one who had loved him despite knowing everything about him. And he’d let his insecurity, his lust for control, ruin him. If he could have chosen between having Henry back at his side or taking back the moment when he’d had Sammy drink that ink, he wouldn’t have hesitated to save Sammy’s life.

Joey spent the rest of the day caring for Sammy the best he could- feeding him soup, giving him hot water bottles and blankets to keep him warm, cleaning him up when he coughed up ink, keeping him company. For a little while, Sammy seemed to perk up a bit, and even tried to speak, though his voice was incomprehensibly thick with ink. By nightfall, though, Joey was convinced that Sammy was gone.

Joey gathered Sammy up into a plastic garbage bag, drove him to the studio, and left him in a supply closet in the very basement where Joey was sure no one would find him.

—-

The next thing Sammy was aware of was how cold he was. He reached for the blankets, but his hand found plastic. “What?!” Sammy said aloud. “I can- I can speak.” Somehow that surprised him. He stood up from the untied garbage bag and immediately stumbled on his own feet.

Where am I? ...This looks like the ink machine. How did I get here?”

All Sammy could remember was a delirious haze of laying in bed and Joey doting on him. Suddenly he remembered the last thing Joey had said to him.

“It’s gonna be alright. Remember all those magical nights we had together, running around in the woods, trying things we shouldn’t, getting drunk, talking about our passions, acting them out? We had so much fun. I’m gonna give you some time to think about everything else you appreciated in life, alright? But I’ll be here until the very end. That’s a promise.”

Sammy quickly realized that that was how you spoke to a dying man. Was he dead? He didn’t feel dead. On extremely unsteady legs, Sammy dragged himself off to a reflective metal surface. His feet and lower calves were like unmoving stumps on the ends of his legs. Inky blackness dominated his torso and had spread up his limbs and neck. Trying to touch his nose, Sammy realized why he was so unsteady- he could no longer move the parts of him that weren’t ink yet. The only reason he could even speak was the ink he had spat up and infected his mouth and jaw with earlier.

There was nothing for Sammy to do but sit down and watch the last of his humanity fade away. Watch and bawl tears of ink until his eyes were gone. Watch as ink was excreted from his remaining pores like sweat, engulfing his flesh. Joey had promised to be there for the end of his life. Maybe he’d even meant it. Joey had meant all his promises, really. All those promises to stop abusing him. But in the end, Joey was just a little too toxic to follow through.

—-

The following evening, Joey came down to the giant ink machine. It would be hard going on with this without loyal partner, but duty called.

Then, as he was making his way to the inner chamber, Joey nearly tripped over something unexpected: a somewhat muscular humanoid made of ink, curled up in fetal position on the cold metal floor. All of his subjects were supposed to be locked up! How could this have happened?! Unless...

“Sammy...?”

Sammy turned his head to Joey and nodded, whimpering.

Joey picked Sammy up in his arms. “You’re alive. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you... but I’ll think of something. That’s a promise.”

A part of Sammy wanted to reach down Joey’s throat and poison him with the ink that made up his body. A bigger part of Sammy thought that anything was better than staying trapped in this cold, metal dungeon. After everything he’d gone through, he wanted comfort. He wanted warmth. No matter where it came from. Sammy wrapped his arms around Joey. This might be a little toxic, but it was all he had.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #a symphony of nightmares #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #joey drew #norman polk #ink creatures

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booksoanahasread · 5 years ago

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Eleanor Oliphant se simte excelent by Gail Honeyman

This is not an easy read, not a light read, not a romance novel. This is an incredible depiction of human spirit and what it means to deal with pain and trauma.

The choice for the setting of the novel was note-worthy, Glasgow. It somehow fit the entire plot of the story perfectly, without making much of a fuss about it being Scotland. In all honesty, I read the translated version of the novel, so there may be some things lost in translation, but even so it was a phenomenal book.

The writing itself was suspenseful, it always managed to keep you glued to your seat and reading. It was well-thought out and planned. Everything just made sense and was perfectly constructed to reveal the surprising ending.

I must admit the novel really annoyed me at the beginning, Eleanor wasn’t a relatable character for me, but that was until I saw the true manner of the novel and what she had been through. She is an incredibly strong woman who was dealt a hand that she really didn’t deserve.

Eleanor at first seems like a robot, unable to feel emotions, strives to continue following her strict routine (work, food, vodka). What she didn’t realise is how life is supposed to be lived. Her past traumas really affected her on a day-to-day basis. She couldn’t function like most of the other people in her office.

Her friendship with Raymond I think brought out the best in her, it showed her that she deserved love, no matter what the past had been. She reinvented herself, experimented with makeup, new clothes, and new situations. Her whole character arc was a journey of self-discovery and healing.

Her admiration of Sammy, the old man she and Raymond saved near the beginning of the book, is brought to a satisfying finale when Keith, Sammy’s son, gives her Sammy’s sweater. She loved the idea of having a true family to belong to, one where she could truly feel safe and secure in her own skin. It was something she never had as a child, after the burning of her childhood home.

Her mother was frequently contacted in the novel, but only in the end we find out that in reality she didn’t actually talk to Eleanor. but rather she was long dead. Nothing about her relationship with her mother was healthy. When she was little, her mother was cruel and hurtful. She didn’t love her daughters, evidently clear in the passage at the end of the novel in the newspaper. The poor girls were absolutely terrified of their mother, who would constantly reprimand them and beat them, leaving bruises and cuts on their fragile skin. Of course they hadn’t deserved it, the way no child deserves to be pulled out of school for no reason.

It really breaks your heart to hear the past of the protagonist. Eleanor was in a toxic relationship in university, where her boyfriend wouldn’t let her do anything other than what he wanted. She was beaten by him, bruises and broken arms weren’t out of the question. The only way she actually left him was after a trip to the hospital when a nurse told her that “people who truly love you don’t hurt you”. Thankfully, Eleanor took her advice and told the abuser to leave, while it may not have been easy, it must have been worth it.

I loved how Eleanor took in the world around her, it was refreshing to see such an analysis surrounding much of modern culture, such as a smokey eye makeup, high heels, and manicures. She was so blunt in her honesty that it was incredible to see how the rest of the world interacted with her. Her interactions with barmen were fascinating. She was entirely clueless as to what other people feel at the beginning.

When she hit her lowest low, it was hard to read. Written with such emotion and hard-hitting reality, you truly understand what goes on in her mind, for better or worse. She deserved none of her harsh criticism about her obsession over that singer. She was incredible, even if she didn’t notice it or comprehend it.

Her visits to the therapist were such a window into her past and into her soul. She was able to finally make progress and begin functioning like a healthy person, even with clinical depression. Whenever she started opening up about herself and her past, she was divulging a piece of her that she wanted to hide away from the light. She had constant harmful thoughts that were voiced by her mother and that she couldn’t really get over, at least not without help.

Raymond, I must admit, was an absolutely incredible friend to Eleanor. He always checked up on her, helped her with whatever she needed. This was easiest to prove when he barged into her apartment during her darkest days and took care of her, since she couldn’t do that. He was so sweet and thoughtful, absolutely wonderful. I loved the way he just accepted her unconditionally, how he wanted to help her, and how he just let her be herself. He was her first proper friend after the fire.

