#and it took dean yelling at him for adam to start moving

[unfavorableangel]

reminder that adam got locked in that room because he was staring at michael instead of running.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: you know the episode 4.19 where Sam and Dean get a call from their supposed half brother and their rightfully suspicious and it ends up being a hunt for them? What about instead of Sam getting tied down and bled it’s their baby sister? She’s small and young and definitely shouldn’t be losing this much blood, she can’t even lift herself up after Sam and Dean manage to free her. Pls and thank you!

Request: I have a request on s4 e19 when Sam gets tortured by the ghouls. Can you reverse the roles with Winchester sister? No rush do whenever you want. Just remember to take breaks and drink water! Bye! :)

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Extreme Blood Loss

A/N: Please let me know if you like this because it helps motivate me to write more lol! Requests are open and if I haven’t gotten to yours yet feel free to request again because I have over 200 requests and I’m working on a bunch. You can request anything and everything I don’t care and I will never get annoyed!!

“Okay we’ve closed off every other way into the house.” You said to Adam, looking at the last tunnel in the house that wasn’t closed off. “If this thing is coming, it’s coming through here.” You finished at the same time as a door creaked through the house. Your attention immediately snapped towards the noise.

“You were saying?” Adam asked and you looked back towards him.

“Adam!” You heard from the other room and your heart sank.

“Adam!” It cried again, but before you could make your next move Adam was already calling back out.

“Mom?” Adam yelled, ready to run.

“No!” You tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen.

“Mom!” He yelled out and pushed past you.

“Adam!” You shouted after him, getting your gun ready. You ran down the steps after him trying to get him to stop.

“Mom?” You heard him sigh in relief.

“Adam no wait!” You cried out and rounded the corner to see Adam and the monster.

“It took me, but I got away.” It cried as Adam embraced her.

“Adam, step away from it.” You screamed with your gun pointed.

“Y/N, what the hell?” He shouted at you, confused.

“It’s not your mother!” You tried to reason with him.

“Adam, who—what is going on?” The monster cried.

“Get away from him!” You yelled at it starting to feel hopeless.

“What is going on?” It cried.

“You listen to me. It’s really her, okay?” Adam said, pushing it behind him.

“There was too much blood, your mother’s dead. There was too much blood in the vents!” You yelled trying to quickly explain before he snatched the gun out of your hand.

“Adam!” It cried.

“Shoot it!” You screamed, now terrified of the predicament you were both in.

“He’s crazy, it’s me!” It yelled in protest of the gun being pointed at it and immediately Adam pointed the gun back at you.

“Look—Adam!” You cried.

“It’s me!” It said.

“That’s not your mother!” You screamed trying to save the both of you and make him understand that his mother was not his mother and in fact the monster they were hunting. He flipped the gun back on the monster.

“Shoot it! It’s not human!” You yelled, trying to get through to him.

“I know.” He smirked, turning to face you. You had no time to be confused with what the hell was happening before he hit you with the butt of the gun and everything went black.

——-

You woke up to humming and noticed you were tied down to a table. You started struggling to get yourself out, but to no avail.

“Silver. No need none of the tests worked. You’re not shapeshifters. You’re ghouls.” You sneered, staring at Adam’s fake mom.

“You know, I find that term racist.” She replied with a knife in her hand.

“Huh.” You said with attitude, rolling your eyes. You tried to free yourself once more when she came to you sniffing you and biting your ear.

“Ew! Get away you weirdo freak!” You yelled. You had quite a bad problem with bad mouthing monsters and it always ended up biting you in the butt.

“Fresh meat. So much better than what we’re used to.” She grinned.

“Oh I should’ve known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living because you’re all just disgusting, filthy, nasty, trash pickers, taking form of the last corpse you choke down like a scavenger.” You sneered, again with the name calling. She was lucky you had to get to the point because you were just going to go on and on with all the negative words in the dictionary.

“And their thoughts, and their memories. Like Adam for instance.” Fake Adam said, walking into the room.

“Yeah well we are what we eat.” She chuckled.

“You’re pathetic monsters.” You said with disgust. Fake Adam sliced your one arm open and you let out a groan. His fake mom immediately went to licking the blood.

“That was for calling us pathetic.” Adam said.

“Yeah I’d call you a lot more than that. Do you have time?” You asked sarcastically, still struggling to get away.

“You know you use that word a lot, Y/N. Monsters.” Fake Adam said and brought the knife down on the table missing you by just an inch.

“But I don’t think you know what it means.” He finished as his fake mom continued to lick the blood pouring out of your arm.

“Her blood—it tastes different.” She said in confusion.

“Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Y/N. Living anyway.” Fake Adam smirked and grabbed the knife.

“No he was no monster. But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.” Adam’s fake mom said trickling the knife up and down your body. Fake Adam stuck his fingers into the wound on your side and you cried out in pain.

“Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I, grew up on our own.” She explained as he twisted his finger deeper into your side and you let out a scream.

“At least we had each other.” She finished. He took his finger out of your wound and licked the blood off of it.

“Like you and your brothers— inseparable.” He said.

“Actually it was very hard to get you on your own. Your brothers are almost always keeping you out of harms way. Awww how protective.” She said sarcastically.

“So we figured instead of killing all of you, why not just kill you? They would suffer way more knowing that their wittle baby sister is dead.” He said in a fake sad voice.

“Go to hell.” You managed to get out.

“Like you said, Y/N, the only thing you can count on is family.” He said as she sucked more blood out of your arm.

“And for 20 years, we lived like rats. Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh. And then we thought hey why not move up to the fresher game?” She said.

“And we knew just where to start.” He smirked and started carving on your other arm. You cried out in pain and felt the world fading around you.

“Revenge— it’s never over, is it, Y/N?” He asked, still carving around your arm.

“First, it was John’s cop friend, and then his slut and then his son.” She said twirling her knife around.

“Then I called John, but the son of a bitch was already dead.” Adam sighed, disappointed.

“So I guess you will have to do instead.” She said, petting the side of your face.

“And they won’t interrupt us this time. We’re gonna feed on you nice and slow— like we did with Adam.” He said.

“Oh and by the way, he really was your brother. You should know that.” She grinned. You struggled against the ropes that tied you down, trying anything to escape.

“He was still alive when we took our first bites.” He smiled.

“And he was a screamer!” She said before she sliced your entire forearm. Fake Adam followed after her and sliced your arm again. You screamed in pain and thrashed. You could feel the blood pooling out of your body and you could hear it dripping into the bowls. The way it flowed like a waterfall made you feel absolutely sick. You knew you were going to bleed out and that you didn’t have much time left.

“Y/N, the more you struggle, the faster you’re going to bleed out. So you might as well lie back and relax.” Adam said as you whined and whimpered, trying to stay awake.

“Hey!” You heard Dean scream and a shot ring out.

“Dean, they’re ghouls-“ You tried screaming, but you were so weak it came out as a whisper. You knew Dean heard you though because another shot rung out.

“Which means headshot.” He said as Sam came stumbling into the room.

“Y/N!” He yelled before he was taken down by fake Adam and thrown through the glass doors. Dean immediately followed suit as you groaned and cried out. Your breaths were becoming rapid and shorter. You didn’t have enough energy to pick up your head to see the fight going down. It felt like forever before you saw blurry figure walk back into the room. Not knowing who it was, you tried to get your body to move. You felt like you had a fifty pound weight holding your body down.

“No!” You whimpered weakly, knowing you had no fight left in you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s Sam, sweetheart. I got you, you’re safe.” You heard Sam and felt him cup your cheeks to get your attention.

“S‘mmy.” You slurred.

“Yeah, hey bug, it’s me, I got you.” Sam said softly trying to comfort you, knowing that it was bad.

“Dean, she’s freezing cold.” Sam cried out trying to stay calm.

“Shit.” Dean said panicking. You felt the rope being cut off of your one wrist and you groaned out in pain.

“I know kid, I know. Hang in there for me okay?” Dean said, knowing that it was painful, but it had to be done. He started cutting the other one on your wrist while Sam started on your ankles. You felt your heart racing, your body sweating and your skin clammy. You could barely hang on to consciousness and your body felt weighed down by a million weights.

“Mmm scared.” You slurred looking into the blurriness of your brothers.

“You’re going to be okay sweetheart alright? You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to us okay?” Sam asked, now full on panicking, but trying to keep you calm. You knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much blood and you weren’t sure if you were going to be okay. You let a few tears slide down your cheeks as you struggled to catch your breath.

“No, no, no. You’re going to be okay, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean said noticing your tears. He quickly placed rags on your forearms and held them tight to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain and tried to pull away when you felt him putting pressure on them.

“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry.” Dean said clenching his jaw. Sam made his next move by helping you sit up, but your body felt like jelly. You couldn’t lift yourself up as your head lobbed to the side of you. This feeling absolutely terrified you and left your body trembling in fear. The impending doom was taking over and it was paralyzing you. As your brothers scrambled around you trying to support your body, they urgently discussed their next steps in helping you when you interrupted.

“Mm I going to die?” You whispered weakly, blinking away the dots that clouded your vision. Scared that if you closed them, you wouldn’t open them again.

“HEY, HEY!” Dean yelled and tapped your face. Your eyes snapped wide open and your body trembled uncontrollably as you whimpered in fear.

“You’re not going to die. Do you hear me? Just keep those eyes open for me, alright?” Dean asked with fear in his own eyes, but when he looked into yours he was met with confusion.

“Wh-what?” You started. In an instant, you were confused. Where were you? What happened?

“De?” You called out for your eldest brother, the one who took care of you your entire life. The one who was always there for you when you called.

“Yeah I’m here baby, I’m here.” He said. Baby? He only called you that when something serious was happening. You finally took in your surroundings and saw yourself covered in blood as your brothers worked around you.

“What happened!” You cried out, completely confused and dazed.

“Relax sweetheart, you’re going to be okay, alright? You’re going to be okay.” You heard Sam say as he lifted your body off of the table. You grunted in pain, but your body only grew heavier.

“There’s too much blood!” Dean cried.

“I know, I know!” Sam yelled in frustration.

It felt like time was skipping because the next thing you knew, you were in the impala. You glanced to your right and noticed your dad.

“Dad?” You asked, fuzzily. Dean immediately looked towards Sam who glanced down towards you.

“She’s hallucinating Dean, she’s lost too much blood.” Sam said stealing a concerned glance towards his brother. Dean gripped the steering wheel tight and cursed silently, speeding faster.

“Dad, I missed you.” You cried, which caused Dean to completely break.

“Hey baby, no, dad’s not here, alright? Dad’s not here.” He said weakly, completely terrified of his sister’s state.

“Mmm t’red.” You said weakly, the heaviness and the blood loss making their last round on you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, you’ve gotta stay awake.” Sam said urgently, but you didn’t listen and closed your eyes in exhaustion.

“Keep your eyes open please!” Sam cried out and tapped your face. It had no effect on you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

———

You jumped awake to a beeping noise in a complete panic. You were in a daze and physically couldn’t lift yourself up which made you panic more.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” You heard Dean say, but the beeping noise only got faster. You were in total confusion and couldn’t make out where you were.

“Relax for me kid, you’re alright.” You heard Dean again and this time felt a hand placed on you. You groggily looked around and saw that you were in a hospital room. You immediately went into an intense shiver unsure if it was from how cold you were or if it was from the nerves that just overcame you. Dean cupped the side of your face, no doubt feeling your body tremor.

“You’re okay.” He said softly, giving you a reassuring nod.

“So cold.” You made out and he sent you a sad look.

“Alright, let me go find a nurse and get you some more blankets.” He replied hesitantly unsure if he wanted to leave you alone when Sam walked into the room with coffee. Sam’s immediate sigh of relief when he saw you awake and his glance towards Dean made you realize how serious whatever happened to you was. Dean left the room and Sam walked towards you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said softly, sitting in front of you.

“Sammy.” You smiled weakly and tried to reach out to him. He immediately got the hint and took your hands into his.

“I’m here.” He said gently and rubbed his fingers on your hand.

“I’m so weak.” You mumbled, trying to understand why your body felt so heavy.

“What happened?” You whispered, not remembering anything that took place. Sam’s face fell and his eyes filled with sorrow.

“The ghouls had you bleeding out and when we got to you it was almost too late. You were so pale and you were ice cold. You were so cold bug, it terrified me.” Sam said, looking away and trying to collect himself.

“There was blood everywhere, we weren’t even sure how you were alive at that point. Then you started hallucinating and went unconscious. We thought we lost you, God we were so scared.” He said, shedding a tear and quickly wiping it before it could drop.

“We rushed you to the hospital, not knowing if you were even alive and waited around for hours not hearing anything. Then the doctor came out and told us you were stabilized, but lost 35% of your blood. He said you should’ve died and that it was nothing less of a miracle.” He said as his voice cracked.

“You were in a coma for two weeks.” He explained quietly, knowing this was going to freak you out.

“I’ve been out for two weeks?!” You asked, hysterically.

“They said it could’ve been up to a couple months, we just weren’t sure when you’d wake up.” He said as you just stared blankly at him.

“We were so terrified to lose you. Dean even prayed a few times.” He finished. You both knew that Dean never prayed and he never believed that there was a God out there so the fact that it got to the point where Dean was praying, made you extremely emotional. The tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m so sorry Sammy, I should’ve known it was a trap.” You cried, feeling terrible and guilty that your brothers had to be put through something so traumatic because of your own mistake.

“Sweetheart, no, it’s not your fault. Me and Dean should’ve never left you alone with Adam. We weren’t thinking and it almost cost you your life.” Sam said, staring into your eyes and wiping your tears. Before you could say something back, the door opened. Dean, a few nurses and a doctor walked in. They checked your vitals and explained that you were going to be very weak for about a month. You had iron deficiency anemia due to the blood loss and it would take a long time for you to start feeling normal again. They left the room and Dean put the extra blankets that they brought in on top of you. The weight and coziness of the blankets made you immediately feel tired. Your brothers took notice and Dean kissed the side of your head.

“Get some rest kid, we’ll be here.” Dean reassured.

“Thank you for saving me.” You smiled softly looking between your brothers.

“Always.” Dean said as Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

[castiwls]

Hey there! 😀 Can I request two sets of headcanons about being Sam and Dean's twin sister?

"i was with you before we were even born"

Being the boy's twin

Dean

He’s older by like 5 minutes (he never lets you forget it)

You were both really close even as babies. I imagine there was a phase where if your parents separated you both for too long you would cry.

You both get closer after the fire. For the first few months, you would always curl up in the same bed together out of fear of the other one disappearing.

As a teen, you started to question your dad more and more about hunting. You're not as complacent as Dean is to John and his rules. This led to many arguments. 

“Why can’t you just do as he says?” “Because Dad’s word isn't god Dean!”

He’d be just as protective over you as he is of Sam.

When Sam left for Stanford you and Dean started to take cases on your own.

You would try and sabotage any hookups he found in bars. You really hated having to go for ‘walks’ during said hookups. He got you back for it. 

You both look very alike. 

When it was just you and Dean hunting there were multiple times where people would mistake you for a couple of cases.

After your dad died you and Dean didn’t talk for a while. You both argued over why John did what he did and it led to one of your worst fights.

Bobby had to kick sense into you both.

You and Dean don’t fight often but when you do it's bad. When you were younger one time it got so bad that it took Sam yelling and walking out for you both to stop.

When Castiel came around you were unsure but after he saved you on a hunt you began to trust him.

Knowing Dean wasn’t ok after Hell and begging him to talk.

“Dean I know you're not ok.” You frowned and reached out to his arm. “You can talk to me, no one's gonna judge you.”

He did eventually tell you he remembered hell. He begged you not to tell Sam though. (You did tell Sam though)

Finding out about the whole vessel thing and freaking out.

“What do you mean vessels? Why is Heaven and Hell’s fight our issue?”

Since you and Dean were twins you both were classed as Micheal vessels.

You were adamant that Dean wasn’t doing it and he was the same about you.

This again led to another argument.

In the end, there was no way you were letting Sam walk into that fight alone so you ended up saying yes also.

Dean was pissed.

Dean begging for months after that Cas or someone would pull you both out of the cage. (Little did he know someone had)

You randomly appeared on Lisa’s doorstep 6 months later and Dean completely freaked.

After that, he barely let you out of his sight.

You didn’t tell him about Sam also being out (You knew something was wrong with your younger brother and you didn’t wanna worry Dean.)

Eventually reuniting with Sam and feeling so guilty when you found out he had no soul.

Dean insisted that it wasn’t your fault.

He helped you with nightmares from the cage. You found yourself sleeping in the same bed as him again.

Sam

You were older by like 10 minutes. You always teased him about it.

He got you back by teasing you over being short.

Neither of you have any memories of life before the fire so as children you used to both make up stories to help comfort each other.

These stories helped you both pretend that you at least knew your mom and what normal life was like.

You both kinda depended on each other growing up.

While you didn’t verbalise it like Sam, you also didn’t like hunting or the constant moving around.

You were a bit more of a social butterfly than your twin but you still struggled with having to make new friends constantly. 

Like your brother, you were also quite smart and did well in school.

For a while, you wanted to be a doctor but knew realistically you had no chance.

As you got older you began to grow a slight resentment towards your dad for forcing you all into this life. One day after a bad hunt you snapped and told your dad how you felt. New’s flash it went really bad.

Your eyes widened as you realised what you had just said. Dean slowly pushed his arm in front of you urging you to move back as your Dad turned to face you. “What did you just say.” Your dad’s voice was hard as he took a step forward. You felt Sam pull you back further as Dean tried to defuse the situation.

After that things were awkward for a while. You went to go stay with Bobby much to Sam’s disdain.

You came back a year later when you were 17.

Things were ok until Sam left for Stanford. You were happy for him but also jealous that he was getting out and you weren't.

During that time you and Dean became close.

Reconnecting with Sam after your dad went missing and helping him when Jess died.

Feeling guilty when your dad died that you spent so much time resenting him (He apologised just before Azael came)

Unlike your brother, Azael didn’t do anything to you so you never had any issues with demon blood.

Convincing Sam that he wasn’t a monster. 

When he died the first time you were inconsolable for days. 

You and Dean arguing over Deans's deal.

Hating Ruby and knowing she was up to something. Her also causing you and Sam to fall out over his powers.

You and Dean both knew that while Sam was trying to do a good thing she was not.

Helping him with his guilt over Litlth and Lucifer.

Him and you making up after Rubys' death. This actually made you and Sam closer than ever.

Again having to convince him that he is not a bad person when the whole Lucifer and Micheal thing comes to light.

You’re the middleman in the situation. You spent most of your time trying to convince both your brothers not to say yes.

Convincing Dean but not managing to convince your twin.

Before saying yes Sam said that he wanted you to get out and have a normal life.

You were pretty heartbroken but after hanging around Dean and Lisa for a few months you ended up meeting someone  (Lisa set you up but you don’t know that)

You both moved in together and you found yourself actually enjoying this normal life.

Then Sam appeared and you had to choose. Dean told you to stay but you knew you couldn’t leave Sam.

When you found out about Sam having no soul you felt so guilty.

“How didn't I realise sooner?” You sat down on the bed placing your head in your hands. Dean gently rubbed your back with a small sigh. “None of us knew. It’s not your fault.

You ended up kinda living two lives for the next year until Sam got his soul back and you realised living two lives was too dangerous. You broke up with him but you both ended up getting back together a few years later.

Sam was happy that you'd found someone and pushed for you to stay with him. But you knew your place was always gonna be with your brothers.

