#and cas has jimmy’s lungs maybe

[shallowstories]

SPN AU where the thrust of the story runs on a familial illness + doing dirty deals with illegal organ smuggling and harvesting companies.

“We’ll get you a heart for ‘im, but we’ll come for you in one year. Oh, and Dean. You won’t be able to hide from us.”

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 307

Gods and Monsters

“Gods and Monsters”

Plot Description: as Sam, Mary, and Bobby look into a new clue, Nick seeks a killer from his past while Jack searches for a sense of family

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: as long as I never get visited by Michael, I’m good. But holy shit…I don’t think just about anyone would make it out of his human experiments alive

It’s still really weird to have a version of Bobby back, even if he doesn’t have the same connection with the boys

It must be eating Cas up that he can’t join the Duluth trip. But Michael sensing his presence would ruin it and it’s not like staying with Jack and Nick isn’t a necessary job

Jack has so many mannerisms from Castiel, it’s pretty adorable. You can tell Jack really looks up to him

Oh, Nick (I’m glad we got that flashback though because I definitely forgot what happened to him to say yes to Lucifer)

Oh…he’s trying to make angel-vampire hybrids (those words are not as easy to put together as vampire and pirates to make vampirates)

Dadstiel is just SO!!!!

You know, if it doesn’t exist already, how is there not a YA book about an angel and a vampire?

UMMMM, excuse me?! That…that’s not a normal human reaction. That snap is what Lucifer would have done to turn someone to dust

Michael is a fucking monster

………if there were no suspicious fingerprints found at Nick’s house after his wife and son were killed, what is the next probable thing? 😐😐😐

Oh no. Oh no, Cas….don’t listen to Nick. He doesn’t know shit about anything. Look, some angels definitely are stone cold body snatchers, but not you. You would have given Jimmy his life back (and I’m pretty sure you did at some point). It’s not your fault that you died and were pieced back together sans Jimmy

I mean…he’s not wrong that Chuck is pretty much on permanent vacation, but claiming to be akin to the new god is pretty blasphemous of Michael to say

Oh no…Michael’s perfected the hybrids

Jack was named after his grandfatherrrrrrrr

Jack having to lie about how he knew Kelly is…he’s doing it surprisingly well. It’s not a full lie to say that she basically gave him his start but he won’t dissuade her parents from thinking they knew each other from work

My heart is absolutely breaking listening to Jack talk about Kelly to her parents. He’s so sweet and earnest even while not telling them that she’s dead. It’s like they can tell they’re family…I’m in tears

I don’t like feeling this angry at Jensen’s character

Jack!! You can’t say Dean doesn’t matter. JPad could NOT carry this show. They HAVE to save Dean

Nick going after his old neighbor to try to solve his family’s murder…I think the neighbor made up the first story to cover up it being Nick (even if maybe he was possessed by a demon? Demons don’t need permission)

Oh good, at least almost nothing works to fight off the werewolf hybrids. You know, after saying Michael was Bella Swan because of his lack of personality and then him going to the vampires and then werewolves……

I trust that Michael is fully gone

YEAH…wait, fucking hell, Nick. You didn’t have to kill your old neighbor with a hammer. You’re not doing a good job of making believe you didn’t kill your family, too (also, Castiel, you had one job and you let both Jack and Nick leave the bunker)

(Megumi needed some extra attention tonight so we’re only doing one show. You know you’re having A Night when you can be looking her dead in the eyes and saying “hi my baby. hiii my babyyy,” but the moment you blink, she lunges at your face. Maybe she’ll calm down if I put on one piece)

[clairenatural]

Suptober 2020, Day 12: Rewind (destiel, human!cas, anxiety/panic attack cw, hurt/comfort, 650 words)

Castiel has never needed to breathe before.

He had, of course. Or, his vessel had—even when Jimmy was gone the body still breathed, blood still pumped; the more homeostasis the body could maintain on its own, the less work his grace had to do. But breathing—it had always just happened. He’d never thought about it. He’d never relied on it. He’d never been afraid of the oxygen stopping.

He thinks maybe that’s why he keeps forgetting how.

It’s not like forgetting to eat, or sleep, or drink water. He forgets to do those things, too, but Dean is usually there to bring him dinner or drag him to bed when he falls asleep on his research, and he doesn’t—he doesn’t forget how.

Forgetting how to breathe feels violent. Like his own body is rejecting him, shutting him out. And maybe it is—it’s not his body, after all. Not really. When Anna fell her grace was reborn as a soul. Her body was her own, grown from scratch, every cell—but this one? He invaded it, destroyed its owner, and is living here on extended squatter’s rights.

That’s the reason his lungs give up the first time. He looks into the mirror and Jimmy Novak’s face stares back at him. He realizes Claire has those same eyes—her dad’s eyes—and the lungs that have never really been his freeze. Dean finds him, that time, hyperventilating on the bathroom floor. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t hesitate—he drops to his knees and pulls Castiel close, letting him sob into his neck until the shaking stops. He’s sad, but not scared. Like he’s seen this before. Like he was worried this would happen. Like it happens to him, too.

(It does, Dean will tell him later. It has, for a long time. Castiel isn’t sure if that’s comforting.)

Most of the time, now, it happens at night. He dreams, and his dreams rewind through his greatest regrets—the Leviathan, Balthazar, Rachel. Samandriel. The hundreds of Dean clones he was forced to kill. The time he almost killed the real one. The blood he shed on Earth, a soldier waving Heaven’s flag. The blood he shed in Heaven, shoved into a civil war he never wanted to lead. All the gaps in his endless memory where Heaven reset him like a defective android. May Sunder. Jimmy. Amelia. Claire.

He wakes into the darkness, lungs filled with black tar, and wonders what makes this much different from the Empty fate he narrowly escaped.

After a few times, he learns how not to wake Dean—he manages to hold it off until the hallway, or the bathroom. Sometimes he makes it all the way outside and lays in the grass, back pressed into the earth and gazing at the stars, grounding him to both.

Dean finds him anyway, every time. He hugs Cas if he wants to be hugged, he stays with him silently if he does not. When he won’t (or can’t) open the door, Dean sits on the other side, and Cas can feel his calming presence through the wood. Stable. Safe.

On the nights he ends up outside Dean brings out a blanket, large enough to share, and makes up constellations until Castiel is calm enough to correct him. Dean holds Jimmy’s his face in his hands and he only sees Cas. Dean wraps him in his arms and, for a moment, his newly-human soul stops trying to climb its way out of this body. Dean listens to him sob about the things he’s done, and brings him chamomile tea, and presses soft kisses to his forehead.

He gets better about remembering to eat. He remembers, more often, that this human body needs sleep. And the nights where he wakes up without air in his lungs, ink seeping into his bones like the Empty coming to take him after all, Dean is there to remind him how to breathe.

[goodfemalecharacters]

14x08 Coda: What Happy Feels Like

destiel, 1.2k

Once they’re done with dinner, Cas helps Dean clear the plates into the kitchen.  He’s been unusually quiet this evening, but Dean chalks it up to the stressful day they’ve had.  And maybe the whiskey from last night.  God knows that Dean’s head rings every time he speaks above a whisper.  He’s just been too relieved to bother toning it down.

“That the rest of it?” he asks, gesturing at the two cups Cas is holding.

He dunks one of the plates into the warm, soapy water in the sink as he speaks.  Sam’s, he thinks, judging by the half burger that had been left on it.  Kid has never been all that good at eating the day after he gets drunk.

Cas nods. “I told Jack to get some rest.  Sam’s helping him get his room back to normal.”

Dean can’t help but smile at that.  Goodbye, oxygen tank.  Hopefully, they’ll never have to see that again.

He takes his time rinsing the plate.  He’d extend this moment forever, if he could.  Well, minus the headache from his hangover.  

“You know, the older I get, the less I understand him.”

It pops out without his permission.  He almost hopes that Cas won’t ask, but he knows better than that.  Instead, he turns his attention to drying, moving the towel in slow, careful circles.

“Sam?”

Dean holds back a laugh at that.  Sam has been inscrutable since he mastered his poker face at age eight, but Dean can read even that.  Making sure he didn’t tick Dad off too bad had required it.

“Dad.”

Cas moves to the sink, grabs a plate.  They work in tandem for a few minutes.  The repetition of tasks like this—jobs you do in a house, calming in their simplicity—has always been soothing.  Working side by side with Cas more so.

“The year Sam and I were looking for him, I had an accident on a hunt.” He sets the clean plate down on the counter and takes to drying the one Cas hands him next. “Stupid, really.  I got electrocuted.  Sammy took me to a doctor, and he told me I had a month, max.”

Like most of Dean’s pre-Hell memories, it feels like something that happened to someone else.  Or something he watched in a movie once.  The pain, though, that he remembers like it was yesterday.

“We called Dad.  He didn’t come.”

Another plate done.  Dean mechanically takes the next one, scrubs at some imaginary dried food Cas left on the corner.  

“I wasn’t angry.” He lets out a little laugh at that. “I wasn’t.  And, God, I should have been, because if I got that call from Jack—”

Of course, he wasn’t in the room when Jack died.  And he’s not sure he’ll ever forgive himself for that.

“You’re a much better father than yours was,” Cas says slowly, never once taking his eyes off his plate.

Something in Dean’s chest seizes, and not in a bad, electrocuted kind of way.

“Yeah, well.  Doesn’t take much.”

It feels good to say it.  Better than Dean expected.  To his credit, Cas doesn’t comment.  He just keeps cleaning the last plate, traveling in methodical circles around and around.  Dean feels his throat close over and he can’t say why.

“Never thought I’d be—”

He cuts himself off, but Cas can tell what he means.

“This is your white picket fence,” he says thoughtfully. “This bunker, this life.”

Before Dean’s brain can get around to telling his tongue to shut the hell up, he speaks.

“You.”

Cas stops cleaning.  He doesn’t move to put the dish down.  Just stands there, comically frozen, a look on his face that Dean can’t quite read.

Damnit.

Now that he’s opened the floodgates, he can’t stop.

“I think—I think you’re my white picket fence.  My end game.”

He’s not sure who moves first.  Cas tosses the plate aside—it’s a miracle it doesn’t break—and practically lunges toward him.  Dean drops his towel and he doesn’t even mind that Cas’s hand is still soapy when it wraps around his waist.

Sam walks into the kitchen approximately forty-five seconds later to the sight of a pile of half-washed dishes and Cas crowding his brother against the counter.

He decides that it’s bedtime.

An hour after Dean drifts off to sleep, Cas is still tracing the curves of his face with his eyes.  There are lines there that hadn’t yet been etched into his face when they met.  Each one tells the story of a life Dean never thought the would have—growing old with someone he loves.

A life he never will have, now.

Selfishly, Cas thinks that this is it for Dean.  That even once his deal comes due, he won’t be able to have this with someone else.

Maybe he’s wrong.  Maybe Dean doesn’t need him to be happy, not like Cas needs Dean.

There’s a part of him that wants to shake Dean awake and tell him the truth, but Cas can tell it’s not going to settle the horrible ache in his chest.  It’ll only make it worse.

Instead, he shrugs his way out from underneath Dean’s arm and the tangle of sheets.  Dean shifts in his sleep but doesn’t wake.

Cas slips out the door and down the hall.  He finds Sam sitting on the floor outside of Jack’s door.  If Sam realizes that he’s just exited Dean’s room in the middle of the night, he doesn’t show it.  Instead, he nods at the door.

“He’s asleep.  No more of that wheezing breath, either.”

The last few days, Jack has sounded like he’s gasping his last all the time.

“Can I—?”

