#but honest I can see Sam and Dean wearing their outfits

[fakemonalisa28]

Is this Sam and Dean Winchester

[reidsaurora]

"Looking For The Moon" ~ S. Winchester

Summary: AU where until you meet your soulmate, you see their face in the moon. Once you meet your soulmate, the moon returns to its normal shape.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader (Reader is from Texas)

Word Count: 1,196

Content Warning: very mild swearing, alcohol consumption

Genre: Fluff

Extra Notes: AU where the boys get their tats earlier than S3

Based On: a random thought I had while listening to Moon by Jonah Kagen

Takes Place: right after S1 E17

Originally Written: 01/25/2022

Supernatural masterlist can be found here!

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After finishing yet another hunt, I found myself sitting in the bed of my truck, staring up at the sky, in a rural city just outside my hometown in Texas. Stargazing was something I always did when I finished a hard hunt. 

I found myself as I always did, gravitating towards looking at the moon. It was hard not to when your soulmate was staring back at you. He was handsome, the perfect man in my opinion, and I hadn't even met him.

After a few more minutes of star gazing, I decided to head to a local bar for a drink. I wasn't intending on getting drunk while I was there. If I had to be honest, I was mostly there for the bar food. Cheeseburgers and nachos always hit differently after hunts.

However, when I entered the bar, I was not expecting to be greeted by the sight of about a hundred people line dancing to "Achy Breaky Heart" by Billy Ray Cyrus.

I laughed quietly to myself as I thought, "What in the Texas?" I walked over to the nearly empty bar before sitting down and ordering some nachos and a Jack and Coke.

As the song ended, I heard someone behind me say, "Hey, pretty lady."

I turned to see a man, a slightly intoxicated man, sporting a cheap cowboy hat and cheap cowboy boots. Explains the terrible Texan accent…

"Hi," I attempted to smile back. I tried to conceal my accent when I talked, hoping to get back at him.

"Say, we need an extra set of feet for line dancing. You wanna join us?"

"I don't know how," I lied. Before he could say anything else, I quickly pretended to examine his outfit. "Ya know, I just love your boots. Did y'all just get back from the rodeo?" I asked in probably the thickest country accent I could fake.

"Alright, how'd you know?" he questioned in his normal accent, a much better fit for his voice.

"Well, for one, there's about 25 other people wearing the same hat which lets me know you probably bought that from some souvenir shop just off the highway. Not to mention, your accent was horrendous."

"Well, all that aside, that offer still stands if you wanna be my dancing partner."

"You don't need a partner for line dancing," I scoffed, turning back to the bartender as he placed my drink in front of me.

The man sat down beside me as he said, "No, but I think I'd have way more fun if I had a pretty lady to look at while I danced."

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink. I noticed that the man was wearing a familiar jacket, one I swore I'd seen somewhere before.

"You like what you're looking at?" he smirked. I didn't even realize I'd been staring.

"Can I see your chest?" I asked point blankly.

"Eager, aren't we?" he commented.

"Just show me your chest."

He raised his eyebrows as he pulled his shirt down, revealing his anti-possession tattoo.

I moved the sleeve of my flannel shirt to reveal the one I had on my shoulder.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

I finally was able to figure out why he looked familiar. "You're John Winchester's boy, aren't you?"

"Dean Henry Winchester, at your service," he nodded, taking my hand in his and kissing my knuckles.

I scoffed a little as I said, "My mom and I have hunted with him before. I recognized your jacket. It used to be his, right?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. "So, uh, you wanna dance or what?"

I scoffed a little at him before seeing that the bartender had placed my order of nachos in front of me. "I'm a little busy."

"Dean!" I heard another man say, his voice much lighter than Dean's. I turned to see where the voice was coming from and when I locked eyes with him, it was like the world stopped for a moment.

He was my soulmate, the one I always saw in the moon. I hadn't even spoken to him yet, but I already knew he was more perfect than anyone I could've ever imagined.

"Can you boys excuse me for a moment?" I asked, speaking so fast that my words ran together and hopping up from my seat.

I exited through the metal doors, looking up at the sky as I took a deep breath. The moon looked normal, there was no face.

So, the rumors were true. The moon was just as beautiful without your soulmate's face shining in it.

I took a couple deep breaths, trying to pace myself. But how could I? I'd seen his face in the moon for as long as I could remember. And now that he was here, I didn't know how to respond.

I heard the door open, seeing him walk out. He stared at the moon for a few seconds before looking at me. "You," he exhaled.

"And you," I exhaled in the same manner.

"So, we're soulmates, huh?" he asked.

"Seems that way," I smiled.

"I'm Sam," he told me, holding out his hand for me to shake it.

"Y/N," I replied, taking his hand.

His hand was surprisingly soft, the softest I had ever seen a hunter's hands.

"So, what are you doing out here?"

"Texas or the bar parking lot?" I giggled.

"Texas," he reiterated. "I'm assuming you ran out here to do the same thing I did."

I nodded before answering his first question. "Well, I'm actually from the area. I was just here specifically for a case."

"Us too," Sam replied. "The Hellhounds case. You?"

"I was working a shapeshifter case."

"Interesting. How'd it go?"

"Is this "Twenty Questions'?" I said with a giggle.

"Just trying to get to know you," he replied with a smile.

"It went well. Killed him a couple hours ago before I came here. What about you?"

"It was a very interesting case, to say the least," he chuckled. "Guy ended up being a tulpa, so we had to set that old house on fire for no reason. Though, I can't say I completely hated it. That place was creepy as hell."

"God, I hate a tulpa," I complained. I turned to fully face him, taking in everything about him: his beautiful, hazel eyes, how soft his hair looked, how good the jeans he was wearing looked on him. "So, you're the infamous Sam Winchester that John used to talk about all the time on cases."

"That'd be me."

"So, what's it's like? Being able to not live this lifestyle? Being able to get out and go to college? Being able to do whatever you want?"

"What is this, 'Twenty Questions'?" he kidded in the same tone I used earlier.

"Just trying to get to know you," I replied with a smirk, placing my arms over his shoulders and allowing my hand to play with the hairs on his neck.

"Well, believe me," he started, lightly placing his hands on my hips, "I'm an open book, Y/N."

"Well, believe me, Sam. I want to read you, from cover to cover."

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[waiting-for-cas-to-save-me]

Chapter 3 FHFAA

Chapter 3

Dean came barrling threw the motel rooms door in his arms he had a grow and go child seat and bags of stuff for the small angel. He had a smile from ear to ear for the first time in a long time.

"i got the goods Sam theres still beer in the car" dean was slightly out of breath

"dean slow down you did what" The younger brother wasnt sure what was going on.

" we have a kid round Sam she has needs .so i went shopping. and we needed food"

Cas took his baby girl from sam and walked around the room for a mommnet looking at the small assortment of stuff Dean had found for her.She was all smiles.

she needed to be changed anyway so cas let dean put her in a new outfit.Head bought multiple outfits that said corny things like little angel or heavens missing an angel Even found one that says my daddy is my guardian angel Which was a little ironic considering both of them are angels. but Dean just put her in a little simple onesie after she had been changed and she was just content She was only a little bit fussy But to found her way back to sleep. Let boys talk about no matter that you know cas was called for.

"we're pretty sure it's Gabe" sam said calmly

"how are you so sure"

"hes doing the same shitch he did when we first encountered him"Dean passed the stack of papers that have been printed off at the nearest public library and a newspaper over to Castiel And cas looked at it solely . his breath confirmed that that was most likely the work of his older brother Did he want to face his brother right now because he knew damn good and well Gabriel could hold him in a confinement of some sort of trick with ease Considering he is an archangel much less wearing the face of Loki.

No matter how the spelt it Gabe was tryin to get Tem Free will's attention and he knew just hwo to do it. Metaling with lives of humans wheather there be mentally or just killing them He knew how to get Sam and deans attention. Castiel didn't want to come down to a fight between angels because that normally meant he got expelled from his vessel Especially if it's an archangel. But he had something else to worry about beside himself and Sam or Dean And that was his daughter They were nowhere near South Dakota so they couldn't exactly just ask Bobby to watch her Castiel didn't really have any people he could trust but didn't want his head right now for him defying God. So It meant most likely taking a child who could not defend herself quite yet with a full understanding of what she was doing into a hunt and or meeting with What technically is her older brother.

As Castiel was looking down at his lap pondering what he was to do Sam spoke somlely" Dean I don't really agree with taking a baby On a hunt with an angel involved specifically an archangel one who's been known to wreak havoc on our lives you could even contain cas."

he looked back at Adina and then to the table"

She's not strong enough to defend herself Okay maybe she is but she wouldn't know what to do And to be honest I don't really agree with raising her in this life style Mom didn't want that for us But Dad did it anyway I mean ultimately It's up to you Cas. But personally I don't agree with it But leaves you vulnerable Heaven and Hell know Dean and I are each other's weakness They also know that you are also our weakness I hate to say it but do we really need them knowing that we have one more way to pull at us.But I also don't see another option"

sam made a valid point The forces of heaven an hell probably already knew this child existed So it did leave a giant target on all of team free wheels back If demons knew about an infant angel who didn't know the meaning of right and wrong or who to serve She can be easily manipulated to be an angel fighting for demons directly under Lucifer Whereas If Rafael were to get his hands on her He could be teaching her how to be this perfect little soldier of heaven with no idea of what free will feels like.

"We are taking Adina.She is Family like it or not."Cas's voice was hard and stern "even if we just "he paused for a momnet and shook his head"Leave her in the Impala for that short time. we'll get the holy oil trap set and then question him like normal"

"cas is that smart?"sam looked over at Adina and back at cas whos face was pain laiden

"its all we got"Dean spoke as he reasmlbed his beloved pistol"lets load up and head out car seats all strapped in"

Trying to swaddle. the sleeping baby is not the easiest for three guys with no baby experince in the world Much less one was sensitive wings They had to swaddle her arms up to her body so they could try to keep her wings in place and cushion Again not easy by any means She woke up only once to Castiel quickly put her back to sleep Basically involuntarily He knew that she would need to be asleep for most of this so he used his grace Was the only sure fire way to keep her asleep .Dean in the front seat Sam's sitting shotgun cast in Adina in the back The team drove off not until the sunset More like to they're doom.

"Seriously cas What is it with your brother and abandoned warehouses" Dean did not look thrilled to be on an abandoned warehouse while dealing with Gabriel Last time that happened his nuts were at risk of being smacked very violently.

" Just because he's my brother doesn't mean I know his ins and outs" Cast looked at his little girl Looked at the warehouse an unbuckled anyway.

Sam and Dean did the same and mde their way to the trunk getting the Holy Oil and angel blades just in case.

Castiel opened the passener backdoor and kissed Adina's small head"We will be right back baby . I promise."He laid his coat over her as they had parked in the shade of near by tress.

Dean was a little wearing of opeing this door as last time they did thye got stuck in the TV land A' La Gabe.Cas went in Befoer the other and did up a few oil cricles to be safe. he made it in and out no issues no sign of Gaberiel .

so they went in and got greated to what seemed like heaven.

Dean had his family of dreams long forgoten. a reall home for baby and still getting to hunt with his brother when they had time.HIs kids knew of the Angel of Thrusday and that he was always watching over them.

Sam situation was very similar but involved Jessica And I'm having their little family but I'm not hunting him being some has Dean would put a yuppie lawyer living a life he wanted when he got out of hunting occasional call from Dean And never seen his father again Not even knowing if his father was dead

Castiel saw bees,He saw Adina playing in fields of flowers His brother is not wanting him dead God in his place in heaven Getting to live a peaceful angelic life Not one with wars Not having to worry every waking hour getting to hear the prayers of Sam and Dean and then be positive not cast we need your help but cast you should come see this Little Jimmy did this He drew you you want to bring the kids together so they can have a play date and things like thatHe didn't even see himself in Jimmy Novak He saw himself as his true form the bigger than the Chrysler building true form and his small angel and her growing form.....

to be continued In Chapter 4 ....

Yes I went there I'm a bitch

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[samsexualdeancurious]

Not a Duet But a Holy Trio | Chapter Ten

Pairing: Wincest, Wincest/Reader

Total Words: 2,807

Summary: When Sam finally arrives in Heaven for the last time, he discovers that, somehow, he has TWO soulmates - his older brother and a complete stranger.

Warnings: Reader Death, Canonical Major Character Death(s), WINCEST, eventual threesome smut (vaginal sex, anal sex, probably some oral, I’ll try and update this as we go), some made up lore shit for plot reasons. If the SPN writers can do it, so can I xD

Header editing by me.

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If you thought you were nervous before your date with Dean, it’s nothing compared to how you feel in the hours leading up to the dinner with John and Mary.

“They’re going to love you no matter what you wear,” Dean assures you through the bathroom door.

“So you’ve said.”

You double-check your hair in the mirror, smooth the skirt of your favorite a-line dress, and open the bathroom door to find Dean eyeing the mess on your bed. You probably went through most of your wardrobe before settling on your current outfit and it shows. A bit cliche? Maybe but you need tonight to go perfectly.

When the door opens, Dean’s head turns towards you and your breath quickens as his gaze sweeps over your body. Plush lips quirk and when his eyes meet yours, the head in them ignites a warmth in your cheeks.

“This okay?” you ask, dropping your gaze shyly.

“Beautiful.”

When you look up, Dean is crossing the room. One hand settles on your waist, the other coming up to tilt your face toward him. Heat pools in your belly at his proximity and your eyes drift to his lips before you can stop yourself. He smirks.

“May I kiss you?”

The words are low, a warm breath on your skin. You give a small nod and Dean presses a kiss to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and then, at last, your lips. It’s soft, just enough to leave you craving more when he pulls away.

“That’s a sight I could get used to.”

The words have both your heads snapping towards the stairs to see Sam a few steps from the top, leaning casually against the railing with a grin on his face.

“Voyeur,” Dean teases. His hand shifts to the small of your back and draws you closer to him.

“Just being honest.”

Sam gives a little shrug and steps up into your room. He crosses the space between him and you in two strides, his own hand coming up to join Dean’s on your back. His smile has softened by the time he reaches you.

“You look stunning,” he says. “Nervous?”

You lean into his touch. “Very.”

“Everything will be fine. C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

“We’re in Heaven,” Dean chuckles. “Is it possible to be late?”

“I don’t know but we shouldn’t use dinner with our parents to find out.”

You follow the brothers down the stairs, taking advantage of bringing up the rear to admire the view. They’ve both forgone their usual layers of flannels and Henleys, trading them in for crisp white button-ups and jackets paired with their nicest jeans. Sam’s hair is swept to the side in soft curls you desperately want to run your fingers through. Both have been growing their beards out a little and the hints of grey mixed into their stubble is mouth-watering in a way you can’t explain.

You’ve never felt like this before. Sure, you’ve had crushes like anyone else but none of them have ever stirred this heat in your core or made your heart race the way the Winchesters do purely by existing. It’s thrilling.

Dean washed the Impala for the occasion and she gleams in the light of the evening sun. He holds the rear door for you as Sam climbs into the passenger seat. When you settle into the backseat for the first time, something about it feels like coming home. Like this is where you should’ve been for years.

“Ready?” Dean asks as he turns the key in the ignition. His eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror.

“Let’s go,” you reply with a nervous grin.

Of course, Dean has to make a u-turn so you can grab the pie that was forgotten on the kitchen counter. Off to a great start.

--

The Winchester house is an average, two-story suburban home in a pale green color with a big tree in the spacious front yard. You recognize it immediately from the family photos Dean keeps on their shared dresser, just as you recognize the beautiful blonde woman waiting in the open doorway.

“Hi, Mom,” Dean calls as he leads the way up the front walk.

He takes the porch steps in two and sweeps her into his arms. He curls down into her, six-foot-two if little boy for just a moment until he steps back to let Sam have his own turn. You hover nervously one step down but Dean doesn’t let you linger there for long. He takes your hand in his and pulls you up to stand between the brothers. “Mom, this is Y/N. Our soulmate.”

Mary Winchester’s face splits into a wide smile and before you can say or do anything, she’s pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” she says, stepping back to meet your gaze with a reassuring smile. “The boys have told me so much already. Come in! John’s out back manning the grill.” She loops her arm through yours and leads the way into the house, the brothers trailing along behind.

The house you step into is definitely something from the 70s but in that rural farmhouse style that reminds you of your own mother’s decor. You wouldn’t be surprised if it looks exactly as it did when the boys were young.

Mary leads the way through to the back porch, where a handsome dark-haired man is flipping burgers on an old-fashioned grill. John Winchester greets you with a dimpled smile, one you’ve seen before on his youngest son, and a firm handshake.

“Good to finally meet you.”

The words are welcoming but there’s something wary and a little dangerous in his dark eyes that makes you nervous. You’ve seen something similar in Dean specifically but not in a long time, and you didn’t expect to see it in John.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you respond politely. “I’m really happy to finally be meeting you.”

John nods and turns to greet his boys with back-thumping hugs. You’ll never understand why men do that.

“Smells great,” Dean is saying, eyeing the burgers. “What can we do to help with dinner?”

Mary puts the boys to work setting the table and brings you into the kitchen with her to prepare vegetables.

“I’m not much of a cook,” she admits as she passes you paper towels to pat the lettuce dry with. “But salads I can do.”

Mary focuses on putting together the salad while you prepare burger toppings and the time passes quickly. Mary is easy to talk to. It’s clear she’s been through a lot in her short life - she wasn’t even thirty when she died the first time - but she’s retained a gentleness that’s admirable. It must come from her boys. The soft way she looks at them as they come in and out of the kitchen while setting the table in the dining room, you know she would’ve been a great mom if she’d been given the chance. As it stands, you know things didn’t go that smoothly, even after she was brought back for a few years. That had been a hell of a story and you’d gaped at Dean when he’d told it but their lives are full of tales like that. What’s one more?

Working with Mary in the kitchen allows you to avoid having to really talk to John until everyone is finally sitting down around the table and the food is being dished up.

“It’s nothing special.” Mary shoots an apologetic smile and passes you the salad bowl. “Neither of us cook much.”

“Burgers are always a great option,” you assure her and Dean rewards you with a nudge of his foot against your under the table. He’s sitting across from you, the only one on that side of the table. Mary is to your right at the end, Sam directly to your left, and then John at the head. “They smell amazing, Mr. Winchester. Thank you for making them.”

“Call me John,” he says gruffly. “It was no problem.”

He seems wary of you, which you can understand. You’re more than a stranger - you’re an outsider who’s somehow supposed to be important to his sons. You had no place in the hunting world, something that sets you apart from everyone at the table. You’re just a woman who somehow shares a soul with the brothers and you can see how jarring that would be to learn about, even if John put on an accepting face for his sons. You’re going to have to work to earn his acceptance into their little family and you find you’re not surprised by that realization.

“So,” Mary says, breaking the momentary silence that’s fallen. She carefully arranges her toppings on her burger as she speaks. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N. Where are you from?”

That’s something you can talk about and you do, telling Mary about your hometown with its familiar streets and rundown movie theater. This leads into stories from your childhood and then Dean chimes in with a story of his own. John loosens up as this continues, the boys bouncing stories back and forth alongside your own. His eyes keep flicking between the three of you, trying to decipher the dynamic he’s seeing. When he jumps in with a story of his own, something from when the boys were too young to remember, you know you’re on your way to winning him over. He’s opening up a little. It’s not much but it’s progress.

“I think Dad likes you,” Dean says as he takes your plate after dinner. He and Sam have been tasked with dishes. You offered to help as well but Mary wouldn’t have it. A little dinner preparation was fine but you’re still a guest tonight and guests don’t help with cleaning up, no matter how much they try to insist that they don’t mind. “He’s a little rough, I know, but there’s a teddy bear under there. You just have to be patient.”

“I figured.” You tilt your chin up a little and Dean takes the invitation, kissing you softly. “Go help your brother.”