I loved so many things about this book and I’m so glad I bought it. It made me feel really good about life. For a debut novel, this is a masterpiece. This book reveals so many truths about the world we live in, about trauma, and about what personality traits we should value over others. I will recommend this book to a lot of people.

#eleanor oliphant is completely fine #eleanor oliphant se simte excelent #gail honeyman #editura rao #book review #fiction #book

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baileysbabbles · 5 years ago

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I just watched the first two episodes of season 2 of Dynasty and this season is going to be probably even crazier than season 1 but I am definitely going to enjoy it. I’m liking that we’re getting so much Liam and I’m happy that Fallon is happy even if I like Liam more than Culhane. I think Sammy Jo and Steven are going to be okay this season and that makes me happy. This Cristal lady seems interesting to say the least. Alexis and Kirby are going to be annoying and crazy this season. My thoughts:

I don’t know how I feel about Fallon and Culhane finally being a real thing.

Alexis is a loser.

I never really liked Cristal so I’m not really sad she died at all but I’m sad for Sammy Jo.

Melissa Daniels is crazy.

I really hope Steven and Sammy can get through this baby thing because they’re so good together.

I missed Liam.

Oof. AWKWARD.

Hank is stupid.

I’m glad Fallon’s being honest.

Blake’s a big fat mess.

I’m already tired of Alexis.

Fallon and Culhane seem to be happy and their relationship seems to be healthy so I’m happy for them right now.

Everyone is a mess right now.

Poor Anders. Kirby’s obviously just another thing for him to worry about and clean up after.

What the hell does Cristal Flores want right now??

People are crappy.

Yay for more awkward Fallon and Liam. I did enjoy that kiss though and so did Liam.

Culhane is such a jealous guy.

Ooh Fallon’s thinking about Liam again.

I’m glad Blake isn’t a total pushover right now.

Sammy Jo is so sweet.

Liam definitely still has feelings for Fallon.

Oh Lord what is Fallon planning?

Liam just hit Fallon with the frying pan of truth of she wasn’t ready for it.

Blake’s definitely kinda a dirtbag but somebody has to say all that.

No one deserves Sam.

Alexis is such a leech.

Culhane is actually being a really good guy to Fallon right now and it makes me happy.

Ew. Alexis and Blake are pathetic.

Liam’s family is almost as crazy as Fallon’s.

Ew. I knew Max seemed a little weird but I didn’t think he was a pervert. And he’s a fat dirty liar too.

Kirby’s a little crazy but she’s definitely not stupid.

Anders is such a good old man to have around.

I’m not surprised Melissa was lying.

Blake is a ridiculous man.

I really hope Liam doesn’t try and be dirty and screw up Fallon’s happiness.

Kirby is so petty and kinda freaking screwed up in the head.

I can’t believe Monica believed Kirby over Fallon.

Whoever this Cristal lady seems a little sketchy like any stranger would but I think she’ll be okay.

Oh shit. Fallon better come up with a real good cover up this time.

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notfunnydean · 6 years ago

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Sometimes, it’s better to be alone

This is for @jacks-nougat-loving-girl and her Disney Quote Challenge! I really hope you like it! x

Prompt: “Sometimes, it’s better to be alone, nobody can hurt you.” from Hercules.

Dean always thought about the bunker as his home. From the first second, he felt good here. He had his own room. Sammy was always near him and even Castiel visited them a lot.

But lately…

Lately he feels like a stranger in his own home. Castiel is a lot more often in the bunker the last weeks, but he isn’t really talking much to Dean. He only seems to visit Sam.

“Nah i’m telling you, i love it.” Sam says from the kitchen and he seems really happy about something. At first Dean believes he is on the phone with someone, but then he hears a voice that visits him in way too many dreams.

“Thank you Sam. I’m glad to have you.” Castiel answers and he sounds a bit embarrassed, but Dean can also hear the smile in his voice. This soft voice seems to be reserved for only Sam these days.

“Same Castiel. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Sam says quietly and Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Sam deserves this. His little brother deserves to be happy as well. Dean should be okay with this. He should be happy for Sam. He really should.

“Morning.” Dean mumbles quietly and goes over to the stove. He needs a real good breakfast now and if Sam and Cas want to have secrets, they can have them somewhere that is not his kitchen.

“Hey Dean.” Sam says easily before he gets up, not without squeezing Castiel’s shoulder once. Dean doesn’t even answer his brother and he knows it’s … childish. Yeah but he thought Sam knew that Dean has some feelings or whatever for his angel.

Apparently he was wrong about that. Or worse, Sam doesn’t care. Castiel isn’t even an angel anymore. It’s mostly Dean’s fault and he hates himself enough for all three of them. But he can’t stop to think about Castiel as an Angel, because for him, he still is. Even without his mojo.

[Read more under the cut]

“Hello Dean.” Castiel says, when Sam is out of the door. Probably for his shower. Dean just nods and starts to search for ingredients in his fridge. He could make pancakes. Yeah maybe that would help the sour feeling in his mouth.

“So anything you are doing today?” Dean asks when he puts his pan on the stove. He should have some chocolate chips somewhere, too.

“Yeah, actually Sam and me want to go to his little farmer market.” Castiel announces happily and Dean turns around to him. Castiel’s smile is breathtaking, even though it’s not for Dean.

“Oh that sounds like fun.” Dean quietly says, when he turns back. He’s never been to a farmer market and he is sure it’s not really his thing, but for Cas? He would do anything. Sam however loves farmer markets.

So yeah Dean can understand why Castiel prefers Sam. They are much more alike. Where Dean loves a good fight in a hunt, Castiel and Sam do more of the research. They both love to go out for walks or ...apparently farmer markets.

Dean loves to sit on his damn bed and watch netflix. He loves fast food and would probably die for pie. Castiel and Sam love all those healthy green things. Since Castiel fell and is human, he eats burgers too. But he always goes back to the healthy stuff.

“Yeah i can’t wait to go there! I heard they have so many different kinds of honey.” Castiel explains excited and Dean sighs quietly. He should’ve bought Castiel some honey the last time he went grocery shopping.

“Do you want to eat something before you leave?” Dean asks and Castiel shakes his head at him. Dean tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

“I already ate with Sam. He made us a fruit salad and he even remembered that i don’t like pears.” Castiel says and Dean nods again. He knew that, too. Since Castiel is human, he tried a lot of stuff and Dean tries to memorize everything he likes and hates.

“Okay cool.” Dean says and he is already finished making his pancakes. He sits down to eat them and looks at Castiel. He can’t help it. He always stares at him.

Castiel isn’t look back at him, instead he is reading over a newspaper. That gives Dean the idea, that he could actually look for a new hunt. Maybe there is something near them and he could look alone at it.

“Cas?”

Dean wants to roll his eyes. He doesn’t even have ten minutes alone with Castiel. Sam is dressed up. Dean nearly chokes on his pancakes, when he sees that Sam is actually wearing a nice suit and has his hair in a ponytail.

“I’m ready Sam.” Castiel says and at least he isn’t overdressed. He wears just some jeans and an old shirt from Dean. Normally that would at least make Dean smile, but not today. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Perfect. Dean? Don’t wait up for us. I wanna take Castiel out somewhere.” Sam says and he alreadys grabs the keys for Baby. Dean doesn’t even blink. Castiel puts the newspaper away and gets up to follow Sam.