Sam nods again.  Cas eases the door open and pokes his head inside.  Jack doesn’t even stir in his sleep—dying and reviving in less than twenty-four hours tends to do that to you, Cas supposes.  

He wants more time.

Instead, Cas takes a breath.  Prays that this isn’t what happy feels like.

Just to reassure himself, he walks quietly into Jack’s room.  He’s sleeping on his side, curled around a pillow.  It’s muscle memory—maybe Jimmy’s, even though this has long since been Cas’s body—to brush the hair from his forehead.

There’s none of the cold sweat from his illness.  When Cas kisses his forehead, he half expects to drop dead on the spot.  

He backs out of the room.  Sam offers him a tired smile.

For a wild moment, he wants to tell him.  But Sam doesn’t deserve that burden.  Not when he’s lighter than he’s been since the moment he realized that Cas was possessed by Lucifer three years ago.

“Good night, Sam.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, looking knowingly at Dean’s door, but he doesn’t say a word as Cas turns his back.

He should go.  Beg the Empty to take him now, screw the happiness it thinks he’ll ever earn.  Spare them—spare Dean—the pain of trying to stop the inevitable.  He knows better than to hope that his deal will remain secret for long.

He’s too much a coward.  Instead, Cas walks back to Dean’s room, opens the door.  Dean’s eyes blink open in the sudden light.  He grumbles something incomprehensible under his breath as he pulls the covers back.  Cas crawls back into bed.  The memory foam still has an imprint from his body.

“Night,” Dean murmurs, tucking his face into the crook of Cas’s neck.

How could he ever be happy knowing what he’s leaving behind?

(ao3)

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

My Eyes - Part 10

Pairing: Bucky; Steve x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 5,421

Story Description: Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

Story takes place post “CA: CW” and all tension has been resolved.

Previously On...

“Nat, for the last time, I’m not going to your birthday party.” Bucky and Nat were sparring in the gym.

“But it’s my birthday! You have to do anything I ask!” She retorted as he blocked yet another one of her attacks.

They had been going at it for an hour now and they were both breathing heavily. Bucky was just wearing baggy short and no shirt. Nat was only wearing a sports bra and capri leggings. Despite being half dressed and covered in sweat, there was zero sexual tension in the room. It was all training and business.

“Can’t I just buy you a gift? I’ll even get you a cake!” Bucky offered.

Nat shook her head. “Nope. The only gift I’ll accept is you attending my birthday party.”

“Romanoff… It ain’t happening.” Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

Then she gave him her infamous smirk. “I guess we’ll just have to fight for it.”

Bucky narrowed his gaze. “Fine.”

“I win, you come to my party and you even let me pick out your outfit. You win, and you don’t even have to get me a gift.” Nat offered.

Bucky moved to a fighting stance. “You got yourself a deal.”

Nat didn’t need any other cue and lunged for him. Most recruits were terrified to fight Bucky. It was mostly she, Sam, and T’Challa that were brace enough. But the royal king was rarely at the compound to fill in.

Nat had to admit, most days, Bucky had the upper hand. He had brute strength on his side, not to mention the metal arm. He was almost twice her height and was a good enough sniper to rival Clint.

But the Black Widow was trained to be a woman fighting men. She was resourceful and went into every fight knowing she was more likely to lose… And that was exactly why she rarely did.

Nat was mostly on the defense, biding her time until she saw the perfect window to take Bucky down. He was oblivious to this specific tactic and was naïve to think that it would be over soon.

Then she caught it. Bucky pulled a punch from his metal arm and it set off his perfect balance just a sliver. Nat threw a kick at the exact spot that would further mess up his equilibrium. The point wasn’t for the kick to actually do any damage. But once she was controlling where the weight of his body was, she went in for the kill. She sprinted forward and her legs formed into a flying scissor, wrapping around Bucky’s neck. Using her body weight to her advantage, she twisted her torso and used all her strength to pull Bucky down to the ground.

Despite this being her infamous style of fighting, she still managed to surprise her teammates with it.

With both of them on the ground, Nat still had the upper hand. Bucky’s neck was in a vice-like grip between her muscular legs. She tightened her grip, choking him. He tried to get out of her hold. But the angle was too strange for even his metal arm to escape from it. His face was going pink from lack of oxygen.

“I can’t wait to pick out your outfit.” Nat commented cheekily. Then she released him.

“I hate that fucking move…” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Nat smiled as she grabbed her water bottle and walked out of the gym.

---

Bucky was grateful that Nat’s birthday party was a more casual than the usual Avenger events. Bucky usually snuck his way out of most of them. Clearly, this was not one of those times.

Nat was true to her word and made Bucky wear exactly what she wanted. He ended up in dark wash jeans, a crisp white button up, and combat boots. But Nat claimed it was the grungy motorcycle jacket that completed the outfit. Bucky had already owned all of the clothes, but apparently he didn’t know how to combine them to her liking. She even made him let her do his hair. By the end of her efforts, she said he looked like a 90s heartthrob. Like always, the reference went over his head. A bet was a bet, and he had followed through. At least in these clothes he could actually breathe.

There were a couple hundred guests. Apparently being a spy with multiple identities got you a lot of friends. There were a lot of SHIELD agents, but there seemed to be some normal civilians too.

The compound had extra security service for events like these. After the whole situation with Ultron, Tony got a little uptight about having guests.

Bucky’s eyes lit up as he caught sight of Thor across the room. Even when he was wearing Midgardian clothing, he still stuck out like the godly being he was. Bucky left his quiet and secluded corner to approach him.  

“Thor, please tell me you have that Asgardian liquor on you.” Bucky pleaded.

“Ah! James! It is good to see you too!” Thor pushed sarcasm as his friend bypassed the polite greeting.

“Right. Sorry, Thor. Hi, how are you?” Bucky’s cheeks reddened slightly. It was these stupid parties to blame for he rudeness. He hated them.

Thor seemed to pick up on his stress and patted him on the shoulder. “I only jest, my friend. Of course I have my famed spirits.” Without further conversation, Thor grabbed an empty glass from a passing waiter and filled it halfway.

Bucky thanked him graciously. Once he had a few sips, he allowed himself to relax and conversed with Thor. A few more sips and he realized he was starting to enjoy himself.

Then he happened to glance at the entrance and spotted a beautiful woman entering. He did a double take: the beautiful woman was Y/N.

Bucky quickly turned his back so she couldn’t spot him. His eyes searched the crowd for Natasha. Chugging the rest of his liquid and slamming it down on the nearest surface, Bucky excused himself from his conversation with Thor.

Nat was in the middle of a chat with Wanda and someone he didn’t know. Not caring if he was rude, Bucky gripped Nat’s arm and practically ripped her away. He found a secluded corner and pushed her against the wall.

“You just really wanted me to come to your birthday party, huh?” He asked with accusation in his voice.

Nat immediately put on an innocent expression.

“Guess it just slipped your mind that you invited Y/N and that you somehow convinced her to actually come?” Bucky continued in a growl.

“Would you have come if I told you?” Nat snapped back.

Bucky narrowed his gaze and finally dropped the tight grip he had on her arm.

It had been a month since Bucky confessed his darkest secret to Y/N. He hadn’t found the courage to return since. He talked to Jimmy every couple of days on the phone. But there was never a conversation between Y/N and Bucky.

“For once, can you just stay out of my business?” Bucky growled at her.

“Meddling is kind of my thing. I work in espionage, Barnes. What do you expect?” Nat really didn’t feel guilty. Someone had to push the two of them.  

Bucky let out a growl of frustration. He was so not prepared to have this confrontation tonight.

He pointed an aggressive finger at Nat. “For the record, I’m letting this slip since it’s your birthday. You better believe your ass is mine next time we spar.”

Nat smirked. “I look forward to it.” And then she was slipping back into the party.

Bucky took in a deep breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk Thor’s alcohol. Now he was feeling sick. No more for him, only earthly drinks. If he was going to face this, he had to do it with a clear head.

Eventually he had the courage to head back inside the center of the party. He found Sam leaning against the bar. Bucky joined him, ordering a beer from the bartender.

“Y/N’s here.” Sam said calmly, thinking he was giving his friend a fair warning.

“Oh, I’m well aware.” Bucky replied cynically and took a large gulp of his beer.

“She looks good.” Sam complimented in a non-threatening way.

Bucky nodded and looked at the men in her vicinity. Their eyes were all on her. She was oblivious as she said hi to old friends she hadn’t seen in years.

“Yeah… you’re not the only one to notice.” Bucky muttered darkly.  

But Sam was right: Y/N looked absolutely beautiful. It was like no time had passed since the first day he met her. There had never been a time when Bucky had seen Y/N all dolled up. She was always undone and natural. He preferred her that way, if he were being honest. But seeing her with the sexy pink slip, high heels, and glamorous makeup… he couldn’t complain. However, he could complain about other men ogling her.  

“You know, if the Winter Soldier took his claim, none of those other suckers would go within 5 feet of her.” Sam chuckled. He couldn’t deny, it was entertaining watching Bucky grumble.

“She’s not a piece of property, Sam.” Bucky retorted. He looked at the bar instead of Y/N. It wasn’t something he wanted to watch. His self-control was already being tested.  

Sam scoffed. “You know what I mean, man.” He on the other hand, was watching Y/N like a hawk. Bucky wasn’t the only one that felt a responsibility to watch over Y/N. If Bucky didn’t swing in and save her from unwanted suitors, Sam would happily do it.  

“I’m not going to get in her way.” Bucky mumbled and shook his head.

“Maybe you should. She doesn’t seem to be feeling it.” Sam basically narrated as his eyes stayed locked on her.

Bucky’s gaze snapped up. Y/N was stuck in a conversation with a reputable SHIELD agent. Bucky recognized him as Caleb Stratford. He was a nice guy, good-looking, and a decent agent. What bothered Bucky was how uncomfortable Y/N appeared to be. Her shoulders were slightly raised and her hands were fidgeting in front of her. She was smiling and nodding along, but Bucky could recognize the phoniness behind it.

“If you aren’t going to do anything, I will. She looks like cornered prey, Bucky.” Sam wasn’t being playful anymore and his warning was genuine.

Bucky didn’t bother responding verbally. He shot up from his seat and slammed his beer on the bar. Most people moved out of his way as he crossed the room. No matter how much good he did, people still shifted in concealed fear. They weren’t used to seeing him at these gatherings either.

Y/N didn’t notice Bucky’s approach until he cleared his throat beside Caleb. Her body instantly relaxed at the sight of him.

Caleb turned slightly to acknowledge him. “Sergeant Barnes.” He greeted coolly.

“Agent Stratford.” Bucky answered. “I think Coulson is looking for you.”

True or not, Caleb wasn’t going to let Y/N out of his grasp. He eyed Bucky suspiciously and didn’t appreciate the challenge. “Word on street is that you have no problem finding yourself girls to take home. Didn’t realize you started fighting other men for them, Barnes.” His attempt at being Y/N’s knight in shining armor went amiss.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to Bucky at the comment. It was not what she was expecting to hear.

“Careful… he’s the godfather of my son.” Y/N raised an eyebrow with her caution.

Caleb broke his stare down with Bucky to look at her. “You two know each other?”

“Yes.” Bucky and Y/N accidentally answered in unison.

Caleb took this a small defeat, but he wasn’t completely giving up. “I hope to see you around, Y/N.” He gave a final scowl to Bucky before walking away.

Y/N let out a breath now that the tension was gone.

“I didn’t realize I was Jimmy’s godfather.” Bucky said with a sly smirk.

“Well… that’s because I’m not religious and I think he would’ve assumed we were somehow related if I said uncle.” Y/N giggled. “I should’ve brought up Jimmy sooner. Nothing makes men runner faster than a single mom.”