Mary returns from the kitchen then and sweeps you into the living room, where John’s already sitting in his armchair with a beer in hand. The way he lounges is so much like Dean. Honestly, there is a lot of John in Dean and you can just imagine it when Dean was young, trying to be tough for Sam and to live up to his hero father. Dean wanted to be just like him, from his car to his music to the old leather jacket he wears when he’s feeling extra sentimental. You can see an identical jacket hanging on the coat rack.

“Those boys better be treating you well,” John says when you sit beside Mary on the couch.

“They do,” you assure him. You can see Sam and Dean at the sink and remember the first night Bobby visited, the boys dancing around each other in the kitchen. They’re on their best behavior now, though. “You raised good men. We’re taking things pretty slowly. This is all… well, it’s a lot.”

“I can imagine!” Mary is so bright compared to her husband’s withdrawn nature. Where John is cautious, she’s open and excited about this development. To be fair, she probably expected her sons to be eternal bachelors. Knowing that they have someone outside of each other must be a relief, even if there’s no possibility of anything like grandkids now. “It’s really weird that you never met the boys when you were alive. That’s usually how soulmates work, right?”

You give a shrug. “I guess. I’m not an expert. You’d have to ask Cas. We’ve compared timelines a bit, though, and there’s been a few times I think we just missed each other but I died before that happened.”

“How did you die?”

Sam’s voice startles you and your head snaps up to see him standing on the threshold between the kitchen and living room. Behind him, Dean is putting soap in the dishwasher and starting it.

“A car accident,” you answer after a moment of hesitation. You haven’t talked about this with anyone in a very long time. You swapped “war stories” as Pamela jokingly called them back when you first met her and Ash but since then, it hasn’t really come up. “A semi crossed the center line and hit me head-on. It was instant,” you add when you see Mary’s concerned expression.

Sam’s brow furrows and you can see the wheels of his mind turning. “An orange Honda?”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment as his words process. “I… yes. How did you know?”

“We saw the accident.”

Dean comes up behind his brother, drying his hands on a towel. The tension in the air is palpable, Mary and John exchanging nervous looks over you as they all wait for you to react to Dean’s statement.

“You saw it?”

Your voice is barely more than a whisper. You’re feeling something but what exactly, you’re not sure. Sorrow? Maybe. Sorrow for the life you lost, for what could have been? Anger at the injustice of it all, to have been so close and yet so far from the rest of your soul? Maybe a bit of both.

“We were behind you on the highway,” Dean says softly. He looks torn between rushing to your side and giving you space and, to be honest, you’re not sure what you want him to do. “I remember it. We had to stick around and give statements to the cops. It was… it was pretty brutal.”

“I don’t remember it,” you tell him and it’s the truth. You don’t remember the impact, the moments before, anything. One moment you were in your car, the next you were on the side of the road with Billy. “Really, Dean. I’m okay.”

He nods but Sam’s still shooting him concerned looks.

An awkward silence falls but Mary doesn’t let it last long. She seems determined to keep up a positive attitude, probably to combat John’s sullenness at first and now to defeat the tension in the room. It takes a minute but she manages to defuse most of that and the rest of the night goes well. The pie is brought out at some point and appreciated by all.

When it’s time to go, Mary squeezes you extra tight.

“Don’t let those boys be strangers, okay?” she asks and you nod.

When she steps away, you turn to John. He’s still holding back but you’re certain now that you’ll get through to him. He just needs a little more time. To your surprise, though, he loops you into a one-armed hug.

“Drive safe,” he says a little awkwardly.

You and the boys pile into the Impala. The drive home is quiet but you don’t mind. You’re not sure what’s going through Sam’s mind but Dean keeps glancing back at you, checking on you. He’s clearly still processing the newfound knowledge that they witnessed your death, even if they didn’t know it at the time.

“Dean,” you say when he parks the Impala in front of the cabin. The sun went down long ago but you left the porch light on and the warm glow is inviting. Still, you stay right where you are and reach forward to tip Dean’s face toward you. “Dean. I’m okay. I promise.”

Dean’s eyes are dark and unreadable but it’s Sam who speaks, turning sideways in his seat so he can look at you.

“You were right there.”

The words are spoken softly, with a sadness that’s absolutely heartbreaking. You reach your other hand out to Sam and he takes it in his, lifting it to his lips.

“I was and now I’m here.” You don’t know where the words come from but here they are, firm in the cool night. “I’m here and you’re here and we can’t go back. We can’t change it. The only thing we can do is make up for lost time. Right?”

Both men nod and you smile.

“Good. Now, who’s going to kiss me goodnight at the door? Hmm? Sam?”

His cheeks color and his eyes are bright when they meet yours. “You’re sure?”

“Walk me to the door, handsome, and find out.”

Sam’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door for you. When you get out, Dean laughing in your wake, he takes your hand in his and suddenly he seems so young. So much like the boy you met so briefly all those years ago. He leads you up the steps to the front door and then he hesitates.

“Kiss me, Sam,” you murmur, reaching up to cup his face in your hands.

He does.

—

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[katoska]

Ok. So I guess The Winchesters is supposed to be the original, organic, Good Timeline ("the True story of how John and Mary fell in love") while all of SPN happens in a split-off, artificial, way grittier Bad Timeline that lead to what Dean sees in 4x03 In The Beginning and which was very likely created by Chuck through time-travel and/or mind-wipes and a Cupid (can they time-travel and mind-wipe? If not, Seraph partnered with Cupid. Actually, just to do that anyway for the lulz) because the first timeline had an upper limit on how much John could possibly mess up his sons if he never had to wonder what creature had killed his wife or work hard to find any info on monsters.

TW!John made hunter buddies and apparently knew about his dad and the Men of Letters. TW!Mary would have told John about the demon deal with Azazel because why wouldn't she? They could have researched the enemy together and gained a fighting chance before those ten years were up . At least one of them could have marked their calendar to not fucking forget the date, too. And even if Mary still died - or John did - neither one would go paranoid over it because hunters being killed by demons is just what happens. That blood ritual and fire otoh? That's weird shit, but at least if you are a hunter/MOL you know where to start your research. You know people who can help you and how to check they aren't demons or shifters or ghouls.

TW!John and Mary got to meet in a totally different genre of show than the one SPN is generally set in. I mean, look at it! It's a peppy teenage RomCom with some mystery and horror elements so the (in-universe) audience can pretend they are in it for those rather than the relationships dynamics... which look rather wholesome, at least going by the trailer. Everyone seems supportive and honest with one another. Even the violence looks cartoonish what with the yeeted demon and the holy water pistol. Nothing gritty or bloody. The special effects look outdated and cheap, but in a deliberate Ghostfacers Effect kinda way because the story takes place in 1972. The orange-ness of everything always feels like an in-joke about the lighting analysts in fandom.

Anyway, I expect the tragedy of this timeline to be that John and Mary didn't get to be the versions of themselves that they first fell in non-Cupid-induced love with, and instead were forced to become the versions of themselves that would later produce Sam and Dean('s childhood trauma).

And if I wanted to go for a real gut-punch, I'd make Castiel that angel who had orders to mess with John and Mary's timeline. Orders that he'd only understand the impact of... well, in several stages throughout the show, though most accutely in S4 (especially E03).

It would explain why Cas became so protective of Dean and fought for him even though he... should have felt zero obligation to do that, and definitely not so early on, if there was no specific reason for it (no, "gay" is not a valid reason for a heel-face-turn of this size). Cause usually that only happens with people he had harmed or thought he had failed in some way (Jimmy, Claire, Sam, Dean, Meg, post-fall angels, post-Leviathan humanity, Kelly, Jack.... Not Crowley though lol). It would also explain why he never seems angry about the brothers' childhood anecdotes, only sad. I'd be diplomatic and stick with "your father was a complicated man", too, if I felt partly responsible for 'complicating' him and inadvertently made my friends' - and especially Dean's - lives way worse.

Though don't ask me who the hell is supposed to play Cas' vessel. How about Misha playing Cas walking around in Jimmy Novak's dad and wearing the worst possible 70s outfit?

[writingtoforgetreality]

Come Together - Little Movie Star Chapter Five (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Summary: It was finally time to meet the Padalecki’s. What if they did not like you? You were expecting a lot of things but you certainly were not expecting this. Were you dreaming? You had to be.

Words: 1,912

Warnings: language, Jared being a hugger (you’ll understand why I put it here), being uncomfortable, scared of having to go back, surprises, kinda a filler chapter but important for the future of this story

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Tonight, the Padalecki’s were coming over. When Jensen broke the news to you, you were excited but equally nervous. Danneel drove the kids over to their grandparents so they would not disturb you during dinner. Not that they ever annoyed you. The exact opposite, actually. You loved having them around. But you were supposed to focus on Jared & Gen tonight.

The thought of them getting to know you scared the shit out of you. They were the Ackles’ best friends, after all, & you wanted to leave a good first impression behind. It took you some time to figure out what you wanted to wear for dinner. It would be held at home so you did not have to overdress but at the same time, you found dressing nicely to be convenient. After changing your outfit one too many times, you settled on a simple look. While it was nothing special, you did feel confident in it. And confidence was definitely something you needed later today.

Spending hours in the bathroom was not planned, it simply happened. You wanted to look perfect. Danneel had told you that there was no need to worry, that they would love you just as you were. Being a fan of them for a long time, you knew they would never judge you by they way you looked. It just was not in their nature. Still, it could not hurt to put effort into your look, right?

When you woke up today, the first thing you did was checking your phone. You knew you should not but sometimes you felt the need to. By now, everyone knew about you. And while the hate comments were becoming less & less, some days, you only noticed the negative responses. Of course, the media had picked up on the fact that you were a new person they could write about. There was not much to report about you, though. Some paparazzi had shot a few pictures of you over the time of you living in Austin. At first, you were creeped out by the idea of being watched 24/7. Now, you were dealing with it way better. When you were seen with Jensen, you posed for the pictures & it was fun to mess with them, really. Besides your first Instagram post, you had been quiet on social media. The hate wave still needed some time to die down & you did not want to add fire to the flame by posting more stuff about your new life. Surprisingly, the articles that had been written about you were mainly positive. Of course, a couple of them were looking for drama but because of your silence on social media, there was not much they could write about.

Walking out of your room after checking your look in the mirror for the hundredth time, you saw that you still had an hour left before they would be coming by. You could ask Danneel if you could help in the kitchen. She had insisted on making the main dish while the Padalecki’s would bring over dessert. Danneel heard you walking in & gasped when she turned around to look at you.

“Wow, (Y/N). You look gorgeuous.” blushing at her words, you thanked her.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” walking over, you could already smell the delicious dish Danneel was preparing.

“You could set the table if you don’t mind?” she asked you & you immediately got to work, grabbing everything necessary to put on the table.

Hey, Dee?” you were at a point where calling her by her nickname did not make you uncomfortable anymore. Yet, if you had to be fully honest, being in Jensen’s presence calmed you more. Comparing your relationship to the beginning, though, the both of you had improved by a lot. And you were grateful that your trying was not for nothing.

“What’s up?”

“Where’s Jensen? Shouldn’t he…I don’t know, be here already?” you knew he was not the person to be late, especially not for something as important as this. Okay, it was just dinner but he was aware of your nervousness even days before. Danneel informed you that he was at the Padalecki’s house & would arrive right in time with them. Okay, good. At least he did not forget about it.

Ever since you had arrived in Austin, Jensen’s filming schedule was all over the place. The crew wanted to give him more time with you & the change in his life. This ended up in him flying back & forth from Vancouver to Austin almost every couple of days. It was exhausting & you had reasoned with him to focus on his work entirely, that you guys would be okay here. But nope, Jensen wanted to be there with his family & you appreciated his efforts a lot. A lot of weekends, he was at conventions all across the country but he always managed to stop by & spend time with you all. He was great.

There was knocking on the front door & you knew it was them. Danneel asked you to get the door & you were silently preparing yourself. You had multiple conversations in your head & hoped that one of them would be fitting. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. Damn, you knew Jared was tall but he was tall. You were pulled into a bone-crashing hug before any words were exchanged. Right, you knew Jared was a hugger, you had seen enough videos of him admitting that. Still, you were getting used to physical touch & his hug did more bad than good. You hated yourself for feeling that way, there was no need to be scared of hugs.

“Easy, pal. Let her go.” Jensen rescued you by tapping Jared’s shoulder. It was as if he suddenly remembered that you actually were not one for hugs. Pulling away abruptly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry…” he quietly apologized. “I’m Jared. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).” you could not stay mad at him, the look in his eyes & his smile was enough to forget the uncomfortable hug immediately.

“It’s no problem & likewise, Jared.” stepping out of the doorway to let them in, Gen came into view & she smiled sweetly at you. Not making the same mistake as Jared, she simply shook your hand.

“Hi (Y/N), I’m Gen. You look pretty.” would you ever stop blushing whenever someone gave you a compliment? You were not sure but it was something you could work on, you thought.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you.” keeping your nervousness at bay, you were proud when your voice did not crack. If you acted like this the entire evening, you would be fine.

Jared & Gen walked into the house to greet Danneel & Jensen stopped you before you could follow them. Facing him, you gave him a confused look, not knowing what he wanted from you.

“I’m sorry about Jared. I told him you weren’t one for hugs but that jerk doesn’t listen very well.” Jensen felt bad that the first interaction between you guys was uncomfortable for you.

“It’s fine, Jensen, really. I knew he was a hugger.” a laugh escaped you, one that eased him a little. Now he could tell you were not mad at what happened. It could only get better from now on, right?

Dinner went by fast. It was easy to talk to them & while they did ask you a lot of questions, they were never uncomfortable. They knew where the line was that  should not be crossed. At least for the time being.

“So, (Y/N).” Jared started.

“Yeah?”

“I heard a rumor that you’re a fan of Supernatural?” he gave you a smile that showed you that he knew the answer to that question already. You nodded your head.

“Started watching about three years ago.“

“That brings me to my next very important question. Who’s your favorite? Sam or Dean?” oh, he did go down that road, great. You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you & Jared was looking way too confident. Honesty was important, right? Well, then you might as well confess.

“Actually…Cas is my favorite.” you admitted. Both, Jared & Jensen, gasped & acted as if the world just ended. You laughed at their antics. They could be such children.

“That’s my girl.” Danneel spoke up & high-fived you. Yeah, you could get used to that group of people.

Danneel & Gen left Jensen, Jared & you alone, knowing what they were about to tell you. Jared had brought you a little gift. It was one of his hoodies from the newest “Always Keep Fighting” campaign. The one with the “Family Has Your Back” logo. After thanking him, you immediately put it on, loving how it fit you. It was a little too big on you but that made it even comfier.

“We have to tell you something.” Jensen started. Oh no. Usually, when people from your past started a conversation like this, you were sent back the next day. Wait…Would they really do that? After everything?

“O-okay?” hiding your nervousness was not possible anymore. Jared noticed you trembling hands & eased your mind before you got the wrong impression.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s a good thing, I promise.” again, Jared’s smile had an effect on you. Maybe it was because he was so empathetic.

“Remember when you told me that you enjoyed acting a while ago?” Jensen continued after you nodded, “I managed to get you two auditions. They are online, so I can be there with you this entire time. That is, of course, only if you wanna do this.” your eyes widened at his words. Had you heard him right? He got you auditions? Plural? That was literally one of your biggest dreams.

“So?” Jared asked when you were silent for a few seconds. You just needed time to process everything. But holy shit. Of course you wanted to do this!

“I’d love to! What are the auditions for?”

“One is for being a main character in season 13 of Supernatural & the-“ Jensen was cut off.

“WAIT WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?”

“He so isn’t kidding.” Jared chimed in.

“And the second one?” everything was too much right now. How could you possibly deal with this information without freaking out?

“A role for the next Avengers movie.” Jensen finished. Yeah, sure, why not?

“How? How did you get these auditions for me?” you were shocked to say the least. What was happening?

“We do have some connections.” Jared winked at you & this time, it was you who pulled the both of them into a hug. Jared looked surprised while Jensen just smiled. He appreciated whenever you initiated physical touch, knowing it was not easy for you.

After the talk, Danneel & Gen joined you guys again & you excitedly told them about your upcoming auditions. That was so foreign to you. Having upcoming auditions. Even though they made sure that you understood that they could not guarantee anything, you were more than grateful that they even got you this opportunity. Supernatural & Marvel, both fandoms you loved wholeheartedly. And now you had the chance to be play an actual part if everything worked out. And how you hoped it would. Your life had changed so much lately & it could change even more now.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter 

Published (04/17/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 5

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

GET. READY. This is a bigger chunk but I really think it’s worth it. 

Title: Dreams, Chapter 5

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5343

Summary: Dean’s birthday proves easier than expected in some ways and harder in others. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol, s l o w  b u r n

           Sam pulled back from you, opening one eye drowsily. “Are you okay?” he says, voice gritty with sleep.

           “Yeah, I…he didn’t die,” you breathed, confused.

           He cleared his throat. “What?”

           “He always dies. He fell off of Bobby’s roof, but he just broke his ankle, he, he didn’t die.”

           Sam rubbed his face with his free arm, trying to wake up more in earnest. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been later than 7:30. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours but suddenly felt beyond alert. “That’s good, right?”

           “I—yeah, it’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

           “Do you want to talk about it?”

           The reflex was to say no, usher Sam back to sleep. But your reflexes had already been wrong once today. “Can we?”

           The way Sam kept the surprise off his face was admirable. It was the first time you’d agreed to talk about the nightmares that plagued you since losing Dean. He propped himself up on his elbows and flicked on the small lamp beside the bed. “What happened?”

           You told Sam all about the dream, sparing only the details you couldn’t really remember or only made dream-sense, like the way you knew it was 4th of July weekend without having been told. He listened thoughtfully, the focus obvious in his expression. He waited a long beat when you were done, sure not to step on your moment of vulnerability.

           “What do you think it means?” he asked gently.

           You thunked back onto your pillow to gaze up at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t care, to be honest.” The almost-dark made fuzzy static pulse in your vision. “I think I’m going to write about it, actually,” you said, and startled yourself.

           “Oh, uh, okay,” Sam said encouragingly. “Do you want me to—” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

           “No, no. I’ll be back in a little bit, see if you can go back to sleep.”

           Sam nodded with more than a little concern and you climbed over him, yanking an old sweatshirt out to throw over your wilted tee and scampering off to the kitchen table.

           The house was ice cold and dark aside from the ever-present Christmas lights and you could feel the needles that had begun to drop from the tree under your bare feet, rapidly cooling on the cheap flooring. You picked up the notebook and pens Sam had gotten you and sat down at the kitchen counter to write.

           In the days that followed, the constant and varied nightmares of Dean’s deaths returned. When you woke up, more and more often making it to the morning, you kept writing to Dean about them and sometimes your day as a way of processing. You never ‘told him’ about exactly what happened and tried to focus on the sweet things you remembered that made the worst dreams a tease, moving them to your daytime memory and trying to wash away the despair the nightmares left you clawing through.

            By the middle of January, you and Sam had fallen mostly back into old patterns. The Christmas lights were still up, a sort of night light against the long Midwestern nights, and you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of despair sweeping up loose pine needles when Sam was in the shower every day. You didn’t want the winter to end, as weird as that sounded with the ice and chill and fingertips that never warmed all the way. It felt like if you moved into spring that you were leaving the time-out that you’d created and would have to figure out a longer-term solution than this rented cabin, all thin drywall and poorly insulated ceilings. Even your jobs didn’t feel permanent, the summer vacationers sure to come back and reclaim their spots in the town as it came back to life with the plants.

           The ‘mostly’ was that the boundary you broke with Sam never truly came uncrossed. When you were washing dishes he would come stand behind you, the heat of his lips seeping into the shoulder of your old sweatshirts. You’d intertwine your fingers with his while he drove, realizing only when you went to open the car door and found yourself tangled, or running your hands through his hair while he read next to you on the sofa. You never met Sam’s eyes in these moments—somehow it felt like a secret, private thing that would collapse into dust if gazed upon, some sweet, small creature you were protecting. Neither one of you talked about it in the time since that tequila-soaked night.