Dean swallows dryly, when he is alone.

Sam takes Castiel out. His brother takes his angel out. Dean swallows again, but it feels as if there is a lump in his throat.

Dean gets up and opens the fridge again, to get out a beer. He doesn’t care that it’s only 10 am. He doesn’t care about anything.

Hours later, Dean does care. Or at least his body does. His head is hurting like hell, the lumb in his throat is still there and he feels as if he needs to puke.

Dean sits outside of the bunker and it’s already dark. So instead of doing the right thing and looking for a hunt, he is sitting here miserably and drunk. Just perfect. Maybe Castiel and Sam wouldn't even come home. Maybe they would search for a tiny motel and…

Dean shakes his head, but that makes him dizzy. He doesn’t even hears it, when Baby drives into their garage. Dean just sighs loudly and lets himself fall backwards into the grass. He isn’t even sure what he is doing here outside.

“Dean?”

Oh. Dean closes his eyes, that sounds a lot like his angel. Dean always liked his voice. It’s so deep and when he is worried about Dean, it sounds even better. Dean sighs happily.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks and now Dean realizes that this isn’t a dream. No, Castiel is really standing there. Frowning down at him. Dean makes himself a bit smaller. Oh great.

“I was out and drinking and yeah…” Dean says, because he can’t say that he was crying over his lost relationship with Castiel right? But now Castiel seems really angry. Dean doesn’t understand.

“Really?” Castiel huffs and Dean shakes his head. But what is he supposed to say?

“Sleeping?” Dean tries but Castiel is having none of it. He holds his hand out and Dean takes it, groaning. Sam is standing behind Castiel and he seems angry, too. Dean doesn’t really care. He checks his surroundings.

“Why are you back already?” Dean says and Sam huffs annoyed.

“Apparently to save your sorry ass from freezing to death.” Sam says and he already turns around to walk back to the bunker. Dean sees that he even left the door open before. Oh maybe he is more out of it, than he thought.

“We tried to call you a few times and when you didn’t answer we left early.” Castiel admits quietly and Dean’s eyes widen. He destroyed their date, without even being there? He feels even more like crap now.

“Cas. I’m sorry.” Dean tries, but Castiel just shakes his head. Sam is banging the door loudly and Castiel sighs. He still helps Dean back to the bunker and even into his room. Dean falls onto his bed and sees his phone. It’s blinking with a dozen messages.

“Do you need help?” Castiel asks and he sounds so disappointed in Dean. He hastily shakes his head and presses his face halfway into his pillow.

“Y-you have to believe me Castiel! I’m sorry.” Dean says again, but Castiel is already halfway through the room.

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel says before he shuts off the light and leaves. Dean waits another few minutes, before he hears voices again. Maybe Castiel would at least sleep in Sam’s room. Dean sits up again.

He just wishes…

Dean shakes his head. No. He would not cry over this. Sam deserves someone like Castiel. And Castiel...deserves everybody but Dean.

Where the fuck is his bag?

“What are you doing here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Dean looks up at the woman and then huffs. He can’t even sit here and drink himself to death, without someone speaking to him every two seconds.

It’s been a shitty month since Dean ran away. Or drove away. He couldn’t leave Baby there. Still he had thought he would feel better with being away from the two lovebirds. Instead he feels worse.

He misses Castiel. A bit more with every day.

“Sorry. Not interested.” Dean mumbles and holds his hand up for the bartender. He needs another beer. He checks his new phone, but of course there are no messages. He doesn’t even have any contacts in there.

When the new beer arrives, Dean hisses at bit, when he takes it. The lastest hunt was not an easy one and Dean is pretty hurt from that damn ghost. Still in the end he killed it once and for all.

“Dean?!”

Dean jerks at the voice and spills the beer all over himself. Dammit that was his last shirt. He gets up and looks around. And fuck. There is Sam standing in this shabby bar, looking very angry.

“Uhm.” Dean says and he looks around for another way out. Sadly he can’t find another door, only the one to the toilets.

“We were searching for you for weeks!” Sam says, when he comes closer and he already grabs Dean’s arm. Dean winces, because fuck it’s still bruised badly.

“Stop! Sam!” Dean says, while his brother shoves him out of the bar. Outside is Castiel leaning against his damn pimpmobile. Dean wants to cry and he tries to get out of Sam’s hold.

Due to his bruised arm and the last five beers, Sam is way more stronger than him. Just his luck of course.

“Dean!” Castiel says and he sounds a bit angry too, but mostly relieved. Dean kinda wants to run over to him for a hug. He doesn’t do anything in the end.

“What are you doing here?” Dean hisses and finally Sam lets go of his arm. Dean takes a few steps away from his brother. He is pretty sure that if he would try to run, Castiel or Sam would stop him before he makes it over to Baby.

“We were looking for you. What are you doing?” Sam says and his bitch face is on a whole new level. Dean would be impressed, if it wasn’t directed at him.

“I wanted to be alone.” Dean says and he sounds like a teenager. Oh god. Sam grunts at that and Castiel frowns at him.

“Why did you want to be alone?” Castiel says quietly and when Dean looks at him, he sees that Castiel is more sad than angry. He looks...he looks as if he didn’t sleep the last weeks and his eyes are so dark. He can see the hurt in his angel’s eyes. Dean swallows.

“I… i needed… i wanted…” Dean stutters, but he doesn’t know what to say. Should he maybe just congratulate them on their relationship? Dean isn’t sure how honest he can sound when he says it, but maybe he has to try.

“You wanted to be alone? Normal people stay in their room for a day then. They don’t drive through half the country and hide.” Sam says and Dean nods. He knows that he isn’t exactly normal.

“Like i said. I wanted to be alone and i don’t appreciate you following me.” Dean snaps at Sam and he takes a few steps back. Maybe he could still make it to Baby, without spilling his feelings here and being even more embarrassed.

“Dean.” Castiel says again and the pain in his eyes is so clear, that Dean looks at the ground. He never meant to hurt Castiel. Hurting Castiel was the last thing Dean wanted. He had thought Castiel and Sam could concentrate more on each other, without him between them to ruin it.

“S-sometimes it’s better to be alone. Nobody can hurt you.” Dean whispers and this time the first tear already falls down to the ground. Dean doesn’t look up, when the next tears fall. Embarrassing.

That’s what he is. Pathetic. Crying in a parking lot, just because he got rejected. Dean rubs his hand over his face, but the tears don’t stop. He tries to cry at least quietly, but even that doesn’t work.

“What are you talking about? Who is hurting you Dean?” Sam asks and this time he sounds mostly shocked and a bit afraid. Dean shakes his head again. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want Sam to feel bad for dating Castiel.

“It’s o-okay.” Dean presses out, but he isn’t even sure if they can understand him between all those tears.

Dean gasps quietly, when somebody pulls him into a warm hug. Since Dean is being able to press his face against the other ones shoulder without standing on his tiptoes, it’s Castiel who is hugging him.

“I never saw you cry before.” Castiel whispers quietly and Dean tries to take a deep breath, but now he is only sobbing even louder in Castiel’s trench coat. He even curls his fingers into the fabric.