“Well they’re idiots then.” Bucky stated. His earnestness made Y/N’s smile falter slightly.

She watched him for a moment. “Nat didn’t tell you I was coming, did she?”

“No… it must have slipped her mind.” He sighed.

Then Y/N took in his attire. She hadn’t noticed it until now. “Did she also make you one of her dolls?”

Bucky laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“No. I was actually going to say you look ruggedly handsome. But that’s nothing new… I just somehow knew the outfit wasn’t your doing.”

Bucky blushed at compliment and Y/N smiled at being responsible for it.

“Do you want a drink? Sam’s over at the bar and he wanted to say hi.”

Y/N nodded and lead the way. Bucky was right behind her. She took note of people staring at her. Apparently it was weird to see the Winter Soldier accompanied by a woman.

However, Bucky only noticed the men checking her out.

“You know…I’m beginning to understand why Steve never brought you to these things.” His voice was low and hostile.

But Y/N just looked at him with a blank expression, completely oblivious to what he was referring to.

Bucky shook his head at her innocence and ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “Y/N, you look beautiful.” His voice was sincere and sweet. Then he caught a man staring at her ass. He glared at him, over Y/N’s shoulder. “And I have a feeling if I leave you alone for a second, you’re going to have to deal with more than just Caleb.”

“Then I guess you can’t let me out of your sight.” Y/N suggested with a playful gape.

Thank god the bartender interrupted them, because Y/N’s charm completely caught Bucky off guard.

This was new for them: flirting, teasing banter. Bucky hadn’t expected it. Instead his pessimism was convinced she would either avoid him the whole night or make her rejection quite clear.

“My flower fairy!” Sam came out of nowhere. “Oh, I’ve missed you!”

“Shh, Sam.” Y/N hushed. “People are staring.”

Bucky smiled at her blushing.

Sam ignored her warning and hugged her tightly. “Hey, hey, hey!” He addressed the entire party. “This is my flower fairy… she’s off limits. Hear me?” He continued embarrassing her by yelling out. The people in their vicinity actually quieted down from Sam’s announcement.

Bucky had to respect the man’s tactics.

But Y/N groaned at the unwanted attention. “You just took cock blocking to a new level, Sam. Sometimes I regret naming my son after you.”

“The only thing you regret, is doing it in his middle name instead of his first name.” Sam argued with a wink.

Then some veteran friends of his pulled Sam away.

Y/N finally was able to grab her drink. She looked at Bucky and did a cheers with his beer. After taking a sip, she studied Bucky.

“You know… I’m surprised you’re even here right now. I thought you hated these things.”

“I lost a bet with Nat. Otherwise I would be hiding in my bedroom or the gym.”

Y/N smirked at his honesty. “Well, I would’ve found you eventually.”

There it was again, the flirting.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you find me when you got here?” Wanda practically squealed in her ear and wrapped her in a hug.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being dragged away by the girl. She looked over her shoulder and gave Bucky a look that informed him they weren’t done talking.

---

The party went on and Bucky managed to continue surviving. The party was getting crazier. People had been drinking for hours now; the music was louder, the room was hotter.

“Do you know where Y/N is? I wanted her to dance with me.” Nat whined.

Bucky shrugged. “I assumed she was with you.”

“I haven’t seen her in awhile.” Nat replied before returning to the dance floor.

Bucky looked around and he couldn’t find Y/N anywhere either. Then he realized where she was probably hiding. Looking around, he made sure no one saw him leaving. He didn’t want anyone following him, but he also didn’t want to get dragged to the dance floor with Nat.

The average guest wouldn’t know how to get on the rooftop. The hallways were confusing and there were too many turns. No one would end up there accidentally.

So he wasn’t surprised to find Y/N staring out into the surrounding forest. Every so often she would look below at the drunken guests escaping to various chauffeurs.

“Hiding from Nat?” Bucky asked from behind her.

Y/N whipped around. “Jesus, Buck! You scared me.”

Bucky mumbled an apology.

“I was having a good time.” She admitted. “Then I just had to start remembering things. Nostalgia is such a bitch, you know.” Y/N sighed, looking back into the night. “I haven’t been back here since…since-“

“I know.” Bucky acknowledged softly.

Y/N shivered as the night breeze passed.

Bucky quickly shrugged off his leather jacket and wrapped it over her shoulders.

Those chivalrous gestures still surprised her, and he could read it as her eyes flickered up to his. She muttered her thanks and shifted the jacket so she could put her arms in the sleeves. The way it hung off her frame reminded him of how small she really was.

Bucky watched as Y/N sighed and burrowed further into his jacket. It was like taking a blanket out of the dryer. He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to it smelling like her once he got it back.

Silence settled between them.

Y/N seemed to be trying to work herself up to ask something. Bucky could tell she was having quite the internal discussion. Finally she took a deep breath and faced him daringly.

“I…I just have to know.” She began quietly. “If Steve were still alive, would you have ever told me?”

Bucky swallowed and found that his throat was dry. They’d been dodging the issues concerning the two of them all night. It was finally time to acknowledge the lingering questions.

He looked at the ground as if it would give him the right answer. After a moment he shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t have been fair…to you or Steve.”

“You told me everything…and-and then you just left, Bucky.” Y/N reproached. “And you never came back.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. I just needed you to know. I didn’t want to force a resolution from you.”

“And you’re scared.” She couldn’t help but point out.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at her calling out his vulnerability. “That too.” He confessed.

Then she was taking a step closer to him. Bucky didn’t move; just let her take control of the situation. He was just her prey. She reached up and stroked his cheek, rubbing his scruff back and forth with her right thumb. But her eyes were eyeing his dark pink lips. The distance between their faces was getting smaller and smaller.

Bucky couldn’t stand still any longer. He had to grab something. His right hand gripped her waist and tugged slightly, encouraging her to move closer.

Their lips were nearly touching.

“Y/N! I know you’re hiding up here!” Nat yelled out drunkenly. Wanda, Sam, and few other friends accompanied her.

Y/N let out a sigh.

Bucky leaned his forehead against hers.

They both knew the moment was over now.

The two of them pulled apart just as the group reached the top of the stairs and joined them on the rooftop.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Wanda giggled. Clearly Bucky and Y/N were the most sober of everyone.

Once again, Y/N was being pulled away from Bucky. But as she was almost to the stairs, she realized she was still wearing his leather jacket.

“Oh!” She started moving to take it off.

“Keep it. I’ll grab it later.” Bucky stopped her. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

---

Bucky was restless as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling. His right forearm was draped across his forehead as he felt a headache coming on. It was like his whole body knew that Y/N was still in his vicinity.

He had offered to fly her back home on one of the jets. It was mostly an excuse to have her to himself. But she said Nat had invited her to spend the night in one of the guest rooms. She’d brought an overnight bag and everything.

Bucky was at a loss of where to go from here. Was Y/N actually interested in him? Or was he just the remnants of Steve that she couldn’t let go?

They were so close to kissing. Why couldn’t he have just ignored the rest of them and crashed his lips against hers? ‘Because you’re a coward,’ he told himself.

But Bucky’s internal monologue came to a halt when he heard someone knocking on his bedroom door. He quickly sat up in bed and glanced at the clock: it was almost 3 in the morning.

With his hand gripping the handle, he paused a moment before opening the door.

Y/N was standing on the other side. The glamorous makeup was gone, her hair was undone, she was wearing a ratty t-shirt that had the logo of a band on it, and cotton shorts. This was the Y/N Bucky had fallen in love with.

Bucky didn’t ask her what she was doing. He had the feeling that Y/N’s empath abilities were slipping from her grasp again.

Next thing he knew, Y/N flung herself at him. Her lips were on his and her hands had somehow already wrapped around his neck. One of them was lacing itself within his dark hair and Bucky let out a groan of pleasure.  

Bucky managed to slam his bedroom door shut without breaking the kiss. Then his arms were gripping the back of her thighs and he lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. Y/N gasped at the movement, but her legs wrapped around his waist on instinct alone.

Bucky carried her to the bed. He couldn’t stop kissing her. Whether it was Y/N or her abilities, her lips felt electric. Her body was telling him what she wanted through her powers, without her consent. The paranormal communication was intoxicating to him.

But then reality still managed to slip its way into his conscious.

Y/N was being pressed into the mattress from their kissing. Bucky suddenly pulled away and stood up, just at the edge of the bed. Y/N sat up, sensing his distress and trying to read his emotions even further.

Bucky laughed uneasily and ran a hand over his scruff. “I-I feel like we’re doing this in the wrong order.” He admitted roughly.

Y/N cocked an eyebrow, not understanding what he meant.

“I just want to do this right… wanted to take you out.”

Then she was smiling, finally comprehending what Bucky was so stressed about. He felt like he was treating her like the rest of the women that warmed his bed. She knew that wasn’t the case, and she knew because she felt it.

Y/N slowly made her way off the bed so she was standing and facing Bucky. Her eyes narrowed with seduction. Then her lips were on his neck, then behind his ear, then just at the corner of his lips. Bucky knew she was trying to destroy him and it was working.

When enough damage was done, Y/N pulled back to look at him again. “I figure you’ve waited long enough… don’t you think, James?”

The use of his first name made his heart beat faster.

Without waiting for him to respond, she grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Of course she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Then she slid her shorts and underwear down her legs in one movement.

Y/N stepped forward to capture his lips again.

But Bucky stopped her gently and made her take a step back.

His eyes consumed every inch her body, taking in every detail. He shook his head at the absurdity of it all, as if he were not worthy enough to be with her right now…like this.

Y/N shrunk slightly at the scrutiny and shifted her weight in discomfort. Bucky took it as his cue, seizing her hips gently and pulling her back to him.

“Don’t be shy.” Bucky murmured in her ear and then pressed a kiss to her jaw. “You’re beautiful.” It was an understatement. He had nightmares and dreams about being with Y/N like this. None of them would compare to the reality.

Her body pulsed a surge of passion. She was completely unable to control it now. Then her hands were grabbing at the edge of Bucky’s tank top and she pulled it off his body gracefully.

Y/N had never been this close to his bare chest. She was suddenly reminded of the time she found him in the kitchen, how he cowered from her view in embarrassment. Bucky watched her observing the scars where metal met flesh.

With the every other girl, he never got self-conscious about it. They were just one-night stands. Most of them slept with him because of who they thought he was. It was never intimate enough for him to care what they thought of his scars.

Y/N then realized that Bucky had avoided touching her with his metal arm this whole time. She reached forward and gently pulled it toward her naked body, forcing it to wrap around her waist. The cool metal calmed her nerves. Then she leaned forward and scattered kissed along the scarring on his chest.  

She could tell that Bucky was still self-conscious. So she sent a calming flow toward him with her powers.

Bucky let out a shaky breath in relief.

But he couldn’t help himself anymore. He enveloped her in another kiss and pressed her body back onto the bed, hovering over her bare figure.

---

Bucky gradually woke up. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his body. He metal arm was wrapped around a warm and naked body. For a moment, his brain told him it was another one of his flings. But he could never sleep after those affairs and he had definitely never cuddled with any of them like this.

The night then came rushing back. His eyes flickered up to find Y/N’s back pressed tightly to his bare chest. Bucky was beaming at the memory of last night’s events. He pressed a kiss to the back of Y/N’s shoulder. She let out a content sigh. But that wasn’t enough for her sleeping body, for it turned in his arms and then she nuzzled her face into his chest.

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the cuteness of it. He pressed another kiss to her forehead. It seemed to finally rouse her from the slumber.