           As much as you’d needed to be close to him before, you began craving Sam in a way that scared you. You’d always found him beautiful in the way you admire someone you love, but you caught yourself taking notice of the pillars of muscles along his back when he broke down stock boxes and the dark swoop of his eyelashes. The comments about how lucky you were to have him that used to make you nervous your cover was about to be blown started to make you ache a little with fear and something you couldn’t place. You felt a bizarre flick of jealousy when some twenty somethings drinking White Claw dragged their eyes over him at the bar before leaving on their snowmobiles, like he really was yours to claim. It seemed like a manifestation of your fierce attachment and unresolved grief not only for Dean but your old life with the Winchesters, when they sort of were: your teammates and no one else’s. You resolved it had to be and explained it away without inspection, even when these ‘isolated’ moments became less and less isolated.

           Before you knew it, you were hurtling toward Dean’s birthday.

           “What should we do on Sunday?” you asked early on a Thursday afternoon, trying to keep your voice light and easy while you and Sam got ready for your last day of work for the week.

           “I don’t, uh, I don’t know.”

           “Did you guys ever do anything when you were little?”

           “I mean, not really. Sometimes like a cake or whatever I guess, but Dean was always better at that stuff. By the time we were in our 20s, he only wanted to go meet girls and play up the ‘kiss for the birthday boy’ schtick.” Sam grinned sheepishly as though you didn’t know who Dean had been.

           You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the cocksure half-boy you’d met all those years ago. “Okay, well, if you didn’t have anything in mind, I have a couple ideas.”

           “Oh, yeah, I had only really come up with a cherry pie and a bottle of whiskey.”

           You stood up from the kitchen table and grabbed Sam’s empty plate, leaning into his drying hair for long enough to inhale the minty earthiness of his shampoo. “I mean, that’s a given.”

           In Sunday’s late morning you slipped out of the house while Sam was in the shower, leaving a note behind that said you’d be back in a few minutes. You careened down the road to the quaint main street, running through the list in your head. The grocery store was first for the only bottle of scotch they kept in a tiny plastic container and the fixings for bacon cheeseburgers, then the coffee shop had a cherry pie that looked better to you than whatever pseudo-Entemann’s they had in the limited grocery bakery section. The hardware store had everything else you needed and some extras; you praised the cold climate necessity of having multiple places in town to get gloves and thick woolen socks as you threw a couple on the checkout with the rest of the haul. It was awkward to get everything in the trunk, and you were thankful in this moment that you weren’t trying to drive the little sedan you’d had years ago when it was just you, even as annoying as it was to park the Impala sometimes.

           Back at the cabin Sam was solemnly cleaning up, his eyes red as he wrung out a mop. You took the pie and whiskey out of the bag and put the other groceries away without removing your coat. In truth you only took off the boots you were wearing as a concession to Sam’s mopping, feeling itchy to get back outside and let the complexity of your emotions explode into fresh air unencumbered.

           You tossed a pair of new woolen socks to Sam, who caught them against his chest. “You’re going to want these.”

           “What? Where are we going?”

           “Somewhere I think Dean would’ve liked. Put on some layers, too.”

           Sam obeyed with a crooked eyebrow, coming out of the bedroom a few minutes later looking like a lumberjack catalogue model. You didn’t say anything when you realized the hoodie he was wearing used to be his brother’s.

           “Ready?”

           “I’m not sure, I don’t know where we’re going,” Sam answered honestly.

           You gestured toward the door and he followed you out to the car. Thankfully it had snowed that morning, and tiny billows of powdery snowflakes blew up around each car that you passed on the way.

           The hill was massive. It was a little surprising considering the flatness of the majority of the Midwest, and you’d had to remind yourself that there were some small skiing outfits in the upper half of the state when you’d found it, sure that it was a garbage dump that had been covered lazily in grass seed and left to its own devices. Less impressive surrounding slopes reassured you when you’d scoped it out a few days earlier, and the fresh glittering snow made it look even more spectacular now than you’d remembered. You decided not to push it taking the Impala onto the snow, instead parking at the dead-end you thought was closest.

           “We’re here?” Sam asked, obviously still confused.

           “Yep. Come on,” you said, enjoying the surprise more than you’d thought you would.

           Popping the trunk made it obvious when the bright plastic sleds were wedged in alongside the miscellaneous weapons whose permanent home it was. You watched Sam’s face as recognition dawned, closely followed by a smirk you knew was in large part to humor you. Yanking them out in one big pull, you handed Sam the green one and one of the pair of gloves you’d gotten that morning.

           “These are huge, where did you even find them?” he chuckled, popping the plastic tie between the gloves and sliding his hands into them.

           “You’re huge, it’s not like I can put you on a kid’s one. Besides they must be pretty serious about their sledding up here, these were just from the hardware store.”

           Sam shook his head and waited for you to put your gloves on. They were comically big on you, but you knew you’d regret not wearing any and tried your best to grip the sides of the plastic sled through them as you took off toward the hill. After a few steps, Sam took the sled from you without a word, able to hold it easily with both his well-fitting gloves and the many extra inches between his arms and the ground.

           The walk up the hill was somewhat of a trudge but the way the crisp air sliced through your lungs was a welcome distraction. Snow dampened the ambient noise so all you could hear was Sam’s rhythmic breathing like a mantra, and with one foot in front of the other, by the time you got to the top you felt like you’d been meditating. The view was amazing from the top, a painting or old illustration with its tiny homes and cottages over meandering fields, the snow washing everything out as if you were watching someone else’s dream.

           “Should we race?” Sam asked, the swirled pigment of his irises lit up by the reflection off the snow.

           The next thing you heard was Sam’s laugh behind you as you took a few big strides and jumped onto the sled. Careening down the hill, your hair snapped around, tiny whips cracking into your wind-tenderized cheeks as you tried in vain to steer the sled in slices across the straight pass. Sam’s cackle was distant but comforting over your shoulder. You closed your eyes to feel the speed underneath you and the wind across your face; listen to that laugh that you’d heard so little recently, an old favorite song to be put on repeat. On January 24th of all days it felt like you were being baptized in the clear crystal sound of it.

           When you came to a stop, Sam was only a half second behind you. You fell over in a fit of giggles listening to him play-whine about cheating and “Totally not fair, after I carry your sled all the way up for you!”

           “I’ll beat you again with no head start! Unless you’re chicken,” you taunted, brushing snow off your legs to start back up the hill again. Sam scrambled to his feet, passing you up quickly with his huge strides as you started to run after him. Gasping with laughter and exertion, you and Sam half-wrestled and chased each other to the top, collapsing to your backs like snow angels. After catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

           “Rematch?”

           Sam’s smile, all straight pearl teeth and cold-flushed cheeks, was as breathtaking as the icy wind as you tore down the run, this time on your stomach with your head low like a bullet, trying in earnest to win again. The front lip of the sled in your fingertips rumbled against little imperfections in the snow. You glanced to check how much of a lead you had on Sam and had barely turned your head before you realized you were also dipping your shoulder, tilting the sled on its greased-lightning path and therefore you with it. Sam was right on your tail and narrowly missed crushing you when you fell off the sled by bailing out of his, your legs tangling together with misplaced velocity. You tried to hold still so you wouldn’t catch his face with a flailing limb, only moving after a beat when it seemed like the collision was over. Sam’s fall seemed to have been more graceful than yours, as he still had a hand on his sled and only a left arm and hair full of snow that he shook loose like a puppy.

           “Are you okay?” he said, getting to his knees to reach out to you.

           You could feel the scrape on your cheek before you got up, but Sam’s wince was only minor when he saw it which was reassuring. He snatched off his glove and brushed snow off your face gently, barely grazing the broken skin. The warmth felt so nice and you would’ve curled up in his palm like Thumbelina if you could. “What’s the damage?” you asked, trying to think about the way your breath puffed up in clouds around you rather than the snowflakes caught in Sam’s eyelashes.

           He was analytical as he took it in, tilting your head carefully in the light. “Doesn’t look too bad. Does it hurt?”

           “Nah. Did you think I’d get soft that fast? I used to get stabbed like once a month.”

           Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you want to go home?”

           It didn’t feel as odd as it should’ve, knowing exactly what home meant in this context. “And let you think I only won by cheating? Fat chance!”

           “You don’t even have a sled anymore!”

           You glanced around you and saw your sled sitting smugly an easy 30 yards past the base of the hill. “Gimme a ride?”

           It was a little awkward until Sam sat down on the sled with each heel straddled and digging into the snow, allowing you to crawl between his legs without unintentionally sliding down the rest of the slope. He seemed unsure of himself as he wrapped his arms around your torso, and you hooked your hands around each of his legs to do your part to hang onto him. “Ready?” he asked, his breath warm on your neck.

           When you nodded, he unstuck his heels and you shot like a racehorse down the hill. Sam’s chest was solid as a rock behind you, cushioned with his layers and fastened with his seatbelt arms. You could feel the muscles in his legs moving against your hands, trying to balance the weight of the two of you on the flimsy material. Despite your fall only moments ago, it was safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The ride came to a stop only a few steps away from your cast off sled.

           You turned into Sam to get to your knees before standing up and slipped on a wet patch on the plastic, the melted snow turning the surface impossibly slick. It made you fall forward into Sam, his seated position not giving him enough stability to stay on balance—the sled shifted back underneath the both of you and brushed your lips across his as you ended up with your scraped cheek against the rough canvas of his jacket.

           “I—oh my god I’m sorry,” you stammered, springing back gracelessly.

           Sam looked somewhat like a little kid or a doll, sitting wide eyed with his legs still spread out around you. You stayed back on your knees feeling like you should move slowly, that maybe you could back away unscathed yet. Sam reached his hands out and you thought it was okay, he understood you wouldn’t cross yet another line with him, that it was a simple mistake and he was going to move past it or ask for your help up, and then his heavily gloved hand slid into your hair and he was leaning toward you, the breath that had felt so comforting on the back of your neck as you flew down the hill now on your bottom lip. Your needle-sharp inhale drew that air from him, and you started to feel dizzy. He waited for a moment, searching between your eyes for you to pull back, to turn it into a joke, but you couldn’t. Something in the light pressure of his hand was an anchor and you found yourself glancing at Sam’s lips and slowly, agonizingly, Sam closed the distance between you.

           His lips were so soft and gentle that it made you feel like you were going to cry and then you were crying, just one hot salty tear that stung the fresh abrasion on your cheek as you moved against him, this foreign and scary part of the person you knew the best on this earth. Somehow kissing Sam was exactly how you would’ve guessed it would be—tender and sweet and reverent. The sound dampening of the snow amplified your other senses: the feeling of the cheap Gore-Tex catching one or two hairs as Sam supported your weight, the small brush of Sam’s breath through his nose, the tight flick of the wind against your coats. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving you and Sam staring at each other bewildered while your hair tangled around you.

           You could feel that your eyes were as wide as Sam’s. Completely unable to formulate a thought or feeling, much less something to say, you silently extricated yourself from the sled. Sam did too, staring at it like it was some complicated spell, even turning away from you as you crossed over to your own store-bought chariot. You could read his tension even in his back, the tight stretch of his shoulders as he clutched at the scruff of his neck, and just wanted to make it better.

           “Okay, rematch for real this time? I would say I won’t fall again but, no promises.”

           Sam looked scared when he turned back to you, his voice gruff when he choked out a halfhearted, “yeah, sure” and followed you up the hill. He was far enough behind you that you couldn’t hear his breathing anymore and it took him a little bit to reach you at the peak. His body seemed like it was cracking around him, aging in moments as he shakily got into his sled beside yours. You wanted so badly to tell him it’s okay, it’s just some dumb mistake, we were just goofing off but you knew it wasn’t true and you didn’t want to lie.

           The only thing you could fix your mouth to say was, “Count us down so you can’t say I’m cheating again,” and hope he heard the apology and forgiveness in it.

           Sam obeyed dutifully and you kicked off down the hill, trying to use the speed you gathered and the clarity in the way it split open your lungs to try to understand what had just happened. The same trip that had felt like glorious ages before was over in a second and you were up out of your sled before you remembered you were supposed to be measuring whether you or Sam had gotten down faster.

           “Tie, we’re going again!” you yelled over your shoulder as you did your best to bound through the deep snow up the side of the hill, not waiting to see if he was following you.

           Once again at the top, ragged and out of breath and only a few steps ahead of him, you took a second to collect yourself before putting your sled back in the snow and holding it in place with one foot.

           “I’m sor—” Sam started before you cut him off.

           “Okay, third time’s the charm!” you said with panicked cheerfulness that you knew instantly was too much, but Sam stopped talking and dejectedly sat on his sled next to you.

           You and Sam spent probably an hour more sledding, your legs turning to jello underneath you as you ran up the hill over and over again and your cheeks getting more and more wind chapped, before Sam finally smiled, exasperated at some joke about still beating him up the hill with legs that were half as long. It was all the fuel you needed to keep chipping away at him until the sun started dropping and the chill broke through all your layers.

           The two of you plodded through the snow back to the car together. Gloves and sleds in the trunk, you flopped into the passenger seat with that sudden too-hot feeling of getting out of the wind and tore at your coat to desperately strip some layers. Sam threw his own jacket in the back. Without giving him a chance to protest or hook up his phone, you turned on the tape deck and Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here pounded out like rocky silk.

           “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. You looked over at Sam, who burst into a kind of frantic laughter that you completely understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing either, because of course this was playing during the tense peace on Dean’s birthday in Dean’s car, and then you and Sam were cry-laughing in the rapidly humidifying air of the Impala while Syd Barrett waxed poetic. By the time the second chunks of Shine On You Crazy Diamond started, you were gasping for air and clutching at your sides.

           You drove home after that in relative silence, the fatigue of fresh air and running all afternoon catching up with you. Sam took a shower while you put together burgers, switching spots with you to cook them while you washed up. They were pretty good due in large part to how seriously Wisconsinites take their cheese, bacon, and beef, and you wolfed yours long before your hair had stopped dripping onto the collar of the threadbare sweatshirt you’d changed into.

           The first shot of scotch burned like it always did, offsetting the sweet tang of the cherry pie and reminding you of the way Dean used to taste when you kissed him at the end of a long night. You looked out the window at the last purple glow of the sunset as it turned the evening into deep, endless inky blue.

           “I’ve gotta—I’m so sorry,” Sam spat out like the words were beating their way out of his mouth.

           “You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured, unable to immediately meet his gaze and looking down at your pie.

           “I just—I can’t—I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he stammered.

           You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole thing. “Join the club.”

           Sam smirked but it was mirthless. “No, I know, but it’s just…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He stabbed a deflated cherry with pursed lips, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. The fork clattered to his plate. “It’s not getting any easier. Every day I wake up and I’m so mad. It’s so fucking unfair that I have to stay here without him because I know that’s what he fucking wanted, and I feel like there’s no point in trying to have anything like good or normal because I’m just running out the clock. And then today’s Dean’s fucking birthday and I kiss his girlfriend—what is wrong with me?”

           The outburst hung in the air, a toxic smoke that excluded everything else. You slammed the rest of your glass of scotch, relishing the way it scalded. “So I’m just Dean’s girlfriend?”

           “No, that’s not what I—I mean I guess—it’s not like you aren’t—I don’t know, it just seems like you’ll always be his girlfriend.”

           “Are you still Jess’s boyfriend?”

           It was the absolute most cruel and wrong thing to say and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue and crashed into Sam, not even really knowing why you’d thought them. They distorted his face in incredulity and betrayal but you didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact until he snatched the bottle and refilled both glasses. When he spoke again his voice was gravelly and broken.

           “I guess I deserved that.”

           “Sam, this is fucking weird. It always has been, us being alive without Dean, and if you’re just now getting that then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s going on either, but I know that you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from ending up with a bullet in my skull or in a locked ward, so if you’re waiting for me to forgive you for something, for anything you’ve ever said or done, it’s already forgiven. But we’re too tied up together for every tiny redrawing of the boundaries to send us over the edge. Please.”

           “Tiny redrawing of boundaries? I kissed you!”

           “And I kissed you back, Sam! What do you want to do about it? What’s the absolution here? If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. Take the Impala and I’ll find some other car, I’ll borrow the Kaisers’ other one or something. Or maybe you want me to go and I’ll go; I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll leave right now, you never have to see me again if that’s what you want but I know Dean loved you and loved me and I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to torture yourself all the time so what is it that you want?”

           “I want us to be fucking normal and I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating with my brother’s girlfriend! I don’t want to have a cover story and I don’t want to keep running away!”

           “Then fucking stop! Stop feeling guilty and talk to me about this stuff!”

           Sam laughed, hard and bitter and choked off.

           “I’m serious. We can’t keep doing this shit, at least I can’t. We need to start talking—about Dean, about everything. It’s like this lump of decay and we’re just spraying Febreze and not dealing with it.”

           Sam’s mouth popped open as he tongued his molars. He bit his lip in frustration before crumpling up his napkin and threw it on top of his half-eaten pie. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

           You weren’t expecting that. For all the ways it had seemed like Dean had been the more emotionally closed off, he was always much easier for you to read than Sam, who managed somehow to talk about things without actually communicating how he felt. It was good if you needed to be supported but made it extremely hard to be there for him. Refilling your glasses a bit more conservatively, you offered up an open palm to let Sam go first. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

           “No bullshit?” he asked.

           “No bullshit. What’s the point of bullshitting anymore? After everything?”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 6

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[fangirlxwritesx67]

Special Occasion

Sam x Rowena, 2750 words Summary: Sam loves all the pretty little sexy things his lover wears. When she hints that she might like him to take a turn in the lingerie, he plans a surprise for her.  (This story fits in the Celebrations AU) 

With all the thanks to @cracksinthewalls, @there-must-be-a-lock​ and @mskathywriteswords​. Longer AN at the end. 

*** It was late morning, or early afternoon, Sam never really kept track of time when he was with Rowena. He woke up slowly and rolled to face her. She still slept, her curls spilling over the satin of her pillowcase, a deep blue-green color that made her skin, even in sleep, seem to glow. He leaned over to kiss her softly, and without opening her eyes, she shook her head.  “Beauty sleep,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. It was an old joke between them, her insisting that at her age, beauty sleep was a must; and him replying that she could sleep all she wanted but she could never look more beautiful.  He trailed his lips warmly over her jawline to the shell of her ear, where he whispered, “What if I make you tea?” That got her to look at him, the sleepiest of glances, and the tiniest nod. He got out of bed, pulled on jeans, and padded out to the kitchen barefoot. Rowena had this electric tea kettle thing that turned out to be surprisingly handy for all the cups of tea she drank. The habit had grown on him, and this morning, he was preparing two cups of Five Roses. No sooner had he gotten out the teacups than he heard Rowena’s light footsteps. He turned around to see her yawning as she slipped into a chair at the table.  “What?” he teased as he placed her tea in front of her. “Do you think I need supervision to make a simple cup of tea?” She arched her brows over the rim of the cup as she lifted it and lazily blew on the steam rising from it. He took the moment to look at her. She had slipped into a light green robe with swirls on it. Paisleys, maybe, he thought, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t have the words for half the things she wore. He didn’t have the words for her.

“Can I have a biscuit, my dear?” Her request interrupted his thoughts. 

Sam shook his head but obeyed. As he set the tin of shortbread down on the table, he asked her, “You always get whatever you want, don’t you?”

“As long as you’re here to give it to me,” she retorted. The glint in her green eyes, the saucy curve of her lips, hinted at much more than tea and biscuits. 

Instead of answering, he bent to kiss her. His hand skimmed over her shoulder and down her back to pull her closer. The green robe was sleek under his touch. It felt good, and he took a moment to enjoy the sensation of smooth fabric against his calloused palms. “I like this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Rowena acted almost offended at his suggestion that she would wear the same thing twice. 

Sam was pretty sure her closet was part of some magic spell, because there was no way this apartment had room for half the beautiful things she wore, even if some of them were nothing more than bits of sheer cloth and lace. 