“S-sorry.” Dean stutters and Castiel doesn’t seem angry anymore. Instead he even puts one of his hands in Dean’s hair and strokes it lightly. Dean jerks a bit, when somebody else takes his free hand. Sam.

“Dean talk to us. Who is hurting you? Why do you need to be alone?” Sam asks carefully and even he seems to be worried about Dean’s sudden outburst. Even though he saw how Dean had wept, when he came back from hell. Dean sniffles and shakes his head. He can’t tell them.

“Do you think whoever is hurting you, will hurt us, too?” Castiel whispers and Dean shrugs. What can he say to that?

“I don’t want to intrude.” Dean mumbles finally. He isn’t sure that they actually understood what he said, but with the way Castiel jerks, they did. “Intrude?” He asks and Dean nods against his neck. If he could he would stay forever like this.

“You and Sammy.” Dean says quietly and Sam pulls his hand away. Dean makes the mistake to look up at that. Sam is still gifting him with a bitch face. Castiel is frowning.

“Me and Sam? I don’t understand.” Castiel says and he looks to Sam for answers. Dean knows his brother would figure it out any second. Sam shakes his head and sighs. Dean actually doesn’t want to hear him say it.

‘Dean, Castiel and I are together now.’

But maybe...it would help him to get over it.

“You are so stupid, Dean. I can’t believe this.” Sam says and Dean wants to apologize again, but just as he opens his mouth, Sam holds his hand up. Dean stays quiet.

“What the fucking hell makes you think Castiel and i are together?” Sam says through clenched teeth. Dean furrows his eyebrows. Now he is the one, who doesn’t understand anything apparently.

“Uhm...you were always together and whispering and...you went to the market together. You took Cas out for a date back then? Remember?” Dean says and he licks his lips. Didn’t it work out between them? Maybe the date went bad.

Without Dean destroying it.

Dean would have expected anything, but not that Sam starts actually to laugh. Castiel isn’t laughing, but he also doesn’t seem as confused anymore. Sam even throws his head back, as he starts howling. Dean frowns harder.

“This is the best thing i heard all year.” Sam presses out between his laughter and Dean can’t believe they share the same blood. Idiot.

“Sam wasn’t taking me out on a date.” Castiel mutters quietly, while Sam goes over to Baby and leans against her, only to laugh again. Dean looks back to Castiel. They are still standing close together.

“No. We went to the market to get some honey and fruits. I told you.” Castiel says and Dean nods. Still, he knows what he heard.

“He said he took you out.” Dean says and Castiel smiles a bit. He takes Dean’s hand in his and then looks back to Sam.

“Good maybe i was trying to make you jealous Dean. But i didn’t know you would drink yourself half to death and then run away.” Sam says and he finally stopped laughing. Dean glares at his brother.

Castiel looks at Sam as well. Apparently they can now communicate without talking, because Castiel nods once and then looks back to Dean.

“Get into my car.” Castiel says and without another thought, Dean does. He just sits down and waits for Castiel to start the car. Normally he hates to drive with other people and he even leaves Sam alone with Baby.

But he really wants to be with Castiel now. They drive for almost two hours and Dean is nervous the whole time, but it doesn’t seem like Castiel wants to talk.

“Where are we?” Dean asks, when they stop and Castiel gets out of the car. They seem to be in a small forest in the middle of the night. There are a lot of trees around them, a little lake to their left and they are in the middle of a flower field. Only the moon is shining down on them.

“This is where i wanted to take you out. It’s where i pulled you out from hell.” Castiel says and Dean takes a step back, as if Castiel’s words burned him.

“What?”

“You see Sam and i were planning this for days. I wanted to drive here with you and have a picnic. That’s why Sam and i even drove to the farmer market. I wanted it to be special.” Castiel says quietly and he sighs.

Dean is not sure what if should say. He really thought Castiel and Sam were… but instead. Dean feels like he needs to sit down. As if Castiel can read his thoughts, he offers him a blanket and Dean sits down on it.

“You wanted to take me out on a date?” Dean asks and he carefully strokes over the blanket. It’s very soft. He was never on a picnic. Maybe when he was really little, Mary took him to one, but he can’t remember.

“Of course, Dean. Who else would i love?” Castiel says so straightforward, that Dean is speechless for a few moments. He got it all wrong and he...he totally fucked this up. He could’ve had this and instead he run away.

“I’m sorry.” Dean mutters quietly and Castiel sits down next to him. Dean carefully scoops a bit closer, but he isn’t sure if he is really allowed. Castiel smiles a bit, nothing like his bright and beautiful one, but still it’s a smile.

“I have to say it’s quite amusing that you think i would date Sam, but still i was very worried the last weeks. I thought you had found out and didn't want me.” Castiel admits and Dean shakes hastily his head.

He wouldn’t fuck this up again.

“I...i have a crush on you for eh...years.” Dean finally says and it is as if someone took a huge weight from his shoulders. Dean relaxes a bit. Castiel’s smiles this time is bright and adorable. Dean wants to kiss it.

“I’m glad to hear that, because what do you humans always say? Same?” Castiel says and Dean has to laugh at that. Castiel uses that moment to shut him up. In the best way possible.

He kisses Dean softly. Just once, before he leans a bit back. Dean could stare forever in his dark eyes. But he actually wants another kiss.

“Do that again.” Dean whispers and he hasn't even finished his sentence, when Castiel kisses him again. This time Castiel carefully presses against him and puts his hands on Dean’s glowing cheeks.

“Dean.” Castiel whispers quietly between their kisses and somehow Dean ended up on his lap. Castiel is grinning widely.

“I love you.” Dean says, because it’s true and he can’t hold it back anymore. Castiel’s answer is lost in their next kisses, but Dean knows it anyway. Castiel loves him. Not Sam.

“Never leave me like this again.” Castiel says quietly and he strokes over Dean’s cheek. Dean can’t believe he ran in the first place. How could’ve he been this stupid.

“I promise.” Dean answers and he presses his hand over Castiel’s heart.

“So how about this picnic?” Castiel grins and before Dean can answer Castiel gets up and takes a small basket out of his car.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Dean says but he isn’t really protesting. He actually loves this a lot. Castiel just smiles and then puts an arm around him. Dean grins. He can’t believe he ever wanted to be alone.

“I always knew our first date would be special, but this is just...extraordinary.” Castiel says and Dean laughs, before he reaches for the basket on the blanket.

“I really hoped that we would find you today and Sam told me to pack at least a bit, but it’s not much.” Castiel says and Dean laughs when he sees there is mostly just chocolate in the basket.

Then he finds a small bowl with fruit and gives that to Castiel. Of course not without taking the pear out first.

“Sometimes it’s better to stay where you are.” Dean whispers into the quiet night. And he would stay exactly where he was. In Castiel’s arms.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel writing #ash's happy disney quote challenge #jacks-nougat-loving-girl #my writing #my fics

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 years ago

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Broken Like Me: Dean’s Question Timestamp

Summary: Dean is ready to make a life changing decision but he’s not sure how to go about it and the one person he would normally talk to is off limits...

Broken Like Me Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, angst

“Dean,” said Sam, tossing a pillow in his direction from where they sat on the couch. Dean barely flinched, instead shoving it behind his back and keeping his gaze on the TV. “Alright, dude. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Dean, crossing his arms, trying to focus on the show.