[teddyniffler]

Chapter 8

“DEAN, DEAN!” His door slammed open as Sam and Castiel stormed in “AUGH!” Dean yelled. Leaping up, bringing out his gun as he did. His hunter instincts kicking in as his heart raced. “Guys, really?” Dean shouted, lowing the gun pointed at his brother and best friend. “You’re here!” Castiel said “Michael has gone” “Oh about that” Dean moved the gun back under his pillow. “He hasn’t gone, he’s right there in fact” Dean pointed to the end of his bed, where Michael sat. The Archangel was paying him no attention, he had been healing himself all night. Right now he was preoccupied with his wings

“You let him him? You said yes?” Sam said, his face twisting into that look Dean knew well “Just drop it Sammy” Dean reasoned. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with his brother. “It’s all fine. Michael give me his word. He’s just here for Adam, who we can now find.” Sam walked out, Castiel give Dean ‘The look’ and left too. “See what I have to put up with? Brothers, I swear” Dean said to Michael. Dean walked into the Kitchen; it was strange being with an Archangel. Did Michael have to move when he moved? As far as Dean knew, he was still in his room, sitting on the bed, however as Dean placed bacon in the frying pan he noticed Michael standing by the wall, touching the notice board with his thin fingers going over the notes. Dean sat and ate. Sam was sipping tea, still not speaking to Dean. “Ok, it was a dick move I know, but we owe Adam this” Dean told him, ripping into the sandwich, chewing and swallowing “We did leave him in hell and he is our brother, if that son of a Bitch Chuck is hurting him, we need to save him, this is on us” “I’m not pissed Dean” Sam said, even though he was. “You lied to me. Again”. Michael flapped his wings slowly, going up and down, feathers rearranging themselves, cuts healing. Dean took another bite. Sam finally stopped looking angry. “Does Michael know where Adam is?” Sam asked, “What’s he saying?” Dean looked at Michael, eyebrow raised “Adam is in the distance” the Archangel said “Um, and in human speak that is?...” Dean asked Sam looked confused

“He is some miles off” Michael tried to explain. “His location is ‘some miles off’” Dean reported to Sam. “We can go there soon, my wings are almost healed” Michael added, still healing his wounds “Michael says he will be ready soon” Dean said “Where is the child?” Michael asked, randomly “What? Jack?” Dean asked “What?” Sam said “He’s asking about the kid” Dean told him. “Yes. ‘Jack’ is that his name?” Michael asked “Kid’s off limits” Dean said “We’re here for Adam” Michael frowned. Dean drowned his coffee down “Ready!” Michael looked up “My wings are not ready yet” He informed Dean “I will need longer to recover” “Nope, we go now. Chuck could be hurting Adam. We’ll go in the car”. Michael looked uneasy “I do not know what a car is” Sam stood, “I’ll get Cas, we’ll leave Jack here, Chuck can’t know he is back” Michael still looked troubled “What is a car?” Michael soon sound out what a car was. He hated it. He was cramped. His wings didn’t fit, his entire body constricted inside this small metal container. It moved. He felt like he was unstable, sitting behind Dean, feeling Castiel’s wings up against him. He wondered how Castiel tolerated this. Did he not feel like he was being thrown side to side as the car turned, pushed back into the seat as the thing accelerated fast, feeling his body jerk as Dean braked. This was awful. He started experiencing a slight sick feeling that was growing as the car took corners fast, some corners very sharp.

“My being does not agree with this” Michael told Dean. “I feel a sickness”. “Just breath” Dean told him “Want to window down?” “I hate this. I much prefer flying.” Michael complained in the backseat. Dean couldn’t help it, he laughed “What is he saying?” Sam asked Dean “He’s getting car sick” Dean had a smile on his face. Michael was sure Dean was going even faster after that. “What direction, Mike?” Dean asked “It’s Michael” The Archangel corrected “And Adam is north and east” “What?” Dean said. “How is he both north and east?” Michael thought “If I were to fly, I would fly north, but lean to the east” Dean thought for a second “North east from here? Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin?” Michael sat forward, holding the seat for support “I do not know those names, but the last one is the birthplace of Adam” Dean swore again “Of course, Chuck knows where Adam lives, we’ll head there” “My father did humanity a great injustice by gifting them to knowledge on inventing these contraptions. I never knew his crimes were so long” “Hey! Cars are awesome. Baby is a fine girl” Dean said Sam was listening, he was looking side ward at Dean with a slight grin. “This is the worst vessel I have travelled in. I wish to burn it” “You take that back, Baby don’t listen to him” Sam held in a laugh.

So, somebody had let Michael out. He knew who. Only somebody with his level of power could open this door. Chuck stood in the destroyed cell, the bars twisted and blown off their hinges. Rubble laid scattered around the floor. “Amara” Chuck hissed. He was raging. His body was shaking. Nobody interfered with his toys. Nobody! He moved around the cell, looking for any sign of something Michael may have dropped. Having found nothing, Chuck got up and stormed out of Heaven’s jail. The doors burst open and Chuck stormed down the hall “Praise Him! Praise-“ The angel give a scream as her eyes were burned out as Chuck smited her as he passed.

“AMARA!” He yelled, looking for his sister. She will give him Michael back. He was not yet finished with his son. He turned corners, the angels seeing his rage cowered, those who were foolish enough to attract Chuck’s attention were smited where they stood. One thing became apparent to Chuck. Amara was not here, his sister had taken Michael and left with him. Fine. He will find them. He paused. What was Michael’s plan? Chuck thought for a second. Michael would naturally want a vessel. Dean would say no. There was no other Winchester who could hold Michel, except Adam. Michael cared a lot for Adam, meaning he would be working his way back to that boy. Chuck smiled, a dangerous smile. He would go and visit Adam and prepare him for Michael’s arrival.

“Hello Adam” The doctor said. Adam opened his eyes. It felt like his head had been carved in two. His breathe felt cold, but then when Adam swallowed, it was agony, as though he had swallowed glass. He reached a shaky hand up to touch his head, sure he would feel blood, maybe his skull cracked open, but there was nothing there. Adam tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth with a raspy nose “Yeah that is to be expected. Do you remember what happened Adam? You tried to hurt yourself again. You drank bleach, you look terrible” The room came into sight. Adam was yet again laying on his bed. He couldn’t remember drinking bleach. The last thing we remembered was going to take his medication.

The doctor seemed to understand his thinking “It causes memory loss” He said “The bleach in your system. We believe it triggered a seizure, we have done all the correct scans” Adam touched his face, his checks were burning. The room blurring. The walls had cracks in them, Doctor Theos kept changing form, his face merging into another person entirely. Even his bed was changing, one moment he was on his bed, the next the floor. “What is happening? Adam managed to get out, trying to speak even though it hurt. Doctor Theos smiled at him, to Adam, it looked scary, like a lion smiling at him before it ate him “Michael did this to you” The doctor said Adam looked. “He’s coming here now” The doctor went on Adam shook his head. “He’s not real” Doctor Theos grinned “Oh no Adam. He is real. He’s coming to get you” Chuck emerged in that second, and Adam noticed he was sitting on the floor. There was a pounding behind his eyes, there was something very noticeably wrong with his chest. Each breathe felt like it was trying to inflate lungs that just didn’t want to expand. Adam gasped for air, Chuck came closer and made crude fish impressions with his mouth, mocking Adam’s struggle to breathe “You?” Adam gasped in horror at Chuck.

“No” Michael said “It’s me. It’s Michael. Adam what’s wrong?” Adam’s lower lip dropped. “Michael” He managed. “Shhhh” Michael reached out and placed his hands onto Adam’s face. Adam leaned slight into his hands, his eyes closing under the Archangel’s cool touch. “Your lung has collapsed” Michael said soothing “The oxygen you need is crushing you. Isn’t that poetic?” Adam opened his eyes Chuck was holding Adam’s face inches from his own “And soon, you’re going to suffocate” Adam screamed. “Stop shouting, you’re always shouting” Michael slapped him. Adam fell back. Michael started to pace the room. “When we met, you were shouting too. Michael made his voice go high pitch. “Oh Dean, help me Dean! Dean I can’t get out, the door won’t open” do you know how pathetic you looked?” Michael puffed up his wings in annoyance. His eye blazing with fury. Adam gasped for air. Pain shot through his chest; a moan escaped his lips as he clutched himself. “Imagine my embarrassment Adam, my humiliation when I returned to heaven, and it wasn’t my sword I was with. It was his weaker half brother. The one who was good for nothing save a Ghoul meal” “None of this is real” Adam gasped “You’re not real” “Oh, it’s real” Chuck said. He was laughing at Adam. Adam leaned forward, holding an arm around his ribs and the other near his neck. Gasping for air. His face was twisted with pain. The more he tried to breath in, the harder and painful it came.

“Can you remember when they left you in hell?” Chuck asked him “Did you know all the times Sam and Dean talked about you, knowing you were trapped down there. Do you remember when they took Lucifer, and just left you rotting”. Adam was shaking his head. He coughed and whimpered.

“Adam, I want to show you something” Chuck stopped and leaned down “I want to show you how little you care to Sam and Dean, look” Chuck touched Adam’s forehead and images rushed into Adam’s head.

Sam and Dean surrounded by a group of teenage girls, all dressed up. There was one girl in clothing that looked like his “Who’s that?” Sam asked Dean, they both looked confused “Oh that’s Adam… John Winchester’s other kid” Chuck leaned in “Dean also had a choice to get you out of hell, and he picked Sam over you in a second” Adam was shaking “Don’t forget Castiel” Chuck went on “He could have pulled you out of hell too. He did not, you know why? Because you don’t matter Adam. You are nothing” Adam was back in the room. Chuck was looking at him “Now look, Michael has left you too. Everybody leaves you Adam. Your father didn’t want anything to do with you for years. Your own preferred being at the hospital rather than be with you. Sam and Dean did not care for you, and now the angel you claim to love so much has left you too. You’re all alone, with me”. As Adam watched, Chuck turned bright. White light shone from him and Adam covered his eyes. It was so bad he could see it through his closed eyes. He covered his eyes but still the light wouldn’t go down. It was glory. It made his ears ring, his eyes burn. “Stop. Stop. Stop” Adam begged. It stopped as soon as it began. He was alone, in a room. It was dark and damp. The walls were cracked, there was a drip, drip, drip in the distance. A bear bulb swung over his head. This was not a hospital. Adam looked down at himself. He was wearing the same clothing he was wearing the night Michael was taken from him. Although now they were filthy, they needed washing badly and Adam needed to bath. He was so cold, the pain still very bad. He looked around, wondering where Chuck went. Wondering if he was really there. Adam held himself and cried. What was going on? What was happening to him. Somewhere nearby, a door slammed shut.

[blackholelynn]

Your Protection - Part Two

<- Read Part One

Summary: You work as a cashier in a small convenience store, and your days are completely, painfully normal. After a particularly bad run-in with a rude customer, your life gets flipped upside down, and the only one who you can count on ends up being a complete stranger – Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Cashier!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of drowning, loss/grief, rude/abusive customer interaction, swearing – these warnings are for this series of parts as a whole, so while some of these warnings may not apply on this part, they will apply for future parts

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Here's the second part! Just a warning that this part is much heavier than the last, so keep in mind the warnings above. Also, I'm now including a tag list by request for this fic, so feel free to let me know if you want added! If there's a character or fic series I'm writing that you would like tagged for, I can create a tag list upon request. Thank you so much for reading!

Tag List: @leigh70

Also cross-posted to my AO3 account, and you can read it here!

~~~

The party was definitely something else, considering that the usual house bashes that you went to had people stacked on top of people. That was definitely not the case at Adam’s party, considering that his house was huge. The vast space made it hard to find Laurie when you arrived, having to twist and turn around already drunk party-goers.

“There you are!” She slurred from behind you, putting her arms around your shoulders. “I’ve been waiting!”

You laughed at her antics and carefully took her arms off you as you turned around. “I see you wasted no time getting the party started without me.”

“Absolutely! Adam is sooo fun. I can’t believe I forgot!”

Adam appeared from within the crowd and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting a sloppy kiss on her neck. She swiftly turned her head and caught his lips when she noticed he was there. You cringed a bit at their improvised makeout session that showed no signs of stopping.

“Actually, Laurie, I think I just saw…Craig! Yeah, Craig from custodial right over there. I’ll go say hi,” you nervously fabricated, and when you slowly melted back into the throngs of the crowd, she hadn’t even noticed you left. Suddenly this party was starting to look worse and worse by the second.

Thankfully, you found the table where the drinks were being kept, and you wasted no time choosing your favorite and downing it in one fell swoop. A few people nearby hooped and hollered, but the crowd’s attention wasn’t drawn for long. Everyone around you seemed to be grouped up, and there was no one you recognized.

Maybe outside will feel a bit less…sweaty.

And it was, in a way. There weren’t nearly as many people outside, but those who were sat around the lawn attached to a partner in some way, shape, or form. Violin music could be heard in the background to bolster the romantic atmosphere, and it only served to cement the loneliness you were feeling, the loneliness that you’d been feeling for months at that point. You dug out your phone to see if a small game would ease your mind, but it was still on your contact screen when the screen unlocked.

There he was – ‘Hero Guy.’

Would it really be that big of a deal if you called him? It’s not like you would see him again, so it might be a fun little distraction. Dean didn’t seem all that bad, considering that he made sure you were safe. It was more than many other people would do, and experience had taught you that.

Before you could make up your mind, a scream rang out. Then a few more, and people started running out the doors in a frenzy. There was pushing and yelling and limbs flying everywhere. Your face scanned everyone pushing past you for Laurie, but no luck. You didn’t even think; your feet moved on their own as you went upstream against the crowd rushing out of the house, on a mission to find your friend.

“Laurie? Laurie, you there?” you called frantically as you started to go through room after room in the large house. You’d made your way to the kitchen when the sight almost made you collapse. “Laurie! Oh my god!”

Your friend laid on the white linoleum with her dark hair spread out around her. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, completely unfocused, and water spilled from her mouth and onto the ground. She’d drowned – on dry land. Everyone had fled the kitchen, leaving it empty aside from you. Even Adam, who had been so clingy before, was nowhere to be seen.

You rushed to her side, not minding that the water on the floor was soaking your legs to the bone, and pulled out your phone to call 911. You had no idea how to explain the situation and instead just opted to say that she was unresponsive.

“Ma’am, can you feel a pulse?” The operator’s voice pulled you out of the shock you had fallen into.

You hesitantly felt her wrist and then her neck for a pulse, not finding one. “No.”

“Alright. What I need you to do is CPR. Have you ever had training before?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly. Not since middle school, but training is better than no training .

The operator breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, that’s really good. I’m going to need you to start by making sure her airways are clear, and then you’ll need to start a set of thirty chest compressions. Can you do that for me?”

“I think so.” You then realized your uncertainty and steeled yourself. “Yes, I can do that.”

All the training seemed to come back at once, and you straddled Laurie to begin giving her the necessary compressions. The only thing you could think of to keep time with the chest compressions was Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees, a song that didn’t particularly feel appropriate. You counted each compression meticulously, and when you finished, you checked to see if she was breathing. Still nothing.

As you asked your next question, you were breathless, “Okay, I did 30 chest compressions. Now what?”

“Two big rescue breaths. You know how to do those?”

“Yeah.” You pinched Laurie’s nose and tilted her head back, breathing into her open mouth and watching for her chest to rise.

You knew it was only a handful of minutes, but it felt like hours as you went back and forth between chest compressions and rescue breaths as you were instructed until the paramedics arrived and quickly took your place. Suddenly the house was swarming with first responders and law enforcement, and you were left to sit on the cold, wet kitchen floor in the dress you’d worn to the party.

The adrenaline slowly lessened, and tears began to prick at your eyes. A bubbling hatred started to rise in your chest as you wondered where the hell Adam had gone and why he just left her on the ground. Why had everyone run away? Why hadn’t anyone tried to help her or call for help? She deserved more.

“Hey, are you alright?” The familiar voice made you look up, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Dean was standing right there, dressed in a suit by the counter, and he seemed to see your confusion. “I forgot to mention that we’re FBI, I guess.”

“You guess? Yeah, it might’ve helped.” You hurriedly wiped away your tears with the back of your palm before standing up, trying to smooth out your tattered and soaked dress. Why it mattered, you weren’t sure. “What is the FBI doing here? This just happened.”

“We heard it on the scanner, and it’s related to the case we’re working on.”

“Which is?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss it,” Dean said, and it was clear that was the only answer you would be getting.

But you weren’t just going to accept that, not after everything you’d just gone through. “I just had to perform CPR on my best friend who drowned in a kitchen. I think I have the right to know!”

That seemed to strike a chord with the tall man he’d come to the store with, a man you realized was his partner and fellow agent. He looked over at Dean with a pleading stare but still didn’t get much headway with it. Dean was stubborn; you could tell that much.

“You can help us by telling us what you know. Did you see anything out of the ordinary?” Dean fished out a small notebook from his pocket and a pen, but you could tell it was a pretense. The notebook looked brand new, so there was no way he used it frequently.

“Look, I was outside when this all happened. I just ran in here because I heard screaming.”

“You heard screaming and ran towards it?”

It sounds stupid when you put it that way . “Yeah, I did. The only other thing I could tell you was that she was with Adam DiMarco the last I saw her. He’s the guy who threw the party in the first place.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anything strange? No flickering lights, no cold spots, no sulfur smells?”

“No.” You cocked your head, not understanding how any of that mattered. It didn’t even seem tangentially related to what you’d just witnessed. “And those things point to…?”

Dean’s partner eagerly put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and steered him towards the door, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry, he’s just a bit of a conspiracy nut. We’ll keep in touch.”

With that, they quickly left the kitchen, and you were swarmed by other law enforcement who were asking even more questions. Almost all of them were ones that you couldn’t answer because despite Laurie being your best friend, you talked extremely infrequently outside of work. What you did talk about had nothing to do with her personal life, and you couldn’t even tell them who they should contact as family.

Hours passed of questioning before they finally let you leave the scene, and the only saving grace was that one of the newer officers offered you a ride to the hospital to check on Laurie. He escorted you inside and explained the situation to the receptionist, who led you to a room.

You looked around the empty room, saw the snacks and water cart in the corner, and became confused. “I’m sorry, but I thought you were taking me to see Laurie?”

“I’ll be right back. The doctor just needs to talk to you for a moment first,” she said, turning to leave. The expression she wore landed somewhere between pity and guilt, and it caused a nervous knot to form in your stomach. That just left you to sit down in one of the unsettling comfy chairs, hoping that the disgusting nature of your clothes wouldn’t ruin the upholstery.

You stared at the cart beside you and debated taking something to eat. You hadn’t eaten since before you started your shift this morning, but a small piece of you knew that your stomach would only feel worse if you tried to eat. It felt paralyzing to sit in there alone, not knowing what had happened. Just this evening, you talked to her on the phone and saw her having fun with Adam.

When the door opened, you immediately looked up at the doctor, who wore a sullen expression. “Hello. You’re Ms. Hamilton’s friend?”

“Yes,” you said, fully introducing yourself. “Were you able to get a hold of her parents or anyone? Did you let them know what happened?” You were now standing. All the nervous energy was too much to hold while sitting down. The nail on your thumb was hanging on for dear life with how much you were picking at it.

“She doesn’t have any emergency contacts listed. You’re the closest thing we have right now to her family.”

The doctor’s words struck you hard. “Then where is she? Is she alright? What happened?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Laurie didn’t make it. The paramedics couldn’t resuscitate her, and the ER tried to defibrillate and intubate, but we couldn’t save her. I’m so sorry.”

It felt like the world had been ripped out from under you, and suddenly nothing made sense. How was she dead? You’d seen her having fun and making out with Adam not a few hours before, and you’d tried everything after you found her. It felt like a stone was suddenly sitting on your chest, and bile rose to your throat. You began to sob and curled onto one of the chairs in the room, not even registering the doctor’s firm but gentle hand on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you had stayed there crying, but after you managed to calm down enough to speak, you croaked out, “Can I see her?”

“Yes,” the doctor answered solemnly. You followed close behind as you were led through the sanitary walls of the hospital, and as you reached the room, the doctor stopped just short of the door. “She’s just through there. Would you like me to come in with you, or would you prefer to be alone?”

“Alone,” you answered. Your hand trembled as you opened the door, and no matter what you thought you were preparing yourself for, it was nothing close to the real thing.

Laurie lay unmoving on the bed. The intubation tube was still down her throat despite not being attached to anything else, and her hair fell limply on the thin hospital pillow. The pallor of her skin made it clear what fate had dealt her; she was dead.

Your cries fell on deaf ears as you reached out to hold her cold hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Laurie.”

You stayed by her side for as long as the doctor and the hospital staff allowed you, quietly muttering apologies to Laurie. It didn’t matter whether she could hear them or not. The time seemed to freeze inside the room, where the only sign that everyone else’s life kept moving was the sound of the hospital bustling outside.

Eventually, the doctor ushered you back out of the room, and the officer that escorted you to the hospital drove you home. You were thankful that it was the middle of the night so that you wouldn’t have to explain why you were driven home in a squad car to anybody else in your apartment building. Your legs and feet screamed in pain as you ascended the steps to your apartment, and by the time you unlocked the door, it was all you could do not to immediately fall onto the couch despite your wet clothes.

After changing into pajamas and curling under a blanket on your couch, you couldn’t help but still be perturbed by Dean’s questions from earlier. Flickering lights? Cold spots? Sulfur? It all sounded like something out of a bad B-movie that ripped off The Conjuring. Your curiosity was practically eating at you, and it seemed like a good enough distraction to keep you from spiraling from the grief.

You pulled your laptop off of your small coffee table and into your lap, and your fingers typed in a flurry across the keys as you frantically searched google. The results were an assortment of different home improvement blogs telling you how you would fix issues of that nature, but you knew that wasn’t what you were looking for.

It wasn’t until some deep scouring that you found something that seemed related, though not promising. “Jesus–” you muttered to yourself as you scrolled through the webpage in question. The word ‘Ghostfacers’ was splattered at the top with a skull as the O. The entire page was an eyesore, but the video playing showed two men explaining the existence of ghosts and how to stop them.

Is this what he meant when he called Dean a conspiracy theorist? He watches this shit?

However, you weren’t one to talk, as you couldn’t pull yourself away from the screen. Was it weird? Yes. Stupid? Absolutely. But entertaining? Undeniably. You huddled into your blanket the rest of the night and watched those two idiots, Harry and Ed, explain the inner workings of a world you didn’t believe in.

When you finally dragged your weary eyes away, you realized you’d stayed up the whole night, and it was only a few hours before your next shift. You groaned and leaned against the couch cushion, deciding that you were definitely not going in today. Without the distraction of the Ghost Facers, the cold grip of grief wrapped itself around you again, and the idea of working through that while having customers berate you was disheartening, at the least.

Your manager was pissed and tried to talk you into coming in for your shift, but it was no use. You tossed your phone onto the couch beside you after hanging up and flopped down further into the cushions. Watching more Ghostfacers suddenly seemed like a chore you didn’t want to finish, but you didn’t want to just vedge on the couch and do nothing. You got ready and left your apartment to head towards the library in a burst of motivation.