Her eyes squinted up at him. Then she closed them again, refusing to properly wake up. She kissed his collarbone and nestled back into his chest.

“Morning…” Her voice was muffled, but he could still hear the smile.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky greeted tenderly.

“I don’t want to get up.” Y/N whined. “Don’t make me do it.”

He chuckled. “No one’s making you get up… I promise.” But he sat up against the headboard and shifted her body so she was sleeping on his chest.

“You’re so warm.” Y/N sighed sleepily.

Bucky couldn’t help himself as he kissed the top of her head. His arms still enveloped her torso, his right hand rubbing light circles on her back.

“How about I go sneak some coffee out of the kitchen for us?” Bucky whispered in her ear. He felt her body perk up at the mention of ‘coffee’ and laughed at her response. “That’s what I thought.”

Y/N managed to let go of his body heat with the promise of coffee.

When Bucky returned, the bed was empty. Y/N came out of the bathroom with her hair fixed and her clothes back on.

Bucky’s brow creased. “I’ll be honest, I preferred you with your clothes off.”

Despite all of their activities last night, Y/N blushed. “Well, I got cold without your ridiculous body heat. So you only have yourself to blame.” She walked over to and kissed him adoringly on the lips before taking her coffee out of his grasp.

Y/N sat on the bed, sipped her coffee, and glanced around Bucky’s bedroom. She had never been in here before. And last night she had been a little too preoccupied to notice any details.

Her eyes lit up when she noticed various drawings and picture colorings that Jimmy continued to gift to Bucky with every visit. Then she spotted photos of him and Steve. A couple of them were from the 40s; others were modern and clearly taken on a digital camera or phone. But then something caught Y/N’s attention on the bookcase.

Bucky had been watching her and followed her gaze, wondering what she was looking at. Y/N stood up and placed her coffee on the nightstand before walking over.

She’d recognize Steve’s sketchbook anywhere.

There was dust gathered on it. Clearly it hadn’t been opened in quite some time.

A pit formed in Bucky’s stomach as he watched her, nervously. Was this about to finish everything?

Y/N had never looked inside. Steve had always been shy about his artwork and she respected that privacy. She never asked, only seeing the stuff he offered to her. But now it was all in front of her, at her fingertips.

Y/N flipped it open and her eyes were instantly met with countless drawings of herself. Her breathing became heavier as she absorbed the naked sketches. She had no idea he’d done any of them.

Quickly turning around, she eyed Bucky. “Have you looked at these?” Her voice was nervous and slightly embarrassed.

He nodded carefully. “Once.”

Y/N’s hand shook as she put the sketchbook back in its place. It was left for Bucky, not her. Clearly he wasn’t looking at it everyday. The dust made that clear.

“I told you, you were beautiful.” Bucky simplified.

Before she could further express her vulnerability, someone knocked at the door.

Y/N panicked. As soon as one person saw them together, everyone would know before the end of the day. It was too soon for that.

Bucky saw her distress and crossed the room. He caressed her cheek and kissed her. “It’s fine.” He assured her softly.

From where she was standing, the visitor wouldn’t see her unless Bucky completely opened the door.

Y/N instantly recognized the voice of Agent Hill. She listened as Hill explained that Bucky and some of the other Avengers were needed. There was an attack in Chicago. They were flying out in a few hours.

Y/N glanced at the sketchbook again.

Her eyes began to water when she started putting it together.

Bucky finally finished his talk and closed the door. He stopped his movements when he caught the tears forming in Y/N’s eyes.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

But she shook her head, refusing to explain. “I-I should go.”

Bucky rushed to her, but she maneuvered out of his hold. “Y/n, wait. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m fine. I’ll ask Nat to fly me back. If she can’t, I’ll just get one of the driver’s to drop me off at the airport and I’ll buy a ticket home.”

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky finally snapped. He gripped her shoulders and forced her to face him. “What the hell just happened?” He was horrified to find her shaking.

“It’s going to happen again. It already is!” Y/N whimpered. “I can’t do it again.” She kept emphasizing ‘again’.

Bucky sighed, putting it together.

“You’re already leaving for a mission.” Y/N explained. “I just got you and now all I can think about is losing you.”

Bucky’s heart broke. “Y/N…wait here, okay? Please…just-just wait here. I’ll be right back.” Y/N said nothing. “Can you do that?”

She finally shrugged and nodded.

10 minutes later, Bucky came back with Y/N’s overnight bag hanging off his shoulder.

Y/N became confused. “What are you doing?”

“Come on. I’m taking you home.” Bucky responded casually.

“I-I thought you had to-”

Bucky grabbed her hand. “I told them I’m not going.”

With that, he started dragging her to the hangar.

---

Part 11

Once again, I always love hearing from people. Write me a book report, write me a novel. GIMME!!!

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Where You’ve Been Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Feedback (Cant keep writing without it )

WARNING: THIS IS A HUGE TRIGGER WARNING CHAPTER. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF DEATH, MENTIONS OF DEATH, OR ANY OTHER TRAUMATIZING THINGS TRIGGER YOU!!!  

               You had no idea what to do, the last, itty bitty, strand of dignity was gone. You had lost everything now, the last little bit of hope you were clinging to…had been cheating on you with that woman from the bar. You were all alone. You had no one to turn to now. Ryan was going to continue to use you…torture you…abuse you…unless you stopped it all.

               Sam was the love of your life, and granted you wanted to hate him right now, there was a small part of you that couldn’t. Sam was that little light you had left in this dark work and you were watching that light dim darker and darker until…now…the light was just…gone.

               “Just what a stupid whore like you deserves. You ruined Sam’s life, he never loved you. You were just a young, easy piece of ass with daddy issues.” The voice beside you startled you, causing you to jerk the wheel. You looked to see Ryan sitting there beside you. “Oh, for fucks sake relax, I’m just in that pretty little head of yours. You know what I love most about your head…. watching that beautiful Y/H/C bob up and down on my hard cock.” His voice and laughter echoed in the car as you sobbed. “SHUT UP!” you screamed as tears spilled down your cheeks. “Which also means that since I’m in your head…I know everything. I know how pathetic you are. You’re not good enough for anyone. You’re trash, you are a worthless piece of shit who deserves everything she gets!!” his voice yelled out. “NO! I’m a good person!” you sobbed. “You know where you have to go Y/N” he smiled wickedly.  You grabbed your phone ignoring the call from Sam and called Castiel.

               “Oh, what’s the little angel boy going to do? Tell you to pull over? Stop? You’re to afraid to do it. It’s your only option Y/N. You’ve got no one left.” Ryan laughed. “Shut up!” You cried out.

               “Y/N?” What’s going on?! Are you okay?” Cas said quickly. “I can’t do this anymore Cas! I’m so tired…Tell Sam…Tell him I still love him even after what he did.” You said throwing your phone onto the floor board. “wow you still love him? Even after he pictured Jess every time you two use to fuck?” Ryan laughed. “JUST GO AWAY!” you sobbed.

               Cas put his phone on mute and began tracking your phone as he called Sam’s phone on his office phone. He told him where you were headed and to meet him there. He switched the tracking to his cell phone, a trick his brother Jimmy had taught him.

               You parked your car and turned it off before you opened the glove box and took out the gun and climbed out of the car. “Oh goody, you think you can just end it so quickly huh? Bitch, you’re to much of a coward to end your own life.” His voice echoed again. Your whole body shook as you walked toward the edge of the cliff.

               “Y/N!” Cas yelled causing you to turn around quickly holding up the gun. “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You screamed. “Y/N! Put the gun down and walk toward me!” Cas said as he stood next to the front of his car. His head lights lit up the cliff as you backed your way to the edge. “I can’t do this anymore Cas…I’m so tired and he…. he doesn’t care about what happens to me.” You whispered closing your eyes as you held the gun to your temple.

               “Y/N NO!” Sam’s voice boomed. You opened your eyes to see him running toward you. “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” you screamed pressing the gun harder as tears fell from your eyes. “SAM NO!” Cas yelled as Sam stopped. You were sobbing again, seeing him with hickies on his neck just made everything feel more real. “Baby put the gun down…please” Sam said softly holding his hands up. “Awe, now he’s going to be that loving caring Sam you fell in love with…HA! He’s all show. You know he hates you.” Ryan’s voice came off from your right side. “SHUT UP! I HATE YOU!” you screamed looking toward the hallucination taking a step back.

               Sam looked to his left and saw nothing but darkness. “Sweetheart…who are you talking to?” he asked keeping his hands where you could see them. You looked at him, a broken look was buried beneath the tears and snot on your face as your hand shook holding the gun. “come on Y/N…give me the gun.” He said in a calm tone as he walked closer to you slowly.

               “Screw you. You hate me, you don’t care what happens to me. Just as long as you can keep screwing that bartender! You want me gone, you said it yourself. Maybe I did deserve to be beaten. I deserve everything that is happening to me!” you yelled out looking from Sam to Cas.

               Sam took the opportunity when you looked at Cas to move even closer to you. As you looked between them again, your gaze shifting to Cas; Sam lunged for you. “SAM NO!” Cas yelled moving forward.

               You jerked yourself backwards away from him, stepping on a loose rock, you slipped and fell backwards off the cliff. “NO! Y/N!!” Sam yelled as he fell on the rocks.

               Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the air brushed past you, causing you to hold your breath. “You wanted it to end…. now it will, though not the way I expected.” A voice in your head said. It was soft and warm, nothing compared to what you felt when your back smacked against the icy cold water. Sam got up quickly and tried to find a way down to the river to save you while Cas called 9-1-1.

               As the water engulfed around you, the river rushing in the cold winter night, the gun sank to the rocky bottom. The current swept you under, letting the water begin to freeze to your skin, as it pulled you down into the darkness.

Forever Tags: 

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Tag List: 

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[wistreeria]

inspired by this post

"where do you feel emotion?"

castiel looks up from his spot on sam’s bed, a book clutched in his hands. his brows furrows. "i am unfamiliar with this concept," the angel admits. "i didn’t realize it was possible to turn abstract ideas into tangible ones." sam gives him a small smile, then comes to sit next to him. castiel has already forgotten about his book, and he lowers it down into his lap.

"i feel frustration here," sam says, and he lifts a hand to skim his fingers along the underside of his jaw, barely brushing his throat, "anger," long fingers brush the tips of his ears, "and i carry sadness in my shoulders." his voice is soft and slow, almost like he’s afraid of what would happen if he raises it, whatever spell drawing the two of them together like a moth to flame would be broken, and castiel would be left alone again. "what about you?"

castiel is still unsure if he understands, but he decides that he can at least try, if only to sate the beautifully curious expression on the younger winchester’s face. if only to keep it there instead of the heartbroken one he gets after episodes of hellfire. his brows furrow deeper in concentration, and he looks down at his hands. emotions are so simple in theory, but in practice to complex. where does he FEEL emotions? what part of his borrowed body radiates with energy when he FEELS? "anger," castiel says slowly, and sam nods.

"what else?"

"sadness," the angel continues, pressing a hand against his throat. when uriel died, it was the first time he felt it, though he hadn’t had the capacity to understand what it was. a tickling sensation blooming up and down the inside of jimmy novak’s neck, and he’d swallowed a few times to try to push it away, but it hadn’t worked then. it hadn’t worked when anna was killed, either. the tickling was so strong after sam had jumped into the pit that castiel thought there might have been something wrong with him. the celestial being places his fingers against his temples. "frustration."

sam’s lips quirk up into a secret grin. castiel wishes he knew what those secrets are. they continue on, and castiel learns that sam feels sympathy in his ribs, that it itches and tanges around the imprints the angel made in the bone so long ago until he can’t stand it, that he holds hope in the palms of his hands.