“Yeah. Obviously,” said Sam, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t go Dr. Bram on me, Sammy. I’m fine,” said Dean.

“You got away with that excuse my whole life. Shit’s different now. I know you don’t go regularly anymore so if I see you acting funny, I’m gonna call you out on it,” said Sam. “Did your trip with Y/N not go good?”

“No. It was amazing. I mean the plane part sucked but it was really incredible,” said Dean.

“...well did you have a fight or something before she left for her work conference this week?” asked Sam.

“No. I made her breakfast and dropped her off at the airport yesterday. I just talked to her on the phone half hour ago and she sounded good. She’s been doing really good too lately. You’ve seen her. She doesn’t even think twice about wearing short sleeve shirts anymore,” said Dean.

“If it’s not Y/N then what is it?” asked Sam.

“It is Y/N,” said Dean with a shrug. “It’s just…I love her.”

“Kind of totally obvious dude,” teased Sam.

“No, Sammy. I mean, I really really love her. I know...part of me always knew from the start but...she’s my person, Sam. You know I‘m...you know how my head is and Y/N made me feel like I’m not treading water anymore. You kept me from drowning in it and it’s like she’s the one that pointed out if I just stand up I’d be okay and I won’t drown. It’s not a dig on you, I just-“

“You love her,” said Sam with a smile. “S’okay Dean. I love my new sister too and not just because of what she’s done for you.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to screw it up though. I’m freaking terrified of screwing it up.”

“She’s sort of hopelessly in love with you too, Dean,” said Sam, laughing as he relaxed back into the couch, still watching Dean carefully. “Oh. You want to propose.”

Dean only felt a slight heat in his cheeks as he looked at his younger brother, giving a careful nod.

“You’ve been dating about what, five months?” asked Sam.

“About that. I’m not gonna like, go ask this weekend or anything,” said Dean. “But I know I want to and that someday I will and I don’t…”

“Want to screw it up?” asked Sam. Dean hummed, Sam smiling at him. “How exactly could you screw it up?”

“I say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing or I ask and it’s too soon or I ask and she flat out says no and if she says no then I swear to god I’m calling off all dating forever and-“

Sam stood up and walked out of the family room and into Dean’s kitchen, finding a mug with a cute wolf on it and making some hot chocolate. He shoved it in Dean’s hands, staring at him until he took a sip.

“I don’t have a lot of experience in serious relationships but I don’t think there’s a right and wrong time for any of this crap. You tell her I love you when you love her. You moved in like a month a half ago and you’re even closer, not farther apart. You do stuff when it feels right, not on a timetable. I mean, is she your best friend?” asked Sam.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Duh.”

“Well she’s yours and best friends want each other to be happy. So instead of thinking of it as worst case for you, ask yourself...would you want your best friend to marry someone they weren’t completely in love with?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Dean with a smile. “I want her to be happy, whether it’s with me or someone else.”

“So stop worrying because she knows that’s the kind of guy you are and you do make her happy. She’s gonna say yes, whenever you do decide to ask,” said Sam.

“You drop any hints about this-“

“I won’t. I promise,” said Sam. “Better now you got that off your chest?”

“A little. There’s another issue actually…”

Two Months Later

“Hey, Dr. Bram,” said Dean, popping his head in his office. He’d only been one other time since his joint session with Y/N and saw the slight concern on the doctor’s face at his out of the blue phone call.

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram, giving him a smile. “It’s been a while. How are things?”

“Good. I’m good,” said Dean. Dr. Bram shut the door behind him, Dean sitting down in his usual spot, immediately taking some candy from the bowl.

“So what’s up?” asked Dr. Bram, taking a seat in his chair across from Dean.

“I...I’ve asked a few different people about this but I still don’t know the answer,” said Dean.

“Some questions other people can’t answer for you, Dean and you know I’m not going to give you one. I’ll help you lay it all out but I won’t make a decision for you,” he said.

“I know,” said Dean with a shy smirk. “It’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“So what do you want to talk about?” asked Dr. Bram.

“I want...I’m going to propose to Y/N. I don’t know when but once I figure out how I want to do it, I will,” said Dean.

“That doesn’t sound like a question,” said Dr. Bram with a soft smile. “Before we get to your question, I would like to talk about you proposing since it’s a very large life step.”

“Like what?” asked Dean.

“How many years have I known you, Dean?” asked Dr. Bram.

“About 27,” said Dean.

“So basically your whole life,” he said.

“Basically,” said Dean. “Not sure where you’re going with this…”

“It’s pretty unique. Most therapists don’t deal with a child and then watch that child grow up and turn into a man,” said Dr. Bram.

“Dude. The point you’re making is going way over my head,” said Dean.

“From the moment you walked in this room, correction, were dragged in this room by your parents and took a swing at me…” said Dr. Bram, Dean holding up his hands.

“Hey. Not my fault a 4 year old was tougher than you,” said Dean with a laugh.

“From the moment you walked in this room, Dean, you have been afraid. Afraid of something. Always. Afraid your dad left you in that house fire on purpose. Afraid you weren’t wanted, weren’t worth anything, were second class to everyone else. Afraid you were weak, afraid you were a failure, a disappointment, a son, a person, that wasn’t worthy of love. Even as an adult you were afraid to get close, afraid of pain and rejection, afraid you aren’t good enough. You have been afraid your entire life, Dean,” he said.

“And?” asked Dean.

“And now I see you are hopeful about your future with another person. You are happy and I know whatever you’re about to ask isn’t if you deserve Y/N. You are excited, maybe still a bit afraid but all of us are a little afraid, Dean. We have to live with it though and not let it be the main thing that drives us and I know it’s not driving you anymore,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Dean, giving a nod.

“Okay,” said Dr. Bram with a laugh. “Ask your burning question, Dean.”

“I always thought that if I found the right person for me, I would ask that person’s parents permission to marry them. To be respectful and it’s a bit old fashioned and all that but it was always something I thought I would do. But the relationship Y/N has with her parents, the relationship I have with them...I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” said Dean. “I want to ask but I’m asking people that don’t respect her and I don’t like how poorly they’ve treated her and if that’s the case then what the hell is the point of asking?”

“If you don’t ask, do you think you’ll regret it?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Maybe. To be honest, I don’t care if they say yes or no because it’s Y/N’s choice, not theirs. I always thought I would do that to be respectful to my potential future in laws,” he said.

“If they said no, would you still ask Y/N to marry you?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Yeah,” said Dean.

“Then this isn’t an issue about respecting your in laws Dean, not really. It’s about you wanting to bridge a gap but you’re afraid to put down the first plank,” he said.

“It’s the right thing to do,” said Dean.

“There is no right thing when it comes to marriage and love, Dean. I know your relationship with Y/N, probably better than most other people in your lives. You have the love and partnership part down. You have respect and friendship. Yes, trying to get along with your partner’s family is important but we both know that this situation is not about Y/N. It’s about you,” said Dr. Bram.

“How is this about me?” asked Dean.

“Y/N’s in the street, minding her own business. Maybe she’s picking up a piece of mail that the wind caught out of her hand. You’re in the driveway washing your car. She bends down to grab it just when you see a car come speeding down the road,” said Dr. Bram.