“Too bad I just have to take it off of you,” Sam teased as he folded to his knees in front of the chair where she was seated. 

“Oh do you?” She lowered her gaze and batted her lashes, putting on the tiniest pout. She was flirting hard, but he was such a sucker for it. She took a long drink from the teacup. 

“Maybe not yet,” he murmured as he pushed the hem up over her pale thighs, parting them with his fingers before pulling her forward. He trailed kisses up from her knee to her warm center, and when his lips finally pressed against her there, he heard the cup hit the saucer with a shaky ringing sound. 

*** Rowena forgot about everything when she had Sam between her legs like that. He was so good, knew her body so well. Sometimes he drew it out, teased her, made her beg. Not today. He seemed as eager to please her as she was to be pleasured. 

He drew a soft orgasm from her easily with nothing but his lips and tongue. It was her first of the day, but she knew it was far from the last. ***

Rowena was still trembling when Sam scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to bed, her body warm and yielding under the robe. 

“You know,” she said as she settled back against the pillows, eyes wide and sparkling, “It’s not only women who can wear beautiful things.” 

“Oh?” Sam grinned, trying to think of what she could be getting at. “Do you have a me-sized robe in that magic closet of yours? Want to dress me up in something short and shiny?”

“Please,” she whispered, but if she meant, “Please as if I would waste the space” or “Please I wish you would” he didn’t know. Maybe please was a response to the way he was rising up over her, pinning her wrists back with his hands, nudging her legs apart with one knee to open her up for him. 

In the close heat of her desire, Sam forgot all about the conversation. 

But he remembered later, when he went back home to the bunker. Thinking about the whole thing made him feel some confusing feelings. A little curiosity, more than a little embarrassment, but also, if he was honest, kinda turned on. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar. So one day when he had his laptop open, he started searching.

He had picked out lingerie for Rowena before, so he started on those sites, but it was very obvious very quickly that nothing there would fit him.

Then he typed in “lingerie for men.” For the most part, it was a series of very brief underpants, many of them paired with a collar or cuffs that were somehow supposed to indicate a character. He browsed with an increasing sense of confusion, wondering if Rowena wanted him to look like a cowboy or a Chippendale’s dancer. 

“Whoa there.” Dean’s voice startled him and he slammed the laptop shut. “When you said you were doing research I didn’t think --”

Sam leapt to his feet and turned to face his brother. He could feel himself blushing, but he may as well be honest. “It’s not what you think.”

“Look, dude, some of those guys are good looking. I get it.” 

Sam tried to nod and shake his head at once, and ended up just heaving out a big sigh. “It’s not that. It’s Rowena.” 

“Oh I should’ve known, that kinky little witch!” Dean laughed, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “Wait. Do you really think she wants you to look like a Halloween store Village People?” 

Sam smacked his brother across the back affectionately. “Some help you are.”

Dean calmed down at that. He put one hand on Sam’s arm. “Think of what the lady wears. Slinky things, lace, garter stockings, right? That’s what she likes.” 

Before Sam could ask how Dean was so sure Rowena wore a garter belt, he was gone. Maybe it was obvious, or maybe it was that one case where she had hidden a cursed dagger in the band of her stockings. 

He waited, looking over his shoulder as he opened the laptop, and carefully typed in, “garter belt for men.” Ohhhh. Maybe it was because of how strongly he associated them with Rowena. Maybe it was because they were at once more serious and more soft than the silly outfits he found first. For whatever reason, he liked these more. They looked sexy. 

Sam ordered a bunch of things, not the incredibly complicated things that were mostly straps, or the leather things. He didn’t think he was ready for that. But he got a garter belt, and a couple of pairs of stockings. He got a few different panties, because how was he supposed to know if he liked briefs or bikinis? He ordered it all in black, because that was foolproof. 

He didn’t think he should be barefoot for this look, but he was also pretty sure he couldn't walk in heels. Instead he bought a pair of low heeled men’s dress boots, reasoning that he could always wear them when he was pretending to be the FBI. 

He remembered how much he liked the feel of Rowena’s robe under his fingers, so he got himself a short robe too. And with that, he gave himself an out -- if she hated this look, if he felt too silly, he could just put on the robe until he could escape to the bathroom and take it all off. 

Sam waited with nervous excitement until the packages arrived, and then he tried on his new things. He tore the first pair of stockings he tried on, and then a quick internet search informed him that he had to roll them up from the toes. He thought about shaving, but ultimately decided against it. He was already putting in a lot of work to look good. 

He hadn’t much thought about looking good before, or putting effort into appearing sexy. Clothes for him had always been a necessity, something he bought cheaply and used until they wore out. What he liked hadn’t ever mattered much. And buying something this impractical? It was an entirely new experience. Even the robe was more revealing and indulgent than anything he had ever owned. 

But he did want to do what Rowena asked, loved the idea of giving her a happy surprise. So he texted her. When can I come see you again?

Friday. I’ll be out until dinner but you have the key.

Perfect.

He arranged for a late dinner to be delivered and got there early, giving himself plenty of time to get dressed. Belt and stockings, boots, a pair of satin panties trimmed with lace. He wrapped the robe over top, tying it shut at his waist while he waited. 

He found himself pacing the floor, listening to the strike of his heels. He kept the lights off but lit all the candles scattered around the room. He hoped he wasn't wrong. He hoped this was what Rowena wanted. He had paused for a moment to look out the window, trying to calm his racing heart, when the door opened. 

"Samuel?” He heard the surprise in her familiar lilting tone. 

*** Rowena knew Sam was there, sensed he was up to something. But never in all her three hundreds years had she thought she would see him all dressed up in bits of lace. 

“Ohhhhh,” she sighed softly. 

Even in her favorite fantasies, nothing she had imagined had prepared her for the way Sam looked. When he stepped away from her window, broad shoulders backlit by the city below, there was the slightest sway to his walk, a little sass she had never seen before.

When she untied his robe, felt the cool silk brush against his warm skin, and saw what he was wearing underneath -- it was all she could do not to fall to her knees in front of him right there. He had the longest legs she had ever seen, and yet the stockings fit perfectly, hugging the shape of his calves and his sculpted thighs. 

That broad expanse of bare skin, so warm and golden, framed in the skimpiest bits of black satin -- the contrast of his strength with the delicacy of the lace -- he looked like a god, and he was hers, all hers to worship. 

She wasn’t sure who moved first, him or her, just that suddenly she was in his arms, pressed up against the length of his body as he bent to kiss her, dark hair brushing her face before his lips ever met hers. She had always loved his height compared to hers, the way he could loom over her if he wanted, and his heeled boots only emphasized it. She slipped her fingers around his waist, enjoying the texture of fabric under her touch, and under it, the curve of his perfect ass. 

***

Rowena held out her hand and Sam took it, lacing his fingers in with hers and allowing her to lead him to the bedroom. She flicked on the bedside lamps to get a better view. Sam tried to stand in an attractive way but he had no idea how. As her gaze took him in from head to toe, he grew self conscious. 

"I'll bet I look pretty silly,” he said. 

***

“Silly, never. Pretty --” 

Pretty didn’t even begin to touch it. Beautiful, maybe, the way a piece of art was beautiful, an astounding specimen of the human form. She looked him over from head to toe. He tried to pose, the mighty hunter suddenly awkward, but she could see how he was trying, how every much he wanted her to like this, and it made him all the more endearing. 

When her gaze settled on his face, she saw hesitancy, as if he was afraid to disappoint her, but not a shred of shame. In fact, he looked almost proud, an impossibly delicious smirk curling his lips and pushing dimples into his sculpted cheeks. 

But there was more to it. Sam was so dead earnest, nothing silly or joking about him, only a burning desire to please. Even through his shyness, she could tell, he was also faintly aware that he looked amazing. He knew the effect he was having on her, was getting turned on by feeling desirable, and his kaleidoscope eyes sparkled with delight. 

***

Rowena laid her hand on Sam’s chest. He obeyed her slighted touch, settling on the edge of the bed. Then he drew her in close to stand between his knees, a familiar position that put their faces at the same height. 

“You like this?” he asked. The look she gave him, all sizzling desire, would’ve been answer enough. Her eyes and hands roamed his body before she finally spoke. 

"You have no idea,” she said, closing her sweet mouth over his for a passionate open mouthed kiss. She trailed her fingers slowly up his thighs, over the seams of his stockings, treating him to the most delicious friction as the delicate netting tugged and shifted over his legs.

"I had no idea,” he gasped. “Feels good, so good --"

But before he could finish the thought, she folded to the floor in front of him.  Her touch trailed under the bands of his stockings, sharp nails brushing his skin. She wound the straps of his garter belt around her fingers and twisted. He felt the close tugging friction all the way around his hips. 

Leaning forward, she closed her lips over him through the satin and lace of his panties. It was the most amazing feeling, damp and close but still muted by the silky fabric. All other words deserted him except for her name.

"Rowena." He sighed. "What --"

"Just enjoy this," she purred before her lips closed around him again. Her hands slipped around his waist and into the back of his panties to cup his ass. When she spoke again, she murmured the words against his skin. "Such a good boy, doing whatever I ask."

She pleasured him until he was breathing hard, until his fingers tangled in her long red curls, until he could no longer hold back a ragged moan. Then she pulled away, standing up to strip down to her own intricate lingerie. 

She tied his hands up with the sash from his robe before settling astride him. He tolerated that just long enough for her to get off, and then turned the tables with the sash around her shoulders, holding her close. The two of them reveled in each other's bodies and all the sensations of lace and silk. Over and over, orgasm after orgasm, curses and cries and laughter all mingled together. 

When they were finally sated, both of them long since bare before one another, Sam turned towards Rowena. She was already facing him in bed, freckled skin flushed, curls tousled and clinging around her face. 

“I always knew you liked the garter belt and stockings.” 

She just raised her brows and batted her lashes slowly. “I think you like them too.” 

He cupped her face in one broad hand and she met his kiss-bitten lips with her own, one more time. 

“Maybe.” He winked broadly. “But only for special occasions.”  *** AN: this started in a writing chat when I asked, “How many times is too many times for one character to wear a garter belt and stockings?” @cracksinthewalls answered: “Rowena wears them every day, but Sam, only on special occasions.  @there-must-be-a-lock wrote a head canon on this that also involved a certain angel.  Pictures were exchanged (purely for scientific purposes, of course) and now ... here we are. @cracksinthewalls and @mskathywriteswords​ provided the prereads. It’s a little different for me but I hope you enjoy! 

SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho​​ @dawnie1988​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @defenderrosetyler​​ @divadinag​​ @emoryhemsworth​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​ @idreamofplaid​​ @kalesrebellion​​ @kickingitwithkirk​​ @maddiepants​​ @magssteenkamp​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​   @there-must-be-a-lock​​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @tloveswriting​​

Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia​ @sammit-janet​ @lovealways-j

Rowena My Queen: @delightfullykrispypeach​​ @lilsylvia​​ @pansexualdarling​​ @songofthecagedmoose​​

[mummybear]

Getting Into Trouble

This Is Day 5 Of Roleplay May

Words: 4114

Warnings: Smut, Wall Sexy, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Think That’s It :P

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, (Marie) Reader’s Best Friend (OC), Sam Winchester, Unnamed Club Bitches

Summary: Meeting your best friend Marie at your local nightclub turns out to be a more exciting night that you had originally planned. Especially when your favourite doorman is on duty and doesn’t take his eyes off of you all night. This is also for @deanwanddamons​1Kfollowerchallenge So happy for you babe you deserve it :D I had the prompt .....  ‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

A cold chill whips through the summer air as you step out of the cab, quickly leaning inside the window to pay the driver. It doesn’t take long for you to approach the steps of the club, it’s a small but popular place. A place which had been quickly growing in popularity, largely thanks to the hot staff it had recently acquired, both inside and outside of the establishment. At least that’s what you had heard, however, you and your best friend Marie had been coming here for years before the change.

A small smile slips onto your lips when you spot your favourite bouncer and doorman, right at the front of the crowd standing on the very first step. He’s looking as handsome as ever, light brown hair styled just so, green eyes that are practically shining with that bad boy twinkle when he winks at you. 

He’s not as wide as the other guys, but he towers over them in height. With broad shoulders that you’ve often imagined clinging to and bow legs like no other man you’d ever seen. He’s dressed simply, but god does he wear all black extremely well. Tight black t-shirt, which you know from experience has the word security printed on the back in white block letters, with what look like tailor made pants and smart black shoes.

“Hey there sweetheart, long time no see” he greets you, just as friendly and charming as ever, with a gorgeous grin that’s all perfect teeth and plump lips. He takes your ID from you, letting his fingers gently graze yours, quickly glancing at it before he hands it back.

“Yeah it’s been a while, you’re still looking real good though” you smile sweetly, the tip of your tongue poking out between your lips as your eyes rake over him, appreciating every perfect inch of that man. 

“Uh, thanks” the blush that coats his freckled cheeks is so cute, you would’ve thought he was used to the compliments by now. He licks hips plump pink lips and flicks his eyes up to meet yours again. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn sexy yourself” he rasps, voice sounding a little deeper than before as he nips at his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Hopefully I’ll see you later and you’ll finally tell me your name this time” you smile back, returning his earlier wink and tucking your ID back in your bag. 

 “I’d really like that. Just don’t go and get yourself into any trouble. I will throw you over my shoulder this time” he warns you playfully, you don’t miss how he lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body. 

You have to practically press your body against his to get inside, what with the amount of people trying to squeeze inside all at once. You look up at him through your black lashes, giving him your best seductive look. “Oh, promises, promises Mr green eyes. I might just have to get myself into a little trouble then” you wink as he shakes his head at you, giving you a gentle shove inside. 

“Go! I’ve gotta work!” he laughs, finally turning away from you.

The moment that you actually step into the club you realise just how busy it really is tonight. There’s the odd cluster of people here and there blocking your path. People that you almost have to fight your way through, as well as the idiots paying no attention and filtering in and out, being stopped by the doormen and bouncers for god only knows what reason.

The music is quite literally pumping, to the point that you can feel the vibrations under your feet. You really need a damn drink right now and the bar is completely packed. You were really happy with your outfit tonight though, choosing it hadn’t been too difficult once you’d found the right dress. It fit your body perfectly, it was black and purple and stopped a little above your knees. Luckily your heels weren’t too high, since you were definitely planning on dancing tonight, preferably without getting blisters.

You sigh defeated, seeing the size of the lines at the bar, as they continue to grow before your eyes.

Until you spot your best friend waving at you from her usual table by the bar. Relief fills you as you get ever closer, where you notice that she’s already gotten a few rounds at the table and of course she couldn’t forgo the shots. That would definitely save you the wait, meaning that you could get this night started right.

“So, I see Mr green eyes is back, he asked about you by the way,” Marie practically shouts into your ear as she pulls you into a hug.

“Yes he is and considering he works here babe, that’s not too strange” you laugh, ignoring her final comment, you pull back to look at her. “Oh and hello to you too by the way” 

“Sorry love I’ll behave. Or I’ll try at least” she winks as you both take your seats. You shake your head at her with a wry smile, unable to stop the scoff falling past your lips. 

“Yeah that’ll be the day, you’re worse than me!” laughing as you clink your shot glasses together, resting a hand over her heart Marie gasps. “Down the hatch, you dork!” you shout over the loud music and that fake hurt dissolves almost immediately making way for her devilish grin beneath.

Your time together is filled with conversations of mutual friends and things you’d both done since last meeting up. Not forgetting the unsuccessful dates you had both been on, Marie can’t help but remark that you’re sexually frustrated. “I dunno what you’re talking about honey, I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. Me and Mr Vibrator have it very much under control” you wink when she snorts with laughter, almost choking on her drink.

“Oh that is not the fucking same Y/N! And you damn well know it!” replying through a laugh while pushing another shot towards you. You roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile at her. You’d really missed this and as usual Marie understood more than she knew. “Nothing like a good hard fucking, which you so clearly need!” 

“I am not fucking some stranger! You know that’s just not me, besides who says some random guy is gonna be any good” you reason as she shrugs at your answer. 

“Doesn’t have to be a complete and total stranger. We both know someone who is just dying to get into those twisted panties of yours. Pretty sure that’s a man who knows his way around a woman” she winks, nodding over to where Mr green eyes is now standing, clearly it was time for a switch around at the club, since he’d come inside with one of his buddies and was chatting about something.

“Would you drop it woman! That man is so far out of my league. So can I please just have a great night out with my girl!” you sigh pushing another shot towards her with a pout.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. But he would be lucky to get in those pants” you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile as you take your next shot, she’d always been the best wing woman going.

The drinks keep flowing, thanks to the hot barman that Marie is currently waving at, he had apparently been trying to hook up with her for a while, but she was adamant they were only friends. It doesn’t take very long for the two of you to have a steady buzz going, after around five shots each and whatever cocktails she’d ordered before you’d got there.

“I wanna dance, come on. Please” your friend pouts at you, grabbing at your hand and dragging you off in the direction of the dance floor, she doesn’t give you time to argue. 

Those puppy dog eyes she gives you tends to always do the trick. Although, if you were being honest you were also in the mood for a dance, to try and get some of the pent up energy out of your system. Keeping your fingers crossed that hopefully you could stop your mind from wandering, back to that sexy green eyed doorman, which thanks to your wing woman was becoming increasingly difficult. 

The music was practically vibrating through your entire body as you and Marie stepped onto the dance floor. Christina Aguilera’s Dirty had just started playing, you glance up and spot Mr green eyes across the room, he was with  another doorman now, the only guy that you were aware of who was actually taller than him. To your surprise he’s looking right at you, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Marie walks behind you and grabs your hips, pressing herself tight against your back.

“What are you doing woman!” you laugh as she rests her chin on your shoulder, the two of you start to rock to the beat in time with one another, raising your arms in the air as you continue to rock back against her.

“Just go with it! He has not stopped staring at you since we stood up. Not to mention he’s with the tallest man I’ve ever seen and I’ve got the sudden urge to go man climbing” 

You burst out laughing at the serious way she says that, “Want a ride on man mountain huh?” you ask still half laughing as both continue moving to the beat, Marie giggles behind you as the beat speeds up. You’re slowly becoming more distracted as you watch them both move closer, your own hands start moving over your body, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

You drop down slowly, your ass pressing back into Marie, until you settle back on the heels of your feet, thinking back to a move in the music video for this song. You can feel the muscles of your calves and thighs tense as you lean forward slightly. Slowly sliding your hands down your thighs, stopping at your knees as you part your legs and quickly snap them shut again. Standing slowly, you keep your eyes fixed on Mr. Green eyes, whose fists are currently clenched at his sides. 

You don’t notice the way that his friend is staring at Marie as you push back into her with your ass, both of you laughing as she swats at it playfully and wraps her arms around you from behind. 

However, your happy moods are soon ruined when a drunk group of girls fight to get past you, the one at the front bumps into you and Marie, nearly knocking you both on your asses.

“Watch where you’re going!” she slurs shoving at your shoulders, causing you to stumble back a little unsteady on your heels.

“I’m sorry. What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who’s clearly drunk off their ass here. You walked into us!” you shout back over the music, resisting the urge to shove her back.

“Get your bitch in line. Nobody talks to my sister like that” one of the other girls squawks, sounding like an angry bird, as they all step closer to the both of you.

“What did you just fucking call her!” Marie snaps, stepping closer to the group. Where she receives a chorus of ‘you heard’ from the group of idiots. “Get your moron sister in line then, if she can’t walk straight she probably shouldn’t be here. She’s clearly had too much and needs to get her childish ass home!” Marie responds irritation lacing her tone as she tries to reason with these people. Just about managing to dodge out of the way just in time to avoid another shove.

“Stop fucking shoving people” you practically growl, finally your control snaps, shoving back as hard as you can, sending one of the girls stumbling back into the group.