"it suits you," cas muses, "a man of quiet faith." sam ducks his head a little, long hair hanging in front of his eyes. the angel leans forward a little bit, enthralled by their game. "what else?" he asks, and sam turns back to him.

"fear," sam says then, and digs his fingers into his chest like he’s reaching for his own heart. "my lungs," he continues, and the angel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "sometimes it feels like water, you know? filling them up, like i can drown in it."

"i will never let you drown," castiel says seriously, and sam holds a wide-eyed gaze long enough that the angel thinks sam knows he meant it. in a burst of confidence, castiel reaches out and wraps sam’s hands in both of his, a feat he would never have allowed himself just a few weeks ago, fear sitting heavy behind his eyes reminding him how fragile sam winchester is, reminding him how much he’s broken sam winchester before with just the gentlest of touches.

sam breathes out, and castiel wonders if he’s afraid. "oh," he sighs, and the angel pulls the hand toward himself. sam doesn’t fight him.

"guilt," he murmurs, and places sam’s hand gently against his stomach, holding the hunter’s gaze. he remembers the pit that formed there after the return of those souls to purgatory, when he realized just what he’d done to dean, to balthazar, to heaven, to sam. "pride." castiel slides their hands up towards his ribs, and the angel presses sam’s fingers down harder, remembering the careful crawl of pride splintering his vessel’s ribs after the consumption of his corruption, settling comfortably until their return. "compassion," the angel continues, moving sam’s hand up his body to rest against his shoulders, lets him feel the tightness there, the ache to do good, to help unravel all the bad he’s done and more, replace all the negativity in the universe with kindness. castiel lifts the hands off his body completely then places sam’s fingers against his lips. sam’s pupils dilate, and something inside of castiel’s own body begins to react to the touch, exploding at the base of his spine and sending small fireworks up slowly through his vertebrae. the energy between them crackles. "longing," he his voice is nothing but a deep grumble.

"i think you’re catching on,” sam says in that same breathless tone, and it makes castiel’s lips tingle in a way they never have before. castiel’s eyes are trained on sam’s own, and he doesn’t understand why he can’t look away.

"what about love? sam… where do you feel that?" he doesn’t know what makes him say it, but he also doesn’t know why sam’s breath hitches, why he leans forward a little more.

"i don’t think there’s room left in me anymore," sam whispers, and castiel’s lungs expand with grief at the words, at the man with more love inside of him than he’s ever seen in the millennia since his creation, the man who saved the world with his love for his brother, with his love for the well-being of the rest of the world.

"you’re wrong," castiel says, eyes narrowing, and he lowers their hands down to his lap. sam pulls them towards himself and lays them against his ribs, pressing each finger into the spaces between them, lets the older being feel the indent of each bone beneath his skin.

"love," sam murmurs, and even though angels have perfect hearing he still leans forward. "it’s like the sun. trying to live inside you even though it would never fit, instead just filling you up where you’re empty." he pauses, looks down at castiel’s hands where they touch him. "maybe you’re right, cas. maybe i’m wrong. maybe it’s not that there’s no room for it… maybe it’s because i’m just empty."

[pinknerdpanda]

Wing Man

Characters: Cas x Reader, Dean, Sam

Warnings: Cheesy Pick-up Lines, Fluff, Cas

Word Count: 3,388

A/N: I wrote this for two different challenges that I just felt like went way too well together. The first is @impalaimagining’s Cheesy Pickup Line 4K Follower Celebration. The other is for @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps 1.5K Golden Girls Challenge. I love the themes of both of these challenges and I truly hope that you both enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Congrats to you both on your amazing milestones! The prompts are bolded below.

A/N 2: Beta’d by two of my loves - @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie. Where would I be without you two? Thank you both - I love you!

Tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added to my tags list, just send me an ASK. And as always - Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

(Italics are internal thoughts - kind of. The gif is not mine.)

Wing Man

“OK, what about her?” Dean motions to a petite blonde bombshell, with, what appears to be, an expensively large rack.

Castiel turns in the direction Dean is pointing and frowns, shaking his head.

“No, thank you.” Cas returns his gaze to his drink before lifting the bottle to his lips.

“What do you mean, ‘No, thank you’?” Dean gapes at the angel, his eyebrows creased in disgust. “That girl is a knockout!”

“I mean, no thank you. I feel no sort of physical attraction to that woman, and I use that term loosely.” Castiel sighs, lifting one eyebrow before meeting Dean's eyes. “She appears to be more artificial enhancement than actual human being. And her brainwaves seem to be lacking a certain complexity necessary to carry out a stimulating conversation.”

You choke on your beer, sending the bubbling, cool liquid straight into your nasal passage and out your nose. Sputtering and grabbing for napkins to get yourself cleaned up, you hear Sam snort; an honest to God snort. You look up, giggling at the look of merriment on your tall friend’s face. Dean’s jaw is hanging slightly agape, and you can’t tell if the look on his face is one of shock or irritation, but you don’t care. The whole scene is priceless.

You sneak a glance at Cas, who is watching the events play out in front of him as one might watch a tennis match, his head tilted to one side.

“What?” His gruff voice is full of innocence, making you and Sam giggle harder.

Dean glares at the two of you before returning his attention back to Cas. He licks his lips and purses them, sucking in a quick breath through his nose before continuing.

“Nothing buddy.” 

“Dean, leave him alone. Maybe hooking up with some chick from the bar isn’t Cas’ idea of celebrating.” Sam hazards a quick sideways look in your direction, and your cheeks flame. Shut up, Sam. Just. Shut. Up.

“I feel like it is my duty...no...my privilege to show him the ropes; teach him some of my tricks.” Dean claps Cas on the shoulder before surveying the crowded room again.  “What about that girl over there? Green shirt, brown hair?”

You follow where he is pointing and the laughter in your lungs comes to a rolling stop as you find the target in question. She is beautiful. Maybe not in a traditional barfly kind of way, but you don’t even have to look at Cas to know he sees it too. Disappointment rains on your previously pleasant demeanor and you struggle to keep your face neutral.

“Oh.” Cas stares at the woman and says nothing else.

You grab your beer and chug the remaining contents, slamming it down and rising to grab another from the bar. Dean smacks a palm on the wooden table and points at Cas, winking at him and clicking his tongue.

“There he is! Alright, what you gotta do when you get there…” Dean’s voice fades away as you approach the bar.

You signal the bartender for another drink, before perching on a barstool. The bartender sets down a fresh bottle, smiling politely.

“Can I get a shot of...something? I don’t care what.”

He nods, turning to grab a bottle. He neatly fills a small shot glass with a clear liquid before sliding it in your direction. You thank him, tipping the drink back with a flick of your wrist, downing the bitterness with one gulp and grimacing. Whatever he gave you burns all the way down your throat and you slam the glass down, grabbing your beer to chase the taste away.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh with some considerable amount of force catches your attention. You whirl around, your senses heightened and your body on alert. Instead of some unimaginable horror, you find Cas, walking toward the table where you’d left him and the boys, rubbing his cheek and frowning. You glance in the direction Cas is walking from to see the woman in the green shirt stand, obviously flustered and rushing to leave. Shit.

You flag down the bartender again and knock back another of the mystery shots before heading back to the group.

“What the hell man? That is not what I said to do!”

“What? What did I miss?” You look rapidly between the three men. Dean’s face is contorted in a look of contempt, his eyes wide. Sam’s large hand is clamped tightly over what you can only assume is a deeply dimpled grin and Cas’s brow is furrowed, a red streak taking shape on the left side of his face.

“Tell her.” Dean crosses his arms over his chest and quirks an eyebrow. “Tell her what you just told us.”  You look at Cas expectantly.

“I told her that she was clearly suffering from various nutrient deficiencies. From her pale skin and swollen hands, she was likely in need of Iron and B12 supplements. I also explained that her current state of constipation could be due to a lack of potassium in her diet and suggested she eat bananas.”

“And was that what I’d told you to say?” Dean’s tone has taken on a very maternal quality. Cas shakes his head ‘no.’ “No. It isn’t even close. What did I tell you to say?”

“But Dean…” Cas begins. Dean cuts him off.

“Ba ba ba...no way. Uh uh.” Dean waves his hands in the air as though he can physically keep whatever excuse Cas is about to use inside of his angel brain. “Repeat back to me what I said. Word for word.”

“‘Have you been to the doctor lately? Because I think you’re missing some vitamin ME.’”

Thankfully, you are too mesmerized by the absurdity of what is happening to have taken a drink, or it would have likely ended up much the same as the last. Shooting beer through your nose twice in one evening is not a record you intend to set tonight.

“Right. Not. Even. Close.” Dean’s finger stabs the table, emphasizing every word.

“Dean. Don’t even tell me that line has worked for you before?” You look at him questioningly. The judgemental look on Dean’s face is replaced by a cheeky, self assured smile and a wink.

“Sure has, sweetheart. A few times.” He finger-gun shoots you, clicking his tongue again and taking a pull from his beer.

You groan, rolling your eyes. Leave it to Dean Winchester to be the one man, in the entirety of human existence, that can successfully use one of the worst pick-up lines you’ve ever heard to get a girl into bed.

Cas looks dejected. A tiny little voice inside your head is squealing with delight. He may be an awkward, dorky little guy in a trenchcoat, but he was your awkward, little dorky guy in a trenchcoat.

Well, he isn’t yours, persay. But you want him to be. You really aren’t sure if he sees you that way; or any woman really. Sure, he’d seemed a little too interested in the porno that he’d watched that one time, but part of you wondered if that was actually Cas or his vessel, Jimmy, that was...uh...stimulated by it.

One time, when you and the Winchesters had been on a hunt, Dean had gone home with some little waifish thing. You’d been drunk and spilling your guts to Sam at the hotel room and you may or may not have admitted your feelings for the blue-eyed angel. True to his word, your friend had not said a word about it since then, but he had given you looks.

Oh the looks that man can deliver! They can speak volumes without a single word ever having been uttered. You assume it has to do with his highly expressive eyebrows…

“Hey there.”

A sickly sweet southern drawl snaps you back to reality and you look up, frowning at the raven haired beauty with the doe eyes that has just approached your table. She, of course misses it, as she only seems to have eyes for Castiel.

“Hello.” Cas’ voice is normally low and gravelly, but in this setting, it sounds way more seductive than you care to hear.

“I need another beer.” You declare. Sam frowns at you.

“You still have like half of that one left.” What he really means is Just stop being a pussy and tell him how you feel. You can make this stop, you just have to talk to him. You know this because the words are practically etched into his hazel eyes.

“Well I am going to finish this one on my way up to the bar.” You glower at him, trying to return the silent eye conversation as best you can. However, instead of saying I swear to Chuck if you say anything I will put Nair in your fancy-ass conditioner, Samuel; you are fairly certain you just look constipated.

You rise, chugging your beer and making another trip to see the bartender. You should probably learn his name if you are going to be visiting him so frequently. Another girl, another shot. This is not going to be a night that ends well.

You return to the table to see Doe Eyes has a long thin arm draped across Castiel’s shoulder, her cleavage practically smacking him in the face.  Maybe she thinks he needs a matching mark on his other cheek. You slump in your chair miserably as the effect of the mystery shots begins to work it’s way through your body.

“I have been trying to show my devastatingly handsome friend here a few tricks about flirting.” Dean smiles broadly at Doe Eyes, whose already impossibly large eyes widen impossibly wider.

“Really?! Oh honey, I’m from the South. Flirting is part of my heritage.” She winks at Cas, who looks like a zebra at a watering hole whose just sensed that there is a lioness waiting for him in the reeds.