“I remember this question and I’m giving the same answer I gave for Sammy back in the day,” said Dean.

“The point is you want to protect her,” said Dr. Bram.

“You’re married. You have kids. You’re saying the right answer isn’t-“

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram. “Protecting people you care for is not a crime. It’s generally a perfectly healthy thing and I’m not saying you have an unhealthy need to protect Y/N.”

“Give it to me straight then, would you?” asked Dean.

“Well why are you really asking Y/N’s parents permission to marry their daughter?” he asked.

“I already told-“

“No, you didn’t. You’re not a child and you know I have and will never judge you for a single thing you say in this room and I have seen you in some very bad places, Dean. Just be honest with yourself. Why is it so important to ask?” asked Dr. Bram.

Dean closed his eyes, staring at his lap when he opened them a moment later, grabbing the bottom of his flannel and rubbing his fingers over the hem.

“It’s like you said. I’m afraid,” said Dean. “I’m afraid of fucking up everything. I’m 31 years old and I feel like I’m a stupid kid that can’t grow up.”

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram. “We’re taking a break for two minutes.”

Dean sighed but waited out the two minutes, a lot of the negative comments he wanted to make falling away.

“Now, I will ask again why asking is so important to you and I want a real answer this time,” said Dr. Bram.

“I didn’t get along with my dad. I mean, you know how I thought he felt about me and how I felt about myself and that stuff is so much better now. Honestly. But I guess...do you remember that time I wanted to runaway?” asked Dean.

“Yes. You were eight,” said Dr. Bram. “That wasn’t a fun evening.”

“I remember I had to talk to a cop and another woman,” said Dean.

“You were scaring me that night, Dean. I had to make sure that you were in a safe home,” he said.

“I know. I know that,” said Dean. “Dad was so careful around me for months after that, like he didn’t want to upset me.”

“What about the running away, Dean?” he asked.

“Remember...I had a big fight with Sammy. I don’t even remember what over, probably a toy or a game. The kid was only four after all. I remember him saying he hated me and wished I wasn’t his brother. My mom came in and tried to settle things down but she sided with Sam and I just took that as my whole family hates me and wished I wasn’t around. But it was Monday so it was Dr. Bram night. I got here and thought Dr. Bram is nice. He likes me. Maybe he can help me find a family that I’m good enough for,” said Dean.

“You got better after that night,” said Dr. Bram.

“Because I realized that someday I’d grow up and I could find someone I loved and they’d have a family and their family could be my new one,” said Dean.

“You never told me that,” said Dr. Bram.

“I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble again,” said Dean. Dr. Bram pinched the bridge of his nose, Dean looking away. “Dr. Bram, I swear my parents never-“

“I know. I know your parents love you very much,” said Dr. Bram.

“So I...I think it comes from this little kids dream of that was how I got a new family because surely any girl that loved me was going to come from the nicest people there ever were,” he said. “But in reality, they’re assholes.”

“Do you want a new family?” asked Dr. Bram. “No more Sam, no more Mary or John. No more cousins, aunts, uncles...you’re an adult Dean. You’re allowed to leave them behind if you want.”

“No,” said Dean. “They’re my family.”

“So you don’t want a new one?” he asked.

“I want Y/N in it and she is in it. I want her to be happy in it too,” said Dean.

“It sounds to me like you weren’t addressing the right question,” said Dr. Bram.

“It’s not me finding a new family. It’s me being afraid when I ask her parents if they want to join ours they say no...because I know what it’s like to have a bad relationship with my dad and I know what it feels like now that we’ve fixed it, fixed the bad parts. I want that for her too and I don’t want her to get stuck choosing us or them because they are assholes but I want her to have the option,” said Dean.

“See? You knew the whole time why you really wanted to ask,” said Dr. Bram with a smile.

“You are a dick sometimes,” said Dean, shaking his head at him.

“So now that you know the why you want to ask, I think that will help you figure out if you actually will,” he said. “And that’s five bucks to the swear jar.”

“Five bucks? Y/N gets to swear and she said she’s never had to pay-“

“Swear jar, Winchester,” he said. Dean grumbled as he pulled out his wallet and slapped five bucks down in the table. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Not really,” said Dean. Dr. Bram hummed and stood up, going to his computer.

“Alright, you got the next hour booked too so let’s keep going,” he said as he did something on it.

“But it’s Friday. You only do half days,” said Dean.

“Like I said, let’s keep going.”

One Month Later

Dean had to wait until he had an excuse to travel without Y/N knowing about it. Carla invited her out to LA for a few days for a girls trip up the coast, completely and one hundred percent at Dean’s begging so he’d have a chance to get away. After Carla knew why he wanted it a secret, she was down to help but he felt bad about lying to Y/N.

Still, this was something he needed to do on his own.

The flight to Florida was fast and Dean barely checked into his hotel before he was driving to the Y/L/N’s place. A waterfront gated community on a golf course that oozed money and made Dean’s stomach churn. His jaw dropped when he saw their house and realized Y/N grew up in places like this. For a moment he panicked, thinking he wasn’t good enough, didn’t give her enough but paused like he needed to. Y/N was the same chick that wore ten year old sneakers, the same that shopped at Walmart, the same that used her own money she earned and saved the rest for things like her scar surgery.

God, Dean knew she was getting close to going back to the doctor and making a plan with him. Maybe another month or two at most. She’d found a new scar cream that her insurance covered that worked a lot better than the original one, even the few stubborn ones that never faded blending in more. Plus it acted as a sunscreen which Dean was grateful she’d actually been putting on considering how hot and sunny it’s been that spring.

Dean eventually climbed out of the rental car and walked up to the front door, only slightly surprised when a woman opened the door.

“Mr. Winchester?” she asked. “The Y/L/N’s are on the patio. Lunch will be served shortly. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A bottle of water is fine,” said Dean, the woman smiling as she lead him through a large main hall that went to the back of the house, Dean pausing when he caught a picture on the wall. “She’s adorable.”

“Ms. Y/L/N always impressed me with how she could be throwing a tantrum over being put in a dress one moment and look like a darling angel in front of the camera in the next,” she said with a smile.

“Are you Miss Abby?” asked Dean, the woman smiling. “Y/N’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Abby, sir,” she said with a laugh.

“Well Abby, I’m just Dean,” he said with a chuckle.

“I like you, Dean,” she said, showing him the bathroom and kitchen, Dean catching glimpses of a few more photos along the way. He could see the smile get a bit more forced as the years went on, so subtle he wasn’t surprised these other people didn’t pick up on it. He was pretty sure no one on earth knew Y/N’s smile like he did. “Mr. Winchester has arrived Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Abby,” said Y/N’s father, standing from his patio chair, holding a glass of wine in one hand. “Dean, glad you could make it. Flight down okay?”

“Yeah,” said Dean.

“Y/N mentioned when we were in London you’re not a big fan of it,” he said.

“Not really but shorter flights I’m okay with,” said Dean, getting his bottle of water when Abby returned. “Thanks.”

“Abby, give him some wine and put that water in a glass,” he said, Abby quickly taking it back and walking away. “Sorry about that.”

“I asked for a bottle of water so…” said Dean, forgetting about that battle for the moment. He heard the door open again and watched Y/N’s mom step outside in a nice sundress.