“You stupid slut!” the defender shouts, raising her fist. But she’s quickly blocked by a large body and hand that’s twice the size catches her balled up fist.

“I warned you! You’re coming with me, Miss” someone growls to your side, you recognise that voice instantly, you can’t help but grin happily. Not quick enough to move away or turn to look at him properly before he throws you over one of those broad shoulders, causing you to let out an excited scream..

Your eyes search for Marie when you hear her over the music somehow. Finding her in an almost identical position to your own. Once she’s thrown over the giant's shoulder Marie gives you a thumbs up, smacking his ass as he walks away with her. The scenery behind you bumps around, swaying awkwardly as you’re carried through several doors, clinging to the back of his t-shirt for dear life as he walks..

Another door is kicked open, where you feel the cool breeze blow across your almost naked ass.

“So, where are we going Mr. mysterious?” you question, your voice dipping with his every step. 

When suddenly the back door to the club swings closed behind you with a loud bang.

A surprised noise you don’t recognise leaves your lips when he returns your earlier hit. With a harsh slap to your ass. Since apparently your dress had ridden up, it was a little more skin on skin that you’d been expecting. 

You hear him chuckle, right before he tugs the bottom of your dress down and bends over, carefully lowering you until your feet touch the ground again.You look up at him with a smile when his hands grab your hips, making sure that you’re stable on your own. 

Running your hands up his strong chest, your touch remains light, enjoying the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt. It’s really dark out here, with no real light. Only a few neon lights to light the alley way.

“I’m not sure that I approve of you manhandling-” your words are silenced when his plump lips suddenly press against yours, with an urgency you hadn’t expected. 

Your hands fist in his tight t-shirt in an attempt to pull his body closer, while he walks you backwards and presses you into the wall. You feel his tongue brush against your lips when they part, gripping your leg tight he hooks it over his hip, rolling his hips into you. You can feel the bulge through his black pants, pressing against the front of your panties, nudging repeatedly at your clit. The way he feels against you only encourages you to rock back against him.

Your tongues finally meet and you can taste the faint whiskey that lingers there, somehow you knew he’d be a whiskey man. 

Your hands move to fist in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours and the groan that fills the back of his throat, he even manages to pull a small moan slips past your lips.

“Name’s Dean by the way” he breathes against your lips, before pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

“Y/N. Fuck…. Dean suits you,” you reply in a breathy moan, throwing your head back against the brick wall as he starts kissing down your neck, pausing to suck and nip marks into your skin.

“Wanted to do this for so long. Getting me told off every time you come in sweetheart, can’t damn well concentrate on the job” he groans against your ear, pushing your dress up around your waist so he can grip your ass tight with those big calloused hands.

“Me too, I would say I was sorry, but I don’t wanna lie” you confess with a half-hearted giggle, gasping when his finger brushes against your soaked pussy from behind, briefly dipping under your panties. 

Your hands slip between the two of you. Dean leans back a little, catching on to what you’re doing, allowing you to undo his belt while he pushes a hand between your legs. You whimper when his fingers start to run back and forth over the front of your damn panties.

Once his pants are open you shove them down those gorgeous bow legs as far as you can. Dean lets out a throaty groan when your fingers wrap around his thick hard length. Letting his forehead drop forward against yours when you start to move your hand over him, up and down, feeling the thick muscle throb against your palm.

“You’re so wet baby, can’t wait to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock” Dean whispered huskily against your lips, pushing your panties to the side, he eases two thick fingers inside you. 

Your free hand clings to his bicep, looking into his eyes as your pussy stretches deliciously around his fingers. The perfect drag against your tight walls as he starts moving his fingers inside you, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

“Dean, fuck me. Please. I need you inside me” you whine desperately, rolling your hips down into his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. 

Chuckling deep and breathy, Dean curls his fingers teasingly as your thumb swipes across the swollen tip, smearing the thick pre-come down his length. 

Which triggers you both to moan into each other's mouths. 

Pulling your hands away from one another, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, as he sucks his slick covered fingers between his plump lips. Transfixed you watch the way his tongue swirls around his fingers and he moans, keeping his darkened green eyes locked on yours. As he pulls them from his mouth with an audible pop.

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice sweetheart” he tells you with a grin and that panty dropping wink.

You can faintly hear the music that’s playing in the club, the bass pounding against your back. The lyrics you manage to hear work so damn well for your current situation and you’re almost convinced that Marie had requested it. 

‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

You jump when he taps your leg, that bad boy twinkle still very much present in those gorgeous eyes of his. He lifts you easily, slamming you back against the wall. You whimper at the force of it, the rough brick scraping against your back and arms, as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Gripping his cock Dean watches it slip through your slick folds, his own lips parting, pulling breathy moans and whimpers from you. “You want my cock sweetheart? You want it hard, right where anyone could see us?” Dean rasps, fingers digging into your ass as he shifts you slightly. 

“Fuck yes! Please, Dean!” 

Your hands push into the hair at the back of his neck gripping tightly when he finally stops teasing and lines up with your entrance. Catching his bottom lip between your lips you suck gently, before dragging your teeth over it as he slowly enters your welcoming heat. 

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you squeeze your eyes shut, finally releasing his lip when he thrusts up into you hard, causing the rough bricks to cut into your back. 

Dean hisses in pain when your fingers dig into his scalp, hair woven between your fingers as you tug. Pulling back he repeats the action, quickly thrusting his hips forward roughly plunging back into your soaking wet pussy.

Picking up a slow steady rhythm, deep and powerful, his teeth tug at the skin along your collarbone, creating a little sting of pain which only adds to the pleasure. Tugging the front of your dress out of the way with the cup of your bra, he keeps those green eyes locked on yours as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, tugging with his plump lips and sharp teeth. Groaning against your skin he swirls that talented tongue around the slowly hardening bud, the snap of his hips pushing your heels into his firm ass.

You’re forced to slap a hand over your mouth when he thrusts particularly hard, to stop yourself from screaming his name, feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to wind and clench as the head of his cock bumps repeatedly against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

There’s the obvious feeling when his lips pull into a smile against your breast, he draws back, dragging those perfect white teeth over the stiff peak. One of his big hands wraps around your wrists and pins them back against the wall as his thrusts begin to speed up.

“Don’t hold it in. Wanna fucking here you screaming for me. I don’t care who hears you begging for my cock” he practically growls, fingers flexing against your ass cheek as the blunt nails dig into your skin.

Your head is swimming with his words, every feeling amplified by the thought of anyone catching you both in the act. “Holy shit you’ve got a dirty mouth, Dean” you pant against his lips, nails digging into your palms. The scratching of the rough brick as it drags against your soft skin, causes you to whimper with every snap of his hips.

“And don’t you just love it, bad girl,” he grunts with an edge of a chuckle, when he feels your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, squeezing and clamping down. Your only answer is filled with nonsensical and incoherent sentences, the only thing that comes out clearly is the chanting of his name, with a mixture of mumbled cussing and pleas. 

Your thighs start to shake as Dean squeezes a hand between the two of you, rough calloused fingers pressing against your clit, hard fast circles as his fingers tighten around your wrists.

“Fuck Dean! Just like that, please!” 

Your head drops back against the wall, only seeing the black night sky and stars, which starts to mix with the neon lights as the feeling overwhelms you. Your orgasm hits you hard, rocketing through your every nerve ending like lightning, but Dean doesn’t stop thrusting. 

“Son of bitch! Should have done this ages ago. So damn perfect Y/N. Gonna fucking fill you up sweetheart”

Clenching his jaw Dean presses his face into your neck, his hot breath against your skin. 

The hand that’s gripping your wrists drops, resting against the wall as he bucks into your pussy at an uncontrollable pace, your slick soaking his thighs. 

The vibrations of his every growl and moan, mixed with the pounding of his hips. Only serving to prolong your orgasm, so much so that you’re forced into another mind blowing climax, pushing Dean into his own release right behind you. You feel his orgasm hit, causing his thighs to shake under your ass. 

A huff of air is released from your lungs when Dean practically collapses on top of you, leaning on his hand as much as possible.

You quickly feel his weight shift as he pulls his chest away from yours slightly, you feel him smile against your lips when he presses a kiss to them. You can’t help but whimper at the loss and sensitivity when he pulls his hips back, his softening cock slipping from inside you. 

“Did I miss something? What’s so funny. Mr green eyes?” you smile back, still breathing a little heavily as he helps you rearrange your dress and pulls up his black pants and boxers. 

Shrugging he turns to look over his shoulder, following his line of sight your heart almost jumps out of your chest. There’s a security camera sitting just under the guttering, red light blinking away undisturbed.

“I guess for someone in security I probably should’ve remembered that was there, huh?” he laughs still out of breath, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“You think!?” you exclaim doing your best to sound annoyed, until the laughter starts to bubble up in your throat. “Get your ass in there and get that video!” you playfully scold him, making sure to smack that tight little ass.

“You want me to wipe it from the record?” he asks with a smirk and that bad boy twinkle in his eyes.

Biting your lip you shake your head, “Just do what you need to. Get it and let's go” 

“You’re a bad influence on me sweetheart” the wink he throws your way says otherwise.

“I might have believed that, if you hadn’t just fucked my brains out, in the alley against the building where you work” you laugh gently pushing him towards the back door you’d both left through earlier.

“Touche” Dean chuckles, grabbing your hand and tugging you inside. 

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[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new  potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

[holylulusworld]

The right guy

Summary: Dean is more than a rebound guy to you and his brother doesn’t like it a bit.

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader, former AU!Sam x Reader, Sam x Jess (mentioned)

Warnings: angst, language, arguments, jealous Sam, OOC Sam

A/N: Sequel to Rebound Guy

 Six months later…

Jessica Moore, daughter of Mr. Marcus Moore and Karen Moore,

 and Sam Campbell, son of Mrs. Mary Cambell,

 request the honor of your presence

 at their wedding

 on the twenty-eighth of May, two thousand twenty

 at two o'clock in the afternoon

 Regency Hallway Ballroom

 Lebanon, Kansas

 Dinner & dancing to follow

 Black tie & robe required

Dean has to reread the invitation he got to his brothers wedding thrice to be sure Sam didn’t even name his father. While he sulks silently, ready to rip the invitation into tiny pieces you snuggle closer to him.

“What killed your mood, Baby?” Leaning your head against Dean’s shoulder you glance at the envelope in his hands. You recognize the handwriting – it’s Sam’s. “Sam…huh?”

“He didn’t call or talk to me for over two months again and now he sends me an invitation to his freaking wedding. See, he didn’t even name our father.” Dean sniffles, as you crawl onto his lap to cup his face. “I know dad and Sammy, they had bad blood but this…this is…”

“Sam should be ashamed, Dean. This has nothing to do with arguments or living the life you want. Naming only his mother is…”

Nodding Dean tosses the invitation onto the table to place his hands at small of your back. “Your father found his mother's murderer if anything this is worth to be named.”

“I know…” Dean sighs deeply, not understand how Sam could be that cold-hearted to not name John.

He knows that his father was far from being good at parenting but Sam became the man he is thanks to his father. “We should do something else than attending a wedding we are not wanted at…”

“Dean, he sent you an invitation…” You try to find a way to survive Sam’s wedding and to not let Dean down. “I…I hate to attend this wedding too, Dean. Sam, he made me feel like I am not good enough.”

“You’re not the one who fucked up, Y/N. It was Sam’s fault and I must admit.” Pecking your lips Dean grins up at you. “I love he lost you ‘cause it’s my win…”

“Can I be honest, Dean?” Humming Dean runs his hands up and down your back. “I loved Sam, but he gave me the feeling I have to fake things sometimes.”

“Orgasms?” Now you snicker. Dean has the talent to distract you from intrusive thoughts. “I dare you to fake anything with me, Sweetheart.”

“Nah. This wasn’t about sex. In the beginning, it was a wild ride, ya know. Unlike you, Sam lost interested one day. I thought that like other pairs…” 

You know you sound like a fool and stop to find excuses. “I think I knew the moment Sam stopped kissing my neck in the morning or to drag me into the shower to have a quickie that he had someone else on his mind. I was just too chicken to confront him…”

“I’d like to drag you into the shower right fucking now, Sweetheart.” Licking your lips, you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck. “You’re a red-blooded woman and I love it. When you bend over my car, I want nothing more than to marry you or fuck you right there and then…”

“Difficult decision, Mr. Winchester. How about we stay with fucking me over the hood and keep the marrying me part for later…” Dean nods eagerly, already sliding his hands down your ass to grope it roughly when the doorbell rings.

“Son of a bitch! Can a man not have dirty sex on his car with his girl on a Sunday morning?”

Reluctantly shoving you off his lap Dean gets up, but not without having a good look at your ass in one of his boxers. “Love you are wearing one of my shirts, Sweetheart.”

While you give Dean a wink, already walking toward the kitchen when he opens the door, your boyfriend freezes. Someone he didn’t want to see after getting the invitation leans against his doorframe.

“Did you get my invitation?” Sam looks over Dean’s shoulder to get a glimpse of you only in your panties and one of Dean’s shirts. An unreadable look on his face Sam watches you place a tray onto the table. 

If Sam would be honest, he would admit that deep down inside he had hoped that you and Dean broke up. That his elder brother was only a rebound guy to you but here you are, beautiful as ever, maybe even more beautiful while you are wearing the wrong man’s shirt.

“I got it like three days ago.” Not giving away he’s disappointed, hurt even, Dean crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Won’t you let me in?” Sam’s eyes are still glued to you when Dean clears his throat and you look at him, recognizing Sam lusting over you. “Dean?”

“I have to discuss this with my girlfriend before I let you in. We invite people…together.” The door closes and you can’t stop the snorts leaving your lips.

“So…we invite people together now, Babe?” Dean shrugs, glancing at your exposed legs, suddenly too aware of what his brother was staring at the whole time.

“How about I change into something less revealing and you can talk to your brother. I’ll stay in the bedroom…”

“My girlfriend will not hide in a room to avoid my brother. If you want me to attend his wedding and let him in, you’ll stay by my side. Sam can’t come here and ruin our Sunday morning rituals only as he wants me to attend his shitty wedding.” A smile on your lips your cup Dean’s face to kiss him softly. 

“I’ll change and we can have breakfast. Thanks to you, I don’t want to kill your brother any longer…” Pecking Dean’s lips again you smirk.

“Why?” While you walk toward your shared bedroom, sway in your hips you turn around to give Dean a wink. “Y/N?”

“I’ll tell you later, Dean. Now let your brother in as the ‘bend me over your car’ part ain’t off the table.” Dean nods eagerly, a dirty grin on his lips. “Love you, Babe.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” A love confession leaving his lips easily is something Dean never imagined before but here he is, head over heels for you, his brother’s ex-girlfriend…

“Rules.” Dean glances at the bedroom door, waits for you to come out while he makes sure Sam will behave. “No staring at my girl, no mentioning of your past or pulling shit like last time.”

“Okay…fine…” Sam licks his lips, hearing the door open.

“I mean it, Samuel.” Lump in his throat Sam looks at his brother. Dean never called him Samuel before, not a single time. Not when he found him after he left. Not at John’s burial.

“Y/N and I met without knowing you were her ex. Cut the crap and live with the fact that your ex-girlfriend, the one you dropped for Jess, is my best girl now.”

Dean’s eyes follow Sam’s when you step out of the bedroom. Both men look you all over, drink your outfit in while you only have eyes for Dean. Wearing shorts, a crop top, and no shoes you walk toward Sam, offering your hand with a faked smile.

“Samuel. What brings you into our simple home?” Your smile turns cold. You saw the look on Sam’s face. Dean is a simple guy, doesn’t need fancy furniture, just like you.

All you needed to feel comfortable in his apartment was a few fluffy pillows, a new mattress, and decorative crap – as Dean calls the fairies on the bookshelf or the colorful vase you placed onto the kitchen counter.

“Y/N…” Sam chokes out watching you sit next to his brother, not him. Dean’s hand places yours onto his thigh and you smile at the gentle gesture. 

“I…I wanted to say I am sorry for the way I ended our relationship and my reaction the last time we met here.”

“What’s past is past, Samuel. If I am completely honest, our relationship never fulfilled me.” You can see Sam’s face fall when you lean your head against Dean’s shoulder. “I have to thank you for treating me like trash.”

Sam looks at you, surprised by your words. “Thank me? I don’t think I understand…”

“Well, without you acting like an idiot I would’ve never met my soulmate, the man loving me the way I am, Sam. Without you, I would’ve never gone to a bar to get drunk and forget I wasted years on a man not loving me enough to support my dreams.” 

Your words are like daggers to Sam’s heart, but he must admit – he brought it upon himself. 

“So…thank you, Sam.” Your smile is genuine now and it makes Sam realize, you mean what you said. Dean is the man holding your hand, and he’s the person getting to see you smile. “I hope you are as happy as I am about your decision to end us.”

“Yeah…uh—ahem. I am happy, very happy.” Sam is not very convincing but you let it slip as you don’t want to cause trouble between Dean and his brother.

“That’s the reason I am here, to be honest. We need confirmation that you will attend our wedding.”

Hopefully, almost desperate Sam looks at his elder brother, the last family he’s got left. “I don’t know if you want a Winchester at your wedding.” Dean tries to control his anger and disappointment, tries to ignore Sam did not name his father. 

“You’re mad about the names on the invitation…I get it.” While Dean squeezes your hand, you try to encourage him to let his frustration out.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if your brother, the only family you have left not only changed his surname but also pretended for years to have no family. Then he sends you an invitation to his wedding and doesn’t even name his father…” 

You tried to keep your mouth shut but you saw the hurting in Dean’s eyes and just can’t stop your tongue from slipping. “That was low, Samuel. Even if you and your father didn’t get along well, you could’ve named him. He wasn’t a monster, only a man on a mission…”

“A possessive bastard.” Sam retorts and Dean gives him a warning glare. “He wasn’t a father, rather a drill sergeant.”

“Yes, he was. John Winchester was a possessive bastard, determined to find his wife’s murderer. And yes, he wanted us to become cops, but this isn’t a reason to change your surname. You did it as mom’s family was wealthy and dad was just…”

“Simple…” You whisper. 

“He was a simple man, found happiness in simple things like watching his son become a lawyer.

You know, he was there and watched you from afar as he knew, just like me, that he wasn’t allowed to be a part of your life. When he called you, it was out of desperation to see his son one last time before cancer killed him.” 

Huffing Dean looks at the invitation, and his hands shake when he opens the card. “Not even now you can give him a tiny bit of respect, Sammy. All dad wanted was for you to forgive him. If you would’ve come here only once, you…”

“He was stubborn. Dad would’ve never forgiven me for not following his lead. He wanted me to become a cop.” Sam talks back and Dean, well Dean drops the invitation.

“John Winchester was a stubborn man, a proud one but, he would have apologized to you for the pressure he put on you. With his last breath, he said two things.” Dean is close to tears and you need to squeeze his thigh to help him bring the words out he told you months ago.

“Dad, he said that he loves me and that he’s proud calling me his son and then he said I shall tell you that he’s sorry. That he wishes he could’ve said goodbye. His last word was Sammy and then he was gone…”

“He did…” Choking on his words Sam tries to read his brother's expression but over the years, he lost his brother, just like his father. Now a foreign man sits in front of him with watery eyes and Sam can only blame himself.

“I shouldn’t come to your wedding, Sammy. I know you did it out of…I got no clue why you did it but…” Dean gives his brother a sad smile when he places the invitation into his hands. 

“You will be happier if you keep on pretending, I never existed, just like dad. There will be so many people you are genuinely interested in, you won’t need me – the brother you didn’t want any longer, at your wedding.”

“Dean, please don’t say things like that. I left because of dad…not you.” Sam tries one last time, but Dean laughs bitterly.

“Odd. Last time I checked you didn’t contact me since dad died and even before, you did not waste a single thought at me. Go ahead, live your life and keep me out of your family, as I am a Winchester and you aren’t…according to your invitation.” Storming out of the room Dean slam the door shut behind him.