~~~

Continue on to Part Three ->

[moxleysreigns]

Slumber Party

Characters : Becky Lynch / Seth Rollins / OFC

Summary : A girls night slumber party turned threesome

Warnings : Graphic sexual content, rough sex, threesome, cursing, mention of blood, daddy kink

Word Count : 3,978 ( I got a little carried away lmao)

Notes : I haven't wrote fanfic in years so bare with me on this. Partly inspired by Slumber Party by Ashnikko

You and Becky have always been close to put it lightly. Both of you met at NXT and went through the ranks together, eventually ending up on RAW. One drunken night back in NXT, you two hooked up, turning it into a regular occurrence from then on.

Neither of you told anyone until Becky’s current boyfriend, Seth came along. Seth could see the tension between you two, he finally worked up the courage to ask. Becky of course, spilled the secret immediately.

From then on Seth was always weird around you. It was more of a “you’ve hooked up with my girlfriend and that’s hot but, I’m too shy to ask for more details” way. Becky eventually told you.

After learning that information you quickly put it to use, teasing Seth anytime you could. You would never do anything to jeopardize your friendships with them or their relationship but nonetheless, it was fun to watch him squirm.

Since NXT, every Friday night was “girls night” for you and Becky. You would drink some wine, watch movies, and hang out together, eventually passing out. Seth always took those evenings to hang out with Dean and Roman. “Poker night with the boys.” is what he always said with a few 6-packs in hand.

This Friday was the same. You pulled up to Becky and Seth’s house, walking up the stairs fixing your leggings on the way. You stopped at the door with a knock and immediately, Becky pulled you into a hug. “Woah Becks, watch the shoulder, you got me good sparring today.” You said, with a wince. Becky pulled back smiling.

“My bad Y/N, I guess I got a little carried away.” she responded with a laugh. “I still have to finish getting ready, I'll be out in a minute.” She ushered you into the living room and you sat down next to Seth.

“What are you still doing here Seth, did Roman & Dean cancel on ya?” You asked. He sent you an angry look followed by some type of complaining under his breath you couldn't make out before averting his attention back to the football game on the tv.

“I’ll take that as a yes."

Becky came out of the bedroom in a pair of black leggings and your merch that she had turned into a crop top. “Damn, babe, you look good.” Seth said looking up from his game.

“You know I have to agree, my name looks real good across your chest.” You added on with a wink. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Seth shift on the couch and you couldn’t help but giggle. You stood up, strolling over to Becky grabbing her by the hand.

“Well, since Sethie here got cancelled on we can go have a girls night at my place. You are my girlfriend for the night anyways, I want your undivided attention!” You said planting a kiss onto Becky’s cheek making her blush. Seth sighed into the couch “And here I thought I could crash girls night this time.”

“Absolutely not. Becky replied

“This is the one night I get away from you.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how adamant she was about it.

“Shut it Y/N don’t make me power bomb you through the kitchen table.” Seth responded as he pouted.

After listening to Seth and Becky bicker back and forth for a few minutes she grabbed your hand. “Let’s go Y/N.” Becky said, pulling you towards the door. Seth sat up grumbling how it wasn’t fair that you were stealing his girlfriend for the night.

You looked at Becky with a smirk and she dropped your hand knowing what you were about to do. You walked over to Seth who was now standing, grabbing him by back of his neck and whispering in his ear “Me and your girlfriend playing dress up at my house, I give your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Becky laughed as Seth’s eye went wide at your words. You leaned back smiling giving Seth a wink as you grabbed Becky’s hand and walked out the door.

“What did you say to him? He looked like he saw a ghost!” Becky asked walking down the stairs.

“Just something to get him to shut up.” You replied getting into the car.

“Now let’s go get some wine.” Becky's eyes lit up at your words and you were off.

Seth stood in shock at your words watching you two walk out the house laughing. After a few minutes he sat down trying to get back into his football game.

He had to admit, he always thought you were attractive and the thought of you and Becky sleeping together was incredibly hot. He knew you liked to tease him about it but he couldn’t get his mind off of what you said.

It had been about 30 minutes when Seth finally decided to do something about it, grabbing his keys and sprinting off to his car on the way to your apartment.

Becky and you were laying in your bed, halfway through your bottle of wine watching “The Notebook” when Becky got a facetime.

“Who is it?” You asked finishing the last of the wine in your glass. Becky rolled her eyes and showed you the phone with the name “Sethie Poo” on the screen.

“SETHIE POO?!” You yelled

“That has to be the worst nickname I have ever heard.” You said grabbing the phone from her and answering it.

“What do you want Sethie poo?” You asked, still laughing. Seth's eyes widened at the nickname before asking what you two were doing.

“We’re drinking wine and watching movies, like we always do.” You responded.

“Well I'm coming to join you.” he replied quickly.

“It’s an all girl party.”

“Clothing optional.” Becky added which sent you into a fit of laughter.

She had never really joined in on the teasing you did to Seth. You saw Seth’s cheeks go red before he quickly hung up the phone. Throwing Becky’s cell back to her.

“Well that got rid of him.” She looked at you laughing. Everything was going great until you heard a knock 5 minutes later.

“You gotta be shitting me.” You both said in unison.

Seth was standing at your door with his hands in his pockets. You opened the door to see him swaying back and forth.

“You owe me $10!” you yelled back to Becky in the bedroom hearing her giggling.

“Yes Mr. Rollins, how can I help you, I’m kinda busy with OUR girlfriend.” You said with your hands on your hips making sure to emphasize the our.

"I got lonely at the house by myself. I brought a present, though.” he responded gesturing down to the bottles of wine sitting at his feet.

“You know the way to a girl's heart.” you replied, moving out of the way to let him inside.

“Put one of the bottles in the fridge, grab a glass and meet us in the bedroom.” you yelled to him walking back into the bedroom sitting next to Becky. Seth came in a few minutes later telling you to scoot over. He sat on the bed getting comfortable, uncorking the wine and filling everyone’s glasses.

“So what are we watching? The Notebook really?” Seth said trying to grab the remote from in between you and Becky.

“Uh-huh, no way! You came and crashed our girls night, you get to watch what we want.” Becky said swatting his hand away from the remote.

Seth grabbed his hand dramatically spouting off about how he couldn’t believe his loving girlfriend would hit him and how hurt his heart now is. You rolled your eyes.

“Both of you shut up and watch the movie.” You responded nudging them both.

By the time the end credits were rolling the three of you had gone through 2 1/2 bottles of wine. Becky was curled into your side asleep as you played with her hair. Seth sat up seeing Becky cuddling you got on his nerves, he sighed.

”You know, you could wait until I leave to get all cuddly with MY girlfriend. He spat a little angrier than he intended it to be. You sighed sitting up as Becky shifted with you.

“You came in, crashed our girls night, and then get upset when Becky cuddles into me. Need I remind you she was my girlfriend first?” You retorted smirking.

Seth leaned into your ear and your breathing hitched. “You may have been her girlfriend first, but who gets to fuck her every night Y/N?”

He leaned over, pleased with the look on your face, grabbing the remote and turning on a different movie. “You may fuck her every night Seth, but I bet you I eat her better than you ever could.”

You saw the look of anger in Seth's eyes knowing you pushed the right button to get under his skin. "Why don’t you wake her up and ask her, I would love to hear her response.”

Before you could say anything Becky sat up rubbing her eyes. “If you two don’t stop arguing about me I’m gonna just have to fuck you both.” Both yours and Seth’s eyes went wide at the statement.

"I- uh what babe?” Seth responded after a few seconds. You were so dumbfounded you couldn't even think of a response. Becky scooted in between you two quickly.

"I said, if you two don't start arguing about me I'm gonna have to fuck you both." Beck retorted as she leaned in to kiss Seth.

"Alright Becks, I love you but you're drunk right now. Let's call it a night okay? I can call you guys an uber." You responded reaching for your phone. Becky quickly swatted it out of your hand.

"Y/N, you're telling me you haven't thought about fucking me again? it has been a while you know." Becky said, pulling you into a kiss. You had to admit that you did miss sleeping with her, you thought about it often in all honesty.

You didn't even have time to respond before she was pulling on your shirt begging you to take it off. Seth watched in amazement as you broke the kiss and quickly discarded it, realizing you weren't wearing a bra underneath.

Becky pulled Seth into her grabbing his hand and putting it onto your breast. You gasped into Becky's mouth at the sudden contact. Seth tweaked on your hard nipple while Becky trailed her hand down your stomach and into your black leggings. Slipping a finger in between your already dripping folds you bucked your hips quickly begging to be touched by her like old times.

“Please Becks.” were the only words you could muster as she took your leggings and underwear off. Leaving yourself completely vulnerable in front of your two best friends.

Becky leaned back pulling Seth into a kiss as she smacked the inside of your right thigh. You yelped in response, Becky taking that as a sign to go forward. She quickly used her finger dipping into your dripping core and curling to find your g-spot. Your back arched as you watch Becky and Seth in a heated make out session.

Seth broke the kiss looking at you a writhing mess just from one finger of his girlfriend. Seth took his thumb putting pressure, rubbing harsh circles on your clit. You quickly felt your orgasm building. The bundle of fire in your stomach begging to be let go.

“Seth- Becks- please I’m gonna...” was all you could say before you were cumming hard, screaming both of their names. It took you a second to catch your breath. You looked up to see Seth sucking on Becky’s fingers. He pulled you into a kiss letting you taste yourself.

"You two have too much clothes on." you said realizing you were completely naked in front of your two very clothed friends. Becky and Seth laughed immediately ripping off their clothes.

Once they were both completely underdressed you got up, pushing Seth onto his back. You pulled Becky into a kiss, your hands traveling down her body.

You have always been mesmerized by Becky's body, every curve, every freckle, the way she moved underneath you. She has, and will always be your favorite addiction.

"I've missed you so much!" you said as she pulled away from the kiss

"I've missed you even more baby girl." You were both so enthralled by each other you completely forgot Seth was laying underneath you two watching with lust in his eyes.

Both of your attention quickly turned to Seth. The whine he let out as you stroked his hard cock was like music to your ears. Slowly stroking his dick as Becky sucked on his balls sent him into a frenzy, he was writhing underneath you both begging to be touched.

"Please , blow me Y/N, please baby I need it so bad".

Feeling like he had begged enough you quickly took him into your mouth, relaxing your throat letting him hit the back of it. You deep throated his cock, giving his balls little kitten licks as you bobbed your head up and down. Becky pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail as she praised you for how well you're sucking her man's cock.

"You look so pretty taking his dick baby girl, show him how good that tongue is"

You moaned around Seth making his hips buck. Becky quickly pushed his hips back down before bending down to kiss him. Your hand reached up to smack her ass and she moaned into Seth's mouth. She pulled you off of her boyfriend with a POP and devoured you into a kiss begging to taste her man on your tongue.

While Becky was distracted by your kiss you slipped a finger in between her folds teasing her. Her hips moved with your hand, her sensitive nub begging to be touched.

"Please baby girl, please touch me. Don't make me beg." You pushed Becky down onto the bed, her back hitting the spot right next to Seth. Kissing her again, you trailed your hands up her body, feeling her shiver just from this small touch.

Moving to the nape of her neck you placed small hickeys there marking her as your own. Seth took this time to move to the other side of her, leaving identical marks on the opposite side of Becky's neck. The two of you were fighting for dominance over her. Becky loving every second of it. The thought of her boyfriend and ex-lover fighting over who got to touch her made her melt.

Seth quickly moved down Becky's body, leaving open mouth kisses on every part of her skin. He found her breasts taking one into his mouth while you took the other. Becky was so close to her orgasm already, thrashing in the bed as you both sucked on her perky nipples. Leaving more hickeys on her chest, down her stomach. Nipping at the skin on her hips as Seth got in between her legs.

Peppering small kisses on Becky's thighs, Seth knew all the right buttons to push on Becky, slowly pushing her over the edge to beg for what she needed most. Seth licked a long stripe up Becky's core stopping to suck on her clit gently.

"Please daddy, please give me what i need. Eat me out baby please" Becky gasped out begging enough to make Seth smirk. In seconds, he was devouring Becky, one finger inserting into her dripping cunt, curling slightly to find the spot that would make her scream.

You watched closely as Seth ate Becky out, playing with yourself letting small moans out as your finger dipped into your pussy, teasing yourself. Becky pulled you up above her head. Getting the hint quickly you sat on Becky's face. Nibbling onto your clit gently sending chills down your spine as you rode her tongue gracefully. The sounds of moans and faint curses filling the room quickly.

You looked down to see Seth lining himself up with Becky's entrance. You bent over to lick on her clit as he pushed in slowly, hissing at how tight she was. Seth pulled you up by your hair, kissing you hungrily.

"You're gonna watch me fuck your girl, once she cums all over my dick you're gonna lick it up. Do you understand me?" Seth asked you as he yanked your head back by your hair, biting into your neck hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes Seth, I understand" As soon as you finished your sentence he pulled you back into a kiss, both of you moaning into it.

Seth grabbed your neck choking you, "You call me Daddy in bed baby girl." He said as he let you go, watching you gasp to fill your lungs with air.

Becky was still having her way with your dripping cunt as you ground against her mouth begging for more contact. Becky stuck her tongue out, letting you ride her face as you pleased. You quickened your pace, knowing you were about to cum all over her mouth. She quickly stuck two fingers into you, immediately finding your g spot. Thinking you couldn't be stimulated anymore was a mistake, you felt Seth taking your right nipple into his mouth sucking hard and biting gently.

Soon enough you were in the clouds, your orgasm washing over you as you fell forward onto Becky's body. Your body spasming as she continued to lick your core, helping you ride through your orgasm.

Seth pulled you off of Becky's face flipping the two of them over. Becky pulled you into her as she bounced on Seth's cock. Twisting her nipples gently sending ripples of pleasure through her entire body. With one hand still working her nipples, the other dancing down her body finding her clit rubbing harsh circles. Becky was a mess in front of you, clawing at Seth's chest which made him whine, bucking his hips into her. With each thrust Seth was hitting her g-spot. It didn't take long before Becky was seeing stars.

She began grinding down on Seth as she rode out her orgasm. Her head lulled back onto your shoulders as she came down from her high. Kissing you softly, cupping your face with both hands. Grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking he whispered in your ear.

"You remember what daddy said right? Get down there and suck the cum off of his cock." Biting at your earlobe sending chills throughout your body.

Your hair was yanked into a makeshift ponytail again as you lowered your mouth onto Seth's throbbing cock. Swirling your tongue around his tip before taking all of him into your mouth. Hollowing out your cheeks you sucked hard, cleaning all of Becky's cum off of Seth's dick. Seth bucked his hips into your face as you went down farther. As soon as he felt you relax your throat his hands overtook the ponytail Becky had your hair in. He used your hair to help guide you, bobbing your head quickly. Sliding your tongue over his head every time you came up.

Seth finally pulled you off of him, your eyes watering and spit soaking your lips connecting to the tip of his dick. You hadn't realized Becky was behind you until you felt a smack on your ass. Arching your back into the slap you felt another come down on the other cheek.

"You look so pretty gagging on his dick, do you know that Y/N?" Becky asked, sliding a finger over your cunt. You whined in response. Plunging two fingers into you quickly Becky felt you squeeze around her.

"You're close already aren't you baby, I can feel you clenching around me. Can you take another finger? I know you can. Breathe for me baby girl." All you could do was nod quickly, pushing back onto Becky's fingers, your body practically begging for more.

Taking Seth's dick back into your mouth you bobbed your head furiously. A hand coming up to play with his balls almost sending him over the edge.

"You better stop, before I cum in the pretty little mouth of yours." Seth growled, "I wanna fuck that tight pussy before I do" Yanking your head back again biting at your chin leaving a mark that will definitely be seen in the morning.

"Hands and knees now." Becky whispered as she pulled her fingers out of your pussy. You obeyed getting on your knees with your stomach against the bed. You wiggled your butt hearing both Becky and Seth groan at the sight.

Seth thrusted hard into you, giving no time to adjust as you screamed in pleasure. Your eyes tearing up from all the stimulation of the night. Feeling the bed dip behind you, you realized Becky was now underneath your body. Sucking on Seth's balls as he fucked into you. You could feel Becky's mouth inching up to your clit reaching down and pulling on her hair.

Becky smirked as she was kissing your thigh. "Be patient baby girl, or I'll make Daddy stop and you won't cum again."

"I'll be good I promise just please, please eat me while Daddy fucks me." Both Becky and Seth growled at your words. Seth's speed picking up as Becky worked her tongue on your clit. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't see straight. Pleasure was completely taking over your body. Burying your face into the mattress to stifle your screams.

"Don't you fucking dare keep quiet baby." Seth practically yelled as he smacked your ass. "I wanna hear how good you're feeling right now." Seth pulled you up to his chest, making you look down as you watched Becky eat you out.

You could feel the pressure building in your stomach, your orgasm was coming any second. "Please, Please I'm gonna cum!" You said in between moans. Your body tensing up as you were pushed back onto the bed.

"Cum on this dick now!" Seth said as his hand came down on your ass, instantly sending you over the edge. Everything went black as your third orgasm of the night completely took over your senses. A string of moans and curses falling from your lips.

After coming back you realize Seth's thrusts are getting sloppy. He's so close to cumming, your orgasm almost sending him over the edge. His thrusts becoming faster, harder, his cock begging to release.

"Both of you on your knees now." Seth barked the order at both of you before pulling out of your sensitive core. You and Becky were on your knees as quick as possible, tongues out waiting for Seth's seed to release into your mouths.

You took his dick into your hand, pumping fast as a string of profanities left Seth's lips. His hips thrusting into your hand. Seth's cock was throbbing.

Spurts of cum were going into both yours and Becky's mouth. Both of you holding him up, his orgasm taking everything out of him. Becky and you swallowed at the same time as Seth sat down on the bed kissing Becky and then you.

Falling onto the bed you feel Becky curl into you, her hand resting on your hip as she nuzzled into your neck. Seth spooned into the back of her. All of your bodies molding together like they were made for each other.

As you were drifting off to sleep you heard Seth chuckle. "I might crash girls night more often." He said kissing Becky on the head and reaching to take your hand. Kissing his knuckles and smiling. "I think I'd like that, what about you Becks?"

The only response you got from Becky was soft snoring. Both you and Seth looked at her and giggled before drifting off to sleep yourselves.

[flamencodiva]

Bottom of the Bottle 2 - Sneaking Back on Stage

Description: Dean was at the peak of stardom until his world came crashing down. Can he find his way back to the top?

Word Count: 5340

Warnings for entire series: Smut (oral female and male receiving, P in V, Threesomes, Fingering, Orgies) Fluff, Angst, Violence, Language, Mentions of Drug use, Drinking, Mentions of Death.

Songs in this chapter: Partial Lyrics of Brother's Osbourn Ain't My Fault and Full lyrics of Down don't Bother Me by The Derek Truck Band

Beta'd by: @wonder-cole

Aesthetic by: @firefly-graphics

Dividers by: @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<< Chapter 1

Dean pulled the bike up on the driveway and parked her next to his father’s truck. Then, killing the engine, he hopped off with a smile. Finally, Dean found a place where he could start over, a place he could play and live again. He found a small spring in his step and ran his fingers through his short hair. He was glad it was quick. His years with Purgatory had the band growing out his hair long. He hated it, but it was for the image. At the time, he would do anything just to be able to be involved in music and if growing his hair long was the worst of it, it was worth it to him.

But the minute that he was put in jail and kicked out of the band for something he didn’t do, he was glad to be rid of it. He was happy to cut off the long hair and return to his short locks. Turning the key to unlock the door, he let himself in to find his father sitting at the dining room table, hands folded on top of it.

“You could have gone to bed, you know,” Dean muttered as he placed the helmet on the table in the foyer and shrugged off his jacket to put it on the hook, “I told you I was going to be back.”

“Where did you go?” John asked as he looked up at Dean.

“Out,” Dean huffed, “I’m not a kid anymore, dad. So I went out, the bike had a wire come loose, I was close to a place, got help, came back.”

“You can’t do that again, Dean,” John said as he got up from the table.

“Do what? Go out and have fun? Go out and try to find some friends?” Dean asked, “I’m confused as to what you want from me here. I’m already working at the garage. I’m living under your thumb. I have a damn motorcycle instead of Baby.”

“I just wanted you to think before you went out,” John said as he walked to Dean, “I know you love to sing, and you love music, but it isn’t everything.”

“It’s all I have!” Dean practically yelled. “You know you started spewing all this bullshit about how I abandoned this family and ran away and couldn’t wait to leave,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “I wanted to go out and explore and find myself. You want to know the fucked up thing?” he walked up to his father, “I came back when Sam called me about mom. Not you,” he poked at John’s chest, “Sam, he called me to tell me mom was sick. You were the coward who couldn’t even face me to tell me my mother was dying!”

“Would you have answered the phone if it was me?” John muttered. “You have to admit, the minute you signed that contract, you wanted to high tail it out of here faster than a damn wolf chasing its prey.”

Dean looked down at the floor and licked his lips, “I wanted to get away from you. Not mom, not Sam, you. Because I was so mad and disappointed that my own father didn’t want me to follow something I was good at, something that gave me life.” Dean walked over to a picture of his mother and let his fingers graze over it, “I came every chance I could. I was in that hospital by her side when you didn't know it. I always waited for you and Sam to leave because I didn’t want to fight you while she was fighting Cancer.”

Dean wiped the stray tear that was falling down his cheek and shook his head.

“But it doesn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not that money I gave for the treatments or the fact that I tried to get Mom one of the best specialists I could find.” he turned to face his dad. “Music is in me, and I can feel it. What hurt me wasn’t mom dying. It was the fact that my own father thought of me as a disappointment when I made it big.”

John let his son’s words sink in before heading to the stairs, “A lot of good that fame and fortune did. You became part of a group that, in the end, it brought you back down to zero.” John was halfway up the stairs before he stopped, “you called me a coward for not calling you, but you’re a coward for not manning up to face me at that hospital.”

John’s footsteps began to fade as he ascended the staircase and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Dean to stew in his anger. Dean let out a frustrated growl with his jaw clenched and stomped up the stairs towards his old room. Why was his dad so adamant about keeping him locked up in a cage? He was already in a cell for six months, and he hated every minute of it. Apart from the fact that he could write a few lyrics, he hated being in that damn jail. He didn’t do anything wrong, and everyone tried to fight him for being a damn rock star.

Entering his room, he could see the boxes from his old home scattered around. Some boxes labeled clothing, some marked notebooks, and a few just miscellaneous. Walking to the box labeled notebooks, Dean tore the tape out and pulled out one of his more recently used ones. His fingers grazed over the pages before he turned to his bag full of his things from jail. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small booklet he had filled with some lyrics he had.

Dean didn’t go to bed right away that night. Instead, he took that time to filter through the small notebook and transferred his lyrics to his larger notebook. The memory of Y/N on stage seemed to haunt him. She looked at peace being up on that stage, almost ethereal, an angel ready to spread her wings and fly. Putting down his pen, his eyes roamed his room before settling on the silhouette of his guitar case. Sure, Dean had plenty of guitars, but this one, this one was special, and he was surprised to see it propped up in the familiar corner of his room.

Getting up from his chair, he walked over towards it, pulled the hard case out, and placed it on his bed. Opening up the latches, he lifted the lid and smiled. There nestled nice and snug was a Fender FA-100 Dreadnought Acoustic Guitar. He loved this guitar and hadn't been able to play it for years. He felt almost sad that he had it with him but could never really pull it out to play often. It was a birthday gift for his 17th birthday from his mother. Sure, she said it was from both her and his father, but Dean had a feeling it was more his mother than his old man.

Gently pulling it out of the case, Dean sat on his bed and placed the guitar on his right thigh, the fingers on his left hand holding down a chord on the fret before he strummed it. He winced at the awful sound that came out. It needed tuning. He looked around his room using the tiny light from his desk lamp and smiled when his eyes landed on the corkboard above his headboard. There, pinned to it, was his favorite pick. It was one of the few things his father did give him that he loved, a pick that he had seen in the music store that he had to have.

Taking a deep breath, Dean began to pluck at the strings and turn on the knobs to find the right notes. There was something about the way he felt holding his guitar that sent a shiver down his spine. Dean missed this feeling, and he kicked himself for letting the image geniuses at the label dictate that he should only be the voice of the band. Focusing on his tuning, he continued to play with the knobs until he was sure the guitar had the right notes to play.

With one last strum, he hummed in satisfaction at the sweet sound. He moved his fingers along the fret, strumming at the strings when a melody came to mind. He wasn't sure of the tempo, but he knew the notes he wanted to play. Adjusting himself and the guitar, he cleared his throat and let the music flow through him.

“Blame the whiskey on the beer, blame the beer on the whiskey,” he let out and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he chuckled before grabbing his notebook and scribbling it down.

He continued to find the melody, and he figured a slow rhythm was a good fit for the song. At least that’s what he felt.

“Blame the bar for the band, blame the band for the--” he paused as he tried to find the right word, “song? Yeah, that works,” he wrote it down and shook his head gently.

His mind began to fill with doubt as he looked down at the lyrics. Was he really going to try to get back into music? Could he really deal with being a label stooge? He wanted to make music, sure, but it needed to be his music.

“You got this, Winchester,” he calmed himself, “You’ve been playing music for a long time. This is a good song.” he licked his lips and looked down at his fingers, “you had these lyrics in your head for a while, you just gotta get them out.

He continued to strum on his guitar and progressed as much as he could. He had gotten to the first round of the bridge before yawning. But, looking over at the clock, it was well past two in the morning, and he had to try to get as much sleep as he could.

The following day, Dean woke up to his father banging on his door.

“Wake up,” John called through the door, “I’m headed to the garage. You should head out soon. Coffee is already brewed.”

Dean let out a groan and ran a hand across his face to try and wake up fully. He stretched his body before forcing himself to get up. Dean looked at the open notebook on the floor and sighed. He had to finish the lyrics and try to memorize the song by tonight if he wanted to show Benny up. He didn’t like that Benny thought he would use Y/N for his own personal gain. That wasn’t in Dean’s nature at all. Besides, if the song was a hit, he could perform the other songs he had lying around, but he had to find a way to hide it from his dad.

Walking to his window, he looked outside and sighed. The sun was just rising, and he could hear the birds chirping on the nearby tree. Opening the window, he leaned on the windowsill when something caught his peripheral vision. He turned his head slightly to see the trellis that ran up the side of the house by his window. Reaching over, he pulled on it and gave a pouted shrug.

“Still feels sturdy,” he muttered to himself before looking down and feeling his pulse race. “You can do this,” he said, looking at the height, “you did it back in high school to go sneak over to ‘easy’ Gracie's house.” he reminded himself. “That and all of Mullet’s parties to play a gig.”

With a nod, he began formulating his plan. He spared no time in grabbing his clothes and getting dressed. His notebook was tight under the crook of his arm as he made his way downstairs to grab a coffee. His father had already left, leaving him alone. With a coffee mug in his hand, he used his free hand to write out the rest of his lyrics before looking at the time and dashing towards the front door. He made sure he kept the notebook close to him as he got ready for his bike ride to the garage.

He kept to himself as he placed certain things in his locker before grabbing his coveralls and put them on over his clothes. Then, his notebook in hand, he walked over to the work orders board and picked a clipboard to work on for the day. In between changing the oil on a few cars, replacing brake pads, and rotating tires, Dean had finished writing and found himself memorizing the lyrics he wrote out.

“I got my hand’s up. I need an alibi,” Dean muttered, “find me a witness who can testify.”

The melody was slow and funeral-like, and for the most part, it worked. What mattered to him right now was memorizing the damn words so he could get them out. He was sure the melody would change later, as he kept bouncing from uptempo to slow funeral march. It was hard trying to find a good beat, but he wasn’t sure what direction he was going. Was he going to stick to the complex rock rhythm he got used to with purgatory? Or was he going to go to his country roots?

He didn’t notice his father looking at him closely, the sad look on John's face as he recognized that Dean was writing lyrics. The old man could always tell when Dean was working on a song. Dean could never sit still when he was inspired, and the fact that Dean kept tapping different rhythms during the day wasn’t helping him hide it. But John was out of ideas, and the last thing he needed was to find his son on the news where they were announcing his death. It was bad enough seeing his son being arrested on the news, but to have his death broadcasted would absolutely shatter him. John had tried so hard to shelter Dean from getting the performance bug, but it seemed like the tighter John held on, the more Dean slipped through his fingers.

The rest of the day, Dean had played with a few different melodies in his head, but nothing seemed to stick. By the time he had memorized the song, it was time to close the garage. Dean had put his coverall back in his locker and walked over to his bike.

“Dean?” John called.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, turning to face his father.

“What do you think about heading over to the diner we always used to go to for dinner?”

Dean looked at his watch and then back up to his Dad. He still had some time to head home and grab his guitar and sneak out, “yeah, sounds good. Need to have that famous burger of theirs. I missed it when I was up in KC,” Dean said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” John nodded his head as he let Dean go before him, “I gotta lock up, so you go ahead and see if they can get us in a booth.”

“Sure,” Dean called out before putting his helmet on and zipping up his jacket.

The ride to the dinner wasn’t too bad. It was short. To begin with and Dean made it with perfect time to grab the last available booth. Dean ordered a burger for himself along with a beer and a slice of pie for after. The waitress was about to leave when John appeared and slid in.

“I’ll have the meatloaf and a water, Jenny, thanks,” he said to the young waitress.

“You got it, John, coming right up,” she smiled at the elder Winchester before turning to Dean and winking, “I get off at 8.”

Dean offered her a smile before turning to his father, “you come here a lot then?”

“Haven’t really cooked since your mother died,” John muttered as he looked at Dean. “You did good work today,” he changed the subject, “I was thinking about showing you how to run the books and showing you all the accounts, you know, get you ready to take over.”

“Dad--” Dean sighed, “I love working at the garage, I do, but it won’t make me happy.”

“Because music makes you happy,” John scoffed, “look what music did to you!” he pointed out.

“You know as well as I do that it was the industry, not the music. Those are two different things!” Dean argued.

John shook his head before running a hand across his face, “look, you need a backup, and I need someone I can trust to take over.”

“You planning on retiring soon?” Dean let out as he leaned back in his seat.

“Maybe,” John sighed, “I can’t run the garage forever, and I don’t want to sell it.”

Dean looked at his father’s face and could see the hurt in his eyes, “you really love that garage.”

“It’s my second love to my family,” John said as he folded his hands together over the table. “Just think about it?”

“I guess I can do that,” Dean muttered as their waitress, Jenny, came by with their food.

“You know she’s single,” John commented as he grabbed his fork to dig into his meatloaf.

“I don’t need dating help,” Dean let out as he grabbed his burger in his hands, “besides, I’m not looking for attachments.”

“Sometimes they’re a good thing, though,” his father commented after swallowing his food.

Dean rolled his eyes, “after the fiasco with Lisa, no thanks.”

“You’ll find someone,” John chuckled, “I don’t think I ever met Lisa.”

“Thank your lucky stars for that,” Dean huffed. “All she cared about was the fame and notoriety. Then I caught her with some publicist screwing in my bed,” he shook his head, “then again, I was nailing two, maybe three girls at a time so… no skin off my back when I cut her loose.”

John stayed silent for a minute, digesting what his son was saying, “so you went for the sex god approach then.”

“Better than being the drug addict,” Dean shook his head and took a bite of one of his fries, “the alcohol helped to just dull the senses anyways. I was a pretty face and a voice for the band, that’s it.”

John could hear the unhappiness in his voice and see the pain radiating in his son’s eyes over not making the music he wanted. It hurt John for a bit, but it also had him thinking about how it might help keep Dean home and safe.

“The business can chew you up and spit you out pretty easily.”

Dean watched as his father continued to eat his meatloaf, letting the conversation die. Yet, he knew where it would lead if he kept the conversation going.

Finishing his meal, Dean cleaned up his face and reached for his wallet before John stopped him.

“I got this son, you go on home, or are you going back out for a ride?” John asked.

“I need to rest, so I’ll be up in my room,” Dean lied as he slid out of the booth. “So I’ll be in bed by the time you get home, maybe.”

“Okay, I’ll be up watching some tv, so I’ll try not to make too much noise,” John pulled out his wallet and a few bills to place on the table.

Dean walked out and towards his bike just as John got into his truck.

On the ride home, Dean was thinking of what his escape plan would be. He already knew he would climb down the trellis, but his guitar had to come with him. Reaching the house, both men stayed in silence as they went their separate ways. Dean closed his door and put the lock on for good measure. He felt like a teenager hiding from his parents, but he knew his father would never understand. And honestly, Dean really had no place to go, and if he had to keep his musical exploits a secret, then so be it. One could say he wanted to try to impress a particular bartender he met last night, also wondering if he would hear her sweet voice again. Grabbing his case, he looked around for something he could use to strap it to his back, finding a rope he could use on the fly.

Once he was sure that the case was secured to his back, Dean carefully climbed out of the window to sit on the windowsill. He moved as carefully as he could, making sure to avoid making too much noise with his guitar case and getting it out of the window. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he reached the trellis and slowly began to climb down.

“You got this, Dean,” he said to himself as he made sure to place his foot on the holes as he climbed down. “Just like that time you snuck out to head over to the bonfire,” he took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat, “granted you also missed a small hole and fell when you reached the last foot off the ground, but you did it.”

Finally reaching the bottom of the trellis, Dean gave a small jump and smiled in satisfaction. Heading to his bike and rolling it away from the house to not make any noise when he started the engine. Once he was a block away, at least, his night began. The ride to Rusty’s was smooth, and Dean could see it already start to fill with patrons. Parking his bike, he adjusted his guitar and made his way inside. His smile grew when he saw Y/N at the bar already taking orders.

“You know we really do have to stop meeting like this,” he called out with a smile when she turned to him.

“Does that line work? I mean, right now, it just seems like you’re trying too hard,” she let out as she walked over to him, “going to drink, perform, or both?”

“Both,” he answered, “know where I can find Jo?”

“She’s over by the stage taking names for tonight,” she pointed over to the blond who was talking to a few groups.

“Wait,” Dean squinted a bit, “That’s Jo Harvelle? I know Jo,” Dean smiled and turned to face Y/N, “Will you be performing tonight?”

“Nope,” she sighed, popping the ‘p.’ “Yesterday was a fluke. I was filling in for someone.”

“I’m going to go talk to Jo,” Dean said before leaning over and taking Y/N’s arm gently before she could leave. “Whoever told you that you weren’t amazing last night was lying to you, sweetheart.” He let her go before she could give him a counterargument and made his way to the stage with his guitar strapped to his back.

As he approached the stage, he could feel a hand pull him back, and a person walked past him.

“Hey,” he called out, “do you mind?”

“Why yez, ah do mind,” the familiar Cajun voice said, “didn’ tink youz goin’ tah show up.”

Dean gave Benny a cocky smile before huffing, “I did tell you I would see you. Let me guess you have a song to sing tonight too?”

“Betta’ than what chu have to play i’m zure,” Benny chuckled, “I didn’ tink dat dey let chu play an inztrumentz.”

“I was playing the guitar before I ever joined that group,” Dean said with a low growl, “how the hell did you recognize me anyway.”

“The long lockz don’ matta to me brotha,” Benny sighed, “but da eyez are da windows to da soul.”

“You and everyone else seem to recognize me,” Dean muttered, “well, you can go ahead and sing your song before me,” Dean offered him a sly smile, “I’m sure I can bring the house down.”

Benny let out a scoff before turning away to walk towards Jo, “good luck wit dat brotha.”

Dean watched as Benny talked to Jo, who gave him a quick nod while jotting down a note. Once she was done, the Cajun turned around and checked Dean on the shoulder.

“Good luck up, der,” he chuckled at Dean, “you lookz like you need it.”

Dean clenched his jaw as Benny walked away. The guy really didn’t like him. Dean didn’t do anything. Hell, most people’s assumptions of him now have to do with the damn drug charge. Shaking his head, he walked up to Jo and adjusted the guitar strapped to his back. As he walked up to the young blond, he couldn’t help but smile as a memory of a young girl in pigtails flashed before him.

“Never thought you’d grow out of the pigtail stage,” he said as he stood in front of her.

“Well, well, well,” she said, chuckling before pulling him into a tight hug, “never thought the infamous Dean Winchester would grace us with his presence. I thought this place would be too. country for you?”

“I want to sign up to perform,’ he let out with a deep breath.

“Fees $20 to perform,’ she sighed.

“Performance fee?” Dean scoffed, “Really, Jo? Who the hell came up with that?”

“Look,” Jo sighed, “The $20 goes for every and all performers. It’s a small fee for renting out the stage. Besides, you get more in tips if people really like you.”

Dean grumbled as he fished in his pockets for a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to Jo and shook his head, “I’m only going to be singing the one song.”

“Okay,” Jo wrote down his name and smiled, “You can wait by the bar and order some food. I’ll have someone pull you to the back about three performers before you.” She reached over and pulled him into a hug, “Welcome home, Dean. I have a feeling this is going to be a fresh start for you. You never looked right with that band.”

Dean smiled as he hugged her back, “Thanks, Jo.”

With that, Jo pulled away to let him walk towards the bar with his guitar still on his back. Approaching the bar, Dean smiled, seeing Y/N smile as she served customers. Her laugh reached his ears, and it pulled at him. There was a sense of comfort he felt from listening to Y/N’s laugh. Her laugh was very familiar to him. Walking to the bar, he pulled up a stool and sat down to wait for his turn. He wanted to try out his new song, but he wasn’t sure about the tempo yet. He continued playing around with different beats, but all he could come up with was a depressing march, but it didn’t seem to fit the song at all. With a groan, Dean decided to get something in his stomach while he waited.

“You look like you got something bothering you, Gringo.”

Dean snapped his head up from the menu to see Y/N leaning over the bar top towards him.

“Just trying to figure out what to eat before I have to head up on stage,” He chuckled, trying to shrug off the nervous feeling he had on him. “Besides, Benny’s gonna get mad if he sees you talking to me.”

“I can handle Benny,” Y/N offered him a smile, “besides, I’m the only bartender here, so I’m doing my job.”

“What do you recommend from the kitchen?” Dean asked as he licked his lips. There was something alluring about Y/N, but at the same time, he felt as though he had known her from before their encounter in the coffee shop.

“Honestly? The ultimate bacon burger,” Y/N answered. “It’s got premium Angus beef, with nice crispy bacon, a chipotle aioli, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. Not to mention you can have it with steak fries or onion rings.”

“That actually sounds good. I’ll have that and a bottle of Margiekugels,” Dean closed up the menu and sighed, “So is there ever a chance I’m going to see you on stage again?”

Y/N looked over at him as she put in his order on the digital register, “I don’t know,” she sighed, “it was just a one-time thing being up there.”

“Well, if you ever want to go up there again,” Dean said before taking a sip of his beer, “I could always be your backup.”

“Look,” Y/N shook her head with a slight huff. “I know all about you. Just because you cut your hair doesn’t mean that people aren’t going to recognize those big green eyes of yours,” she gave him a soft glare. “I’m not into rock stars, so do me a favor and just find someone else to play with, okay?”

Dean let out a small huff with a smirk, “well, screw you then, sweetheart.”

He took another sip of his beer and shook his head.

“You think you know me because of what the media says about things I didn’t even do? Then fine, you know me. But in reality, you’re just a scared little bitch who wants to stay behind the bar counter.” he grabbed his guitar as he got off the stool. “You can have them send my burger to the table in the corner over there,” he pointed towards the back of the saloon and slapped some money on the counter, “keep the change.”

He stalked off with his beer and guitar, chest full of anger as he looked up to see Benny had already gone on stage and was singing a song. The people were cheering and hollering for him.

Goin' 'round in circles

Pickin' out a cue

Travelin' with no memory

Ow, in my shoe

Down don't bother me.

If the music say

You can take a picture baby

Time won't care

And you're my second nature

A-coming over me

And though I might be shakin'

Down don't bother me no more.

Down don't bother me no more

Down don't bother me no more

Down don't bother me no more

As Benny finished his song, Dean rolled his eyes as everyone in the crowd cheered and whistled. Seemed like Benny has a crew of regulars that come to see him. He took a swig of his beer, smacking his lips and smiling at the waitress who brought his burger to him. Dean could feel Y/N staring, but he didn’t care. She had made up her mind, and he was done trying to prove to people that he wasn’t an asshole.

Finishing up his burger, he watched as Benny made his way over and rolled his eyes. He should have known that the seat he picked was closest to the kitchen.

“I’ze hope chu enjoyed dat performaze brotha,” Benny chuckled, “chu look like you could yuz da luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Dean grumbled, “I know my skills, so why don’t you go back to yours and leave me and mine alone.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and let out a laugh, “didn’t mean ta hit a sore spot witch you. Enjoy da burga.”

Dean shook his head as Benny walked into the kitchen. His nerves were starting to get the best of him as he could feel his hands shake. Looking at his guitar propped up in the chair, his mind began to spin with thoughts.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ his mind shouted. ‘People are going to hate this song. I don’t even have a tempo yet!’

He could feel his heart race. Nothing could get him to snap out of it. At least, not until Jo came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jerk.

“Hey,” she gave him a warm smile. “You got two performers before you. You should head backstage. I’ll show you the way.”

Dean nodded numbly as he followed her, not noticing an old friend watching him as he disappeared behind a black curtain.

Chapter 3

Tags in the Reblog

[whitehotharlots]

A movement that cannot be criticized cannot achieve positive goals

The hardest part of talking about malignant trends on the broad left is that, well, you’re not allowed to talk about them. It’s no exaggeration to say that criticism has become fully conflated with violence. If you attempt to engage critically with a left-liberal writer--regardless of how thorough and respectful you may be, and regardless of how powerful, public, or insulated the subject of the criticism--you will be accused of dismissing and erasing the writer, of inciting violence against the writer, and of committing some form of genocide against whichever identity groups the writer belongs to.

Conversely, if you don’t provide specifics, you’ll be accused of making stuff up. The same people who claim it’s an act of aggression to ask for proof when they make claims of victimization turn into immense pedants the moment they encounter a heterodox opinion. 

Unsurprisingly, a discourse milieu in which critical analysis is forbidden is a prime breeding ground for unsustainable (and even horrific) behavioral standards. Never mind improving the world that exists outside their sphere of influence... these people are perpetually on the brink of destroying their allies, their institutions, and themselves.

Today I dug into an especially profane case that highlights both of these points. It’s a matter of public record, so I hopefully won’t get accused of “doxing” anyone for discussing it. It’s also the sort of story where if someone cares about it, they’ll have an opinion of it within a second or two of reading a headline describing what happened. This means it’ll only be of interest to the sort of cranks who read this blog. My goal here isn’t to express outrage or advocate for one side or other--although it is outrageous, and you won’t have to try too hard to see which side I favor. Instead, I’m going to try to move beyond that, to use this instance as a broader cautionary tale in regards to the more horrific tendencies of the identitarian left, and to begin formulating some means of resistance. 

In other words, this might get boring. Even more so than usual. 

The story involves a court case, documented here, in which a young man named Kieran Bhattacharya is suing the University of Virginia Medical School. Mr. Bhattacharya (a white supremacist name if I’ve ever heard one) was subjected to formal censure, repeated psychological evaluations, suspension, and eventual expulsion. This all happened because he raised some concerns after a White Fragility-inspired panel on microaggressions.

This is one of those cases where both sides are going to assume there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface and, like I said, are going to be disinclined toward actually reading the available evidence. Thankfully, the court brief is fairly exhaustive and--importantly--the account provided in the brief has received the approval of both plaintiff and defendant. To stress, everyone involved in this case agrees, legally, that the account provided herein is an accurate picture of what happened. Additionally, we also have audio of the initial microaggression seminar (Mr. Bhattacharya’s comments start at around the 28:30 mark), as well as of the pursuant committee meeting that ended in his expulsion. 

Here is the initial exchange, as documented by the brief:

Bhattacharya: Hello. Thank you for your presentation. I had a few questions just to clarify your definition of microaggressions. Is it a requirement, to be a victim of microaggression, that you are a member of a marginalized group? 

Adams: Very good question. And no. And no— 

Bhattacharya: But in the definition, it just said you have to be a member of a marginalized group—in the definition you just provided in the last slide. So that’s contradictory. 

Adams: What I had there is kind of the generalized definition. In fact, I extend it beyond that. As you see, I extend it to any marginalized group, and sometimes it’s not a marginalized group. There are examples that you would think maybe not fit, such as body size, height, [or] weight. And if that is how you would like to see me expand it, yes, indeed, that’s how I do. 

Bhattacharya: Yeah, follow-up question. Exactly how do you define marginalized and who is a marginalized group? Where does that go? I mean, it seems extremely nonspecific.

 Adams: And—that’s intentional. That’s intentional to make it more nonspecific . . . . 

After the initial exchange, Bhattacharya challenged Adams’s definition of microaggression. He argued against the notion that “the person who is receiving the microaggressions somehow knows the intention of the person who made it,” and he expressed concern that “a microaggression is entirely dependent on how the person who’s receiving it is reacting.” Id. He continued his critique of Adams’s work, saying, “The evidence that you provided—and you said you’ve studied this for years—which is just one anecdotal case—I mean do you have, did you study anything else about microaggressions that you know in the last few years?” Id. After Adams responded to Bhattacharya’s third question, he asked an additional series of questions: “So, again, what is the basis for which you’re going to tell someone that they’ve committed a microaggression? . . . Where are you getting this basis from? How are you studying this, and collecting evidence on this, and making presentations on it?”

You can listen to the audio if you like. There’s nothing there, in my opinion, that is not captured accurately in the written description. Bhattacharya does not yell or raise his voice. He sounds skeptical, but in no way violent or threatening. Nor does Adams, the presenter, signal that she is experiencing anything that approaches fear or trauma. 

Immediately after the event, a professor who helped organize the discussion filed a “Professionalism Concern Card”--a cute academic euphemism for a disciplinary write up--against Bhattacharya, alleging he had displayed a troubling lack of respect for differences (the irony here probably does not need to be explicated).

Soon after that--literally still the same day of the panel--Bhattacharya received an email from faculty asking him to “share his thoughts” so as to help him “understand and be able to cope with unintended consequences of conversations.” The tone of the email is polite and professional, but the text hints toward an attempt at entrapment. You’ll see this a lot in woke spaces--invitations to come to an understanding with one another that are, in actuality, attempts to get a person to say something cancellable.

Bhattacharya took the bait, and, well… 

During Bhattacharya and Peterson’s one-hour meeting, Peterson “barely mentioned” Bhattacharya’s questions and comments at the panel discussion. Dkt. 33 ¶ 73. Instead, Peterson attempted to determine Bhattacharya’s “views on various social and political issues—including sexual assault, affirmative action, and the election of President Trump.” 

At this point, the kid was fucked. He soon after had an uneventful-seeming meeting with a dean. Two weeks after that, a separate panel found him guilty of “patterns of unprofessional behavior and egregious violations of professionalism” and strongly encouraged him to seek psychological counseling. 

Pre-Trump, Bhattacharya still probably would have been fine if he had just kept his head down, gone to a couple therapy sessions, and maybe issued an empty apology. Since 2016, however, the rules have changed. An accusation is now absolute proof of guilt and no amount of ablution can save someone in a vulnerable position. 

Eleven days after receiving the ostensible suggestion that he receive counseling, Bhattacharya was informed that he would not be permitted to return to classes until he had been evaluated. A day after that--before even having the opportunity to seek the mandated counseling--he was given a mere 3 hours notice before having to attend another disciplinary committee meeting. 

This meeting found that Bhattacharya’s continuing behaviors were proof that he posed an imminent danger to the campus community, although the committee did not bother to explain what those behaviors entailed. His behavior was simply noted as “unusual” and this was proof that “Any patient that walked into the room with [Bhattacharya] would be scared.” The following day, Bhattacharya was forcibly removed from campus and told he could not return until he had been screened. He was, subsequently, not allowed to receive sanctioned screening, because of his status of having been removed from campus after being deemed a security risk.

Again, none of what I have described is an exaggeration. None of these details are even being contested. 

Now for my own conjecture: the problem isn’t that anyone genuinely believes Bhattacharya poses a threat to anyone’s safety. The problem is that he attempted to question the ideological firmaments of contemporary anti-racist training. These firmaments are protected with aggressive viciousness precisely because they cannot withstand scrutiny. Had Bhattacharya merely scoffed at them, or even if he had been outright condescending and dismissive, he probably would not have received such a severe punishment. The problem was that he was right, and his accusers knew it.

Understanding speech in the manner prescribed by the peddlers of microaggression theory cannot possibly be codified in a way that won't result in arbitrary punishment. Bhattacharya’s experience demonstrates that with horrific irony. 

The assertion here is that the intention of a speech act should have no bearing on how we adjudicate the morality of that speech act--such a point was made repeatedly in the initial discussion, and stressed once again after Bhattacharya’s concerns have been raised. This standard contradicts how we've processed the morality of speech for centuries, but that's what people are very explicitly demanding.

How is this workable, when literally any statement could, conceivably, be considered offensive by at least one individual? This, I feel, was the point Bhattacharya reaching toward. If you were to say, I dunno, "I love trees" to a group of 1000 people, 999 of them could regard that statement as benign. But what if one person takes offense to it? What if they work in the lumber industry, or they were molested by guy in a Smokey the Bear costume? What if that person then files a report accusing the tree lover of offensive speech? Will the speaker be disciplined? Or will the powers that be take intention and effect into account?

Of course, we're not going to criminalize all speech in this way. Like all extreme and broad-reaching disciplinary standards, this one will only be selectively evoked in order to punish people with heterodox opinions and/or those whose presence threatens the status quo. Someone who says something much more incendiary, like "all men are rapists" or "white people shouldn't get social security" would not receive a reprimand regardless of how much offense their statements caused, because they're saying something that's acceptable in our current milieu. And right now, the least acceptable speech is that which shines a light on the manifest flaws and hypocrisies of corporate anti racism. 

Back to my hypothetical example, if the tree-loving speaker was on good terms with everyone, the complaint would most likely be ignored. But if he had said or done other things that for whatever reason displeased the people in charge, the specious accusation could still ruin him. What's worse, the person who filed the allegation of offense might not have even actually taken offense at the statement--they were just looking for a way to get rid of him.

Bhattacharya was attempting to voice legitimate criticisms about a political movement whose suggestions are functionally unworkable and that, even if it were implemented fully and uncritically, does not contain even a hypothetical explanation in regards to how its goals would result in improved racial equality/equity. Because of that, he was cynically labeled dangerous and expelled from a public university. 

You'd think a group that obsesses over power differentials and their own marginalization would have some grasp of this. Regardless of which side you fall into with this particular culture war, it should fucking terrify you that a movement that’s been tasked with addressing pressing social problems is designed in such a way that any substantial criticism is met with aggressive punishment. 

There’s no way you can win if this is you is how conduct yourself. This is why we’re losing. This is why even if you get all the censorship and deplatforming you can ever dream of, even if every major bank and multinational corporatation professes fealty to your movement, you will still lose. Because there’s no way you can win. 

[bi-bard]

Red - Team Free Will 2.0 Song Preference (Supernatural)

Title: Red

Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel, Jack

Song: Red by Taylor Swift

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,777 words

Warning(s): mentions of character death, arguing, cussing

Author's Note: PLEASE SEND IN SONG PREFERENCE REQUESTS!

ALSO! Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

------------------------------------

Sam Winchester (Between Season 5 & 6):

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes Tell myself it's time now gotta let go But moving on from him is impossible When I still see it all in my head

After Sam and Adam were dragged into the cage, I moved in with Bobby. Dean had gone to live a normal life with Lisa and I told him I would find my own place.

Bobby was great.

He took me in, gave me food, gave me a job to do, and let me help him with the lore and hunting.

It was a few months later that I could've sworn I saw Sam through my window. I ran over but... he was gone as soon as I had gotten there.

At the start, I was convinced it was grief. My brain playing tricks on me in some futile attempt to feel comforted. So, I didn't tell Bobby.

It kept happening.

I would see Sam for a second but he would be gone before I could do anything about it. Through the kitchen window, on my way through Bobby's salvage yard, when I went into town to do the grocery shopping. It was like Sam was haunting me.

I knew that I needed to move on but I couldn't. He was always there.

One day, it all came to a head.

I was in the kitchen. I had made a meal for Bobby and me that was a little fancier than usual. It was a thank you of sorts. I was putting plates down as Bobby sat in his seat. I looked out the small window and I saw him... Sam... just watching.

I was set on not letting him get away.

"Hey," I yelled, going to run outside.

I sprinted into the maze of cars.

"Sam," I yelled. "I saw you!"

I stopped where I knew he had been. There were footprints there but not walking to or away from the spot.

"I... I saw you!"

Bobby followed close behind me.

"I... I saw you," my yelling had turned into a soft voice. I looked at Bobby, who looked concerned and confused. "I saw him."

"Come here," Bobby held his arms out, letting me hug him as tight as possible. "You're going to be okay, kid."

"He was here," I mumbled. "I can't be hallucinating. Sam was right there."

"Let's go inside," Bobby stepped back enough to lead me back to the house. It was silent until we got back inside. "I'm gonna give Dean a call."

"No, no, don't call Dean," I shook my head. "He's happy. He's safe."

"(Y/n)-"

"Please, Bobby, don't call Dean," I begged. Bobby finally nodded.

"Go get some rest, okay? I'll bring you some food in a bit."

"Am... Am I crazy?"

"No, not at all," he promised. "Go rest. We'll talk in the morning."

I walked to my room and curled up under my blanket. I didn't know if what I saw was real... I just knew that I wanted it to be. I didn't want to let go of Sam yet.

Dean Winchester (Season 13):

Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword And realizing there's no right answer Regretting him was like wishing you never found out That love could be that strong

We had just gotten back to the bunker with the adult-looking Jack. They were confused, clearly scared, and Dean's anger didn't help them at all. Listening to Dean and Sam yell back and forth made my head pound.

Sam walked out and Dean wasn't done. He continued trying to rant at me about how the kid was going to be evil.

"Stop it," I finally snapped. "You are blaming a child who's not even a week old! They didn't kill anyone!"

"They tricked Cas! They manipulated him," Dean screamed.

"They were a fucking fetus," I yelled back. "They didn't kill Cas! Lucifer did! They didn't get Mary stuck in that other world! Lucifer did! They are not the reason Crowley felt the need to sacrifice himself! Lucifer was! Don't blame Jack for something their father caused!"

I stormed away, wanting nothing more than space from Dean.

"They-"

"Dean, I swear to fucking God," I stopped and turned around. "If we punished people for what their parents did, I would've shot you and Sam down years ago! Stop being so fucking dense!"

"Don't compare my dad to Lucifer!"

"I'm comparing you to Jack!"

He walked over but I held my hands up, going to leave the room.

"You can't just walk away from this," he snapped.

"I can when there's no point in talking," I said. "You're fixated on blaming someone but you're aiming at the wrong target."

We were both silent. We weren't going to get anywhere with conversation tonight.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna sleep on the couch in the Dean Cave tonight," I mumbled. "We both need a chance to calm down."

"(Y/n)," I looked at him as I walked out. "I love you."

I smiled, "You too."

I just needed a night without the tension that was obviously there. Hopefully, we could talk tomorrow because we were not going to solve anything tonight.

Castiel (Season 7):

Losing him was blue, like I'd never known Missing him was dark gray, all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know Somebody you never met But loving him was red

I remember being little and dreaming of my future. I was convinced I would have a fun job and I'd live a nice life.

Now, I was curled up on a couch in Bobby's hidden cabin, crying as quietly as possible over the angel that I had fallen in love with.

Nothing goes to plan.

After Castiel died, things got too crazy for me to properly handle what had happened. I was just along for the ride that the Winchesters had dragged me on.

Now, I had no other distractions. We were in hiding so I didn't have anything else to focus on other than the loss. I was shaking and trying to keep myself from sobbing loudly as I finally let the weight of losing Cas hit me.

"(Y/n)," I looked over to see Sam looking at me. I wiped my eyes. He walked over, sitting next to me. "Come here."

I scooted over and let him hug me to his side.

"I've got you," he promised.

Sam could relate to this moment better than anyone. Not only had he been through the same thing with Jess, but he was also the brother that had an easier time getting in touch with his emotions.

I stayed in that position, sobbing into his shoulder until I couldn't cry anymore.

I slowly sat up, wiping my leftover tears and letting out a deep breath.

"Do you wanna talk about it," Sam asked.

I shook my head. I didn't wanna talk about Cas's death. I wanted to talk about anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about him," he corrected.

"Umm," I trailed off for a moment. "Yeah."

"Okay," Sam nodded. He waited for me to talk.

"Cas never slept, he never needed to," I said after a few moments of silence. "I always considered the sweetest thing is when he'd lay with me through the night while I slept."

Sam chuckled.

I continued talking about Cas for... hours, probably. I had told countless stories. At some point, Dean walked out and sat down with the two of us.

"I don't... I don't want to forget anything," I muttered. "His voice, his face... I don't... I just want him back."

Dean moved to sit next to me as I started shaking again.

The brothers held me in a tight hug as I grieved. I was terrified of saying goodbye and I was terrified of forgetting.

"He adored you," Dean mumbled. "I saw it. Before you two were even together, he would focus on you whenever you walked into the room. We could've been face-to-face with the most dangerous thing in the universe but you would've been the center of his attention."

"He was the center of mine," I replied. "And he was the love of my life. I'm not going to let him go. Ever."

It was a promise I was prepared to always keep.

Jack Kline (Season 14):

Loving him is like trying to change your mind Once you're already flying through the free fall Like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all

Love could be a lot of things. Brilliant, terrifying, memorable, crazy... so many things.

I liked to describe love as one thing, "not for me."

I spent years thinking that my life in hunting would cut me off from any potential romantic relationships.

Then, I met Jack.

I didn't even know them very long before I found myself behaving like a lovesick teenager. I was blushing when they got too close, getting nervous when they looked at me silently, staring too often, and just being an absolute mess. It all happened so fast. I fell before I had even seen the edge of the cliff.

It all happened too fast and I couldn't stop it.

"Just tell them," Sam said. I looked away from Jack, who was at the other table, talking with Cas.

"Am I that obvious," I asked.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Almost obnoxiously."

Cas walked away from Jack and Sam smirked at me before standing and following him. I glared at him as he left.

"Hey," I said awkwardly as I walked over and sat next to Jack.

"Hi," they smiled.

I almost froze. Imagine being able to fight demons and angels, but not being able to ask someone out on a date. This is what my life had turned into.

"Did you need something," they asked.

"Yeah, kind of," I took a moment to close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Jack. I really like you. This life had convinced me that I wasn't going to ever feel this way for someone. Then, I met you and I think I fell before I even realized it. I just... I really, really like you."

Jack blinked at me for a moment. I was about to apologize and walk away when they smiled at me.

"I really like you too," they replied. I let out a deep breath and smiled again.

It was a moment of light. We didn't get many in the bunker. We've faced so many dark moments in this place but this moment was so different. It was a small moment of lovely light when I was convinced I would never get that.

------------------------------------

Masterlist

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[pastorpresent]

Sam was really starting to despise bars.

It's like as soon as they entered one Dean would ditch him to chat up some hot blonde, leaving Sam alone to hunch over his beer and sit miserably as he watched Dean give all his attention to some bitch in a mini skirt.

He knew him and Dean weren't an exclusive thing. Hell, they were hardly even a thing at all. They hooked up here and there but Sam was starting to believe Dean only used him for convenience. After a long, gruelling hunt why would he waste energy trying to flirt his way into a girls bed, when he knows Sam will melt into him immediately?

It made Sam feel painfully pathetic for even feeling remotely jealous.

Tonight it was worse. Tonight it had been 2 whole weeks since Dean had even looked at him with lust in his eyes, nevermind fucked him.

He was losing interest and it hurt more than it should. It only hurt worse when they ended up in yet another bar, with Dean leaving him after a record fast time of 2 minutes to go sit with some long legged brunette a few tables over.

Sam sat in his seat, alone at the table picking at the label on his beer whilst trying his hardest not to fucking cry.

"Hey gorgeous, can I buy you another?" Sam's head lifted up to see a guy smiling down at him.

He looked a little older than Dean, but he wasn't unattractive whatsoever. He was built with plenty of muscle, and his face seemed kind.

Normally Sam would've declined, but his eyes flickered over to Dean where he had his arm around the girl and he found himself accepting.

A minute later the stranger was taking the seat opposite him, sliding over a beer and taking a swig of his own.

"So, does my angel have a name?" The man grinned, and Sam felt his cheeks burning up.

It felt like forever since Dean made him blush.

"Uh S-Sam. And you?" He was admittedly a little out of his depth. He had never flirted much in his life, especially not with strangers at bars, but the guy didn't seem put off by his stuttering. In fact, his smile just got a little bigger as if he found it endearing somehow.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sam, my name's Adam. Any reason why someone so beautiful is sat alone in a bar on a Friday night? You're wasted in this place, Sammy." The familiar nickname almost sent a shiver through Sam, and he took a drink of his beer to hide it.

"Let's just say my date ditched me." It wasn't a total lie, Sam thought as he looked over to where Dean was saying something hilarious, if the way the girl threw her head back with laughter was any indication.

Adam moved his chair a little closer, and Sam felt a hand move slowly over his thigh.

"Well whoever your date is? I think they're certifiably insane." He grinned and Sam found himself laughing and blushing more at the guys upfront flattery.

Him and Adam talked for 30 minutes, and honestly Sam really liked the guy. He was sweet and funny, and even if Sam doubted he would end up going home with the guy, he was enjoying the attention regardless.

Adam squeezed his knee, sent him a small smile.

"Can I kiss you then, Sammy?" Sam's heart was going like a jack hammer in his chest, and he found his eyes travelling uncertainly to Dean for the first time in the last half hour.

The girl was gone. Sam wasn't sure why or when, but she was and Dean was still sat at the table with his eyes locked on him in such a way that he couldn't read. Dean's face was expressionless almost, fingers drumming against his bottle, and Sam swallowed down any sort of reservations he had with the last mouthful of his fourth beer that night.

He didn't answer Adam's request verbally, opting to instead lean forward and close those few inches until their mouths were locked together.

At first it felt... wrong. Maybe not wrong perse, just... odd. Sam wasn't certain when the last time was that he kissed someone who wasn't Dean, but he was willing to bet it had been well over a year.

Having someone kissing him who wasn't Dean just felt a little unnatural at first, but once Adam squeezed his thigh and nibbled gently at his bottom lip Sam felt himself relaxing into it and enjoying the feeling.

It was short lived, because very early into their make out session Adam was pulled - no, yanked - back and shoved to the floor.

"Stay the fuck off him, you creep!" Dean snarled, and it took Sam a minute to comprehend what was happening. Dean had his boot pinning Adam to the ground with ease, grinding it down with spite and making the man gasp for a breath.

"Dean! What the fuck?!" Sam demanded, standing up fast enough that his bottle tipped and the few drops of beer left dribbled out onto the table.

Dean didn't lift his foot, until he noticed shocked bystanders reaching for their phones to call the cops.

He spat on Adam, before turning and grabbing Sam by the wrist and pulling him out the bar and straight to the impala.

"Get in." Dean grunted, shoving himself in the drivers seat.

Sam rolled his eyes but did as he was told, dropping into the passenger seat. He barely had his door shut before Dean was speeding out the parking lot, and Sam felt his frustration flare even more.

What fucking right did Dean have to throw a guy off him, and how the hell did he have the audacity to be the one who was mad right now?

"That's was completely fucking unnecessary in there! He wasn't some creep, Dean. His name was Adam and he was actually really sweet-"

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.

"He had his fucking hand on your thigh."

"So?! That girl was practically giving you a hand job under the table and I wasn't trying to cut off her air supply for it!" Sam exclaimed, and Dean's expression tightened.

"That's different."

"How?" Sam questioned, but Dean remained silent and tight lipped. Sam wasn't letting it go that easily. No way.

"How is it different, Dean? It's the exact same and you know it, you're just-"

The car jerked so violently off to the side of the road that Sam very almost hit his head off the window, gripping the dashboard to steady himself.

Dean killed the engine.

"It's different because it was someone touching you, Sam!" Dean yelled, and Sam just stared, brows furrowed and confused.

"Fuck this." Dean muttered, throwing his door open and getting out, running his hands over his face.

Sam sighed, climbing out and going around the car to be stood beside him.

"I don't get it."

"Because- look. I don't know, ok? I know it makes me hypocritical as fuck, but I saw you kissing him and... God Sam. I've never felt so fucking furious in my life. It had me reaching for my damn gun." Dean puffed out a breath, staring at the ground instead of Sam.

"Dean." Sam said quietly, inching closer and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw line.

Some of the tension left Dean then, and he brought his hands around Sam's waist.

"You know we can't keep doing things this way. It's gonna get someone killed." Sam pointed out and Dean's face hardened again slightly.

"Yeah, whichever guy thinks he can touch you next." He said, his voice low with a possessive tint that made Sam roll his eyes.

"Likely. I think... we need to either end this all together or make it exclusive." Sam murmured, and Dean leaned forward to kiss him.

"I have no issue with being exclusive. You've ruined me for girls anyway... the last couple of weeks I can't even get it up for them. That may have been the reason we haven't fucked in two weeks, because I've maybe been trying to see if I can get hard for girls still. Turns out I can, but it takes far too much effort to be sexy." That send a flush of pride through Sam and he grinned, nipping at Dean's lips.

"Maybe it's the old age?" He teased, and Dean rolled his eyes but smirked as he grabbed Sam's wrist and directed it to his hard on.

"Nah, baby. All you. Always you, Sammy."

[adammilligan]

I think you brought this up in a previous post briefly, but how much of the ghoul do you think is Adam?

!!!! okay so long story short: i think the ghoul replicated a few of his mannerisms, but ABSOLUTELY not his personality.

i'll start with his personality. adam is, as proven by 5x18, VERY defensive over the idea that anyone can get to claim the title of "family" just because they're related to him. exhibit a:

GHOUL!ADAM: I've got brothers? [...] Well, you're my brothers. You're telling me the truth, right? [Yeah.] Then I believe you.

vs.

ADAM: So we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family. And if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she's the one I give a rat's ass about, not you.

another thing about his personality that the ghoul did not act out on is adam's complete and utter willingness to do the opposite of what people say:

SAM: I'm gonna teach you a few things.

GHOUL!ADAM: Uh, Dean said—

SAM: I know what Dean said. And I know what it's like to want revenge.

vs.

SAM: Going somewhere?

ADAM [after trying to walk out the door while no one was looking]: Out for a...beer.

^^^and like sam's line above in 4x19, here's another thing: as proven by 15x08, adam is not the revenge type.

GHOUL!ADAM: This thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, I want in. [...] I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I want to do it.

vs.

ADAM [after being abandoned in hell for centuries]: [There's nothing we can say to fix that.] How about, uh...I'm sorry?

more than that, the ghoul greatly exaggerated adam's fear levels when it comes to stressful situations:

GHOUL!ADAM: No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you two—well, you tell me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show? So, who are you really?

vs.

ADAM: So you lied...about everything. Oh, you son of a bitch. [stands up, ready to fight] Yeah, I'm not gonna let you do this.

ANOTHER topic that the ghoul falsified is the topic of john winchester:

GHOUL!ADAM: When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and—and after I begged her—God, 24/7—she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night. He would swing by once a year or so. He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen. And, uh...he showed me how to drive. Dad, he had this beautiful 'sixty-seven Impala—

vs.

ADAM: No, John Winchester was some guy that took me to a baseball game once a year. I don't have a dad. [...] Do you know how full of crap you are?Really. You see, it was me and it was my mom. That's it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed. So you can say whatever you want about our dad, but the truth is, I would have taken anything.

while the ghoul portrays a sense of hero-worship (in its efforts to lure sam and dean into a false sense of security) the truth is that adam didn't like john. at all. he was extremely bitter at him for never being around to help pay the bills and ease all the stress his mom had to go through and he was bitter because he had to grow up too fast because his mom couldn't be around because she was trying to pay the bills.

now, onto mannerisms:

while there are some things that the ghoul exaggerated to make adam seem more like a naive little kid (the open usage of [dumb-looking] facial expressions around people he didn't know, the unconfident [slow tbh] gaze/walk compared to adam's confident posture, the way his mouth always fucking hung open for some reason, etc.) there were a couple things that i think actually fit adam's character:

one: the scene where ghoul!adam puts the napkin on his lap

adam (when he wasn't being surrounded by people he didn't like/didn't know) was typically very polite. think how he acted in 5x18 in the room with zachariah: hands folded, not taking up too much space, etc. out of everything the ghoul did, this is the action that didn't seem so out-of-character for a good kid who knows how to act polite in front of strangers when he wants.

another thing: the sort of bouncing movement that the ghoul does to represent nervousness

while adam didn't do this in either 5x18 or 15x08, it's proven in 15x08 that adam is really and truly expressive around people he trusts (more facial expressions, CONSTANT usage of talking with his hands, moving around a lot [head, limbs, etc]) so if the ghoul was trying to make the point that "adam" trusted sam and dean, something like this would be the way to do it.

but while i'm on this train, let me point out the biggest difference in mannerisms that the ghoul very specifically didn't do to get sam and dean to trust it: adam's reservedness.

i've said it a few times, but adam is not one to let anything show in front of people he doesn't trust. he's quiet(er), he's reserved, and he mostly keeps his emotions (and outbursts) on a metaphorical backburner until something really pokes him where he doesn't like it (i.e. being called family by two completely random strangers). even when he talked about john to sam, his face was cold and composed and didn't let anything show. we see that again in 15x08, where he lets himself express bitterness at the winchesters (but note again how quietly he did it and how composed he was when he did it) in front of michael, his friend of many years who he trusted.

there are a total of three times adam breaks composure: one, to chew out sam and dean for having the nerve to call him family in 5x18; two, when he was yelling for help when michael was descending in 5x18; and three, when he was trying not to cry after dean apologized in 15x08. even then, the only one where he even marginally raises his voice (aside from yelling for help: that doesn't count for obvious reasons) is when he's frustrated at sam and dean. and this is something that the ghoul doesn't follow through with: instead, it makes adam erratic, emotional, prone to outbursts; it made adam act like a stereotypical teenager instead of someone who grew up too fast and learned to mask his emotions like adam does.

overall, while the ghoul did get close to a couple of things about adam, it was ultimately about the furthest copy from adam that anyone could be. in the end, the goal was to bait sam and dean with the act so it and its sister could eat them⁠—and the plan worked. so yeah!

[elizabethrobertajones]

Hello there. I have a question (more like a thesis): What would have happened if Cas told the Truth anywhere between season 7 and 15? Do you think it would have had the same impact on Dean? Logically speaking Cas could have told him anytime.

Oh gosh, yes. I mean Dean’s reaction in season 15 is still the best it could have been really :P He was in the best place and most accepting of himself and he still had a BSOD for a moment and then Cas had to shove him away so he could go die... (Assuming you take the on screen boring presentation of what happened as canon and not throw in the reciprocation, tears, pull in for a kiss, etc that we know exists either in our hearts or on Jackles’ phone.)

I’ve been thinking about this and the parameters we’d have to apply if we were gonna get something like the show being self-healing back to its self as we know it but we were allowed a confession. Also the show has to be as punishing as ever. So these are my personal theses on each season... 

Season 7 the confession would have to be after Cas comes back, and everything in 7x17 that looked like Dean was jealous of Daphne and Meg textually was meant to be read that way in the set up for the confession. To make it the most painful obviously we still get Cas exactly as he was all through to the end of the season and he never really says anything too different but then right when they’re having the “cursed or not” discussion he’d bust out of nowhere that he supposes it is inevitable Dean would talk him into going on this dangerous mission to get Dick because obviously Cas loves him. And Dean, who is in a weirdly zen sort of place in the remaining minutes of season 7 after Bobby’s send off and final words that helped him go make up with Cas, is in a similarly season 15 oddly okay spot, mental health wise. At least. COMPARED TO ALL THE REST OF SEASON 7. But I still personally have always read it as a genuinely good place for him that could have endured much longer if not for *gestures everything that happened after stabbing Dick* and obviously making up with Cas was step one and a huge part of his process. 

(idk if you’ve noticed but 7x23 pretty much has no Sam and Dean interaction after Bobby’s send off, and their last good broments are really scarce; it feels sort of natural for abrupt calamity and no time for teary farewells in a season with a strong commentary on grief, which also hyperfocuses the attention on Dean n Cas there.)

So I think Dean would maybe be stunned but maybe quirk a sceptical smile like “He can’t mean it like that and anyway he’s currently coo-coo, this doesn’t mean anything hahaha oh Cas :)))” and then idk shake his head and move the story on and Cas just turns one longing look after him like “dammit that didn’t work out like planned” 

Anyway then the exact plot beats of 7x23 follow, exactly as seen on your screens, but we’re left going into season 8 and Carver era with Dean far far more messed up about Cas and it can force clarification in 8x02 in Purgatory where Cas is entirely adamant he meant what he meant and furious at Dean for being mad at him and Dean’s mad at Cas for all the season 8 reasons so they continue angsting at each other but Benny’s reaction shots are just 10x funnier. This is followed by Dean’s reciprocation of “I love you” instead of “I need you” in the crypt scene in 8x17 and from there honestly it’s been built up into canon in such a way that the emotional arc of the show has to go off the wheels and I can’t keep to the self-healing model to continue following the “real” plot and contain this much raw power.

Coincidentally, if the first confession is in season 8, it would be “what broke the connection” after a season 8 where nothing was different up until that point. Cas flaps off while Dean is still processing that the answer was “You. I love you.” and Dean is left yelling at the empty crypt like “What the hell, Cas?!” 

Then he’s as mad at him as he was in canon except instead of being borderline a really bad overreaction into his anger phase which we have to weather as miserable fans tethered to this ship who know sometimes Dean gets mad and yells at Cas for no reason, he’s reacting proportionately. It’s always seemed like 8x22 only makes sense if Dean is furious at Cas for confessing and fleeing except, obviously, in our “”real”” canon, it can only be like Cas confessed and Dean took it that way and also felt embarrassed how far he went with his own feelings only for Cas to run. 

This would make the bar scene with the cupids in 8x23 make a lot more sense too, and after they get the cupid bow Dean’s going to turn to Cas and give him a nervous smile, and then - Naomi flaps in like she does and distracts them away from reciprocation. 

I think this one could go long - maybe even season 13 Cas being dead and Dean being like “FUCK I never got a chance to work things out with him” and 13x06 onwards is where we get any actual work on the ship, because Carver era was so determined to be emotionally gruelling and unsatisfying and relentless from one issue to the next. And the confessions are so bound up specifically in the moments of miscommunication or failed attempts, cut off conversations etc that whether Destiel is canon or not, they’re never gonna get to talk it out under those conditions. Cas is only explicitly the grieving wife and jealous ex to Crowley’s smug take over of Dean’s affections rather than subtextually. 

The season 9 confession... I feel like we’d come perilously close to the Monkey Paw curse we once envisioned of Buckleming making it canon because they love jumping the gun on plot points and making them too obvious. So the end of 9x03, Cas is really blatantly angling to come in with a big “Hey I’m human can I live in the Bunker look at me I learned to do The Sex can we do it now” kind of vibe. All the enthusiasm he was giving to eating that burrito in the background while “Zeke” was trying to get him kicked out, but with lusting over Dean :P 

If we avoid that we can leap to Mr Bobo Berens and his first episode, and have this thing handled by a pro, as it’s already very much about Cas as a homeless queer man with a bad ex he still loves rolling into town where he’s just trying to make a new life and play straight - I mean human - for his own survival. I suspect the confrontation with Iphraim would make it really obvious that Cas didn’t just want to live as a human but had an eye for living as a human with Dean, and then he’d attempt a confession right before Dean would accidentally talk over, like, the L in “love” honestly, to tell him that sorry things do still stand that you can’t come back with me. Leaves Cas utterly devastated but Dean is none the wiser and he drives off and Cas pines piningly at the pine trees in his Gas n Sip. 

Again the end of season probably would force the real confession, since there’s a ready made moment in 9x22 where Hannah tries to force Cas to kill Dean and he gives it all up for one man. Cas can just lower that knife and be like, “No, I love him,” talking to his shoes and Hannah rather than meeting Dean’s eyes. Mark of Cain Dean is fuuuucked up at that point but we still get the moment where Dean carries Cas’s bag into the bunker and sits down with him and tries to care about his health and now also this confession. Sussing out what the heck is up with Cas, and maybe he looks like he’s playing it cool and is still so messed up but Cas is vulnerable, and finally Dean starts to reach across the library table for his hand, and it’s a moment where maybe things could have started to go better for them...... Cue Gadreel walking into the library, Dean going feral, blah blah demon!Dean, blah blah explicitly stated Drowley, blah blah muuuch healing and Cas giving Dean a wide berth for a lil while. Though, in this scenario, 10x22 is far worse but has the reverse crypt scene moment, so Dean can be more obviously unable to kill Cas because he loves him, and then he walks out, followed by season 11 and Cas being returned to them. Unfortunately. Yep. Another finger curls on the Monkey Paw... 11x03 by Buckleming would absolutely be where Destiel goes undeniably canon as it is their first real interactions post Mark of Cain. Our only consolation - directed by Jensen Ackles.

Season 10 confession, hm. Poor Cas. He has the option of 10x03, of confessing and then immediately apologising and walking off to handle stuff with Hannah (thanks Buckleming!) or the Burger Date, where Dean may be slightly less stunned stupid but still likely to laugh it off and not believe it. There’s not much heavy tension between them most of the season so it’s possible that the only time Cas would really get is to confess in 10x22 while telling Dean that he would have to watch him murder the world, and that would suck because I love you. At which point the story dictates that Dean beats Cas to paste so it’s a very bad look. Season 10 destiel confession is the worst. 

Season 11 may be better because Cas has options to be jealous of Crowley and Dean’s connection to Amara multiple times and then Casifer happens and that can really play up things in a season where a confession is coming. 

I think the Beer Run in 11x23 might be the only viable place, where Dean grabs Cas and takes him out for that drive for last drinks before the end of the world. Cas gets the “you’re our brother” thing and just lays into Dean with the certainty of someone who knows this is it - now or nothing - with “You know that’s crap, Dean. You wait until the end of the world and you can’t even say it. Well I can; I love you.” 

Cue awkward tension, well-placed interrupting Moose, and then the world very much not ending so that when Dean n Cas hug and kiss in front of Mary in 12x01. Well. There’s even more explaining to do to her. Since we’ve made it to Dabb era, I believe any confessions from this point onwards can just slot into the show as we got it from there since it’s entirely compatible to start season 12 assuming Dean n Cas are literally married and never be contradicted by the text in their behaviour. But since we’ve had canon Destiel since whenever, obviously the final episodes are good instead of. That.

Season 12... Going to have to go with the first sniff of true canon coming in Lily Sunder with just a few lines leaning even further in the Cas’s Angel Family Are Homophobic Assholes metaphor, leaving Cas’s relationship with Dean even more live wire exposed. Followed by The Mixtape Scene where Cas is going to confess to Dean and get him startled up out of his seat, accidentally knocking the mixtape to the floor and for a moment it’s like, did he throw it is he mad? but then he’s smooching Cas, fade to black, return to scheduled programming but the whole line about Cas stealing the Colt from under Dean’s pillow makes fuckin sense, as well as the fall out argument and how mad Dean was at Cas followed by how devastated he was at Cas’s death. This just means Dabb era continues as planned except we get a kiss in 13x06 under that big glowy cross, and some more smooching here and there when things are good from then on. 

Season 13... Hm. Cas has to do the confessing and I don’t think he’d throw that at Dean on return from death so unlike if Dean was the one who was being made to confess obviously the aforementioned glowy cross scene obviously would be it for him... Cas could keep that bottled up much longer, especially as he has so much to do with Jack this season. It’s entirely possible we go through the whole season and then Cas lobs it at Dean as a final card when he’s making his Michael decision and we actually see the scene that we didn’t get, where Cas has to watch Dean getting possessed. Except Dean is like, tearful and furious like why would you tell me that now, and anyway i’m doing this for you as well dumbass but fuck you but also how dare you anyway I need to be an archangel now and save our - your - son, bye. Cue Cas sitting there not just in total horror at what happened but also kicking himself for fucking up the moment :P I guess this way at least we can have that moment where Dean is un-Michaeled and tells Cas he’s going to shower and finger guns at him, and now we can have Cas wordlessly and furiously follow him. 

Season 14, we get Cas at Rocky’s bar confessing to Dean while figment!Pamela cheers the whole thing on. If there was EVER a time to use the power of love to snap Dean out of it, Cas upsetting his cosy routine with “this isn’t real, I’M NOT HERE IN YOUR FANTASY” is absolutely the time to pull a reverse crypt scene which has such low stakes in terms of neither of them needing to punch each other when Michael is an external aggressor.

My ONLY issue with this is that Sam has to witness the whole thing and we would get reaction shots and I am a weak mortal who will start cackling at them when I’m supposed to be having the transcendent moment of canon and the whole thing would be ruined just because of the way Jared gurns when doing reactions to dean n cas interacting. Wow thanks. Thanks a lot. 

[dotthings]

So here’s my thoughts on an alternate ending plan for S15. While the remade heaven was something that fit, very little else did, and if they were aiming for self-actualizations being fulfilled the ending didn’t convey that. It feels incomplete to me (I have posted enough analyzing why and that’s all I’ll say here). This is a more earth-bound take. An ending where all of TFW 2.0 defeat Chuck and are together and figuring out life free of Chuck’s maze. This also incorporates some of my previous meta spec that didn’t get addressed at all in the finale but things are left so ambiguous, I have no reason to think my spec can’t be canon now. Also I think if canon can screw things up this royally, then I’m allowed to state that my version is not only kinder, but makes more sense. I’m sure there is some loose end I’ve missed, and I’d want to have all the Wayward Sisters appear too. Gosh, endings are hard!

Envisioning this as one extra long episode. To be extra subversive I’m still using the start of ep 19, but mostly this diverges after the end of ep 18.

-the phone call from Cas in ep 19 isn’t a troll from Lucifer (Lucifer can stay trapped in The Empty for all eternity). It’s actually Cas.

Here’s what happened: The Empty took him, fulfilling Cas Jungian arc about confronting his shadow and instead of fighting it, accepting it as part of himself. Inside Cas, a soul has been growing for many seasons now. Spontaneous soul combustion. It started small and kept growing. The act of confessing his love to Dean was the final spark to complete the growth. As The Empty drags Cas away, Cas’s grace merges with his soul and the grace is the power jolt it needs to make his soul blaze to full life. His grace is effectively gone, burned out in the act of bring his soul into being. The Empty cannot hold him, his soul is pure, and he’s not filled with self-loathing. The Empty spits Cas out in Lawrence, KS because that’s where Cas’s soul home beaconed to. Effectively human, this process was fairly traumatizing to his body, so he’s weakened. He staggers across town to outside the bunker, calls Dean, and collapses. Dean (as we saw in ep 19) races up the stairs and reaches Cas first, but Sam isn’t far behind, and both boys help Cas down into the bunker. Dean, being Dean, can’t stop touching Cas. There’s some awkwardness after Cas’s confession but they aren’t going to talk about it yet. Dean’s just relieved to have Cas back

-Jack’s also overjoyed Cas is back. Cas explains to the fam what happened and that he has a soul now. This will change the dynamics of TFW interact, changes Cas’s demeanor slightly, and how Dean and Cas interact, but Cas’s personality is basically the same

-Michael sides with TFW. His decision to stand up to his father is sincere. There are Cas and Michael scenes where they start reaching some kind of understanding of each other’s pov

-There is a further scene showing Sam mourning the snapped Eileen, as he finds something that belongs to her in his room

-They hatch a plan to confront Chuck. Cas assumes he’ll be joining them but Dean balks because Cas is freshly human and not battle-ready. “You and Sam are human, and you’re going into battle” Cas argues. Dean’s not really being logical about this, so Dean and Cas bicker while Sam, Jack and Michael have to go guys? Guys? Evil god to stop? World to save? “Get a room,” Sam snaps.

-Dean wins the argument, mostly because Cas has to give in just so they don’t stay derailed. They proceed with Cas holding down the fort at the bunker in case they need a further spell or information from the MoL archives

-They confront Chuck at the beach. Following some parts of ep 19, Chuck starts pettily beating up Sam and Dean, who refuse to give up. Sam and Dean shoulder to shoulder, laughing at their enemy through their bloodied faces. (That was a good moment, I’ll keep that) Michael intervenes, Chuck tries to destroy him but Jack steps in. Chuck is fending both of them off for the moment. Kind of looks like Chuck might overpower all of them. He raises his fingers to snap them all away

and a familiar voice yells HEY ASSBUT. Cas hurls a magical molotov cocktail at Chuck. Because Cas he found a spell, and while the thing certainly won’t kill God, it certainly makes for a great distraction. Chuck’s body burns for a moment, and then the flames go out with Chuck unharmed. The distraction allows Michael to get the upper hand enough for Jack to grab Chuck and absorb his powers and render Chuck powerless. They all leave Chuck on the beach.

-Michael looks deeply amused by the cocktail. “At least you didn’t hurl it at me this time”

-unsnapped Adam switches in.

-Sam and Dean look beat to hell. Cas says something sad about how at one point he could have healed them with a touch but he can’t now and Sam and Dean reassure him it’s fine. Cas asks Jack to heal them and Jack says he’s going non-intervention God and yeets. Sam, Dean, and Cas seem taken aback by this move and their son vanishing into thin air

-Michael switches back in and offers to heal them but Sam and Dean refuse again. Cas rolls his eyes. Typical Winchesters.

-Sam calls Eileen. “Eileen, are you okay?” All is well. Dean checks on Jody and the girls. They’re fine. Everyone unsnapped.

-Adam switches in again to say goodbye but maybe see you soon, shakes hands with Sam and Dean. A promise of maybe someday they could figure out how to be family. “Where you headed to now?” Dean asks. “Around, I guess,” says Adam, and then Michael switches back in and says “the french fries on earth are worth hanging around for a bit” and Michael yeets out.

-They won. They’re free. Chuck’s defeated, Jack is going to be a new, uncorrupted God. But wait, there’s still half an hour left, what’s left to resolve? What else could there be?

-We get a montage. Sam and Dean continue to hunt, the bruises and cuts on their faces from the battle with Chuck fading. A scene of Dean giving Cas shooting pointers and Cas is a pretty decent shot but maybe he should hold the shotgun a bit higher. Dean sure does keep touching Cas a lot when it’s not necessary. They still haven’t talked. Sam doing laundry. Dean studying a job application at the desk in his room. The bruises and cuts from their fight with Chuck are almost gone. Eileen hanging out in the bunker, she and Sam doing research at the library table, laughing as Sam makes a joke.

-Sam, Dean, and Cas get wind of ghoul activity and set out on a hunt together. Dean and Cas are waiting together, leaning against the Impala, while Sam is inside a gas station getting them all snacks.

Dean: Are you okay with this? Human...forever?

Cas: I’m adjusting. Rather enjoy being able to taste the pb&j again.

*Awkward silence*

Dean: Cas—what you said—I—

Cas: It’s all right Dean. You don’t have to say anything. I told you, it’s not about the having, it’s—

Cas doesn’t get to finish the sentence because suddenly Dean’s holding his face in his hands and then leans in and kisses him.

Dean pulls back, staring right at Cas’s stunned pikachu face.

Dean: What makes you think you didn’t already have me?

They hold each other. Sometimes it’s not in the saying it’s in the actions.

Sam, who just emerged from the gas’n sip station, stands there holding packets of junk food and yells “FINALLY!” and Dean and Cas jump apart. Dean is beet-red but both Dean and Cas look happier, more peaceful than we’ve seen them look in a very long while.

-Standard hunt. They kill some ghouls, badass Team Free Will action scene. Cas gets taken off guard, but Sam has his back.

-Back at the bunker. Sam answers a text from Eileen—they’re meeting up next week.

-Sam, Dean, Cas are in the bunker having dinner when Jack randomly appears. Raises his hand. “Hello!” They’re all startled, but tell Jack they miss him. “You don’t write, you don’t call,” Dean complains. “Well,” Jack says. “I figured just because I’m non-interventionist doesn’t mean I can’t stop by for dinner once in a while.” “Darn right,” says Dean.

-TFW 2.0 have dinner together. Jack mentions he remade heaven, no more barriers. Released trapped souls like Kevin’s to heaven. New set of rules. Mentions he met with Rowena. They’re working out a better system. Reform.

“I would have gotten rid of the monsters,” Jack explains, “but can’t do it without upsetting the natural order of things—what’s done is done. The alternative is to reset everything. I won’t do that. Too much would be undone, too much good lost.” The implication is also: while he won’t intervene and be the God perching on Team Free Will’s shoulder, he also can’t bring himself to do anything that will undo them. “Sometimes it’s all worth putting up with a few monsters,” Sam says.

Jack vanishes again. “Guess we’ll get used to that eventually” says Dean.

-very last shot. It’s dusk, outside the bunker. Sam and Dean leaning on the Impala, watching fireflies, drinking beers. Not talking, just being.

Dean: We did it.

Sam: We did it.

Dean: Well, here’s to freedom.

They toast their beer bottles. Both look more peaceful than we have seem them look in a very long time.

Overhead shot of Sam and Dean, the Impala, the bunker.

*Kansas version of Carry On, Wayward Son plays*

[holylulusworld]

Give a little bit of your heart to me

Summary: Dean wanted a bit of your heart; you gave him it all only to feel it breaking.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Reader, Mobster!John x Reader (platonic)

Character: Ellen Harvelle, Ruby, Sam Winchester

Warning: arranged marriage, angst, mentions of divorce, pregnant reader, comforting, remorse, fluff, misunderstandings

‘Give a little bit, give a little bit of your heart to me,’ back then you smiled at Dean’s words, knowing he got forced into this marriage too. Your father and John Winchester wanted to form a strong bond between the two mightiest empires, so you and John’s eldest had to marry.

You had not seen Dean for a lifetime, but you still remembered the funny, cocky, and green-eyed boy with so many freckles you could never count them.

A tiny piece of your heart always beat for him, so it was easy for you to give Dean not only a little bit of your heart but the whole damn beating thing. Now it is a broken mess, a bleeding pulp that will never heal.

“I’ll pack as fast as possible, John,” your voice broken, defeated you place the golden band, and your engagement ring into his hand. “I know it was an arranged marriage, but I thought after five years I know your son.”

“Y/N,” murmuring your name John watches you subconsciously rub your belly. “Do you have to tell me anything, doll?”

“Your son is a lying son of bitch who just left me,” you huff, walking toward the house you shared with Dean. 

“I will go and tell my father the arrangement is over, John. You will have to clarify the details as daddy will get mad,” you flinch at the thought of facing your father. “You don’t want to see him mad, John.”

“Doll, wait,” sighing John grasps your wrist. “I know about the baby and can’t let you leave. It’s my grandchild, my heir.” Your stomach tightens looking up at John. “Your life, it never was yours in the first place, Y/N. I’ll give you all you need, but you have to stay and raise your child as a Winchester.”

“I can’t,” voice cracking you blink the tears away. “I should leave before Dean returns.”

You would run away, hide somewhere but honestly, you have got nowhere to go. Not with John Winchester wanting your child and your father insisting on a bond with Dean.

“This is my house, my manor, not Dean’s. You will move into my part of the house and Dean will shut his mouth. When he comes back, I will set him straight,” John slings his arm around your shoulders, not missing the hopelessness in your eyes when you agree to follow him.

“It’s not as if I got anywhere to go, John. At least you will get what you always wanted, an heir for your empire,” you whisper bitterly, missing John’s pained expression when tears roll down your cheeks. “As you said, my life never was mine.”

“You said I can divorce her after five years! I want to be free again, Sir,” Dean yells. “I was the perfect husband and partner. I played my part, now play yours,” his words make your legs wobble and fresh tears run down your cheeks.

Dean lied. This whole time he made you believe he loves you too. Façade. Charade. A foul play, that is what you are to him. He made a deal and now he wants out.

“John, let him out,” your voice meek, thin, and all the fight gone from your eyes you rub your arms nervously. “If he wants out, let him out.”

“See, she doesn’t want to stay married either,” Dean wants to touch your arm to thank you for your words, but you flinch away, jerking your arm out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” your voice cracks now but you fight the tears. “You want to be free, be free. Lucky you, Dean. I never had a chance and are stuck here as…,” you run away before you tell Dean about the baby, his baby.

“What’s wrong with her?” John shakes his head at his son’s behavior. “Father, why did Y/N look as if she’s hurt? I thought she didn’t want this marriage.”

“You really are a blind, my son. I suggest you’ll leave her alone and turn your attention toward the girl you want to leave Y/N for,” walking away John leaves his son alone with his thoughts.

“I thought she wanted to divorce too, Sir. Wait, hey, wait up,” Dean jogs after his father grasping for John’s wrist. “Talk to me.”

“I want you to take care of Crowley, Dean. You’ll be out of town for a month or two and can rethink your decision,” John sighs deeply. “If you still want to divorce Y/N I will not stop you. I’ll take care of the mess you left, as always.”

Dean did not say goodbye before he left to deal with Crowley. To be honest, it would have been too hard to see rejection, maybe even triumph in his eyes.

“He’ll be back in a month or two, Y/N. Enough time for him to come to his mind and realize what he’s about to lose,” you nod, what else can you do when the most powerful and dangerous mobster tells you his opinion.

“I will go to my room, goodnight John,” watching you leave John hates he has to force you to stay but with your father insisting on not breaking the bond he’s got no other choice than to protect his heir, the future of his empire.

Three weeks passed without a word from Dean, not that you believed he would at least call to tell you he’s alright. While you lie on the bed in the room John offered to you, the door opens once again.

Over the last weeks, John took care of you, watched over you like a mother hen, not that you would ever dare to call the mobster like that.

“You need to eat something, doll. Ellen made chicken, peas, carrots, and mashed potatoes.”

“I am not hungry, or rather the moment I eat anything I have to run to the bathroom. Breakfast ended up in the toilette, just like the apple I ate,” you do not turn around, not wanting John to stay longer than needed.

“Listen, I know this is a fucked-up situation, but you’ll get up, have a shower, and come to join me in my living room. We can watch one of those movies Dean hates so much,” John sits onto your bed, gently patting your hand. “Mary, she had problems with Dean too. I made her fennel tea.”

You would laugh about John acting like a nurse, but you know he means well, tries to make the best out of a bad situation. “Okay, I’ll be there after a shower.”

“If you need anything else, tell me or Ellen so,” you nod, glancing at John who places your wedding band and engagement ring onto the nightstand. “I am sure, when Dean comes back he’ll apologize, Y/N.”

You nod silently, knowing John is wrong about Dean. Your husband does not give a shit on you, to be honest…

“Better,” while you sip on the fennel tea John insisted to make you nod, faking it did make you feel better. “Just relax and watch, uh-erm,” glancing at the movie John rubs his scruffy chin. “What are we watching?”

“I don’t know,” mumbling the words you look at the huge TV, not following the story at all. “I just zapped around and ended up watching that movie. She looked pretty in her wedding dress, though.”

“Y/N, you need to stop acting as if you are a prisoner or worse. I know you believe I want you to stay because of the baby inside your belly, and I want you to but,” John wraps one arm around your shoulders, letting you rest your head against his shoulder, “I want to keep you safe.”

“Dad would get mad when he gets to know I made Dean leave. He would believe I manipulated our marriage to get out or something similar, John. My family is not used to give comfort. They are all hard, calculated, and power-hungry,” you glance at your belly, slowly rubbing it. 

“You’re showing,” John covers your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Just a little but I see the difference.”

“You mean I got fat,” giggling you blink the tears away. “There is no reason for Dean to like me, you know. I guess, he had to imagine someone else to get intimate with me. I am such a fool…”

“Doll, get down here and join us for dinner,” John grumbles when you refuse to come down to eat with Sam, Ruby, Ellen, and John.

“No! Nothing fits any longer, John. I look like a wale!” You yell back. “I will not go downstairs wearing a too-tight dress or crap!”

“Jesus, Y/N. You are three months pregnant, not a wale. Come downstairs or I’ll send Sam to drag you down or Ruby,” Ruby glares at John, pointing her knife at the mobster. 

“I am not a threat,” she grunts, watching you slowly pat down the stairs. “There she is! A pretty mama!”

“A wale,” grumbling you walk toward the table in a too-tight shirt and shorts which do not cover your belly. You baby bump peeks out of the shirt and John smirks, holding back a chuckle as you glare at him.

“You look beautiful, doll. Now sit, eat and we can talk about baby names,” John pulls your chair, smirking as you wiggle on the seat to get comfortable.

“How about Dexter,” Ruby smirks watching you narrow your eyes.

“Samuel?” Sam tries and you toss a napkin at the tall mobster who grins at you.

“John Winchester Jr.,” John exclaims, and you groan, hiding your face in the palms of your hands. “J. Jr.,” he tries again, and you shake your head silently.

“John Henry Winchester,” not giving in John tries to convince you but you stay adamant. “It’s a great name for your baby.”

“Not for a girl, John!” You grunt and everyone cheers at the table as you finally told them the gender. “You son of a bitch!” Head snapping upward you purse your lips when John gives you a grin. 

“That’s my line, sweetheart,” Dean snickers, waltzing into the room. If it’s possible for him to look even better after three months he does look better. His hair longer, chin scruffy and his eyes sparkling he looks around the room. “What? No welcome back?”

“Welcome back, son. How were the deal, Mexico, and the weather?” John clears his throat when you silently get up to leave the room. “Y/N, you didn’t eat anything. Stay.”

“I lost my appetite, John. I’ll sleep a bit or whatever,” voice trembling you rush out of the room, not caring John calls your name repeatedly.

“Did I just kill the mood,” Dean blinks a few times, glancing at his family. “What did I do?”

“Uh-let’s start with you leaving your wife. You not calling for over three months or the fact you want to divorce her,” Ruby deadpans. “Maybe her current state makes her even more vulnerable.”

“Current state? Is she sick?” Dean gasps, glancing at the untouched food. “Why did she ran upstairs? Our bedroom is opposite.”

“She lives in John’s guest wing as you wanted her to leave, dude,” Sam grits out. “What did you believe would happen? That Y/N would wait for you to kick her out.”

“I just,” sighing Dean drops his bags before he walks toward the stairs. “I got to talk to her. I mean, she’s my wife, right?”

John rolls his eyes, close to saying something he will regret. “Not for much longer. You are back, you still want to divorce her so I can marry her,” John lies, a dirty grin on his lips. “I’d like to have a younger wife.”

“You, what?” Choking on his words Dean balls his hands into fists. “You said I shall think about divorce, not that you would ram your teeth into my wife!”

“Ex-wife, Dean. If you want out of this marriage, I will not stop you but,” John smirks devilish, “someone has to take care of Y/N and her needs.”

“If you touched my wife I’ll castrate you,” Dean threatens, bumping his chest against John’s. “I thought she wants out of the marriage. I never said I will let you touch my girl, you vulture. Go and get a random girl. This one is mine.”

Dean storms off, still cursing when the door slams shut behind him with a loud bang. “I should’ve said something sooner,” John snickers. “I woke the alpha. Imagine what he’ll do hearing she’s having his baby.”

“You’re the devil, John Winchester,” Ellen laughs at Ruby’s words, nodding eagerly. “I like your style, sometimes.”

“Son of a bitch, Y/N! Did he touch you? Did my fath…,” Dean’s eyes widen, his jaw goes slack, and you can see the color drain from his face when you step into the bedroom, showing off your baby bump. “Y/N,…sweetheart?”

“What brought you here, Dean? Do I have to sign the papers,” you sigh, sitting onto the bed, not meeting Dean’s gaze. “I think John prepared everything. We only have to sign the papers and you can go to that girl you want.”

“There is no girl, Y/N,” mumbling the words Dean kneels in front of the bed, not taking his eyes from your swollen belly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks up at you, searching your face.

“You wanted out of this marriage. It thought you wouldn’t care or worse,” you huff, grabbing the blanket to cover your body. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I am trapped to stay here. John’s order. You can go and party or whatever you planned to do without me dragging you down.”

“Sweetheart,” his hand trembles when he moves it under the blanket to touch your bump. “My baby is inside your belly. I never thought I’ll be a father one day.”

“Dean, you are free to go and leave this to me,” not wanting to see him pity you, you scramble away, crawling toward the pillow to sleep the hurting off. “Leave me alone and got to that girl.”

“I told you, there is no other girl, Y/N,” Dean sounds angry when he kicks his shoes off, crawling onto the bed to lie next to you. He’s burying his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. “You smell like vanilla and lilac. I’ve missed your scent, your soft skin, your lips on mine.”

“Sure,” you grunt, angrily clenching your fists. “That’s the reason you did not call and gave a shit on me for three months, Dean.”

“Y/N, I was kinda undercover to find out what’s Crowley planning. I could not call my wife or crap. I had to be as invisible as possible,” he’s moving closer to wrap his arms around your waist. “I swear, I wanted freedom for you, nothing else.”

“You wanted my heart, and I gave it to you only to get hurt,” Dean listens to your words, hating he made you feel that way. “I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. Let me make it right.”

“How? By pretending you love me too,” you huff, turning in his embrace to slap his face. “I am done listening to your lies.”

“Love? You love me,” Dean scoots closer to cup your face, ignoring your angry look. “Fuck me,” his lips press against yours and you must use all your strength to break free.

“What the fuck Dean!”

“My wife loves me,” he smirks, glancing at your belly, “and I knocked her up. Now back to my father touching you.”

“Gosh, John would never touch me, not that this is any of your business, Winchester.” You glare at Dean when he tries to touch your belly. 

“I am sorry, Y/N. I promise to be the husband you deserve if you give me the chance to. I know asking for divorce without talking to you was stupid, but I thought you want out,” Dean pecks your lips, rubbing your belly slowly. “I heard you talking to Ruby and wanted to let you go.”

“I don’t understand, Dean. I never said I want out of our marriage. I said I want to get out of this house,” you groan, frustrated.

“Exactly!”

“I didn’t want to live with your father, brother, and their girlfriends. I wanted a place of our own, Dean.” Dean starts laughing, even throws his head back.

“I guess next time I should listen closely,” he is rubbing your belly, smiling as you cover his hand with yours. “I don’t want out of this marriage, Y/N.”

“Is that a lie again or can I have a little bit of your heart too?” Dean pecks your lips, gently stroking your cheek. “Sweetheart, you can have the whole damn thing…”

Part 2

SPN Forever Tags

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--------------------------------------

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

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@myopiamystical​​​​

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@isthatabutterfly​

@bluecornflowers​​​​

@rosalynshields​​​​

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

[petrichoravellichor]

What We Deserve

Written for Day 14 of the Supernatural Deserved Better Creative Challenge (prompt: free will).

Relationships: Adam Milligan/Michael, minor Adam Milligan & Sam Winchester

Rating: T

Warnings: n/a

Summary:  After helping the Winchesters defeat Chuck, Michael avoids Adam until one day, Adam seeks him out; OR, the soft, angst-with-a-happy-ending epilogue these two deserved, damn it.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

In the days after his brothers beat God, Adam tried many times to talk to Michael, only to have Michael push him away.

“Leave me,” he said finally, not meeting Adam’s eyes. “I don’t...I wish to be alone.” Then he vanished to some far corner of Adam’s mind, and nothing Adam said made any difference.

“I’m worried about him,” he confided to Sam, after two weeks of radio silence. “I know he’s still there; I can feel him.” Adam sighed, leaning back against the park bench he and Sam were sitting on. “He just won’t talk to me.”

“Maybe he just needs some space,” Sam offered gently. “What he did, standing up to his dad like that, watching Jack drain Chuck’s powers, it couldn’t have been easy. He’s probably still trying to process it.” A beat, then: “Has he said anything about going back to Heaven?”

Adam shook his head. “No, not since I got back. He’s hardly said anything, and it’s...” he hesitated, weighing various words and eventually opting for, “weird. For the longest time, we only had each other, and now it’s like I’m a stranger to him. It just doesn’t make sense, you know?”

He knew, of course, that Sam didn’t know, not really. How could he? No one who hadn’t spent the Earth equivalent of over a thousand years locked inside their own mind with only one other being for company could even begin to understand what it was like to suddenly feel like half a person when said being went quiet.

Still, he also knew that Sam was trying. He’d made a point to keep up regular contact with Adam since Jack had brought everyone back, as had Dean; but whereas Dean was usually keen to avoid acknowledging the proverbial archangel-shaped elephant in the room, Sam, at least, had been willing to listen. It didn’t fix what was broken between them, not by a longshot; but for now, at least, Adam just wanted to move forward as best he could with the family he had left, even if things were complicated.

“You know him best,” Sam said finally, “and from what I saw that time at the Bunker, you can get through to him even when he’s done listening to everyone else, so...just keep trying, I guess, and see what happens. Hopefully, he’ll come around.”

When nearly another week had passed with not even a mental peep from Michael, however, Adam decided that enough was enough. Michael could yell at him if he wanted to, but Adam would make him do it to his face...or at least, to his brain’s manifestation of his face. He lay down on his motel bed and closed his eyes, focusing carefully until he found the part of his mind that wasn’t quite his own and leaning into it.

Suddenly, he was standing in the woods at sunset, pine trees stretched tall on either side and a crystal lake sparkling in front of him. Adam surveyed the area curiously, wondering what made the place so significant that Michael would seek it out, when suddenly his eyes lit upon scorch marks and the remnants of some sort of spell, and the pieces clicked together: this must be the clearing where Michael had joined Sam and Dean in their final battle against Chuck.

No sooner had the realization occurred to him than he spotted a lone figure by the lakeshore; it was Michael. He was sitting on the ground, looking small and almost human-like with his knees pulled up against his chest, his back to Adam as he stared out over the water, apparently lost in thought. Adam took a deep breath, steeling his nerves for what he was pretty sure was going to be an argument, and headed over.

“Hey, Michael?” he called softly as he drew near. “Are you okay?”

Michael turned to look over his shoulder. Adam had been prepared for annoyance, even anger; what he hadn’t expected was anguish. Michael’s eyes were red rimmed and watery, and the gilded glow of dusk made shimmers of his tears; he looked, if not broken, just about to break. “I told you,” Michael said, voice rough and raw, “to leave me alone.”

For a moment, Adam wondered if he should. His goal had been to make sure Michael was all right, not to intrude upon a moment of private grief. And yet, now that he’d actually seen Michael, the thought of leaving him in his current state was not only unconscionable but downright unthinkable. Adam shook his head and continued forward, determined. “No,” he said, taking a seat on the ground at Michael’s side. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and I’ve had enough. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to; we can just sit here.” He met Michael’s gaze and continued, more gently, “But I’m done leaving you alone. Got it?”

Michael stared at him, expression unreadable; then he nodded slowly, turning back to look out at the lake.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, till the last of the pink and gold light had faded and the sky became a star-splashed indigo lit by a silvery moon. Adam’s eyelids grew heavy in the stillness, and he was just shy of falling asleep when:

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

Adam started, eyes snapping open; he turned to look at Michael and saw the other staring forward as though in a daze. “What wasn’t?” Adam asked.

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched up in a mirthless smile. “Everything. I was supposed to defeat my brother, and my Father was supposed to usher in a new age of Paradise. Instead, He…” Michael trailed off, looked down at his hands, and repeated, “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

Adam hesitated, then scooted sideways till their arms were touching. Michael glanced up, apparently surprised by the sudden contact, but he didn’t pull away; Adam took that as a sign to continue. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I mean, I’m not sorry the world didn’t end, but the part with your dad...I know what it’s like to get screwed over by family. It sucks. Like, a lot. And I just...I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, so instead, he wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders, hoping the touch would do what words couldn’t.

He felt Michael stiffen, and for a split second, Adam worried he’d overstepped; but just as he was about to pull away, Michael relaxed against him with a quiet sigh. “Thank you,” said Michael softly. “This is...Thank you.”

Adam shrugged, grateful for the pale wash of moonlight; the blush he could feel would be painfully obvious otherwise. “Yeah,” he managed. “Of course. You’re welcome. It’s what friends are for.”

Michael looked at him strangely then, and Adam got the distinct impression he’d caught Michael by surprise. “You would have me as a...friend?”

I would have you as anything, thought Adam, just as long as I get to have you. “Well, yeah,” he said instead, managing a weak smile. “You’re kinda the only one I’ve got.”

Michael studied him, brow still furrowed slightly, as though Adam were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. Then, before Adam realized what was happening, Michael leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. A tingling warmth spread throughout Adam’s entire body, and he gasped. Michael pulled back at the sound, eyes wide with concern. “Was that...unwelcome?”

Adam shook his head. “No,” he said quickly. “No, it’s just...you surprised me, is all. It was nice.” He tried to will his heartbeat down to a more reasonable rate, reminding himself that it wasn’t like he was an expert on angel behavior. After all, he really only knew Michael, and he’d only seen him interact with other angels during moments of battle. For all Adam knew, forehead kissing was just something angels did with their friends, and it wasn’t a big deal.

Thankfully, Michael just nodded, seeming to accept Adam’s words at face value. “Good,” he said, sounding like he meant it; and then he lay back against the ground, folding his arms behind his head to gaze up at the stars. Adam hesitated, part of him wanting to bid Michael goodnight and get the hell out of there while he still had at least some of his dignity intact, but instead he found himself copying Michael’s pose, leaning back until they lay next to each other like two parallel lines.

For a long time, they were silent. Adam pondered the night sky, nearly forgetting that they were still in his head as he picked out familiar constellations. He wondered if Michael had been there when the originals were made, or if maybe Michael had made the originals himself. He was about to ask when he heard Michael say softly, almost as though he were thinking aloud, “Did I do the right thing?”

Adam glanced over, not sure what Michael was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“With God.” Michael looked at him, expression laced with doubt and something else Michael couldn’t quite read. “How do I know the choice I made was the right one?”

Adam shifted onto his side to face Michael fully. “Do you regret it?”

“No. But neither did my Father regret the choices he made.”

“No, but I’ll bet he never questioned them, either.”

Michael was quiet for a moment, considering. “No,” he agreed at last, “I don’t think he did.”

“He chose to send everyone in the world away. You chose to stand against him to bring them back. Billions of people are alive because of you. It was the right call.”

For several seconds, Michael didn’t respond, and Adam thought their conversation was over; then, in a voice so quiet Adam nearly missed it: “That isn’t why I did it.”

Adam frowned. “It isn’t? I...What do you mean?”

Michael sighed; he rolled to his side so their bodies mirrored each other, gazing at Adam intently. “I told you, that day in the Bunker, that though you and I had been together for years, my Father and I had been together for eternity, and as such, He would always take precedence over you.”

Adam nodded, biting his lip against the sudden hurt in his chest. He remembered the exchange vividly; Michael’s words had hit him like a slap to the face. It wasn’t exactly a novel sensation, being made to feel he wasn’t good enough. His father hadn’t been there for him growing up, and his brothers had left him to rot in Hell for over a decade. Even Michael had only chosen him because Dean had been unavailable. Adam knew that, he knew all of it, and yet...and yet somewhere between falling into Hell and walking out of it, he’d let himself start to think that maybe, just maybe, he actually mattered to someone for once. Michael could have left him the moment they were free, but he’d chosen to stay, and Adam...he’d wanted to believe that had meant something, but apparently it hadn’t. He’d been—

“I was wrong,” said Michael, softly, and Adam almost forgot how to breathe; it took him a moment to find his voice.

“You...were?”

“Yes.” Michael looked down. “I—You must understand: for as long as I had existed, my loyalty—my undying loyalty—had been to my Father. He gave me orders and I obeyed them without question, because to question them would have been to question Him, and to question Him would have been to question everything. And so when Castiel...when he showed me what God truly was, for the first time in my life, I was lost. Heaven was in shambles. My brothers were dead. My Father had...used me; he’d taken everything from me. I was angry. I gave your brother and Castiel the spell to bind Him because I was angry, and when they failed, I avoided them because I was angry. All I had left, all I knew, was you.” Michael hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was heavy with pain: “And then He took you away as well. For the first time in over a thousand years, I was completely alone, and...and it was the most incomplete I’d ever felt, and I didn’t know what it meant.”

Adam swallowed; he didn’t know what to say, could only stare.

Michael continued without looking up: “And so when your brothers found me again, I decided to help them, not out of anger or because I cared about the rest of the world, but because it was what you’d asked of me when your brothers first came to us, only I hadn’t listened, not fully. I knew that to stand in open defiance against my Father was to very likely forfeit my own life, but I didn’t care, because it didn’t matter. Nothing did, except you, and the chance, however small, that I might get you back. That is why I chose as I did, and I don’t regret it, not at all, and…” Michael finally met Adam’s gaze, fresh tears in his eyes and something akin to terror on his face, “and I don’t know what that means.”

By then, Adam’s face was wet with tears of his own, but he didn’t care, because what Michael was saying...Adam did matter to him, had mattered more than God. And maybe Michael didn't know what that meant, but…

Adam shifted forward, closing the distance between them. “I think I do,” he whispered, and before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Michael's lips, hoping desperately that he hadn’t misread the situation. When he pulled back, Michael's eyes were wide, and oh God, Adam wanted to shrivel up on the spot. He opened his mouth to apologize...but before he could, Michael was kissing him, and it was so slow and deep and reverent that Adam felt sure he'd have floated away if Michael’s arms hadn’t held him firmly in place.

When at last they pulled apart, Michael was gazing back at him in open wonder. “You...I’ve never...What is this?” he asked, voice tinged with awe.

Adam let out a soft laugh, trying to catch his breath. He reached up to cup Michael’s cheek. “It’s me saying I choose you, too. I thought there was no way you could ever want me like this, but if you do—”

“I do." Michael's hand came up to caress Adam's cheek in return. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Then you’ll stay?” Adam whispered, and Michael nodded, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

“Yes,” he murmured solemnly. “Yes, I will stay. Where you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people.” He pressed a careful kiss to the corner of Adam’s mouth, adding, “And your love, my love.” Then he kissed Adam again, soft and achingly tender, wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist and pulling him close till they were pressed together from head to toe, and it was impossible to say where one ended and the other began.

And Adam loved him, God did he love him, because Michael was comfort and safety and home. For the first time in a long time, Adam felt home; he felt loved. And he'd never feel like half a person again.

********************

Note: The last part of Michael's dialogue is an adaptation of Ruth 1:16: "But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.'"

Michael, wayward archangel that he is, replaces "God" with "love." 💙

[themarvel-spnmultifanwriter]

Could you possibly do an end!verse au where Castiel had a thing with the reader since the beginning of the apocalypse? Where Castiel survives the suicide mission but finds the reader dead?

Hey, yes sure! Thank you so much for the request!

Suicide mission

Pairing: Castiel x Reader x Sam x Dean, Zachariah, Adam

Warnings: sad, mention of blood, fight, violence, mention of suicide/death

Word Count: 2,2k

Y/n's pov:

Castiel zaped us all to a derelict industrial property. I looked around the area to figure out where we were. I was confused.

"Where's the beautiful room?" Dean asked. Castiel pointed to the neglected building.

"In there" he said.

"The beautiful room is in an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys, California??" I asked surprised. Castiel chuckled.

"Yes. What were you expecting?" he asked me with a smile. The smile I loved about him. Cas and I have been dating since the beginning of the apocalypse. Fighting monsters and trying to stop his two brothers had brang us together. The angel got so close to me that I was constantly afraid of losing him.

"I don't know," I shrugged my shoulders. "Jupiter? A blade of grass? But... Van Nuys?" Dean and Sam laughed. I've been travelling with the Winchesters for a while. They're like family to me. They both see me as their little sister.

When first starting to date Castiel, Sam and Dean sent me to a hunt with Bobby. Later, I found out they only did it so they could talk to Castiel. More scare him. I could imagine Dean holding a blade to Cas and telling him he'd hunt him down, if Cas dared hurting me. When Cas told me about it he looked terrified and me laughing about it wasn't helping in any way.

"Anyways, why can't you just zap inside the building? Wouldn't that be a lot easier?" I asked. Cas pointed at the building.

"Because," Cas began while he removed his tie. "There are at least five angles in there. Our only shot is me going in there first"

"You think you can fight of five angels?" Sam asked. Iooked at Cas with a questioning look as to ask why he was taking his clothes of. Cas took a knife from Dean

"I will make them vanish with an angel-banishing sigil on my body"

"You do realise that's basically suicide?" Dean pointed out.

""Maybe it is, but then I won't have to watch you fail. Sorry Dean, but I don't have the same faith in you that Sam and y/n do. " Cas said and began to carve the signal in his body.

"Cas please," I said as I took the angels hand. "I don't want you to go in there. I can't lose you. Dean is right, this is suicide! What am I supposed to do without you?"

"Going inside to Zachariah might be too" Cas said but soon realised that this wasn't the best answer. "I will be fine I promise. And I will come back to you. I won't leave you alone" he pulled me clothes and kissed my lips. I tried to hold back the tears that formed in my eyes. Why did it feel like this was the last kiss? I didn't want it to end. It felt like the good bye I didn't want to give him. But we couldn't lose time.

I gave Cas a nod and he finished the signil on his body. Then, he put on his clothes again. Before he went inside he took my hands and looked me deep inside the eyes.

"I will see you again. I promise," he said and vanished.

Castiel's pov:

I zapped inside the warehouse. There was a dilapidated shed in the center of it. I went to the door, but before I could reach it one of my brothers appeared behind me.

I heard the sound of an angel blade and turned around, ducking in the same moment. The blade failed just for a few inches. I took my own blade and stabbed my brother with it. There was a glow before his vessel fell to the ground.

Four more angles came in. They heard me. They all carried angel blades and pointed them at my while encircling me. I dropped my blade.

"What are you waiting for? C'mon" I said. They stepped towards me, but before any of their weapons could reach me I opened my shirt and touched the symbol that was carved into my vessel Jimmy. There was a light glow. The four angels dissappeared. But in the same moment I felt a pain, like a burn and also I started glowing before I vanished from the warehouse.

Y/n's pov:

I was standing outside the warehouse with Sam and Dean. We were listening so we would know when to enter. I heard the familiar sound of angels being banished. A tear left my eye as I knew Cas was gone.

"He will come back," Sam said and gave me a hug. He wiped my tear away and I gave him a nod as to say I was fine.

"Okay, let's go inside," Dean opened the door. Me and Sam followed him. We passed the room with angel wings shadows on the wall. One of them was Cas' wings. There was a pain inside my chest, but I had to stay strong. We were about to face Zachariah and try to get Adam out of the beautiful room. I needed to focus.

Dean opened the door to the beautiful room and we found Adam inside of it on the ground. We reached for him and he looked at us surprised.

"You came for me," Adam said and looked at us shocked.

"You're family," Dean said and helped Adam up.

"Dean this is a trap set up for you. We gotta get out of-" Adam said but before he could finish, Zachariah appeared in front of us.

"Dean, please. Did you really think it was going to be that easy?" Zachariah said.

"Did you?" Dean replied.

Sam ran up behind Zachariah with an angel blade but he got thrown at the wall immediately. I looked at Sam who was in pain. The angel blade was lying in front of him. Zachariah turned back to Dean, he seemed to ignore me and I wondered if he even noticed me yet. But I saw my chance in it.

"Dean, the one thing I've learned from dealing with you is that patience is important" Zachariah made a movement with his hand and Adam fell to the ground and started coughing. He began to throw up blood. I went over to Sam and took the angel blade, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"I knew things would play out perfectly. I have to admit, throughout I had my doubts. But it was right to trust the bossman. He knew it would come to this moment all along"

I was behind Zachariah and went closer to him, having a tight grip on the angel blade and pointing it at Zachariah.

"There is one thing though I never understood-"

I ran up to the asshole of an angel and was about to stap him, but he turned around and grabbed my arm with the angel blade. The pain of his grib made me drop the weapon and I tried to jerk away but he had me in his grib. I couldn't go anywhere.

"-I never quite got what you unimportant little human where doing along with the Winchesters" Zachariah took an angel blade himself and stabbed me. I felt it slide inside my stomach and an instant pain was in my body. He pulled the blade out and blood began to pour out. I could hear Dean yelling "no" and felt my body wanting to collapse, but Zachariah's grib wouldn't allow it. "Did you really thing a worthless little human creature like you could beat me? Did you really think you could stop any of this? NO! You may have turned one of our soldiers against us, but you are nothing after all and your pathetic attempt of killing me is ridiculous so you will die in shame"

He let go of me and I collapsed to the ground. I heard Dean and Zachariah talking, but the words weren't clear. My body was dying, stopping to work and my sensen were weaker and weaker. The whole room got blurry and I took some last breaths before I stood next to my body and went to hell.

Dean's pov:

"No!" I yelled as y/n got strapped and I wanted to reach her, but I couldn't move as Zachariah had pinned me against a wall.

"Did you really thing a worthless little human creature like you could beat me? Did you really think you could stop any of this? NO!" Zachariah yelled at y/n. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kick this angel ass and make him pay for hurting y/n. "You may have turned one of our soldiers against us, but you are nothing after all and your pathetic attempt of killing me is ridiculous so you will die in shame"

He left y/n's body to die and looked at Sam next. With a hand movement he did something to Sam who was now crawled up in pain. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take seeing Sam dying too.

"Please no! Don't hurt him too" I begged.

"In exchange for what?" Zachariah asked and made the pain worse with a movement of his hand.

"Damn it, Zachariah, stop it, please! I'll do it!" I said. "the answer is yes"

I could see Sam's disappointed look. But what should I do? Letting him die?

"Dean no!! " Sam yelled but was shut down by Zachariah.

"Call Michael," I said. A huge grin formed on Zachariah's face and he called for Michael.

Sam looked at me in shock. The room started to shake. I smiled at Sam with a wink to give him to understand that I wasn't letting them win.

"Michael is now on his way" Zachariah said.

"Of course I have a few conditions" I turned to him. I explained that I wanted a guarantee of the safety of a few people and them to bring y/n back.

"Oh she's gone. We can't bring her back. She's already in hell"

"But you brought me back?" I argued.

"Do you know what it took us to bring you back? We can't do that again" Zachariah said. I was mad at the angel as he turned away from me.

"There is one more thing.. Michael can't have me until he disintegrates you." I said. Zachariah wouldn't believe that his brother would kill him. "I'm more important to Michael than you are"

"You are nothing but a maggot, inside a worm's ass! Do you know who I am? After I deliver you to Michael?" Zachariah said as he grabbed me by the collar. "Michael would never kill me for you"

"Maybe not. But I will" I took an angel blade out of my jacket and stabbed Zachariah with it.

I reached for Adam and Sam and tried to get them out of the shaking room. I pulled Sam out and was about to reach for Adam's hand when the door closed and trapped him inside...

Castiel's pov:

Somehow I survived the suicide mission. I knew I had to go back to Sam, Dean and y/n. I needed to check on my girl to make sure she was alright. I went back to the warehouse and I found Sam and Dean walking outside. But y/n was missing?

"Sam! Dean!" I said as I went to the Winchesters.

"Cas hey! You are still alive" Dean pointed out.

"I made a promise that I would come back" I said. "Where is y/n anyways?"

Neither Sam or Dean was answering. They were both looking to the ground, sadness written on their faces.

"Cas y/n... She..." Sam said but he couldn't finish the sentence. I still knew what he meant but I couldn't believe it.

"No!" I said and took a few steps back.

"Cas she didn't make it" Dean said. I shook my head.

"No! No she isn't! Y/n is strong! She's a fighter! She. She"

"I'm so sorry Cas. She meant a lot to all of us" Sam said and I looked at him half mad half sad.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Her body is still in the room" Sam replied and looked back on the ground.

"You didn't brought her out of the room?!"

"We barely made it out ourselves!" Dean said. "Now y/n isn't even getting the hunters funeral that she deserves"

"Zachariah is going to pay for that" I said to myself, though it was loud enough for the others to understand.

"He already did. I killed him" Dean told me.

"Then Michael will pay next!" I said. I couldn't let y/n's death happen without any revenge. The angels took away what mattered the most to me.

Y/n showed me what humanity and life really meant. She showed me all the good things about it. I learned to love what I was willing to kill without questioning a few months ago. And now it was gone. The beauty and the reason for my still existence. I didn't want to exist anymore. All I wanted was to kill Michael and disappear after that. Because now they took the only beauty out of my life. And everything felt empty again.