“Hello, Dean,” she said, a little cool, not quite cold and Dean was going to run with it for now. After making idle chit chat about his travel and hotel, Abby returned with three plates full of a nice looking cooked salmon and something on the side even Dean wasn’t sure of. He was quiet as he ate, Y/N’s parents talking about how this was one of their summer houses and had a great view of the ocean from the second floor and a wonderful view of the golf course from the back.

Dean hummed as they talked, watching them point out things in the backyard, poking at the dessert fruit salad Abby brought out after a while. It was a nice home and all but Dean could tell why Y/N had hated most of the houses she grew up in. It just felt cold there.

“So Dean, before we chat your ear off, what brings you down to our neck of the woods? You mentioned wanting to talk to us in person and not to tell Y/N about it?” asked Y/N’s father.

“Yes, I did,” said Dean, sitting forward in his seat. “I would like to marry your daughter.”

“You were not very kind to us last we spoke,” said her father.

“I know. I was attempting to protect Y/N from what I saw as something harmful to her,” said Dean.

“We’re her parents,” said her mom.

“Anyone can screw and make a kid. Being a parent is more than that,” said Dean, getting a glare from them both. “Parents do not go years without seeing their child when they have money out their asses and can afford to stop by and visit. They don’t let other people raise their children. They don’t put their children down. They do not blame their child when they are attacked, especially when it was by someone they trusted. All your daughter ever wanted was to be worth your time, to have some attention and that is not selfish of her. It’s human. You were not good parents to her. Plain and simple, you were not. To be honest, I don’t like either one of you but your daughter loves you so I’m going to try for her.”

“If we’re being honest, Dean, I think you’re abrasive, cocky and think you know everything,” said Y/N’s father. “And the old me probably would have tossed you out the door and said good riddance.”

“But last time we saw you, the only time we’ve met you, I saw how true it was when you said we had to change or lose our daughter. We were losing her far before you showed up,” said Y/N’s mom, her face easing some.

“After England and we came home again, we contacted Dr. Bram. He’s been very successful with Y/N and we asked about getting some help for ourselves,” said Y/N’s dad.

“Yourselves?” asked Dean.

“We’ve been seeing a therapist here for close to three months. Twice a week,” said her mom.

“How’s that?” asked Dean.

“We weren’t big fans at first but we think it’s helping,” she said.

“You could apologize to Abby for how you spoke to her earlier. She asked what I wanted, I told her, and you assumed she was incorrect,” said Dean.

“I will. Abby is very much involved with helping us see mistakes along with other members of staff,” said her father.

“It’s not mistakes. You’re just learning how to be a better person,” said Dean.

“That’s insightful,” said Y/N’s mom.

“It’s a Dr. Bram thing,” said Dean.

“Have you gone with Y/N before?” she asked.

“Once. I’m a patient of his as well, have been since I was a kid,” said Dean. He watched them look at each other, lips parting as Dean lifted his chin. “When I say it’s possible to salvage a relationship with Y/N, I’m speaking from personal experience with my own father. But you two have to try like your life depends on it. I listen when you talk on the phone with her. You talk about yourselves a lot and not so much her. You should ask her about her life more. It means more than you realize.”

“You said you came here to ask permission to marry our daughter yet it sounds like you’re trying to tell us how to be parents,” said Y/N’s dad.

“I just want you to be kind and good to her and if you’re not, stay out of her life. Give her that courtesy. She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to raise her. She just needs you to be there for her when she needs it,” said Dean.

“How exactly do you know that?” he asked.

“I have a father that disowned me about a year ago. Now we have the best relationship we’ve ever had in our entire lives. I know it’s only like that because Y/N said things to him I couldn’t, stood up for me when I couldn’t. She wanted him to realize he was hurting me and when he did, he changed, for me. All I’m trying to do is give that back to her. I want you to be a part of our lives, a part of our family, but only if you actually learn what that means,” said Dean.

“Y/N wasn’t in our plan,” said her father after a long few silent moments, staring out across the golf course. “Kids weren’t. Then she showed up and we were so, so happy. When she got home from the hospital, the nanny changed her diapers. You know, I did not change a single one of my daughter’s diapers. I paid someone to do that because that’s how I grew up, both of us. Throw money at problem you don’t want to deal with. At first we only wanted the good parts, the cute baby stuff, none of the mess. But she got bigger, more complicated and we didn’t know when the good was going to come so we got distant and we are fucking assholes for it. We are exactly the stuck up rich assholes you think we are, Dean.”

“And it’s a little too late to ask for forgiveness from a person that has every right to hate us,” said Y/N’s mother.

“She does not hate you. She loves you. You just make her sad and feel bad about herself,” said Dean.

“We can’t fix that damage,” she said.

“Your daughter used to wear long sleeves, all the time. She hid her body away because she was embarrassed of the scars covering it. Now, now she wears pretty sundresses like that one you have on that show off these big things covering her and she doesn’t think twice. Do you know how she got there? Because it took a lot, and I mean a lot, of work to make sure she knew down to her core that I thought she was beautiful. She is. I’m not blind and I see the scars but I don’t see them the same way she does. I see the most amazing woman on earth and she finally sees it too. It’s not too late to try. But it’s not an easy fix and it’s not something you can throw money at,” said Dean.

“You can’t even see how in love with her you are, can you?” asked Y/N’s mom with a smile. “You’re trying to save something for her, even though you despise us. You flew down here when you’re afraid of flying. You’re hopelessly in love with her.”

“I will gladly be hopelessly in love with her for the rest of eternity,” said Dean.

“You have permission to marry our daughter on one condition,” said Y/N’s father.

“Quite frankly sir, I don’t give a shit about your condition. I’m going to ask your daughter to marry me whether I have your blessing or not. I came here to say that no matter what your answer is, you can still be part of our family. All I ask is that you try,” said Dean. “That’s it.”

“You can marry our daughter if you promise to keep loving her the way you so clearly do and fix our mistakes,” he said.

“She’s not broken. She never has been,” said Dean.

“I think you’ll handle the condition just fine,” he said with a sad smile.

“Thank you,” said Dean with a nod, standing up.

“No, please stay,” said Y/N’s mom. “I think we’d both like to talk to you some more.”

“Sure. We can do that.”

“So,” said Sam the next evening, picking Dean up from the airport. “How’d the super secret classified mission go?”

“They’re trying. They’re going to start trying even harder now. That’s good,” said Dean.

“And the asking to marry their daughter thing?” asked Sam, Dean nodding.

“I’m gonna marry, Y/N someday,” said Dean with a soft smile, leaning his head against the window. “I hope.”

“She’s gonna say yes,” teased Sam.

“You don’t know that,” said Dean.

“I totally do know it,” said Sam. “You make her sickeningly happy too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just take me home, Sammy. I got an engagement to figure out.”

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean #winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean spn #dean supernatural #au #broken like me timestamp #model!dean x reader #series #fluff #angst #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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soholdmetightao3 · 7 years ago

Text

Friendly Remind that John Winchester Wasn’t Some Nice Guy who Changed Over Night

Recently I had a conversation with another Supernatural fan. We were discussing John Winchester’s parenting, and how some people believe John was a nice guy in the first season until the writers changed the originally intended purpose of John’s character. I’d just to like to take a moment right now to say John Winchester being a bad parent is nothing new. John Winchester was not father of the year season one, nor was he former father of the year for season two. The writers didn’t create some happy go lucky, fun loving, emotionally intelligent, understanding father and then decide to change him for plot purposes.

I think we can all agree that yes, John is a complicated character who can’t simply be ‘all good’ or ‘all bad.’ Complexity is part of what makes characters interesting- one sided, never developing characters are boring and don’t last very long. John watched his wife, the woman he loved, burn alive on the ceiling of his infant son’s bedroom- of course the guy was going to make mistakes. He was definitely put in a horrible situation, and John only did what he thought was best. John kept his sons with him (except for those stretches of three of four days when the boys would be alone but hey whatever) because he wanted to make sure they were safe. John trained his boys so they could protect themselves if they were ever in the situation that John could not protect his boys (and it definitely came in handy) because he thought that was for the best. John gave his boys the weapons to protect themselves and the knowledge to know how to do so because he thought it was best.

But did John really think it was for the best to give his eight year old son alcohol? ”But it was probably just a taste,” readers shout. “What kid doesn’t want to ‘be a man’ like his dad? It’s not uncommon for kids to have a sip of alcohol once or twice in their childhood! Everybody loves Bobby and he was the town drunk!”

John drank too much, he raised one son who drank too much and two sons who grew up thinking alcohol was a coping mechanism for failures. See 3x10 Dream a Little Dream of Me.

Dean: There you are. What are you doing?

Sam: Having a drink.

Dean: It's two in the afternoon. You're drinking whiskey?

Sam: I drink whiskey all the time.

Dean: No, you don't.

Sam: What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?

Dean: It's kind of slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?

Sam: I tried, Dean.

Dean: To do what?

Sam: To save you. I mean, where you're going... what you're gonna become. I can't stop it.

See how the Winchesters work? Failure to protect family at all costs= personal failure, personal failure= inexcusable wrongdoing, inexcusable wrongdoing= sadness, sadness= no closure that’s for sure because emotions are only for women because only women have feelings and being like a woman is wrong? All of that = drinking instead of honestly discussing feelings or, you know, something which is actually healthy and productive. And of course that kind of mentality has tainted their relationships with other characters (Dean and Sam are responsible for their own choices but how much easier would it be for them to communicate with each other and others if they had been raised to honest and open?).

“But Cas didn’t even show up until season four, John didn’t have an impact on his son’s lack of friends!”

*cough*

...Whether you like John or not, we can all agree that Dean’s main coping mechanism is drinking.

“John wasn’t actually an alcoholic- we never even saw him drink! That’s something new that the writers made up!

Dean: Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days.

Sam: So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.

- THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE SHOW

You can see the impact John had over his sons long before he died, even when John was alive things were difficult. There were lines the boys did not cross, things they did not say, things they did not do. And one man they were not supposed to question

I’ll just... leave these here.

(Dean protecting Sam from their dad because Dean will always protect Sam, Sam arguing with John because he’s watched Dean be belittled his entire life and let me tell you that does not make for a comfortable sibling-parent relationship because you see your parent as a threat to your sibling, a threat to someone you love. In this case, not only did Sam love Dean but Dean was his parent. So Sam grew up watching John yell at Dean and belittle him as they drove around the country, Sam watched John abuse his big brother, his caretaker, his best friend.)

And John’s huge emphasis on family and loyalty caused Sam and Dean to think it was wrong to pursue individual happiness, that going after what you want (for example, a career as a lawyer, a loving possible future fiancé, making friends, etc) was selfish and a waste of time. I mean Sam’s “rebellious phase” was going to school...

Dean: And that's why you ran away.

Sam: I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

Dean: Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.

Sam spent his entire life trying to fit in, all he ever did was study for school- to get into one of the best school’s in the country- and all of his hard work that his father responded to with “If you’re gonna go you should stay gone” is brushed off with a single, “Yeah, well.” AKA Your personal accomplishments don’t matter Sammy because we were raised thinking that happiness lived and died with family.

When Sam (Sam, who never got to have a relationship with his mom; Sam, who spent his entire life switching schools; Sam, who had to start over on different curriculum with new kids and new teachers his entire life; Sam, who always argued with his dad and didn’t feel comfortable telling him anything; Sam, whose childhood was consumed with “being a freak”) was finally benefiting from his years of hard work and was able to proudly (but he probably didn’t say it proudly because school wasn’t what John wanted for Sam so of course he wouldn’t be proud of Sam’s work) say he was accepted into one of the best schools in the entire country with a FULL RIDE, what does his dad do? His dad tells him to get out, to leave the only family- the only life- he’s ever known, and stay gone.

Don’t forget that even if Sam gave up everything he had spent his entire life working towards (Stanford, being a lawyer, being with college friends, working through what happened to Jess instead of hunting) it wouldn’t have been enough because Sam had demon blood in him, Sam was evil.

Anything outside of the norm is considered a monster and monsters are wrong.

Yes, it was canon that a father told his eldest son he would have to murder his little brother (John’s baby, a child) if he became something John wouldn’t want him to be.

So aside from the whole ‘all of your accomplishments are selfish, wanting anything for yourself mean you’re selfish and want people to die, I’m going to abuse your big brother in front of you as you grow up because that won’t complicate our relationship, you know when I’m not abusing/neglecting you, oh and also I’m okay with you being murdered if it comes down to it and what you are is wrong and evil’ John and Sam apparently had the better of the two father son relationships?

Don’t even get me started on Dean.

‘You’re still not good enough, Dean. You ruined this car, you ruined something I gave to you- I wouldn’t have given you the impala if I knew you were going to ruin it. If you don’t touch up your car (do as I say) it’ll get even worse, because the only right way to do things is my way. If you’re not pleasing John Winchester then what you’re doing has no value or purpose.’

Maybe if John looked around once in a while he could see that his children

are really good

smart

caring people

who deserve better.

And I’m all about family loyalty but we’ve seen over and over and over again that if Dean or Sam were to lose one another they would feel personally responsible, they would blame themselves for the work of demons or angels or monsters- because it’s their job, their responsibility to look out for one another, to save one another. They will always be responsible for one another, if something happens to one of them it is automatically the other brother’s fault.

No Sam, don’t you get it? Can’t you see how Dean (a child) was responsible for you, not your dad who was god knows where?

That’s not poor parenting, oh no.

... You see how this thinking is kind of unhealthy?

‘Sorry I couldn’t find a way to bring your dead body back to life, this is clearly my fault because obviously bringing a dead person back to life is super easy. I didn’t save you; I didn’t protect my family so I’m a failure.’

And this is just the first two seasons! I didn’t even get to

this

or this

or this (Because living any other kind of life- not being a hunter- would mean failing to save people, it would mean innocent people would die due to Sam or Dean’s selfish desires. Wanting a happy life= selfishness)

or this

(“And when dad got home...”) or this.

The writers didn’t “change John’s character” they just explored how it affected his sons.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural rant #John Winchester was not a good dad #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Dean and Sam Winchester were abused #John Winchester was abusive #the CW #the CW supernatural #angry fangirl #dean winchester deserves better #Sam Winchester deserves better #hunting

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