“That wasn’t the best result…” Sam sighs deeply, still holding the invitation in his hands. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“Dean…is he more than a rebound guy to you? Do you love him?” Surprised you look at Sam, meet his hazel eyes for the first time since he entered your home. “Y/N?”

“Yes. Dean is so much more than a rebound guy, Sam.” Smiling you look at Dean who reenters the room. “Dean is the right guy. The one I was looking for…”

“The right guy…” Dean mumbles.

“I know that I can’t force you to come to my wedding, Dean but please rethink your decision. There’s still time and I don’t need an answer today.” 

Placing the invitation and a card with his phone number onto the table Sam looks hopefully at his brother. 

“I know that I messed up big time, Dean but the invitation wasn’t my idea. Jess ordered them, just like everything else and I just saw dad wasn’t on it... She believed it’s the right thing to do to avoid questions…”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll think about it, Sammy. Let me think about it and I’ll call you next weekend. If you can wait that long.” Sam nods, even get up to hug Dean tightly. 

“I hope you will come. I need you at my wedding, brother.” Sniffling you look at Dean who doesn’t know how to act around his brother. “Please…”

“I will call you, promised…”

Part 3

SPN Forever Tags

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

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[laufire]

Rowena for the meme

Why I like them: how could I not??? She’s a great character, AND an absolutely enchanting woman. I could write (very bad, based on previous experience) poetry about her xDD. She’s gorgeous! And witchy! And dramatic! She hits my “older woman of dubious morality” soft spot AND has about everything else going for her lmao.

Why I don’t: I suddenly can’t read.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I still have a few left with her (far less than I’d like! I know she has a fake marriage with Sam in one though xD), but as of now it’s probably 13x12, where she tricks Sam and Dean (they never find out she’s the one who hired the two witches that rob the book from them lol), comes in to save the day~~, has a few bonding moments with Sam regarding their Lucifer Trauma TM -which leads to Sam sneakily letting her get away with the page she was looking for lol... Another great one is where she encourages her sweet grandson (who she liked!) to return to the past knowing he’d die there, to get revenge against Crowley for forcing her to kill the one person she’d truly loved (another child she’d actually loved like a son). This family istg xDDD. 13x19, where she sets out to defy Death and force her to bring Crowley back to life is another contender (theirs is a complicated mother-son bond lmfao).

Favorite season/movie: it’s hard to say because I’ve enjoyed all four so far (well, in terms of Rowena’s storyline at least. I have Opinions on s12 and s13 lol). But I have to say Rowena is about the first character I’ve fully enjoyed (so far) seeing joining the team after being in more antagonistic role, simply because it’s fun xD, and in that sense she was a breath of fresh air in s13.

Favorite line: oh man. She has so many. One thing I’ll say for these writers is that they took advantage of having a theatre trained actress and gave her GREAT monologues lmao. See all these lovely things she tells to Crowley lmfao:

“This demon asks you to equalize credit for his and another's work. Split the baby if you will. Well, then I would well and truly split the baby. I'd cut this pulling, pathetic, grade-grubbing git in two, literally. Then I'd nail his bloody halves to the doors of the court. A reminder to all not to waste the King's time! Whiners beget whiners. You can't reward behavior like that. Why, I never gave in when you asked for sweeties as a child no matter how much you cried. Well, you were a very chunky child, darling. A bit of a bloater.”

“You can't understand my disappointment or my pride. You don't know this but after I left you, after I was forced to leave you, I heard of your death. Your mortal death. I thought you were gone to me forever. Then, hundreds of years later and thousands of miles away, I find you: the King of Hell. And not by luck or accident, you made that happen all by yourself. You're not a mother. You can't know what that pride felt like. How huge it was. But can you try to imagine, for me? Now do you understand why it breaks my heart to see what a colossal numb nut you've become? You've got the crown but you're no ruler, not really. A sad, bored wee boy on the throne who'll flop ass up the second those Winchesters, hunters who'd as soon see you dead as have you to tea, ask you to. You're no king. Not any more. You're their bitch!”

“I hate you because, when I look into your eyes, I see the woman I used to be, before magic, before the coven, when I was nothing but Rowena, the tanner's daughter. A pale, scared little girl who smelled of filth and death. I hate you because, when you were born, your father said he loved me. Then he went back to his grand wife and his grand house, whilst I lay pathetic and half-dead on a straw mat - my thighs slick with blood. I hate you, because if I didn't, I'd love you. But love... love is weakness. And I'll never be weak again.”

Then there’s of course “You say that like it’s an insult. Nice girls, they’re pathetic. Here’s to evil skanks.” (to Dean, after he calls her an evil skank). And the iconique “I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BEING A CAREER WOMAN!!” (to Crowley, after he reproaches her abandonment of him as a child).

Favorite outfit: THIS IS THE MOST UNFAIR QUESTION I’VE EVER ASKED. Seriously, I literally spend all of her scenes making heart eyes at her looks, choosing is too difficult xD

This purple dress.

this blue one (just what you casually wear to break into a creepy house with your new frenemy Sam Winchester)

This purple dressing gown

This backless red dress

Everything she’s worn has been perfect for her, but I have a weakness for the long dresses.

OTP: Sam/Rowena is a great ship. Although if I’m honests, my favourite relationship of hers altogether is with Crowley. I love a good Bad Mom TM dynamic xDD

Brotp: see above. And I’ve enjoyed her (too few) moments with Castiel and Jack. Also Chuck lol.

Head Canon: I choose to believe she and Bela have crossed paths. Because.

Unpopular opinion: idek. Okay, I have one. You know how fandom obsesses over characters that SUPPOSEDLY have a hard exterior but are secretly softies, and that do terrible things to cover that and protect themselves (I’m looking at you Dean stans lol)? Rowena is the actual real deal here. Accept no substitutes xD

A wish: well, it would’ve been NICE if she hadn’t been so unceremoneously removed from the narrative in s15 (I mean, still a better ending than I would’ve hoped given the show’s track record, but I would’ve preferred to have her in the show moving the plot and all). At least it’s one of those endings with possibility~, so fics will be coming xD

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: the show is done and it could’ve been worse lmao. Dead with no possibility of return/no reigning position in Hell, for one.

5 words to best describe them: powerful, creative, meddling, striking, gracious.

My nickname for them: well, I keep calling her my ideal woman lmao.

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

I dunnoooo.

if you have a suggestion for the title please do say so. I am terrible in titles.

Castiel x Winchester! reader

I was going to make this filthy smut. But, I can’t do it.... I tried, and then I got to all the kinky stuff and I was just laughing, and I couldn’t utter words like folds, erect, and stuff like that, and please don’t ask me for dirty talk I CAN’T with a straight face lol.

Sunday mornings, you groan, you just wanted to stay in bed all day and do nothing, say nothing, barely breathing. You just wanted breakfast in bed, and maybe a good make out session with your boyfriend. But, then you opened your eyes and there was no one in the bed next to you. Because you don’t have a boyfriend, surprise. You open tinder on your phone but the first guy makes you sign, and close the app again. Tinder was not your friend, and definitely not that guys. They should make more flattering pictures. You should get up, Sam and Dean would be eating breakfast already, and Cas. 

You sat down, Sam pushing your bowl of cereal in front of you. “What evil needs to be fought today?” you ask. Dean was stuffing his face with a Danish. “How did you get one of those?” you gasp. Dean pointed at Cas who was minding his own business on his phone. “Cassss.” You said, holding out your hand. Cas looked up from his phone. His new favorite toy. “I like Danish. But, nobody thought of getting me anything.” Cas said, Dean looked up and glared at him. “To answer your question. No, we have no cases today.” Sam said he was reading the newspaper not paying too much attention to Cas’s annoyed demeanor. As Cas wasn’t going to give you a Danish, you settle for your cereal. “Casssss” you pout. He rolled his eyes at you. He snapped his fingers, and a danish was in front of you. “I love you” you said, as a thank you. Quickly you take a bite from the pastry. 

You were watching tv but also swiping on tinder because you just needed a boyfriend or just a guy who is there. I mean, you lived with your brothers, and Cas. You always had that tiny crush on him in the back of your head, but he was an actual angel oblivious to all human emotions. So to forget about him you started talking to this guy Tommy, and he told you he wanted to take you out to dinner and give you a night to remember. Which to be honest, she really could use right now. ���What are you doing?”Cas asked. He sat down next to her on the couch, his eyes falling on the text message conversation. “Just texting.” she said: “I have a date tonight.” Cas looked at the tv for a bit. “You want to get lucky as Dean says?” he asked. you almost choked on your tongue. “What?” you spat. He looked at you. “I don’t need to read your thoughts for that.” He said, he seemed sad when he said it. “and I thought angels only had pure thoughts.” she said,  she gave Cas a smile before patting him on the knee,  leaving him sitting on the couch. 

You got ready for her big date to get laid. Jesus you just cringed thinking about that sentence. You put on your hottest most exposed outfit, spraying perfume in the air before walking through it. You felt sexy, good, great, just waiting for some guy to mess it all up. “You shouldn’t go out like that” Cas said, before you walked out the door to meet Tim or Tom whatever. You look at your outfit, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it. “What? I don’t see what is wrong with it?” you said, you look back up again at him. You take a few steps closer to him, he took a step back. “ There will be a lot of things running through his mind, and none of them are holy.” he said, you chuckle. “Castiel, I don’t need you to be my big brother.” you tell him. He looked at the ground. “I’m not.” he said: “But, I want to do those things with you.” your eyes widen. “You want to have sex with me?” you ask. Cas looked up. “I want you emotionally, physically, and in that outfit, sexually. Yes.” he said, you give him a punch against his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that, Castiel.” you said, he put his hand over the place you just hit him. He took the step closer to you, he pulled you closer holding your face in his hands. He pushed his lips forcefully onto yours. You kiss him back with passion in the rhythm. You move your arms around his neck, making him move his hands from your face to your body. “What the hell?” you hear Sam say. You break off the kiss. “Sam?” you answer him. “I’ve stood here for too long,” Sam said, gesturing to the two of you. Then turned his head to Cas. “I will be watching you.” he glared at him. “You’re a dirty angel, Cas’ he said, he walked out of the room probably storming to tell Dean. You had your arm still wrapped around Cas’s neck, his hands were still on your hips. You look at Cas for a moment before you both burst into laughter. 

Few days later

You still hadn’t slept with Cas for the simple fact that Sam was serious in watching Cas. He would not let Cas into your room, and the worst part is he got Dean involved too. “No, that is our little sister.” “No she is too young, when she is 40 you can” “Cas you are a celestial being, no” but boy you weren’t too young almost twenty isn’t too young. You were lying on the couch with your head in Cas’s lap, you were wearing an oversized sweater with shorts. You were really into the movie, it was Annabelle. “Okay, kids behave, I am going out.” Dean said, Sam was already gone till tomorrow, and if Dean left you were all alone. You pull your boyfriend by his tie, and kiss him. You get up, from the couch, Cas looked you up and down. “Dean said we should behave.” Cas said, you chuckled, taking him by hand pulling him off the couch. You press your body against his, pressing a kiss on his lips. “Still want to behave?” you ask. He gave you a stupid grin, he picked you up, holding your legs up to his waist, and you had to wrap your arms around his neck.

[huntertales]

Part Three: You Are What You Eat. (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths–a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Mentions of blood. Word Count: 4,647.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“So, what can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?” 

You had to be honest, at the beginning of this plan you were excited for the chance to go around each kennel so Dean could personally speak to the dogs and get a potential eyewitness of what happened the previous night. Your enthusiasm slowly trickled away when you realized how this was turning out to be a complete waste of time. All though you could only hear one side of the conversation, the homeless pups were turning out to be less helpful than the Colonel had been for you. You watched from the other side of the shelter as Dean questioned another dog that looked almost to be the exact same breed as the famous Lassie. However she wasn’t capable of much of anything due to her fleeting eyesight due to her old age. Dean listened anyway.

“Honestly, I couldn’t see much. Damn cataracts. And you know no one is going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess.” The dog followed up her story with a complaint about how her final days would be spent in a cage. Dean offered a sympathetic smile from the lonely end she was most likely going to face. Almost no one adopts older dogs. The man felt it was time to cut the conversation short when she tried to guilt him into taking her home. “I don’t belong here, you know. I’m Pedigreed.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be out of here soon.” Dean tried to offer some hopeful words to the dog that better days were ahead for her. She shot him down when she told him her age of fourteen. In human years she was in her seventies. She didn’t have much time left on this Earth. He winced at the awkward situation he put himself in. “Good luck…ma’am.” 

Dean shut the cage and placed the latch back down so she couldn’t try and escape. As he passed by a labrador, he overheard the rough conditions they were living in. “One a day they clean these cages. Once a day!”

“A biscuit. Just one biscuit.” 

“I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer.” 

“I’m shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence.” 

Dean wasn't sure what to expect when he took the spell that would make him be able to communicate with the Colonel. He didn't think it was going to lead him into being able to speak to every single animal that would end up in him getting mocked by a pigeon and hearing the complaints from the dogs living in the shelter. He let out a quiet sigh from how overwhelming it was to hear all their voices ringing in his head for different reasons that all varied out to the same reason. They wanted to get his attention for a chance at going home with him. You gave him a curious expression as he approached you and Sam after trying to speak to another dog.

“Any luck?” Sam asked his brother, hopeful for some kind of breakthrough. 

“Hardly.” Dean admitted. “And I’m not just getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints.” 

“Hey, pretty boy.” The older Winchester might have spoken too soon when he heard another voice pop up into his head, making him look over his shoulder to see who was speaking to him. A small yorkie jumped on his hind legs and leaned himself against the fence to try and get the hunter’s attention. “Over here.” 

“Yeah, sorry, pal.” Dean said, shrugging off the dog for whatever excuse he was about to try and throw his way to get him over there and chat his ear off. The man thought he already knew what was going to happen if he wasted more time on yet another dog. “I’m done for the day.” 

“But I saw everything!” The dog shouted, saying exactly what the hunter wanted to hear. It was enough for Dean to make his way over the kennel. You and Sam followed behind, figuring this was the lead all of you had been looking for. “And I’ll tell you, but…it’ll cost you.” 

“What? Are you kidding me? I’m being extorted by a dog.” The older Winchester scoffed at the sudden shift of the conversation. No one else had given him much help. This was the only major lead you had going for you. Dean rolled his eyes and unwillingly gave in to listening to whatever the dog might try and bribe out of him. “Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin’ Strips? Snausages?”

“Bitch, please. If I’m gonna rat someone out, it’s got to be worth my while. I want…a belly rub.” The dog gave his final demands to make him speak. Dean once again rolled his eyes at the presumption that it was going to be him who was going to be forced to do the deed. However the yorkie wouldn’t let just anyone come near him.  “Not you, sweetie. The short one.” 

“The...Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath when he turned his direction to the short person he was talking about. You were standing next to him, wondering what was making him grow annoyed now. “He wants a belly rub. From you.” Dean informed you of the pooch’s request. You felt your lips stretch into a happy smile. As if this hunt couldn’t get any better.  “Get to it. You’re like some kind of dog whisperer.” 

You pushed up the latch to the cage and opened up the metal door to greet the yorkie with a big smile at how happy he was from the way his tail was wagging. “Hi there, cutie. You wanna belly rub, huh? Come here.”

The dog wanted his end of the bargain before giving any sort of information about that night to Dean. You started off enjoying giving the pooch what he wanted. He was cradled in your arms like a baby as you scratched his stomach like he requested. His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth as he panted in enjoyment from the rare affection he was being given after spending most hours locked in the small confidments. The human side of Dean was growing annoyed at how much this mutt was trying to milk this bribe for his own benefit. And the canine side of him was growing territorial at how much you were giving someone else affection. 

“Ohh, a cowboy hat, leather pants.” The dog managed to give a basic description of the man of what he was wearing on the night of the murder, occasionally breaking his concentration from the bellyrub long enough to do so. “The dude's a total closet case.”

“Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?” Dean pressed for more, knowing that it was useless to the three of you. 

“What does he want with the cats?” Dean asked. 

“Ooh, attagirl, yes.” The dog was once again delayed on responding to the question, too caught up in the euphoric feeling. “Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate.”

“Ew.” Dean mumbled to himself from the twist he wasn’t expecting to come from the story. You momentarily stopped scratching the dog to hear what made the man reaction that way. It was for a reason you never would have guessed "Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats."

You felt your lips stretching into a childlike smile from the information, feeling the need to crack a joke. “So you’re saying he likes to eat p—”

"Keep scratching." Dean told you, cutting you off from making a distasteful joke.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it." The yorkie added, giving some information that might help make it easier to track down the man. 

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked. The dog decided at that moment to go silent. He went limp in your arms as he let out a yawn, acting as if it was Dean who was wasting his time. "Hey, come on. We had a deal."

“Well, you tell that to your friend.” The dog said  “She’s the one who stopped rubbing.” 

You rolled your eyes when Dean tossed you a look to keep going with the deal he made with the dog. You could only do this for so long before you complained of a hand cramp. Not to mention he was starting to make your arm grow numb for holding him in the same position for a long period of time. Dean didn’t seem to care for your complaints. 

“He’s not talking.” The older Winchester said. 

“I’m sorry, do you want to do it?” You asked him, nodding your head to the needy dog. 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” Dean reminded you. “Very happily.”

You let out a quiet sigh and continued on with your end of the deal. The dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth in happiness.“Attagirl. It said ‘Avant-Garde Cuisine.’” He continued on. “Lucky for you, I read French.”

“That's a café on Main Street.” The Colonel said, jumping into the conversation to lend a helping paw. “No dogs allowed.”

“Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap.” Dean mumbled, seeming to be still talking amongst the dogs. You raised your brow slightly, wondering if he found a possible lead afterall. “We got to go downtown. Apparently our guy works at a restaurant.”

Dean nodded his head to put the yorkie back into his cage after getting the information you needed from him. “No, no, wait, wait, wait. Sure you don't want to adopt me?”

“No, thanks.” The older man shot down the offer with a smile. “We'll pass.”

You bent down to grab the Colonel’s lesh with your good hand as you tried to stop the cramping in the other. While the little yorkie was a pain, you had to admit it was sort of fun spending some time with the pooch. Even if he was a pain. 

“It’s kind of sad, don’t you think?” You wondered out loud, looking around at the kennels filled with dogs you would have loved to adopt. Sadly not all of them might get a chance. “All these poor things might never get a proper home. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life in a cage.”

Dean found himself reflecting on what you said for a moment. He didn’t like dogs. Hell, he wasn’t the one for pets. But being able to hear their thoughts and struggles they faced, spending some time walking in their point of view, gave him a better perspective. Every creature, human or animal, deserved a loving home. He felt his lips stretch into a smile from what he was about to do. He knew it would make you happy. Maybe this spell wasn’t such a curse after all. 

You and Sam were left baffled at what the man was doing when he went to every kennel and opened up the cage doors to let the dogs free. A scurry of four legged animals went running past you and straight out the door. You might not have been able to hear the excitement of their freedom, but you could tell from how they raced out of here. Dean was pleased with himself at the little act of kindness. 

“I didn't peg you for a softy.” The Colonel said. 

Dean merely shrugged his shoulders as his response for the German Shepherd. There were a lot of things that were out of character for him today. He spent his entire life saving humans. It felt like a good change of pace to lend a helping hand to man's best friend for a change. 

+ + +

It wasn't too hard for you and the boys to track down the restaurant of the crazy lunatic who murdered two people and catnapped all of the shelter's felines for reasons you still weren't sure of. Sam was the one who picked the lock of the back door and headed inside first, you and Dean following after. You wondered the reason why the place was closed when you were still in the early evening, it should have been booming with business. A closed sign wasn’t going to stop you and the boys from breaking into the place and taking a look around for yourself. It was going to be easier knowing there would be no lingering eyes to disrupt you. 

"I'm sorry. Who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean wondered out loud.

“Homicidal maniac?” You guessed.