He swallows thickly before asking, “What does that mean?”

“Her mother was a slut, too.” The words escape your mouth before you can stop them from tumbling out.

Your first instinct is to mentally pat yourself on the back - you are never that quick with a comeback. But as four sets of eyes slowly turn to face you, your celebration is cut short and replaced quickly with that ‘fight or flight’ feeling.

No one says anything for a long time. You aren’t sure if it is shock or what, but they aren’t moving so you don’t move. Finally, Doe Eyes narrows her gaze at you.

“Excuse me?” Her tone is low and threatening.

Fuck. Flight it is!

You don’t say a word as you scoot your chair back. It’s heavy wooden legs drag roughly across the cement floor, inevitably getting stuck in some grossness on the floor behind you. You wiggle side to side and shove back hard on the chair to try to unstick it. It unsticks, alright. It unsticks itself a little too well and launches you ass-over-tea-cup into the floor with a loud thud.

You scramble to your feet, unsuccessfully ignoring the stares of your fellow bar-patrons as you walk as fast as you can without running toward the exit.

The cool night air is a relief against your fevered skin. You stumble blindly through the parking lot in what you are hoping is the direction of your hotel. The smooth pavement turns abruptly into rocky gravel and the heel of one shoe catches on a stray rock. You lurch forward, eyes clenched shut and arms flailing in a half-assed drunken attempt to break your fall.

You cry out in shock as arms wrap around your waist from behind just before your face smashes into the pavement. Despite the fact that the owner of said arms just saved your life, (at the very least your face) instinct takes over and you begin twisting and thrashing in an effort to get away.

You jerk your right arm backwards and you hear a sickening crunch as your elbow makes contact with, what you assume is, some part of your assailant’s face. The grip on your waist is released and you whirl, hands raised, ready to fight.

However, instead of some Dudley Do-right psycho killer hybrid like you’d expected, you find Cas, a trickle of blood dripping from one nostril. His eyes are wide with surprise and his hands are up, palms out.

“Oh my god, Cas! I’m so sorry!” You rush over to him, digging in your purse for a tissue. Dabbing at the blood on his face, you look up to see him studying you carefully. You swallow hard. “Did I...uh...did I hurt you?” You roll your eyes internally, knowing full well that Angels, even in a weakened state much like Cas is now, don’t feel pain.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, y/n. And no, you did not hurt me.” The bright flood lights overhead reflect in his eyes as he gazes down at you. “You have been acting strange all night and when you left so suddenly, I began to worry.”

You straighten, taking a step backward as the events of the evening roll through your mind. Despite the heat blooming on your cheeks you lift your chin defiantly.

“I’m fine, Cas.”

Nonchalant. That is what you’d been going for. But of course that is not how it comes out. Instead you sound wounded and slightly bitter.

“You called that woman a slut.” Cas’s head tips to one side. “And her mother.”

You sigh, glancing around for a place to sit, Because the ground under your feet has begun to spin slightly. The low retaining wall just behind Cas is perfect, and you nod in it’s direction. He follows you silently and sits next to you, his knee brushing against yours. An electric tingle shoots through you, and you swallow hard, trying to get your brain to focus on anything but his touch.

“Your heart is beating quite fast, y/n. It seems to do that a lot. Have you considered seeing a doctor?”

Mortified, you fix your gaze on your feet. You can't think of a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve admitting the truth, so you just nod.

The silence grows, though it's not a terribly uncomfortable silence. The light din from the bar filters through the trees as the wind rustles their leaves.

“It was Dean's idea.” Cas breaks the silence. You look at him. His arms are stretched backwards, palms resting on the dirt, propping himself up. His legs are extended, ankles crossed, as he squints his eyes into the darkness. Something about his relaxed posture makes him look incredibly human.

“What are you talking about?”

He turns his attention to you, his eyes flitting about your face. You successfully suppress the urge to lean forward and smooth the wrinkles in his brow.

“Trying to solicit attention and sexual advances from women at the bar. Dean seemed to think it was what I wanted.”

There is something about the way he is looking at you that makes your stomach do cartwheels, and your heart feel like it is going to beat out of your chest. He presses his lips together, his gaze sliding down the curve of your neck before settling on your chest.

“Was it?” you swallow thickly and resist the urge to cross your arms over your body.

He shakes his head as one corner of his mouth nudges upward, his eyes still locked on your chest.

“It’s beating very fast now.” He sits up and leans toward you, placing his right hand over your heart. His smile widens, a look of genuine fascination dancing across his face. “Is this because of my proximity to you?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, but at the moment you are trying your hardest to remember to breathe at regular intervals. Apparently you respond favorably to the question, because Cas’ blue eyes shift up to yours. He runs his fingertips up the line of your throat and around the curve of your jaw before cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes gently across your bottom lip.

“I think that I would like to kiss you now.” He lowers his head and closes his eyes, his dark lashes fanning out across the tops of his cheeks.

You expect for his lips to feel dry and cracked, possibly a little warm. That is most definitely not the case. They are supple and cool, and they slot together perfectly with your own as he presses them on yours gently, a tentative meeting of flesh. When you press yourself against his chest, molding yourself to him, he accepts that as his cue and deepens the kiss. His fingers tug lightly at the hair at the base of your neck and his tongue explores yours.

Your lungs beg for oxygen and you pull back.

“What was that for?” you manage to croak out between heaving gasps for air.

“That’s because you are the only girl I want to solicit attention and sexual advances from.”

Scrunching your nose, you gawk at him. Was that a compliment? What is happening right now?

“Um. Thanks?”

Cas chuckles lightly, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he looks away.

“You are welcome.” he turns his attention back to you, his eyes shining with mirth. “So, did it hurt?”

“What?” You pull back, tilting your head to one side. “Did it hurt?” He repeats, carefully pronouncing each word.

“Did what hurt? The kiss? No, it was perfect…” Castiel interrupts you.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” The corners of his lips twitch as realization strikes you, a smile breaking out across your face. He drops his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers with your own.

“Are you trying to hit on me with one of Dean’s pickup lines, Cas?”

“I learned that one from watching a television program.” His smile dims slightly. “Although, I am not particularly fond of it.”

Your brows knit together in question as you rub small, soothing circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Why not Cas?”

“As one who has actually fallen from heaven, it is a wholly unpleasant experience. I still have not fully recovered.”

You nip the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. This man...this angel, he is so beautiful. His innocent, almost naive nature is so pure, it makes your heart swell with joy, despite the painful sincerity of his words. You place your hand on his cheek, urging his eyes to meet yours.

“Well, I think you are perfect exactly the way you are, Castiel.”

“And I you, y/n.” He stands, extending his hand to you and grinning like a fool. You accept and rise to your feet. The world starts spinning, so you pause until it stops before stretching up and kissing him.

Your body surges with desire as one hand grips the back of your neck and the other finds your hip before cautiously gliding over the curve of your ass. You moan just before he pulls away, still close enough that the tips of your noses are touching.

“Would you like to go back inside?” His breath is warm against your face.

“Actually, I was thinking we could go find the Impala.” Smiling, you bite your bottom lip.

Cas’s face screws up, confusion creasing his brow as his eyes shift side to side.

“But our friends are inside and Dean has the keys to his vehicle…”

Reaching for the hand woven through your hair, you place it on your chest over your heart. His expression is the perfect mixture of shock and understanding. As you gaze up at him through your dark lashes, you see the way his pupils blow wide with lust. A light sheen coats his brow as his grip on your ass tightens.

“Oh. Yes. I would like that very much.” His already low voice has dropped and the raw sound makes your core twitch.

“Come on, feathers. Dean said he wanted you to pick up a girl. He just didn’t say which one.” You wink at him, before grabbing his hand and dragging him in the direction of the car. “And he didn’t say where you should end up!”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love you guys - stay weird!): @wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen

Pond Tags (Cas): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @for-the-love-of-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofhazel @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @melbelle45

[mbtizone]

Marissa Cooper (The O.C.): ISFP

Dominant Introverted Feeling [Fi]: Marissa is an emotional typhoon. Her feelings are deep and intense. She needs to deal with her emotions on her own before she can open up about them. Usually, she just acts out instead of talking about what’s going on. When Julie asks her what’s bothering her, instead of opening up and having an honest discussion, Marissa begins to scream at the top of her lungs while throwing lawn furniture into the pool. The thought of talking to a counselor about her feelings is hell for her. Instead, she spends a lot of her time sorting through her feelings at the lifeguard tower. Marissa enjoys making one-on-one connections with people and likes to feel like she’s making a difference in someone’s life. However, because Marissa is so unhealthy and usually caught up in her own emotional turmoil, she isn’t great at picking up on other people’s true feelings. When she meets Oliver, she knows that he is troubled, but fails to see through his lies and doesn’t realize that he has become obsessed with her (even though Ryan, Luke, and Summer can all tell that he has a thing for her). Marissa is unable to see the truth and gets angry with Ryan when he tries to warn her, leading the two to break up. Later, she also fails to recognize the signs that Johnny is in love with her. When he gets hit by a car, she’s very attentive and constantly goes out of her way to help him. Due to her emotional instability, Marissa experiences high highs and low lows. She is extremely rebellious and enjoys getting a rise out of her mother, who she views as shallow and materialistic. Though Marissa is an emotionally turbulent person, she’s very caring and considerate. Even though she’s still in love with Ryan, she’s very kind and generous to Theresa when he starts seeing her again, even lending her a dress for a party. When Ryan’s older brother, Trey, is released from prison after attempting to steal a car, Marissa tries to help him reintegrate into society. At a party, Marissa watches as two guys lead an extremely intoxicated Heather (a girl who has been nothing but cruel to Marissa) outside. She immediately becomes concerned about their intentions, follows the group outside, and sees that two of the guys are standing outside of a van, with Heather nowhere in sight. Thinking quickly, Marissa claims she left her jacket in the van, but when the guys try to keep Marissa away, she charges past them and opens the door to find a third guy on top of the unconscious girl, her pants removed. Horrified by what she’s seeing, Marissa quickly rescues her before they have a chance to rape her (Fi-Se). When Marissa tries to write her college essay about a past trauma, she struggles to put her feelings into words and becomes deeply frustrated.

Auxiliary Extroverted Sensing [Se]: One of Marissa’s biggest issues is her tendency to make reckless, short-sighted decisions. She deals with her problems by acting. Marissa lives in the present and her reckless behavior can often get her into trouble. She parties and drinks excessively, shoplifts, jumps into relationships, overdoses in Mexico, and makes all sorts of poor, self-destructive decisions. Though she’s still in love with Ryan, Marissa engages in relationships with D.J. (“the yard guy”), which she knows will drive her mother insane, as well as a lesbian relationship with Alex. When she finds out about her mother’s affair with Luke, her first boyfriend and the guy she lost her virginity to, she acts out once again by running away to Chino When Ryan goes back to Chino to help Theresa with the baby, she internalizes her grief and resorts to heavy drinking (Fi-Se). Marissa is good at seeing opportunities and using them to her advantage. After she finds out about her mom and Luke, she uses this information as leverage, blackmailing her to get out of therapy and out of Julie’s house. When Trey attempts to rape Marissa, she fights him off, and, noticing a nearby log, hits him over the head with it, which gives her the time she needs to run away. After Ryan finds out what he tried to do, he goes to Trey’s apartment and the two get into a violent fist fight. Marissa shows up to try to stop it, but Trey gets the upper hand and, before he has a chance to beat Ryan to death, Marissa picks up a gun and shoots him. When Johnny dies, Marissa finds herself in a state of grief once again, and as a result, enters into a volatile relationship with Kevin Volchok, a hard partying, bad-tempered delinquent, which leads Marissa to make a lot of bad choices, such as abusing alcohol and trying cocaine. Though Marissa can be private and unhappy with the society she lives in, she knows how to engage with it when she wants to. She’s very outgoing and has a lot of friends (though, she doesn’t connect deeply with the majority of them). During high school, she even holds the position of social chair. Though Marissa is critical of her mom’s materialism and concern with social status, Marissa is always impeccably dressed and, when her father moves into an apartment following his financial woes, tries to downplay the severity of the situation because a part of her does care about appearances.

Tertiary Introverted Intuition [Ni]: Marissa isn’t goal-oriented and doesn’t really think too far ahead. She sometimes struggles to commit to things or make long-term decisions. Even though she is accepted to Berkeley, she comes to the conclusion that she’s not ready for college and instead chooses to take some time off to work with her father on a boat. Sometimes, Marissa can be insightful and is able to tell what’s really going on beneath the surface, but she has trouble following her intuition and comes up with alternative explanations when there seemingly obvious warning signs right in front of her. She’s not great at sensing manipulation or deception, as evidenced by the Oliver situation. Marissa’s tertiary function is quite underdeveloped, which is probably due to a combination of emotional instability and her desire to be helpful to people she establishes connections with. Many of Marissa’s goals are rooted in her Fi. She has a bit of a savior complex, believing she can help others in their time of need, even at her own personal expense. She can become so focused on trying to mend the parade of damaged people that enter her life that she often neglects her preexisting relationships (Fi-Ni).

Inferior Extroverted Thinking [Te]: As Harbor’s social chair, Marissa is charged with planning and executing many parties, fundraisers, dances, and events. When she wants to, she can be good at organizing and getting the job done. Marissa can be very harsh when she’s lashing out at someone. However, as Marissa’s personal issues deepen, she tries to avoid being in charge of events. She isn’t great at controlling her external world, and prefers to just go with the flow. She is very critical of her external world and rebels the shallow phoniness of Newport. She doesn’t want to be a part of the system she was born into and refuses to assimilate the way her peers do. She loathes the idea of abiding by Newport society’s rules and standards.

Enneagram: 4w3 Sx/So

Quotes:

Marissa: Oliver, I have to go sometime! Oliver: What? To him? To him, right? What about me? Marissa: You and I are friends, we will always be friends! Oliver: Friends?! Friends, Marissa? I’m in love with you! How could you not know that? I’ve always been!

Marissa: Ryan: [to Marissa] You listen to punk, huh? Marissa: I’m angry.

Luke: We need to talk, Marissa. Marissa: Believe me, you do not want to hear what I have to say. Luke: Yes I do. Marissa: No. All you want is for me to tell you that everything’s okay now. But I can’t. It’s not. Luke: I know— I know. And I’m so sorry. Marissa: I don’t care! I don’t care how you feel or what you’re going through. Because you sure as hell didn’t care about me. Luke: That’s not true. Marissa: I slept with you. And then you went and slept with one of my best friends. I waited for you and you lied to me. You humiliated me.

Alex: Screw it. I’m a huge fan of spontaneous first dates. Marissa: I am too.

Marissa: Look, Luke and I got in a fight last night, okay? Julie: So you got into a fight. You’ve had fights before. You guys have been together forever. Marissa: Maybe that’s the problem. I mean, what if there’s someone else out there? Julie: Like who, that boy from Chino? Marissa, do you want to end up like your Aunt Cindy, with four kids in a trailer park? She broke my mother’s heart. I will not let you break mine. Marissa: Oh, so now this is about you?

Seth: No wait, listen to me. This wouldn’t be just an ordinary bar mitzvah, you know what this would be? Wait for it… wait… A Chrismuckkah Bar mitzvahkkah. Spell that dude! Ryan: That’s crazy. Seth: Yeah? So crazy that it just might work. Marissa: So we throw a big party… Summer: And Ryan gets the money from the bar mitzvah? Marissa: And then we can spend the money for Johnny’s surgery. Ryan: How’s this going to work? Am I just gonna stand in front of Newport and sing in Hebrew? Seth: You chant, and hell yes.

Marissa: Well, if it isn’t the wicked witch of the west coast. Julie: Are you drunk? [to D.J] Julie: Let me guess: tequila? D.J.: She was like this when I picked her up. Marissa: You don’t have to defend youself to her. Julie: No, but you do young lady! Marissa: Come on, let’s go D.J. before she tries to sleep with you next. Julie: What did you say? Marissa: You heard me you whore! You know let’s do it. Let’s tell everyone right here! [to Jimmy] Marissa: You know, let’s tell everyone why you’re leaving Dad. Why don’t you tell everyone why you’re leaving? Julie: Marissa… Marissa: Get off me! Julie:[to Jimmy] You see what you’re leaving me with? You see how screwed up she is? Marissa: Of course I’m screwed up! I’m the daughter of a thief and a slut! I just hate you both so much!

Marissa: Mom wants to take me with her to cardio. She thinks it’s another way we can “bond”. I almost want to go, so I can work out and get strong enough to kick her ass. Summer: Marissa, do you really think you should be going to cardio? Do you really need it? Marissa: What’s that supposed to mean? Summer: No offense, and I really mean this in as a good thing, but you have gotten very thin recently. Marissa: I eat. [Summer takes a sip on her drink and almost chokes] Summer: Uh, and you apparently drink too! What’s in this? Lighter fluid? Marissa: [takes a sip without blinking an eye] It’s my own drink. I call it a Newport iced tea. Summer: It’s ten o’clock in the morning. It’s a little too early to be drinking. Marissa: For who?

Summer: Did you spike your latte? Marissa: It’s been a weird day. Summer: Marissa, we’re at school. Marissa: Yeah. Exactly.

Marissa: Come on, I can’t wait for you to see the rest of the house. And my mom’s face when she sees you in it.

Julie: So listen, Riviera Magazine wants to do a big photospread on us. Now I think it’s a great opportunity for us to demonstrate the resilience and strength of this family. It’s wonderful exposure. Marissa: Any chance to expose yourself, huh? Julie: Promise you’ll be here, you’ll wear something Marc Jacobs and you won’t be off with your boyfriend.

Dean Hess: You almost killed another kid. I don’t even hear a hint of remorse in your voice. Marissa: Because I don’t have any. I’m proud of what I did and I’d do it again.

Marissa: Dad, look, I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but if you have to go, then go. But if you leave, then I don’t want you to come back. It’s too hard to keep saying goodbye like this.

Marissa: Thanks. I really don’t know why she’s got it in for me. Casey: My guess is the bag. And the shoes. And the Chanel necklace probably isn’t helping either, but it’s just a guess. Anyways, welcome to Newport Union. I’m Casey. Marissa: Marissa. Cooper. You’re the first nice person I’ve actually met. Casey: And I’m not even that nice.

Marissa: I’m sorry for all the craziness. Ryan: I wouldn’t have done it any differently. Except maybe Oliver.

Marissa: Believe me, if there was something I could do, I would. Seth: Yeah, well, I think you’ve done enough, so… Marissa: What does that mean? Seth: I just don’t think even Ryan would be back with Theresa if it weren’t for you and Oliver in the first place. Summer: Cohen! Seth: Really. All you ever did was drag that kid into your messed-up life.

Summer: So Ryan just like punched him for no reason? Marissa: Well that’s what Ryan does. He punches people. He doesn’t talk to them. And he doesn’t listen. Summer: Okay, well he had to have a reason though. I mean Ryan’s violent but he’s not stupid. Marissa: I don’t know. He thinks Oliver’s in love with me or something. Summer: Well isn’t he?

Marissa: Are you okay? You know he was just playing. Ryan: I’m fine. Luke: That guy was not playing.

Marissa: You don’t have a problem with Oliver, do you? Ryan: Nah. I mean, guy shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he’s hanging around all the time. Marissa: Yeah. A guy shows up out of the blue. Knows no one, abandoned by his family. Sound familiar? Ryan: A little bit. Marissa: Look. You did something nice for him and now he wants to repay you.

Marissa Cooper (The O.C.): ISFP was originally published on MBTI Zone

[thethingwewrite]

How to become a dad?

Summary: Dean found out from Sam that he has a daughter and aslo that you are dead. How is he going to deal with your daughter ? What will happen to them ?

Prompt: Single Parents

Pairing : None

Word Count : 3225

Warning : Angst, Character dead, alcohol, blood

A/N : Hi Everyone. Here is my entry for @curliesallovertheplace celebration challenge, I am sorry i am late for this but i had a hard time writing this and i aslo had personal reason that made me have a writing block. Thank you to @secretlyfurrydragon and @mrswhozeewhatsis for betaing this. Thanks to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing for letting me use her names because i wasn’t impirate for this one. Hope you all like it

Tag : @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, @dr-dean, @helvonasche, @wevegotworktodo, @thorne93, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @faith-in-dean,@roxy-davenport,  @fangirl1802, @percywinchester27,  @bloodysideofhell, @girl-next-door-writes, @kittenofdoomage, @supernatural-jackles, @purgatoan, @mysupernaturalfics, @winchester-smut,  @cici0507, @ariannnawinchester

Dean Pov

“(Y/N) is dead?” Dean’s heart broke at every syllable of the words while Sam nodded.

Dean waved him off, not wanting to hear him. He walked toward the stairs, then turned to face Sam not sure of what he just heard.

“What!?” he asked in shock.

Sam sighed. “(Y/N)... (Y/N), she had a daughter, your daughter.”

Dean shook his head. “No. No... I only saw (Y/N) 3 months ago,” he mumbled, not understanding. ‘How could we have a daughter? Unless…’

He glanced up at Sam. Dean could tell Sam knew it was just a matter of time for him to understand that 16 years ago after a night, yeah, a hell of a night with (Y/N), she must have had his daughter. Dean didn't expect a 16-year-old girl to walk into his life.

“W... Where is she?” he asked.

“Right here,” a female voice said behind him.

Dean turned around, his eyes widening. The girl in front of him was a perfect replica of (Y/N), from her blond curled hair to her lips, only with his freckles and his green emerald eyes. He swallowed hard, not sure what to do, but he was thankful that his brother Sam was there.

“Dean, this is Emilie Rose. Emilie, this is Dean, your father,” Sam introduced them.

Dean could tell that the girl was suspicious about him, even nervous. He came closer to her and extended his hand to her, not sure if it was alright for him to hug her or not.

Emilie shrugged. “Is there a room for me in this Batcave,” she asked Sam while looking around.

Dean slightly frowned, she didn’t want to know him. He understood that it was probably more confusing for her.

Sam sighed. “I’ll show you,” he said before looking at Dean practically telling him that he would talk to him later.

Dean watched them go, completely vulnerable and speechless, everything overwhelming him. He needed to think, to clear his mind, and to leave, now. In no time, he stood in front of the garage door looking over to where Baby sat in all her glory. He got in and started the engine to leave the bunker as he felt a calm fall over him. The Impala had always calmed him in a way no one else could. He drove out of the bunker as the sun was setting and the darkness of the night surrounded him. How would he be able to do this? He didn't know how to raise a kid… wait, no, he knew how to raise one, he did raise Sam and kind of raised Ben, what he didn't know was how to raise a 16-year-old girl, his own daughter.

Dean sighed. ‘This will be so complicated,’ he thought.

Lucky him, he had a friend who could help. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed his number. Dean hoped he would pick up the phone, but it ended up with his answering machine.

Dean frowned. “Hey, Cas, something came up. I need you, man. I will be at the bar, the usual one,” he said before hanging up.

The bar was 14 miles away from the bunker and also just outside of town. It was perfect for Dean whenever he decided to go out and grab a beer after a successful hunt, or even a bad hunt. He really enjoyed going there. Especially for the atmosphere, the girls, the food, and the alcohol, but mostly because he could blow off some steam and go back to the bunker to quickly relax and sleep without driving for hours.

The second Dean walked into the bar, the memory of meeting (Y/N) here three months ago came back in his mind. He could practically see them at the moment like he was watching a movie. He walked towards their table and sat there while waiting for his beer. They had talked about everything and nothing, and he had watched the way she talked to him like he was the only person in the place. But he was a jerk and made all kinds of jokes he shouldn't. He knew it was too late to realize now that she had wanted to tell him something. He watched them drink shots after shots and even beers, then he would drunkenly lean down, his hand gently placed on her cheek to pull her closer to him and press their lips together. The make out session was pretty heated, gripping each other’s clothes. If the waitress hadn’t have chased them away they would probably have had sex right there.

Dean sighed and rubbed his face, guilt coming through his veins as he watched them hand in hand walk out of the door. Their image faded away as Cas walked inside the bar, looking around for Dean a few second before rushing toward him. “Dean! I came as fast as I could what seems to be the emergency?” Cas asked.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey Cas,” he said. “Have a seat while I tell you all about my daughter,” he said sarcastically.

Cas tilted his head to the side, surprise written all over his face. “You have a daughter?”

Dean smirked and grabbed his beer from the waitress without thanking or even flirting with her like he would usually do. He wasn’t in the mood, too many thoughts were in his mind at the moment. He was thankful that Cas patiently waited for him, not pressing him to know anything before Dean started to speak and explaining to him what was going on.

“Did you call me because of Claire?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded and Cas sighed. “You know that Claire isn’t my daughter, she is my vessel’s daughter,” he corrected.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You still had to deal with her around you?”

“I am just trying to make sure she is safe like Jimmy would want her to be. She only accepted me because I looked like him,” he said.

Dean rubbed his face. “Where is this going to lead me,” he mumbled. “Don’t answer,” he said, seeing Cas open his mouth.

Emilie Rose POV

In less than 3 days my life went from ok to living in hell. I lost everything: my mother, my old life, and my innocence. Now, I have to face the world as it really is, full of monsters and complete crap. It all happened so quickly, when Sam came to visit or maybe to help my mother with a hunt. I never expected that she had so many secrets from me. It hurt me to think my mother didn't trust me enough to share that kind of secret with me.

I wiped a single tear from my face as I glanced at the pictures of her.

“Oh mom, I wish you would have told me,” I whispered, my hand caressing the picture.

What was I supposed to do with two strangers who, according to Sam, were my family now? I frowned at that. Dean might be my father, but he was never around and I knew he had hurt my mother in the past. There was no way I would accept him, or Sam either. I needed to stay away from them. I stood up, grabbed my bags, and made my way out of the room. Carefully, I walked down the hallway to find the entrance. However, this place was so huge, the only places I found were the kitchen, the bathroom, and the storage room.

I wasn't going to give up that easily. Like my mother, I was very stubborn. It took me a few minutes to find the library while making sure Sam or Dean weren't around. I then headed straight toward the stairs, climbing them quickly, and forcing open the heavy metallic door. I pouted when I saw I needed to cross another long hallway.

‘Damn this place is a labyrinth,” I thought, shaking my head before walking along the dark corridor.

Once finally outside, darkness and fog encircled me, but I shrugged, took a deep breath, and decided to start walking. The more I walked, the more the fog became thicker and I couldn't think, as the idea of going alone didn't seem great. I started to have a panic attack just like the previous night when I discovered the whole truth about the dark part of my world. Just like that night, my lungs started to lose air. I kneeled down with a hand on the ground to hold myself while the other tried to search for my inhaler.

Like a bomb dropped in the desert, my memories blew my mind with all the different images: the surprise discovery of my mother’s secrets, all the weapons in the basement, the argument we both had in front of Sam, and the moment I decided to disobey her, which led directly to her death.

As tears fell down my face, I was completely paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, and the pressure as everything overwhelmed me. A hand pressed against my shoulder and I looked up and saw Dean.

“Emilie!? What is going on?” he asked, picking me up.

“I.. Inhale... Inhaler,” I said with difficulties. “Ja... Jacket.”

Dean quickly reacted, searched in my jacket pocket, found my inhaler, and gave it to me. I took it and used it, and after a few minutes I was able to breathe weakly. As I slowly returned to normal, I unconsciously rested my head against Dean's chest. I felt comfortable, safe, and protected. It was the same feeling I had when I was in my mother's arms, except her sweet vanilla perfume was replaced with strong whiskey and gunpowder.

Reluctantly, I let Dean sit me down in the passenger seat of his car. I didn't dare look at him when he spoke to me.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded, not able to answer him, holding back tears wondering why he cared so much for me.

Dean sighed. “Listen, Emilie. I know everything must be hard for you right n--”

I looked up at him upset with tears in my eyes.“Oh, you do! Have you seen your mother die because of you and lost everything you’ve ever known your whole life at the same time!?” you yelled.

Dean's phone started ringing not giving him any time to answer me. He grabbed his phone and answered it.

“What!?” he said harshly. “Hold on Sam, try using full words,” he said after a few seconds. “Don’t worry--” he was interrupted again by Sam.

I could barely hear him, but by the sound of it, I guessed he was freaking out. Dean was rolling his eyes and told him he had found me. I felt a bit guilty for leaving like that, since Sam was only being nice to me and trying to help. Dean hung up the phone after a few more seconds of talking. “Seems like you scared the crap out of Sam and he is not easily scared. Well, except if you go into his por--, um, books” he said a little ashamed. “Let’s go back,” he said as he closed my door then climbed into the driver seat.

The drive to the bunker wasn't long, just a few minutes, which didn't give us time to talk more. I was thankful for it. Within minutes, Dean was turning the engine off after parking the Impala in the garage. I immediately left the car, not expecting Sam to be waiting for us. I could tell he was worried because when I reached him, he was about to speak, but a look at Dean convinced him not to. Surprised by this, I didn’t say anything, even if I wanted to. Without knowing exactly what to say, though, I just walked out of the garage, stopping only when I heard my name.

“Look, man, she doesn't seem to want me around. So drop it,” Dean said.

“You can’t give up like that. (Y/N) wouldn't want that,” Sam said. “You two need each other right now, especially her. She needs you,” he said. “She needs us,” he added.

“Well, if you are that eager to help her, she’s all yours,” he said. “For me, it’s a lost cause.”

The few pieces of my heart fell apart at that moment, not expecting to hear that while tears invited themselves again. Before any of them could see me I walked away to reach my room, or at least the place I would have to stay in, not wanting to see them again.

(Y/N) POV

You sighed as you watched your daughter, then Dean, walk away. You were a ghost now, unable to do anything but watch as your loved ones pushed away from each other. You couldn’t do anything to help them, to make sure they would try to know each other and to start to love each other. You followed Emilie as you wouldn’t imagine that anything like that would have happened three months ago, maybe if you had the courage to tell Dean about her when you visit him after Emilie finding out about them, things might have been differents but instead you got drunk and had sex.

You were glad Sam was around even if he found out 3 days earlier, you called him because of a hunt in the area and you didn’t want Emilie to get involved, however you underestimate her curiosity especially after knowing that Sam was Dean’s brother. She couldn’t stop asking questions about him and wondered why he wasn’t around right, the next days things got worst specifically when she found about their criminal record and yours too then your weapons in the basement. Which lead to an argument with her in front of Sam, you scold and send her to her room to make sure she wouldn’t follow you.

But Emilie did because she was a very curious, stubborn and dreamy teenager, you should have known she wouldn’t have stopped her from following you and Sam. The moment you realized she was following it was too the creatures had smelled her and went straight toward her that is was you sacrificed yourself to save her. Sam killed the monster before it could to any more damage to you but it was too late, you were losing so much blood that it wasn’t possible to fix you and you made Sam promise him and Dean would take care of Emilie.

Now here you were wishing you could hold her in your arms as she cried her heart out. You wished you could go to Dean’s room and yell at him until he would come here, awkwardly apologize to her, and try to make up for it. However, all of these were just wishes as you stood there with your tears falling down your face, knowing that the following days would be difficult to watch.

The next few weeks showed that you were right. Emilie spent most of her time in her room trying her best to avoid Sam, but mostly Dean. Knowing your daughter, her room was the safest place to be after learning the truth about the world. You scoffed as you watched Dean being his usual self, drinking all night or having his way with a woman.

‘This man will never change,’ you thought.

Shaking your head, you knew well where this was going to go. Sooner or later you would turn into a vengeful spirit with unfinished business and this was not how you wanted to go down. Well, you already went down, but this time it would be for good. You didn't know how much time you had before turning evil, except you knew that you needed to make sure those two stubborn people would decide to actually give each other a chance. That made you only want to push, yell, or bite them to get them to do something. You were a little relieved that Sam was trying to help them. That made you happy. You still needed to do something, but what could you possibly do that wouldn’t scare Emilie more than she already was or kill you?

Nevertheless, something you didn’t expect happened while you haunted the hallway, looking for a way to talk to them.

“(Y/N),” Dean’s broken voice said behind you.

You turned around to look at him completely surprised.  “Y...you can see me ?”

Dean nodded. “You need to move on now,” he said, his voice breaking.

You shook her head. “I can't. You and Emilie have to be close.”

“We are mom,” Emilie said, scared, though she came closer to you.

“Emilie don't,” Dean said, trying to stop her.

“She needs to know,” she said to Dean, then turned to you. “Mom, listen. You have been here for months…”

“No. It has only been three weeks,” you argued, not believing her.

Dean sighed. “We don't want to hurt you, (Y/N). I don't want to make you leave but it's time. (Y/N), please,” he confessed.

You watched them, confused and worried that you might have hurt them, might have become a vengeful spirit earlier than expected. You noticed the fear in Emilie’s eyes that she actually tried to hide with all the courage she had as she faced you. Meanwhile, Dean was definitely broken, but he tried to remain strong for her.

“What have I done?” you asked them.

Dean and Emilie looked at each other. Dean nodded at her like they had a mental conversation but she didn’t seem to want to say something.

“Emilie Karina Rose! Tell me what I have done now!” you ordered.

Emilie swallowed hard and stepped back, scared of you. You didn’t understand why until you saw your reflection in the hallway mirror. Your skin was gray, your blond curled hair levitated in the air, and in your eyes, there was pure evil. Straightaway, everything hit you like a punch in the face. It was hard and painful, but you remembered that after 3 days of seeing Emilie crying and Dean going out at night, you went completely crazy. Your only goal was to hurt Dean because of how much he didn’t seem to care about Emilie.

However, it didn't last long. You usually disappeared for a week, then returned there thinking you hadn't been there for long. Immediately, you become yourself again.

“What have I done?” you asked with a heartbroken voice.

“Mom listen to me. I know you want to protect me, I totally understand, but I am not alone anymore. Dad has been here to protect and take care of me, and I am here for him as well,” she said with a weak smile.

You turned to look at Dean, who nodded. “You can leave in peace. Even though bad things happened, you made me realize how much I wanted to become a father,” he said. “This hard time made me become a dad.”

You felt your heart become lighter than before. You knew she would be safe with him, even though they both could be really stubborn, now you knew you could let go. A glowing light came out of the ceiling and surrounded you. You looked at both of them one last time as a single tear fell down of each of their faces.

“I love you,” you said before disappearing.