Sam brought your attention over to a door that was marked private. after passing a few unmarked ones. All of you stepped inside and began taking a look around through the scope of the small flashlight you pulled out. You noticed it must’ve been extra storage for the restaurant from the walk-in freezer you spotted across the room and shelves filled with different canned goods and spices and doubled as an office space for the staff. The younger Winchester approached a desk that was near the door and spotted a framed photograph of a man that was dressed in a chef's uniform with a cowboy hat as an accessory. He smiled for the camera while sharpening a knife. It was oddy suspicious at first glance, but it didn't exactly scream psycho killer to you. 

"Check this out." Sam said. He pulled your attention away from exploring more of the room and to the picture he found. You furrowed your brow slightly at the potential suspect you might have. "Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

Dean shrugged at the coincidence, "It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats." 

Sam decided to stick around the desk when he pulled up a chair and began rifling through some papers and drawers to see if he might be able to find anything suspicious about this Chef Leo. Dean continued on walking through the place as you stuck around to help Sam to cut down the process faster. You flipped through a folder full of important documents for the restaurant that ended up being meaningless to you and dropped them back down where you found them. You pulled out one of the drawers out of curiosity and stumbled upon a little pharmacy Chef Leo had kept for himself.

“Whoa.” You mumbled to yourself. You counted at least eight prescription bottles in the drawer that were all for him. You bent down slightly to get a better look at the drugs to see what he was taking. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone. Jeez. Guess he likes to cook perfectly numb.” 

"Help us." 

"Please, mister."

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks when he heard the sound of high-pitched voices coming out of nowhere. He looked around to see where they might have come from, but the only people around were still you and Sam, who were busy looking deeper into Chef Leo's desk. He kept on trying to find the source of the voices when they talked to him again, trying to get him to find them. 

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked, curious if he was the only one. You glanced up and gave the man a confused look as to what he was talking about. You shook your head before continuing on your search. “Sounded like little kids.” 

"Help!" The voice called out again, close enough for Dean to stop again and point his flashlight at a table that was holding something that was hidden behind an apron. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us." 

“She’s not lying.”

“We’re in a cage!”

Dean managed to find the source of the distressed voices when he pulled off the apron and saw a small cage big enough to be holding a few mice that were unhappily crawling around in their mental confidements. He bent down slightly so he was at somewhat eye level with the rodents so he could speak to them properly. "Eat you?"

One of the rats told him to look in the refrigerator behind him to discover what else the chef was hiding. He did as he was told, making Dean stumble upon several tupperware containers stacked on top of one another with labels of unusual ingredients he had a feeling weren't on the menu. You wandered over in curiosity to discover what Dean had found while Sam found something suspicious on his own. You glanced inside the see through door to see the chef was stocked on animal organs of all kinds. 

"'Owl brains.' 'Cheetah liver.' 'Grizzly heart.'" Dean listed off just a few of the strange organs that made you grimace as the possible reason why the chef needed these ingredients. And how he managed to acquire such an array of organs for such a diverse palate. 

"Ah, a spell book." Sam said. He figured out what kind of book he had been reading through, and why the chef has so many organs on hand. "Shamanism." 

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" You asked.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoo doo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal." Sam read off some information from the book to help explain what was going on here. Your nose wrinkled slightly as you looked back over at the fridge. The thought of ingesting any of those organs made you feel slightly queasy. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains..."

“Your head spins around like ‘The Exorcist’?” Dean wondered, deciding to take a wild guess.

"Close. Bolsters your IQ.” Sam said. He turned his attention back over to the book and began to read through the effects of the organs you and his brother discovered. “Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength.”

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—” 

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter." Sam said, finishing his brother's thought. 

"Well, no offense," Dean turned his gaze back over to the cage with the mice. They were bottom of the food chain compared to the other animals Chef Leo had on stock. "But why would he want to eat you guys?"

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." The rodent said. 

"Look at this." Sam said. He found several index cards with what appeared to be some kind of recipe with the organs the chef harvested. You grabbed a few from the pile to flip through them yourself. "'Lion liver plus eagle heart.' 'Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder.' 'Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen.' He's mixing ingredients." 

“What the hell for?” 

Dean’s question went unanswered when the focus in the room went straight for the closed door after hearing what sounded to be metal crashing to the ground. You tossed the cards back to the desk as Sam turned off the small lamp. The rodents were spooked as well from the noise as they began to argue amongst each other. 

“Shoo! Quiet!”

"Don't shush me! You be quiet!" 

"I am quiet. Now." 

You and the boys headed for the door with your guns dawn, unsure of who might be out there. It might have been the chef back for a snack. You followed behind as Dean opened up the door and swiftly stepped outside to the hall, taking a quick glance around before you and his brother joined him. There was no one around the hall you came down, but there were echoes coming from the kitchen. All of you slowly headed there, expecting the man you heard so much about. Instead Dean found himself lowering his gun and hiding it quickly as he could when he spotted an unfamiliar face at work. It took no time at all for the chef to look up from what he was doing and to the three strangers disrupting him.

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked in a slightly frustrated tone of voice. He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting impatiently for your answer.

"We're from the health department." Sam explained to him, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Stopped by for an inspection." 

"I wasn't aware we had one scheduled." He said. 

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be. That's the point." Dean replied, continuing off with the lie his brother made up on the spot. "Besides, I thought you were closed." 

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The man explained to all of you. One of the waiters working tonight pushed open the swinging doors to the dining area and walked in, only to stumble upon the confusing sight that was unraveling. "In fact, he'll be here any minute," 

"Oh. Well, then. In that case, the kitchen's shut down." You declared. The chef's expression dropped at hearing the news. Clearly he demanded answers as to the sudden dramatic information without a proper warning. "Because you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14. And what's that? Mice. You people have mice. You call yourself fine dining. The only thing people here are getting served is mice droppings." 

"Out. Come on. Get out." Dean instructed the two men, waving for the swinging door the waiter came in from. All though they weren't exactly happy about the change in plans, there was little fuss. "Both of you. We'll let you know." 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the two men inform the guest about the change in plans for the evening. While they didn’t appear to be pleased at the ruined evening, everyone scurried off the property in the matter of seconds. "All right." You directed your gaze back to the older Winchester when he devised a plan. "I'll take the front. You and Sam take the back." 

“Do we even know how to kill this guy?” You asked, wondering if you were going into this situation with the wrong weapon. You hoped this wasn't going to be like poking the bear with a stick and getting mauled to death like the other victims.

"Well, empty one of these in his head." Dean suggested, gesturing the gun he pulled back out after the staff left. "See what that does."

You let out a faint sigh as you watched Dean make his way to the front of the restaurant as Sam continued searching through the rest of the kitchen, leaving you alone. This wasn't the first time you were going up against someone with strange abilities and an unsure way of how to take them down. You found yourself turning back on your heels to the hallway you came from when the sound of metal clanking wandered through the air again. You positioned your gun in front of you as you quietly followed the noise from where it came from. 

You began making your way down the hallway again to see where the noise was coming from. All though you were cautious and on high alert, when you reached the end of the hallway, something still didn't sit right with you. You learned to trust your gut instinct when it kicked in. And right about now it was telling you something was wrong. You turned around to see that you weren't alone anymore. Chef Leo stood in front of you after appearing out of thin air. Whatever he had taken made him be able to blend into his surroundings and get the jump on you. You had no time to react at all from what he did to you next. 

You felt a sudden sharp pain like claws dig into your neck scratching the skin deep enough for you to realize that it wasn't a simple scratch. You pressed your hand to the side of your neck when you felt blood starting to pour out from the wound at a fast rate. The son of a bitch slashed your throat. You had little time to react before you bled to death on the floor. You tried to steady yourself as you made your way down the hall, keeping as much blood in your body as you could. Chef Leo watched on as you struggled to stop yourself from falling down, he found it all amusing in a twisted way. 

"Chameleons aren't all that bad.” He said, a hint of humor in his voice. “Kind of tastes like chicken." 

You struggled to get your feet moving again when you finally pushed yourself off the wall you had been leaning on. The logical part of your brain was yelling at you to get moving before it was too late. You already lost enough blood from just standing here trying to get your head on straight. There was no way you could scream for help, but you might be able to find Dean if you moved fast enough. You tried to get your vision from going blurry as you managed to take a few steps. With each passing second you felt your body starting to grow weaker as you struggled to breathe on your own. 

You dealt with severe blood loss before, you knew the way your body was reacting. You forced yourself to try and keep going, despite your breathing turning heavier and your sight growing weaker with your body. You felt yourself starting to lose consciousness as your fight was slowly dwindling to the end. Right as you were on the edge of death, someone pulled you back from taking the plunge. 

Ezekial, the angel who had been hiding himself quietly in your body over the past several weeks, needed you alive. He preferred to keep his meddling to a minimum. Most of the time he was lured out from hiding by Dean due to some situation he put himself in that needed his help. He felt you slowly choking on your own blood from the slashes you endured on your neck. A simple touch to the wound when he took control healed your wound in the matter of seconds before he vanished quickly as he came. You were left gasping for air, and finding it was easy to do so. 

You felt something sticky and warm covering the hand that was wrapped tightly around your neck. That was it. No excruciating pain. No gasping for breath. You felt...normal. You quickly felt around the skin for some kind of indication that the slashes on your throat were still there. But there was nothing. Your brows furrowed together in confusion as you turned around to face Chef Leo, who appeared to be perfectly normal. Not a drop of blood was on him. You were covered in your own blood. But not a single scratch was on your body. The man stared at you with bewilderment at what you did in front of him.

“How the hell did you do that?” He questioned you. 

“Do what?” You asked him, sounding confused as he was.

"Don't play coy with me." He snapped at you. "I want to know what you are."

"Buddy, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." You shot back at him, trying to turn your anxiety into anger. Despite the fact that you were without a weapon, you knew you could defend yourself against him. But your mind was still stuck on the fact that you were miraculously healed after he clawed your throat. 

"Oh, screw the sharktopus."  Chef Leo muttered to himself. Your focus finally went back to the psychopath standing in front of you, and before you had a chance to get yourself out of the situation you landed yourself in, he was faster. All it took was a swift punch for you to fall to the ground unconscious. "You’re my main course."

[Next Part]

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[itstheimpossibledream]

Buttons PT.4

You wake up the next morning and roll over. Your phone buzzes,

7:30 not good. You promised Sam you would run with him this morning, but that plan was clearly shot.

You pulled a sweatshirt over your head, stopping to observe yourself in the mirror. It was a good outfit to wear in front of the Winchester boys. Your shorts were short but not underwear , and you didn't have a shirt or bra underneath, so you could see the outline of your nipples depending on how you moved. You made your way to their kitchen. At this point it didn't matter which one of the brothers preferred you, you felt like you had the power now. And to be honest which one you wanted depended on the day. You entered the room and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

"Didn't have as much energy this morning as you thought you would?" Sam joked as he turned from the counter to face the table.

"Guess not." Dean said wryly looking down at his mug, which you would like to think was coffee, but knew better. It was beer,he just poured it into a mug so no one can accuse him of drinking too much.

"So, now that the case is over I guess I should start moving my things out of the bunker." You say calmly as Sam leans against the counter.  It had been three weeks of working side by side with the Winchester’s and while it wasn’t exactly what you had planned for yourself, you knew you had to leave before you found yourself wanting to stay in the polyamorous bunker love bubble permanently.

"Well, actually I found these new cases up-state. I'm pretty sure it's all the same monster. I'm just having trouble pinning down what it is. It seems like some-kind of vampire hybrid." Sam continued talking but you just stared at him. He probably thought you were really interested in whatever subject he was going on about but, really all you were doing was imagining him pushing you up against a wall. God how was he this tall? His hands clenched around the top of the counter, you noticed his knuckles going white, long fingers tapping the underside of the ledge. 

"You're biting your lip." Dean says breaking Sam's stream of information. 

"What?" you snap back into reality and realize you may have let your imagination run a little too wild. 

Sam slowly licks his bottom lip and now you think wow okay so he can tell I'm turned on. And somehow, knowing that makes you want him more. 

"Look you can leave if you want" Dean breaks in "Or......you could stay."he says boldly,looking directly into your eyes. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying not to read too much into it. 

"It means we're brothers…….we're kind of used to sharing everything." Sam says folding his arms across his chest, with a shrug. 

They could not be saying what you think they're saying. It takes you a minute to process it all, the silence deafening as you switch your gaze between the two of them attempting to read their reactions. 

Instead of making a decision, you get up and take your coffee to your room.

You close your door and begin packing. Were they calling you a whore? Was that really what they thought of you? That you would let either of them just use you whenever they wanted? They knew you. They've known you for years and you have never been that type of girl. It's out of character that you had even fucked both of them in the first place. You sat on the bed, frustrated and  trying to make sense of their words, then there was a knock on the door. 

"Y/N." Dean rasped "Can we come in ?" you make your way to the door and open it, expecting some bullshit apology or that they would offer to drop you off wherever you wanted to be left. Bullshit. Dean enters the room first , scratching the back of his neck bent over in what you couldn't make out as embarrassment or amusement. 

" We didn't mean to offend you." Dean gruffs " We just thought since, you didn't seem like you had a clear favorite between either of us maybe you just didn't have to pick ." He says, taking a step toward you. Now Sam steps into the room, posting himself up against the wall crossing his arms and looking down at his feet. 

"You're okay with this?" You turn to Sam, his eyes travel up to meet yours and he lifts his eyebrows, pushing his lower lip up and you notice the small creases on the side of his mouth, god his mouth, how much you would love to just fall into his lips. 

"It was Sam's idea sweetheart" Dean laughs and you notice Sam break into a broad smile. 

"We just want you to feel comfortable.If you want to choose at some point that's okay too. We're just suggesting that you do not have to right now." Sam says, voice even like this is just a regular conversation.

"Have you guys done this before?" you ask timidly.

"Not with a hunter." Dean exhales quickly "Makes things a lot easier I think, safer." 

You laugh at Dean's completely unromantic attempt to sell you on the practicality of the situation.

"I ummm......I think I need some time to think about this." you say trying to read their faces for disappointment. This was too much, too early in the morning. 

"I can respect that." Dean says closing the space between you , lifting your chin and kissing you hard. Dean was passionate, there was no doubt about that. When your lips finally broke apart you looked up into his eyes and he smirked before turning and leaving the room. You stood there for a moment, head swimming a mix of lust and other emotions. Was that a kiss to mark his territory ? Or to prove that you should pick him? Dean leaves and a blanket of quiet falls over the room. Oddly,Sam didn't seem as keen to wait for the result as his older brother. 

"Ya know, we uhhhh- we really didn't mean to upset you ." he said, finally breaking the silence.

"Yeah, well I can't even tell why I'm upset anymore to be honest." you huff stepping back and sitting on the edge of your bed. 

Sam kneels on the ground in front of you.

"Hey- hey you have time to think about it. No rush okay?" He grabs your hand from your lap and looks up at you, with those big green eyes and you know he means it. You notice how funny it is that even on his knees, he's basically eye level with you sitting down and you allow a small smile to play on the corners of your lips. He places a large palm on the side of your face and says, "I didn't think it would be this real either. I just couldn't let us finish that case and not try." he ran his other hand through his hair,"Look this is new for us too. I mean Dean kinda knows that I've liked you for years but, the two of you hooking up ya know that was news to me." you look down at  your hands as he removes his from your face and rubs his palms on his jeans.

"Well you never said anything Sam! You kind of made a habit of fucking me in public and leaving so, how was I supposed to know what you wanted? I probably wouldn't have fucked Dean if I knew you didn't want me to."

 He let out a solid chuckle "Probably ?" he smiled big "We're not allergic to sharing, it's not a problem. We just have to know where we stand." he laughs. He furrows his brow and clears his throat. "But uhh if you want to not share-I'm cool with that too." he winked.  

"So you do want me to choose." 

" I said if you want to." he quickly retorted

" But you want me to." you looked him directly in the eye.

"I want-" his hand tracing his way up your thigh."I want you to feel good." his hand slowly moves up "and" he says cocking his head out the side and looking up at you. "I don't really care who the person is that does that.But, right now I'd like for it to be me." he presses up on your thighs lifting his face to kiss you. You kiss him back biting his bottom lip for a moment, he responds with a low growl and laughs into your lips.

"Does Dean tell you to do that?" he whispers, kissing you again.

"No" you breathe into him, wondering why he would ask. He grabs the hair at the back of your neck and pulls your head back, he kisses your neck under your ear.

"Do you want me to make you feel good right now?"he breathes.Fuck yes you think.

"Yes." you breathe lightly.

"God, that was was easy." he chuckles pulling back."Maybe later though." he pulls back, kissing  you on the cheek.He stands up , and walks  toward the door."I told you I'd give you sometime to think about it."He purses his lips together and leaves.Well that was a complete fucking tease. You flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. This was so unnecessary. You could just leave now,cut your losses and never interact with them again. Unless they specifically requested your assistance on a case. But then again, leaving meant not having sex anymore with these two unbelievably hot men who knew exactly how to make you scream. Or atleast how to cover your mouth while you screamed. It doesn't matter. You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of your impure thoughts. Impure thoughts, you might as well just paint that on every wall in your room. That was the only thing keeping you from leaving. But, wouldn't it say more if you chose to stay? If you decided that despite how it makes you look, it makes you feel amazing to know both of them want you, to know you have no family but working with the Winchesters, with Cas you could all be a family. Some sort of makeshift rag-tag group but at least it would be some semblance of the normal American life. Okay, you exhale steadying your breath. Alright, so the options are choose yourself, your happiness or choose to try to live a normal life. Fuck, I mean you're already a hunter and you can't come back from that. Decision made.You walk the few steps to the doorway and slam the door loudly on your way to the library just in case they were talking about you. You quickly did the steps and sure enough there they were, sitting at the table books open, studying the lore. Dean, sitting in the chair with a beer at his side. Sam, sitting in the chair long legs splayed out wide, a book in his lap and the computer on the table in front of him and Cas, tossing his angel blade back and forth between his hands. 

"Cas! didn't hear you fly in." You smile, genuinely excited to see him.

"You're not supposed to. " he stares blankly. Dean looks directly at you and smiles, loving how blank and serious Cas can be coupled with how much you are not used to it. You had heard the angels were weird and in getting used to Cas  your main coping mechanism was to ignore his constant misunderstanding of polite small talk. It simply gave Dean to much pleasure if you were visibly frustrated with trying to bond with him. 

"So, I think I have an answer for you guys." You continue, putting your hands on a stack of books. You look down, running your hand over the seal on the cover and try not to be uncomfortable with the silence. It is really quiet. Like crazy quiet. Shit maybe this was a bad idea. Were they staring at you ? They were definitely staring. You look up and meet Dean's eyes first. He doesn't seem mad, or upset to be honest it doesn't even seem like he is wondering what you're going to say. He sits back in his chair looking almost confident, never breaking eye contact. 

"Well, are you going to share your answer?" Cas says breaking the silence.

"Leave!" Both Dean and Sam say at the same time.You're taken aback by how deep both their voices sound, stern like there could actually be a consequence if he didn't.

"Well I assume you will tell me later." He looks from Dean to Sam, then back to Dean. He turns to you, your eyes get big and you shrug not wanting to explain any part of this to Cas. He rolls his eyes, completely done with trying to figure out what the brothers are up to. He disappears in front of you and for the first time you are relieved by Cas not being present.

"So" Sam says, removing the book from his lap and leaning in. 

"So, I think I'd like to stay. Even if it isn't forever ya know." Your eyes shift between brothers "Just to ummm- to figure out what this is." Dean laughs into his beer,and Sam smiles down at his computer. 

"What?" you ask "Spit it out what's so funny?" you're getting frustrated. Why are they laughing, this is a big deal. They look at each other."Okay I get it I'm a joke."

"NO-no.no.You are not a joke." Dean says peeling the label on his beer bottle with his thumb, he bites down on his bottom lip "In Fact" he slowly tilts his head to the side and you momentarily think he's choosing his words carefully, as if he is having a tough time deciding what to say.

"We're relieved you decided to stay." Sam interjects. Crossing his arms across his chest "It's umm -It's good news that's all." He looks up, a smile playing on his lips. You feel yourself blushing under their gaze and decide to turn away.  

" We weren't laughing at you. It's a laugh of relief, relief that you decided to stay." Sam says running a hand through his hair. He turns himself back towards the computer-

"Hey guys, I think the ghost is part of a pattern" Sam breaks in pointing to something on his computer."The next ghost should appear tonight" he finishes.Dean snaps back into action.

"Suit up." Dean says, standing and pulling his gun from his waistband "I'll call Cas."

You head to your room for a more protective change of clothes and rush to meet them by the impala. 

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

"Well, that was an interesting one." Cas said, his angel blade thudding on the seat of the impala as he took his seat in the back.

"Get rid of the car, then text me and we will come get you." Dean said to Sam before he sped off to torch the old, possibly cursed chevy.

"Wait I thought you were going with Sam." you say trying to clarify the plan.

"I was but- Well I'm kind of interested to know what's going on here."Cas retorts.

"Leave." Dean says calmly 

"Ugh come on ! Again ?" Cas's protests fall on deaf ears.

"Leave!" he yells, about two minutes of silent driving pass and then in an immediate flutter, Cas is gone.

"You can't blame him for the intrigue." you say, shooting a smile over to Dean. "I mean, I don't even know what this is." you shake your head looking down at your hands.

"It amazes me, how you are so confident when it comes to killing a demon, or vamp or anything coming at you but, the second we're alone it's all blushing and fidgeting with your fingers." he chuckles.

"Are you bullying me?" you ask, narrowing your eyes toward him. 

"Nooo.nah." he jokes"Bullying you would be talking about how much you want me right now." he Juts his tongue out over his lower lip and slowly reels it in knowing you're watching, wanting him. He was good at this. "You want me to put my hand on your knee, and slowly run it up your thigh. Taking my time to get closer and closer to the place you really want me." He looked at you,raising his eyebrows. you said nothing so he continued. "I'd rub you through your pants for a while, until I could see a puddle starting to form on the outside of your jeans. I would whisper to you how much I love teasing you, how fun it is to watch squirm trying not to acknowledge the wet mess you are making from wanting  me." You readjust yourself in your seat involuntarily and he smirks when he notices.

"Go on." you say eyes focused on the road ahead. He breaks into a full on grin and you notice the gruffness of his voice, the curve of his jaw, the way the muscles in his forearms move while gripping the wheel. God he was a sight. 

"I'd slide my hand down your body,past your stomach, past the top of your panties and between your legs.You'd moan with pleasure as I lightly rub your aching pussy.I'd feel your body responding to my touch,your body tightening around my fingers.But I would continue to slide in and out of you.Faster.Deeper.Pushing into you. Your face would be flushed but not from nerves just from excitement."

You look over to him knowing that your inhibitions do tend to wash away the more turned on you are. He makes a right turn and you see a child riding his bike down the street. You're immediately embarrassed by how you have allowed yourself to let your mind be this sexual in broad daylight. You are also embarrassed that he noticed this about you, getting wet the more he talks about what he wants to do with you. "You'd make that squeaky moan noise you always do, and I'd let you cum all over my fingers, your legs shaking while you shudder on my hand." he exhales "Then, I'd probably take you home, fuck you senseless and send Cas out for more beer, so he doesn't interrupt us." he says abrubtly

"Wait. you can't just rush through it like that." You protest. He cocks a smile your way and you can feel your face heating up. 

"You like it when I talk dirty to you?" he asks

"Yes." you say, setting your jaw firmly and looking him directly in the eye.

"Well, we gotta get you home and take care of this broken lip first." He winks. You had completely forgotten that your upper lip had been busted amongst all the commotion. I didn't hurt but, you imagined it didn't exactly add to your sexual appeal. Maybe it was time for you to think about something other than sex with a Winchester.

"So, you knew Sam liked me ?" you asked . 

"He fucked you at a morgue it was clear he liked something." he chuckled

"No seriously. " you pressed "Do you just have an interest in me to get what you know Sam wants?........Or -or is it just because I'm there and you need a convenient lay?" you questioned as calmly as you could. 

" If I'm being honest" he sighs and takes a second. "I guess I don't really know.I don't hate Sam. I don't want to take away his chance at love or anything. But I don't want to miss mine." he wipes his nose on his sleeve but keeps his eyes on the road. He had a small cut on his nose that was bleeding,you hadn't even noticed it. 

"So it really is just a see how this goes kinda thing ?" you ask looking at him and willing him to  look back.

"It's a I like how it's gone so far kinda thing ?" he smiles and you roll your eyes , playfully accepting his way of looking at this new found relationship.

You pull up to the cemetery parking lot.The plan was to wait to hear from Sam to know if we have to dig up the body or if burning the vehicle was enough. 

"So what do Winchesters normally do to kill time?" you ask, crossing your arms and looking at Dean who was finishing, cleaning his gun on the back of the impala. 

"Well, that depends....usually we're fighting about something so it's not exactly like we're planning on killing time." you chuckle at his honest response and take a step closer to the back of the car.

He slams the trunk, replacing his gun in his waistband and once again shielding his mobile weaponry from the world with a slam. "But you're not a Winchester," he says, reaching out an arm. You take his hand.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" you ask. He pulls you forward quickly, jerking your arm slightly and you almost fall. He chuckles as you lean into him. 

"What a high school move" you joke.

" I barely graduated high school but,that was my peak. What can I say ?" He looks down and you can tell he's partially ashamed by women being the only thing he truly learned from school. He lightly places a hand on your hip and it slowly makes its way down to your ass. He uses the leverage to pull you in,and you giggle while looking up at him.

"So, I guess you how you want to kill time."you whisper to him 

" Only if you want to kill time the same way" he smiles, idling closer.

" O gee thanks, I get a choice." you joke

"I'm being a gentleman today what can I say ?" He pulls you in, kissing you, laying a hand on cheek and connecting with you showcasing a surprising amount of love and care. You kiss him back, matching his intensity. He moves his hand down from your cheek and rests it on your breast. You silently thank yourself for yourself for the ritual of not wearing a bra during hunts. You just like to feel free if you have to fight. But, Dean was focused on making you feel free in another way. He rubbed your nipples through your T-shirt and they stood at attention to his call. You could feel them pointing straight up and you weren't embarrassed at all. You really wanted him, you thought maybe he'd find a way to pull you into the back seat of the car, or make time for you once you all were safe back at the bunker. It wasn't until he told you to turn around that you realized he planned to fuck you right then and there. You turned and quickly wiggled your jeans down.

"My god you're beautiful draped over the car like that." he whispers to you. You're so caught up in his compliment that you are almost taken off guard as he pushes into you. A rush of air escapes your lungs as he presses you tighter to the trunk. You let out a moan and he lowers himself to your ear saying "I told you you squeak, babe." He pulled out of you slowly and you bit your bottom lip as he snapped into you again. "Fuck, you feel so good." you couldn't hold it in anymore, he felt amazing too. You push back into him and it's his turn to make a noise. He hits into you more and more, thrusting to make you cry out louder. He pulls your hair back, collecting it in one hand and forcing your head up to him . You can see him out of the corner of your eye and he smiles pushing into you harder. 

"Go ahead baby, come for me. Come on that dick." You couldn't deny it this time, you squealed and felt the rush of emotions and wetness leave your body, to be replaced by pure bliss.He lets go of your hair and hooks a hand around your throat, applying a little pressure but, being sure to say "I hope you know I'm not done with you yet." He pushes your legs apart more, moving further into the space between you. He slaps your ass and growls , holding your neck tighter. "God you're so fucking tight, I love it." you're overwhelmed by the pressure of him pushing in and out of you after your orgasm and it just makes you want to scream more. "I can feel you tightening." he laughs "go ahead sweetheart you can come again." Something about him giving you permission was enough to push you over the edge again. "Get on your knees " he commands, they move like jelly but, somehow you're able to get down there anyway. He slams himself into your mouth and you look up at him as he lets out a final growl, pushing himself further down your throat as he pumps thick cum into you. He tastes sweet, and as much as you hate the way he turns you into this dirty toy, you love the way it feels. Dean smiles down at you and you open your mouth showing him the remainders of himself on your tongue. 

"God baby you are so hot." he says putting himself back into his pants, you pull your jeans up and attempt to get yourself together. You swallow what was left of Dean and swing back into the passenger's seat, fixing your hair in the mirror. Dean slams the impala door and stretches his fingers on the steering wheel. 

"I'm- uh I'm not just using you. You know that right ?" you're taken aback by how blunt he is.

"I uh- I didn't think you were." you say , trying to feel out the situation. He turns to you,his face more serious than you had ever seen. Shit, did he think you wanted a real relationship out of this ? He readjusts his gun in his waistband, which had jostled during the hookup.

"No I'm um.....I'm not expecting anything. I know you and Sam have um- different ways of dealing with me and this situation, and that's okay." you say looking down at your hands in your lap. You're not afraid to look up at him as much as you're just embarrassed to have to discuss it. You guys hadn't spoken about the parameters of your open relationship since you decided to stay.

"We have different ways of dealing with you huh ?" he asks chuckling, turning toward you in his seat. 

"Yeah-why is that so funny?" you ask, becoming a little bit self-conscious. 

"You mean we fuck differently." he says breaking into a smile. You freeze for a second , really taking in what he just said. Once it registers, your hands fly up to your face and you cover your eyes. Dean bursts out laughing, reaching for your hands, he pulls them away from your face saying "Look, look there's nothing to be embarrassed about." You fight back until he eventually has to use his arms to force your forearms to your lap. You look at him defeated. 

"(Y/N) listen , I'm not weirded out talking about it. It's funny, we're different in every other way, it's not that shocking that we want different things sexually too." the car was silent for a moment, while you looked at your hands. "Besides" he continued "I'm cool with talking about anything as long as you don't tell me Sam's bigger than me. That's a hit to the ego I don't think I can take." 

You snort at his fragile masculinity "Well, he's taller than you. It's just proportional-" Dean cuts you off covering his ears and yelling La La La like a full-on toddler. Now, it's your turn to double over in laughter. 

Dean & Jensen tags: @akshi8278​

[thran-duils]

Watch Me Burn (P.6)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 2,111 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness Author’s Note: Italics are the past!

Chap 5 || Chap 7 || Fanfic masterpost || Masterpost (mobile)

You managed to drive yourself, claiming you had to make a few stops on the way back to the office after lunch. Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Tara had carpooled together and were already seated when you arrived. The only chair open was fortunately by Charlie but unfortunately across from Sam. The double decker sandwich looked good and you could take it home for dinner. But having Sam staring at you across the table… you ordered a salad. You did not miss the quick uptick on his lips, satisfied by your choice. You felt shame clawing away at you inside for succumbing to his shadow. Focusing on the conversation happening around the table and pretending to be okay was proving hard.

“Today’s a good day. I am so excited you’re here,” Dean said slapping Sam on the back. He looked beside himself.

“Likewise, man,” Sam said in turn.

“And Dean did get himself out of a ticket this morning apparently. He’s having a great day,” Tara jested.

Sam laughed asking Dean what she meant. And Dean explained he had talked his way out of a speeding ticket; that was no surprise, he was suave.

“And I got an extra cookie at the coffee shop by accident!” Charlie piped up, looking pleased with herself. She took a long drink of her milkshake before offering you the straw. You laughed, waving her off, gesturing at your water. “Party pooper.”

Dean pointed at you and you sat up straighter, “And Y/N is having a good day too. Getting flowers.”

“Aw, did Cas send you flowers?” Charlie exclaimed teasingly. She was only poking fun and normally that would be okay, but Sam’s gaze was burning into you. Charlie did not know better, how could she? You had not told her the specifics of your time at Austin, specifically who you had had the relationships with.

Tara cocked her head in curiosity. “Cas?”

“Her man,” Charlie informed her, and you wanted to melt into the ground.

“You move fast,” Dean chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. He was giving you a knowing look before shooting a quick one at Sam. He brought his glass to his lips, taking a drink, looking amused.

Him and Sam must be closer than you initially thought. There was no mistaking he knew about you and Sam with the way he was acting.

Stumbling, you opened your mouth to say something, but you were having trouble gathering yourself. For better or worse, Charlie was having no problem.

“Oh, he’s not new, don’t worry. Y/N isn’t foolish,” Charlie told Dean, coming to your defense.

“No, no. We’ve known each other for years, actually,” you said, finally finding a steady voice.

Sam’s nose twitched as he cleared his throat. The food came interrupting the conversation for a few moments, giving you time to breath. But not for long.

“He’s got a bar,” Charlie intoned, digging into her fries. “Real good bar food too.”

“Is that so?” Sam asked, looking at you pointedly. You nodded, faking a small smile.

“It’s a dive bar,” you explained and then wondered why you felt you needed to downplay Castiel’s place. Who cares if it was a dive or a high-end bar? It was his and it was special to you.

Scoffing loudly, Charlie said, “It’s a hell of a lot of fun is what it is. Heyyy!” She clapped her hands and you already saw the words forming. Your stomach tightened, wanting to slap your hand over her mouth. “Since we are supposed to be going out next week, maybe instead of that other place, we could go to Cas’ place! That would be cool. The drinks aren’t badly priced and I am honestly sick of sushi restaurants. Evelyn can eat it – sorry, Tara – because she’s gotten to choose the last couple places!”

There were murmurs of agreements around the table, as well as chuckles shared at Charlie’s expense of her lack of a filter.

“Yeah, maybe. It’d be nice to see where you set your roots down, Y/N. You’re missed in Austin,” Sam commented, taking a sip of his water.

You were sure you were.

Shrugging, smiling around the table, you said, “I am sure Cas won’t complain about the business.”

“Of course not, I’ll be there,” Charlie chirped, drawing another chorus of laughs.

<> <> <>

It had taken everything in you for the rest of the day to keep yourself together knowing Sam was so close. You tensed every time someone knocked on your door, let alone walked by. He had not popped in after lunch, much to your relief. But still, you had spent all afternoon waiting for him to appear in front of your desk, peering down at you, making you feel small.

That first time when he had ignored the rules should have been the moment you walked away. But you had not; you had let him make it up to you. And he did.

Until it happened again. And he told you he would make it up to once more.

He had managed to begin wedging himself into your life outside the bedroom. He talked you up at parties, told people you were planning on going for more education – something you had flippantly mentioned and he latched onto it, insisting that that was the right path for you. Whispers fell on you as he passed about your outfit, encouraging you to wear more dresses because that was more suitable, and it was pleasing to him to see you walk by. Whispers about how many calories were in the tenders and fries you had ordered along with a few others from a local restaurant for lunch.

Sam talked about you coming back after school and taking a leadership position. He talked about your future, like he was in charge of shaping it himself. There was no mistake he was plotting to get you firmly in his clutches, mold you into the perfect little wife for himself.

Educated, pretty, and good in the bedroom.

As soon as you had heard about the opening back home, you had jumped on the opportunity. You had asked Jerry to keep it under wraps that you had applied, praying he had no idea about the relationship between you and Sam. When he agreed, you assumed he had not, and you had been relieved. Seeing the look on Sam’s face when you were clearing out your office was worth it. He had cornered you and you told him with more bravery than you thought you possessed that the other office had a better position, and you were leaving that night. You had planned it out to be able to escape from the city, so he did not have an opportunity to try to persuade you to stay by showing up at your place.

He could not cause a scene in the office and you were able to slip out the door and away.

If only he had just stayed in Austin.

<> <> <>

You slapped a twenty on the counter in front of Castiel, plopping into the bar stool. “Double. Please.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Castiel leaned forward, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

Shrugging, you said, “Nothing. I just need a stiff one. Quickly.”

He studied you for a few moments before taking the twenty and moving back hesitantly. He fetched you the drink and you exchanged a hello with a regular that passed by. You had gone home, thrown your bag on the couch and come downstairs immediately to the bar still in your work attire. There was no wonder why Castiel seemed confused and concerned about your demeanor.

When he placed it in front of you, you gave a quick, ‘Cheers’ before downing half the drink. When you came up for air, you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes, feeling the drink move down.

Opening your eyes again, you saw Castiel down the bar topping off the other patron’s drinks before whispering something to the cook, Raphael, who had come out. Raphael nodded at him and Castiel came back towards you.

“Come on for a minute,” Castiel said, beckoning you with two fingers. You opened your mouth to protest, but he said, “Bring your drink if you need to. To the back.”

Reluctantly, you followed him, drink in hand.

He led you to the back room and closed the door behind the pair of you. He turned on his heel and asked, “Alright. Cut the shit. What’s wrong?” You again opened your mouth, but he held up his hand. “And don’t feed me bullshit, Y/N. Be honest.”

Castiel was not going to let it go until you told him. Maybe it was just better to get it off your chest now rather than hold it in. You did promise yourself you were going to do better by the two of you this time around and keeping something like this from him was not going to serve you well in the long run.

You wet your lips. “Do… do you remember that guy I told you about?”

Castiel looked confused for a moment. “Which…?”

“The one who… who didn’t, you know, listen to me? With the safe words?”

It was hard to get it out.

Realization dawned on Castiel’s face. He straightened up, staring you down. “Yes. Why?”

“He’s here!” you blurted, your hands shaking, holding tightly to your glass. Castiel cocked his head, his forehead creasing. “He moved here. To the office, I mean.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel asked, stepping closer.

“He’s working on a project here.”

“He was an ex coworker?”

“Yes. One of the junior partners. One of my superiors.”

Castiel looked in disbelief for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Christ, Y/N. Really?”

Defending yourself, you snapped, “I didn’t ask him to come here!”

“No—That’s not it,” Castiel sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You don’t get involved with coworkers. Especially your bosses!”

“You are really going to chastise me right now?”

“Fuck. No. I’m sorry. Just…” Castiel trailed off, hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

You took the silence as an opportunity to take another long gulp off your drink.

“How long is he gonna be there?” Castiel asked after a few moments.

“I’m not sure,” you told him honestly. “Projects vary. This one is a big one. He is thankfully working more so with Dean and not just me directly.” You took another drink. “But they wanna come here. To the bar.” Castiel looked at you expectantly and you explained, “Well, Charlie – and she didn’t mean to because she has no idea what happened, believe me – suggested everyone come here sometime after work. And Tara agreed. And of course Sam did because he knows about you now and he is gonna wanna–”

“Sam?”

“That’s his name.”

“You hadn’t said it yet. And what is exactly gonna wanna do?”

Throwing your hand out at him, you said, “To see you. Size you up.” Castiel cocked an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “You know how people are when they wanna see their competition.”

Castiel closed the space between the two of you and he asked seriously, “Am I competition?”

Realizing how that must have sounded, you quickly said, “Of course not! I left Austin for a reason.” Castiel did not look convinced and you grasped his hand tightly. “Seriously. I almost threw up when I saw him. And not in a good way! No excitement there. Just… dread, I guess.”

He was quiet for a few moments before saying firmly, “You should tell your boss.” You started to shake your head and he cut in roughly, “Why? Why would you not if you are not feeling safe?”

The absolute last thing you wanted to do was rehash anything that happened with Sam with anyone else other than Castiel. Not right now or maybe ever. Who would believe you in that company anyway? Sam was a golden boy, loved by everyone and a superstar at his work. Trying to talk to someone, especially your boss, about what had happened could cost you your job.

“I don’t want to,” you said thickly, tears forming. “I don’t wanna talk to anyone else about it. I just… wanna forget it.”

“You can’t.”

“I know. But I want to try to. He’ll be gone soon enough and…” you exhaled shakily, squeezing Castiel’s hand once more and he returned the gesture. “I can get back to normal after that.”

Nodding knowingly, Castiel enveloped you to him, holding you close.

“I’ll kick his ass if he tries anything,” He told you quietly.

You laughed, letting out some tension. “I know. I know you would, Cas.”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas