#but then they never did anything actually good with it. instead we have dean really die for 4 months

[lovyabug]

Besides my deep disappointment with the downhill of sam winchesters character, i still am enjoying supernatural. Its a pretty cool world despite all the plotholes, and i really really love dean and sams characters.

I also really like castiel, but i feel like the show isnt using his character to the fullest and im on s6. So theyv had plenty of time to expand his character, the same way theyv done with bobby.

Also also, i wish there was more fanfic where castiel is written true to his showself, a lot of them make him ooc/infantilise him instead of writing him as like. An actual adult lmao

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Eight

Pairing: Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 3.7k

Warning: Angst....

A/N: first of many fights <3 also your comments make my day 

-----

You walk into the apartment, the excitement from your date still buzzing faintly inside you—until you spot Bucky sitting on the couch. His eyes immediately flick to yours, his expression unreadable, and just like that, any leftover thrill from the night vanishes, replaced by an ache that settles heavily in your chest.

It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him all week, and for a second, neither of you says anything. Then he stands, clearing his throat. “So… how’d it go?”

His words reignite the frustration you’ve been holding back since last week, since his careless comment at the bar. Instead of brushing past him like you’d planned, you stop, crossing your arms and staring at him, letting your words come out sharper than you intended.

“Good. It was a great date, actually,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dean was a total gentleman, and wouldn’t you know it—I handled a real date just fine.”

A flicker of regret crosses his face, but he quickly looks away, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “That’s… that’s not how I meant it. I don’t know why I said that, and you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, as you shrugged off your coat, placing your keys and phone in the dish. “Really, Bucky? Because lately, that seems like the only thing you’ve been doing—hurting me.”

His gaze snaps back to you, his expression hardening. “You really want to do this? Just… hash everything out right now?”

You throw your arms up, the frustration boiling over. “Why the hell not? It’s not like things have been getting any better with us pretending everything’s fine!”

He steps closer, his jaw tight. “Fine. Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about that night, then.” He pauses, his voice dropping as his eyes bore into yours. “Why did you leave?”

You freeze, caught off guard. “What… what do you mean?”

He takes another step toward you, anger and hurt evident in his face. “You know exactly what I mean. After that night at the party, after we… after we slept together. Why did you leave without a word? I woke up, and you were just gone.”

Your pulse quickens, emotions swirling in a chaotic mess inside you. “Are you kidding me, Bucky? Did you even want me to stay?”

He lets out a hollow laugh, the sound filled with disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! You’re the one who walked out, not me!”

The anger rises, mixing with all the hurt and confusion you’ve buried over the years. “I left because… because I panicked, alright? You had this reputation, Bucky, and everyone knew it. I thought… I thought you’d wake up, regret it, and hate me for being just another one of your mistakes.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing across his face. “Do you really think that little of me? You think I’d just… forget about you? You’re my best friend, for god’s sake. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and you thought I’d throw that away for just sex?”

“Oh, so it was just sex, huh?” you snap, bitterness dripping from every word.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” he shouts, frustration evident as he rakes a hand through his hair, his voice breaking slightly. “God, you have to know it was more than that!”

You cross your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold everything in. “I don’t know what I thought, Bucky. But I knew I couldn’t stand being something you regretted. I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for you to decide whether it was worth anything to you.”

He stares at you, hurt and frustration radiating from him. “All I’ve ever done is care about you. Everything people said about me, all those rumors—they were just that. Rumors. I thought you of all people would know that.”

You look away, fighting the sting of tears in your eyes, but he steps closer, his voice rising. “Do you know how much it killed me? You left me there like it meant nothing.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you think it did!” you shout back, anger overtaking the sadness. “Maybe that night wasn’t some big, life-changing moment for either of us. Maybe it was just a mistake!”

His face crumples slightly, like you’ve slapped him, and his voice drops, filled with hurt. “Is that really what you think?”

You hesitate, the words burning in your throat, but you nod, unable to back down. “I… I don’t know, Bucky. All I know is that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting around, trying to read between the lines, hoping you’ll finally decide what you want.”

He steps back, his face hardening, his voice cold. “Then maybe you should go. If you’re so tired of being here, if I’m such a disappointment to you… maybe it’s better for both of us if you’re not here.”

Your heart clenches painfully, but you force yourself to nod, swallowing back the tears. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’ll go.”

“Go, then!” he yells, his eyes flashing, and you can see the unshed tears there, barely contained. “Get out. Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore. Just… leave.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. Then, without another word, you turn on your heel, your hands shaking. You feel the tears spilling over as you open the door, but you don’t let yourself look back, slamming it behind you, the sound echoing painfully through the empty apartment.

The chill of the night air bites into your skin as you walk through the dark streets, the city lights casting a glow around you, making the world feel almost surreal. You’re shivering, partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline that’s kept you moving since you stormed out of the apartment, leaving behind your coat, your phone—everything. You feel like you’re walking through a dream, or maybe a nightmare, your heels clicking against the pavement in the silence.

It’s only after you’ve been walking for a while, the shock wearing off, that you realize the closest place you can go is Steve and Sam’s. You pick up your pace, arms wrapped around yourself, mascara streaking down your cheeks as the wind stings your face. It’s late, nearly ten o’clock on a Saturday night, and as you walk you can’t help but worry. What if they’re not home? What if you just end up standing outside in the cold, with nowhere to go?

You finally reach their apartment building and practically rush up to their door, knocking, then pressing your ear to the door, hoping you hear movement inside. The minutes feel like hours, and you’re starting to feel that familiar rise of panic, the one that tightens your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Just as you’re about to give up, you hear footsteps on the other side.

The door unlocks, and then it opens, revealing Steve.His face shifts from confusion to shock as he takes you in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, voice thick with concern as he quickly pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you. “Are you okay?”

The second you’re inside, the warmth of the apartment breaks down whatever wall you were holding up. You start crying, and without a word, Steve wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob against his chest.

After a moment, he gently guides you to sit on the couch, his hand rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. But as you pull away, wiping at your smudged makeup, you see the worry in his eyes shift to something sharper, angrier.

“Wait,” he says, frowning as he looks you over again. “Where’s your coat? And your phone? You didn’t just walk all the way here without anything, did you?”

You sniffle, still catching your breath, and nod, the hurt fresh all over again. “I left everything at the apartment,” you manage, voice shaky. “I just… I couldn’t stay there, Steve. Bucky told me to get out. He told me to leave.”

Steve’s face falls in shock, his mouth opening slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “He… he told you to get out?” he repeats, trying to process it. “And then just let you walk out? At this hour? Without your things?”

You nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cover your face. “I don’t think he… he was just so mad, Steve. I was too. He didn’t care. He just… told me to go.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, struggling to contain his anger. “That’s no excuse. I don’t care how mad he was, he should’ve never let you leave like that. He should’ve checked on you, at the very least. Damn it…” He reaches out, squeezing your shoulder with a mix of anger and worry. “You should have called me. I’d have come to get you in a second.”

You offer a small, broken smile through your tears, still trembling. “I know… I just… wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He shakes his head, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze intense and filled with concern. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice softens, his anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness. “I just can’t believe he let you walk out alone. It kills me that you felt like you had to do this.”

He squeezes your shoulder, his voice soft. “Do you want to talk about it, or just… sit for a while?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “I don’t even know what to say. Everything just… came out. All these things we’ve been avoiding saying, and… I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d hurt this much.”

Steve nods, a sad, sympathetic look crossing his face. “Sometimes… those things we avoid saying are the things that hurt the most. Especially when it’s someone we care about.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and he reaches up, brushing it away gently. His eyes are soft, filled with an empathy that makes you feel a little less alone. “Thank you, Steve,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

You lean into him, letting yourself sink into his warmth, and he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you again. The adrenaline finally ebbs, exhaustion taking its place as you relax in his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since you left.

You close your eyes, and before long, you start to feel them grow heavy, your breaths slowing as you begin to drift off on Steve’s shoulder.

A few minutes later, Steve’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He carefully shifts, trying not to disturb you, and pulls it out to see a message from Natasha: Hey, have you heard from her? She hasn’t updated me on the date, isn’t answering her phone, and I’m getting worried.

He sighs, glancing at you before typing back, She’s here. She walked from the apartment without her phone or her coat. She and Bucky got into it, pretty bad, ive never seen her like this.

Natasha’s response is almost instant: Are you kidding me? followed by a string of angry emojis.

Steve takes a deep breath, looking down at you as he types out another message, this time to Bucky, his fingers pressing the keys harder than usual: She’s here. Alone. No thanks to you! Without her things. And you let her walk out like that? What the hell were you thinking?

He sends the message and then texts Sam, who’s still out with coworkers, letting him know to be quiet when he comes home because you’re sleeping on the couch. A moment later, Sam replies with a string of question marks.

Steve glances down at you, tucked against him, your breathing even and steady now, and sighs before typing a final message to Sam: I’ll explain everything later.

Steve sits on the couch, holding you gently as you fall asleep against him, your breathing soft and steady now, a world away from the state you were in when you first showed up at the door. He glances down at you, feeling a pang in his chest as he takes in the remnants of your makeup, smudged from the tears you cried on his shoulder, and he’s struck by just how much he hates seeing you like this—hurting, broken down, all because of Bucky.

Yet, selfishly, there’s a part of him—deep down, hidden from everyone, including himself most days—that’s grateful you came to him tonight. He knows it’s wrong, knows it’s just his heart betraying him again, but he can’t help it. He’s loved you since junior high, since you were both just kids fumbling through life, figuring out what friendship meant. And over the years, that love has only deepened, becoming something he never talks about, never even lets slip. He’s had to sit on the sidelines and watch as you poured your heart into Bucky, hoping one day he’d finally open his eyes and see you the way Steve does.

You deserve everything in the world, Steve thinks. Someone who’ll give you the love you’ve always deserved, who wouldn’t leave you standing alone in the middle of a dark city street, heartbroken and afraid. But instead, you’re stuck in love with someone who’s too scared to do anything about it, and Steve… he’s just the friend you come to when it all falls apart.

A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away quickly, forcing a silent, bitter laugh at himself. You’re his Bucky, he realizes painfully, and he’s you—watching, waiting, knowing you’ll never see him the way he sees you. It’s a cruel irony, and he hates himself for even thinking it.

Just then, the door creaks open, and Sam steps inside, blinking in surprise as he takes in the sight of you curled up against Steve, your tear-streaked face softened in sleep. He gives Steve a puzzled look, eyebrows raised, and Steve just raises a finger to his lips, shushing him. Carefully, he shifts out from under you, gently laying your head on the couch cushion and covering you with the throw blanket. He watches you for a moment before standing up and walking over to Sam, who’s now leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“What happened?” Sam asks, his voice low as he eyes Steve with concern.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “She showed up about an hour ago, just… wrecked. Crying, shivering at the door. She didn’t have her phone, her keys, or even a coat.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “What? Why didn’t she have her stuff?”

Steve’s jaw tightens as he answers, anger simmering in his voice. “Because Bucky told her to leave. They had a huge fight, and he just let her walk out like that. She came here on foot, alone, and he didn’t stop her. Didn’t even check if she had what she needed.”

Sam lets out a long breath, running his hands down his face in frustration. “Are you kidding me? That guy is such an idiot sometimes.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve mutters, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I thought he was supposed to tell her how he felt. I thought he was ending things with Kate.”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “I know. I thought that was the plan too. Just last week, he said he was done with the excuses, that he was going to finally tell her. I don’t know what the hell’s holding him back, but tonight… she had her first date in years, Steve. She was supposed to have a good night, for once, and instead, she’s here, like this.”

Steve’s gaze shifts back to you, his heart aching as he watches you sleep. “I don’t get it. If he cares about her like he says he does, why does he keep doing this to her? Why won’t he just be honest?”

Sam sighs, shaking his head as he leans against the counter. “I don’t know, man. But she was so happy earlier. Right before her date, and she just… she was glowing. I hadn’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. “And now… now she’s back to this, all because of him.”

Sam lets out a deep breath, crossing his arms. “Maybe this is a turning point, though. Maybe some good can come from this mess.”

Steve frowns, glancing back at him. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

Sam gestures toward you, curled up on the couch. “Maybe some space between them will be good for both of them. She can finally see that she deserves better than this back-and-forth, and he can realize what he’s throwing away. Maybe it’s what they both need.”

Steve sighs, looking down, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… maybe.” But as he stares at you, asleep on the couch, he can’t shake the quiet ache in his chest, wondering if you’ll ever see that someone’s been there for you all along.

---

The next morning, Steve steps out of his room to find Sam already up, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. Sam glances toward the couch, noticing you still curled up, fast asleep, wrapped in a throw blanket.

“She’s still out,” Sam says quietly, nodding in your direction.

Steve looks over at you and nods. “Yeah, she must've been exhausted,” he says softly.

Sam takes a sip of his coffee, watching Steve for a moment before asking, “You gonna skip your run today?”

Steve glances back at him, then shakes his head. “I can miss a day,” he replies with a shrug, moving into the kitchen and grabbing things from the fridge to start breakfast.

Sam watches him, setting his mug down on the counter. “Look, man… this can’t be good for you either.”

Steve pauses, glancing at Sam. “What do you mean?”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “Come on, you know what I mean. You, being in love with her all these years.” He lowers his voice slightly, glancing over at you again. “Just… I don’t want to see any more of my best friends getting hurt, alright?”

Steve sighs, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Keep it down, Sam. She’s literally right there.”

Sam sighs too, his tone gentler now. “I’m just saying, Steve, you can still be a good guy and a good friend… while protecting your own heart. I don’t want you to keep waiting around and getting hurt.”

Steve nods slowly, resuming his work in the kitchen. “I know what I’m doing, Sam. Trust me. It’s been years of this. I’ll be fine.”

Sam gives him a skeptical look but just shakes his head, muttering, “Whatever you say, man.” He reaches for a mixing bowl, getting ready to make pancakes. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the smell of pancakes and coffee filling the kitchen.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees you beginning to stir on the couch. You stretch, blinking as you slowly sit up, momentarily disoriented, and your eyes go wide as you remember where you are.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sam says with a grin, turning around to look at you.

“Oh God…” you murmur, running a hand over your face, slightly embarrassed. Everything from last night rushes back in a blur.

“You okay?” Steve asks, concern in his voice as he sets down the spatula.

“Yeah, just a bit of a headache,” you mumble, wincing slightly.

Without a word, Steve gets up and heads to the bathroom, returning with some Tylenol and a glass of water. You give him a grateful smile as you take them.

Sam grins, shooting you a playful look. “Well, you look like shit.”

“Sam!” Steve yells, half-scolding him, but you just laugh, shaking your head.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, swallowing the Tylenol. “I feel like it, too.”

Steve sits beside you for a moment, watching as you sip the water. Sam looks at you thoughtfully, then says, “You should go take a shower. I bet it’ll help clear your head.”

You nod, biting your lip. “I would… but I don’t exactly have anything to wear.”

Steve immediately jumps up, nodding toward his room. “I’m sure I can find some clothes that’ll work for you. Hold on.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he says, smiling warmly. “Anything for you.”

He heads down the hall, and you follow, feeling a little lighter with each step. Once in his room, he digs through his dresser and hands you a pair of sweatpants, a soft T-shirt, and a towel. “Use whatever you need in the bathroom,” he says gently, his gaze warm and steady.

As he’s about to turn and leave the room, you stop him. “Stevie?”

He pauses, turning back. “Yeah?”

You give him a small, heartfelt smile. “Thank you. For everything. For always being such a great friend to me.”

Steve’s heart sinks slightly at the word “friend,” the weight of all the things he’s never said pressing down on him. But he musters a smile, nodding. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

You give him one last grateful look before heading to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath as your emotions resurface.

You turn on the shower, feeling the steam rise as you slip out of yesterday’s clothes. The hot water pours over you, soothing your tense muscles as you stand there, letting everything you’ve been holding in pour out.

Your thoughts drift to Bucky, to the fight, to everything that was said, and the words echo painfully in your mind. You wonder if he felt any regret after you left, if he realized how much his words hurt. But then you think about how he’d looked at you, the anger and frustration in his eyes, and your heart twists painfully. It’s a cycle, you realize—a cycle of loving someone who can’t seem to decide if he wants to hold onto you or push you away.

As the water washes over you, you close your eyes, trying to let go of the ache in your chest, but it lingers, a constant reminder of the choice you don’t know how to make.

[shanastoryteller]

Shana, your tags on this post ...I need to know more! What exactly was the plan for Supernatural season 3 if it hasn't been for the writer's strike??? And how haven't I heard about this already?? I need the deets!

i'm so glad you asked :)

the original plan for season 3 was for sam to descend into using his demon powers to get dean out of the deal, and for dean to never go to hell. then the writers strike happened, the season got cut from 22 eps to 16, with only 4 after the strike, and that wasn't enough time to establish sam's spiral and powers, so changed the ending. it's on the wiki and there are some articles around about it

this was, in my opinion, the worst fucking decision they could make

it ruined the characters in a lot of ways and really unbalanced everything in a way the show never recovered from

the thing is that this arc is so well set up!

literally at the end of season 2 we get

"You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care, I'm going to get you out of this. I'm going to save your ass for a change."

sam has evaded azazel's every attempt to corrupt him. his shitty home life, all the demons he's exposed sam to, killing jessica, taking away his father, putting him in a literal life or death hunger games scenario. each time sam refuses to play ball

(sam's incorruptibility is what makes him qualified to be king of hell, but that's a different post)

he's the moral compass between him and dean. always has been. there is nothing in sam's messed up, twisted life that has pushed him pass mercy

but dean could do it. there's nothing sam wouldn't do for his big brother

john told dean that he had to either save sam or kill him. except he's never needed to save sam, because it's literally always sam making the measured, compassionate, merciful call. he's the one holding dean back, not the other way around

and sam straining towards darkness for the first time, for dean, would kill him. we'll come back to this

mystery spot, as an episode, is actually pointless if the plan was for dean to go to hell. because sam's sneak peek into what his life is like after dean doesn't do anything. i love this ep, but it's narratively pointless now

however

with the og plan, mystery spot is the turning point. it not only tells sam how miserable he'll be after dean is gone, but it also establishes what he's willing to do to get him back - pretty much anything. it's not theoretical pain, it's not theoretical grief. mystery spot is the thing that pushes sam towards being hard, away from the moral sweetness he's embodied for the past two and half seasons.

the next ep, jus in bello, shows this. sam is considering doing the terrible thing. he's now capable of considering the terrible thing in a way he wasn't before mystery spot. this is when his descent starts, when sam decides he's willing to trade his humanity for his brother's life

and then the writer's strike happened

right when it's getting good, right when sam's arc is ramping up, we lose it. and instead of picking it back up, pushing dean's deal to next season and giving it the weight it deserves, they say fuck it, and send dean to hell

but this fucks it all up. we have sam's "descent" with ruby and demon blood. except not really because he's not even hurting anyone. and dean's back, but not because of sam. sam didn't save him

this fucks it all up

because deans anger and fear and desire to save sam should have been tempered with the knowledge that he did that to save dean's life. that once more someone dean loves has made a terrible sacrifice for him, which he can't stand, which he hates. he has the self esteem of a gnat and the best people he knows keep destroying themselves for his benefit

i think the og build up was sam strengthening his powers to kill lilith, doing it, and then releasing lucifer at the end of s3. sam unwittingly starting the apocolypse to save his brother (does he regret it, dean wonders. it would be easier if he did)

and now everything is shit and dean's drowning but here and his brother has turned himself into something that's not unlike the kid dean loves so much it almost killed him, but not exactly the same. and now he understands john, because this is the sam that dean has to either save or kill, except he could never kill him. he loves him (and how can he kill sam for doing this when it's dean's fault, when dean made the deal that doomed his brother when all he wanted was to save him)

this is the flip that the show has been building towards. dean having to be the moral center for his brother for once. dean being the one saved. dean finally having to face his father's words and deciding once and for all if he's john's son or sam's brother

but instead dean goes to hell. and he's no one moral's center. because he broke in hell, he tortured people and he enjoyed it. they ruined dean with this. because instead of fighting and growing from his violence, they push him into it, and then they call him a righteous man. dean was the one harming people, he's the one that descended into darkness, not sam. sam and his demon blood had still only been trying to good, and in the end did do good, far more than anything dean did in hell, or has done since. his moral outrage, his anger, his disgust towards sam isn't only wildly out of character, it's hypocritical as hell. sam remains the moral, compassionate one, even through this. it never slides to dean. neither of them are really forced to grow or change, only to become twisted into each other in ways that hurt them both

this should have been the story of what sam would do to save his brother (anything) and what dean would do to save his brother (anything)

they should have saved each other

[naughtystiel]

It wasn’t raining.

For some reason whenever Dean thought of this day, he imagined the sky to be covered with heavy dark clouds. Clearly this wasn’t the case. Instead, everything seemed so lively. Spring brought chirping birds, vividly coloured flowers began to bloom and the sun shone brightly high in the sky. The few people gathered around wore light jackets so it really had to be a beautiful day. He wished he could feel the warmth on his skin too.

A priest stood on the opposite end of the deep hole and Dean grimaced. He had never been a religious man and he wasn’t going to listen to anything that was coming out of the priest’s mouth now either. Meandering between people, he walked further away. Yeah, Lord have mercy and rest in peace o’wayward son.

So, where did he go from here?

“Hello.” Somebody said next to him, but Dean didn’t even bother to look. They weren’t talking to him anyway. They couldn’t be. With arms loosely crossed over his chest, he looked skywards. It was a beautiful day.

“Dean?”

Dean looked to the side, an eyebrow raised. A man in his thirties observed him, hands tucked in his dress pants. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

The man nodded his chin towards the priest, “Heard him mention a Dean, so I’m guessing that must be you. Nice suit.” He smiled and Dean looked down at his outfit. Suits weren’t exactly his thing, but he didn’t really think to make a will and they shoved him in this. Did they even bury people in plaids? Probably.

“That would be me, indeed.” Dean tilted his head to the side and scanned the graveyard. Interesting. “Are you dead too? I guess you gotta be.”

The man hummed, “Mmm, you could say so.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Was that a yes or a no? “So, is it just you and me or is anybody else here with us?”

“Nah, they moved on.”

“And you?"

“In the process.”

“I see.”

They both stood in silence, watching the ceremony. A few roses got dropped into the hole. A nice gesture, but it was a waste of money. They could at least put it on top once the casket was actually covered with dirt.

Low rumble disrupted the quiet. “How are you feeling?”

Dean splayed his arms and shrugged. “I mean, I’m dead. I don’t really know.”

The man turned his head towards Dean. “Okay, lemme ask you this - what’s on your mind? Anything particular?”

Now that was a good question. Nothing. A lot. First thing that came to mind was that he wouldn’t be able to see that new Indiana Jones movie he was so looking forward to. But that was just stupid, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t he be thinking of his regrets? Unfinished business? “I wish I could feel the sun on my cheeks.”

“Ah, that I can agree with. The sunset kind. Not too sharp, soft like a gentle veil that droops over your face.” The man gave him a small smile and Dean nodded.

“You see that tall guy there? The tallest of them all. My brother. Last time I saw him we argued.” Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess it kinda bothers me that this is how he’s gonna remember me now.”

“Probably not. Usually when a person dies you remember the good things. Unless of course the bad outweighed the good which I don’t think is the case here.” The man scuffed the tip of his polished shoe in the dirt. “Grieving is complicated, it messes with your head. I bet you heard about how it usually progresses but personally I think it’s more like jumping back and forth between the steps. It does pass though.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

The man shrugged, his dark lock tousled by gentle breeze. He kept his gaze down, chewing on his bottom lip. “Only stating the facts. Anything else bothering you?”

just a snippet of "the art of moving on" which i might work on more in the future. and if i do, it wont be very long but i think itd be worth exploring :)

[winchesterscorner]

[Crowley] - Take The Help, Darling

♫ - Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding

You weren't sure how it had happened, or for that matter, when. What you did know, right now, is that you were pretty banged up and bleeding quite excessively. It was nothing you probably couldn't patch up yourself, and you knew for a fact you had experienced much worse. Nobody had been on Death's door quite as much as you. 

You had joined Sam and Dean in their hunting business almost a year ago to the day, and you had gone from being a childhood best friend of Sam (which came with a Dean) to being a very valued member of the team. Your specialty was language and deciphering symbols where the boys could not. Their knowledge was nothing to be ashamed of, they were very clever, but there were certain things even they didn't know and always turned to you in the end. You didn't mind, of course, they kept you safe and fed in repayment.

Almost all of the time.

This time, however, was unexpected. You found yourself dealing with three demons, who had showed up just outside the bunker and were looking for Dean specifically. After you had refused to let them in, obviously knowing better, they drew their knives and you dropped your bag, brandishing your own blade.

"Okay, so we're doing this.." you thought to yourself. 

One demon went down fairly easy, but it was still you against two, and you weren't the biggest or tallest of people. Not as though that would matter, these were very strong demons. You did a pretty good job fending them off, and you tried to outrun them long enough to at least call one of the boys. You almost had it, finger hovering over Dean's name, and just before you could press anything, your phone was flung out of your hand, well out of reach. Sighing, you took a deep breath and launched yourself over the box you had been behind, catching one of the demons with your blade. As he went down, it gave you just enough time to see where the other one was. 

The fight went on for a few more minutes, you both punching and kicking as well as getting a few nicks here and there from each blade. However, one misstep from you and the demon stabbed you in the thigh, causing you to fall to the floor. The demon stood above you, with a grin, knowing you realistically can't go anywhere. 

"We'll send Winchester your way."

You closed your eyes tight, expecting the worst and accepting your fate. Some seconds had passed, too many for a demon so intent on killing you. You opened your eyes to see what the delay was, and the demon was above you, knife sticking out of his front. The metal was removed, and he fell next to you, lifeless. Above you now, stood a familiar face, and a very unexpected one at that.

"Hello, Y/N, in a spot of bother, are we?" 

Crowley was not the person you were expecting to see before you, he may actually have been the last person you thought you'd see. 

You hadn't really known Crowley too long, about as long as you had been working with the boys. You knew he was untrustworthy, but to you, he had never been anything but kind. There was a time when you needed someone, and Crowley had simply popped in to annoy Dean to pass a bit of time, but instead found you crying on the floor. He wasn't sure why, but his instincts brought him to sit next to you, arm around your shoulder to comfort you. You talked out your problem, and found yourself enamoured by him from then on.

You were very aware he was the King of Hell, but he was so sweet to you. He brought you flowers sometimes when the boys were away, gifts here and there. Nothing you had asked for, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Sam and Dean didn't, but really you didn't care. He had a sweet tongue, but mostly he was quick witted and sarcastic and in every situation, he had some sort of quip.

Even in this situation, he still couldn't refrain from a quick bit of sarcasm, which you promptly fired back with. 

"No, I was perfectly fine, of course.." you trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him, to which he shook his head. 

"Right," he started, glancing at your very bloody leg, eyes roaming the rest of your body. "Well, perhaps I should have left you to it, you definitely seemed to have the upper hand."

"Fuck you," you spoke, and he raised his eyebrows suggestively at you, causing you to laugh slightly. Why, you didn't know. But you did, and he probably wouldn't ever let you forget it down the line. 

That was your relationship. Sarcastic comments and suggestive sentences. But, when it came down to it, there was a serious side for you both.

"C'mere. Let me help."

Crowley offered his hand, but you didn't take it, instead trying to get to your feet by using the old wooden crate outside as leverage. That was short lived, as you fell quite quickly, not being able to put pressure on your left leg. Crowley shook his head, and knelt down to you. He took your chin in his hand, making you look at him. He was beautiful. You'd always though it. You couldn't deny that fact, even knowing he was the literal King of Hell. There was still something beautiful about him. His eyes, his face, the way he seemed to care about you more than other humans. 

Snapping out of it, you brought yourself back to the present, where he was staring intently at you, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

"Take the help, darling."

You nodded, and he smiled. A genuine smile, not the smarmy one he had when Dean was acting up, or the shit-eating one he had when he pushed Sam too far. It was a proper smile, laced with concern. Crowley pushed himself to his feet, and picked you up, bridal style, carrying you to the bunker door. 

"You'll have to let me in, love, the boys don't trust me with a key," he asked, and you shot him a look. He playfully rolled his eyes. "Can't see why."

With a wink, he let you put the key in the door, but you didn't turn it.

"No funny business, yeah? Please behave." Your voice was quiet, serious. He nodded, knowing how much Dean and Sam would rag on you if he did anything... well, Crowley. 

"Promise, lovely, I'm just here to help you, no funny business."

So, you let him in.

True to his word, Crowley lay you down on the sofa and patched you up, taking care to clean and bandage your wounds properly. While he worked, you talked.

"Why did you save me? How did you know I was in trouble?"

Crowley didn't make eye contact, continuing to work, but a smirk grew across his face.

"Actually, to be honest, I didn't come here to save you. I didn't even know you were in danger. I was just here to bother moose and squirrel. I sensed the commotion outside and well, low and behold, I see you. I won't lie, I felt a bit of panic when I saw you."

You raised your eyebrows, shocked at his admission. Crowley never spoke about feelings unless necessary, or that one time he had to feel human feelings, so to hear that was strange.

"And well, I couldn't let you die, darling. I know you can handle yourself, I know that much. But I couldn't lose you."

"Crowley.." he brought a finger to your lips before you could continue.

"Shh, I know how that sounds. I have come to realise that I do care about you. Which is not the kind of confession you think you'd get from the King of Hell. But, you're different to all these other humans. You listen to me, you care. Good god, you nearly died saving my life barely two months ago. And I think.."

With all the might you had in you, no matter how much it hurt, you sat up and threw your body forward, landing in Crowley's arms. This silenced him then and there, and he wrapped his arms around you gently, not wanting to hurt you more. You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes again, and smiled. Leaning in, you brushed your lips with his and let him close the gap. To your surprise, he was gentle, the brush of his beard against your face felt nice. He held you by the waist as you sat in his lap, and when you both pulled away, he cradled your head against his chest.

"Next time, love, just tell me I'm boring you."

He chuckled, and you tapped him playfully. 

"If I had to shut you up every time you were boring, Crowley, you'd never be able to talk again."

He simply laughed, kissed the top of your head, and leaned back on the sofa. You felt heavy, the energy you had for the day had disappeared after the fight, but you knew if you fell asleep here, almost certainly Dean and Sam would be back eventually, and you would have so much explaining to do. But, despite that, as Crowley ran his fingers softly through your hair, you felt yourself drifting off in between his legs, content in your newfound relationship with the King of Rotten.

In the end, you were glad you took the help.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 1

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 1: The Good News Gabriel Brings

One minute, you were reading your very spicy romance book on your couch. The next, you were sitting in some diner off the highway, book still in hand. You looked around, wondering if anyone noticed you appear out of thin air. Not a single person was looking towards you. Okay, this must be a dream, I dozed off while reading, you thought. If I'm right, I won't be able to read words. You opened up to a random part in the book, and sure enough, you could read every single smutty word on that page. Fuck. What just happened?

"More coffee, sweetie?" The waitress pulled you from your downward spiral. You accepted, though you'd rather be drinking something a little stronger. You took a sip, letting the warmth fill you up. You looked down - you were no longer wearing your oversized sleep shirt. Instead, you were wearing skinny jeans, brown boots, and a gray tank top with a blue flannel layered on top. Very autumn lumberjack, you thought. It was much more appropriate than your sleep shirt though, given the dreary weather outside. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, surprised to find a signal. You were more surprised that you had your phone at all, and even more perplexed when you saw your purse sitting on the booth next to you. You peeked inside - thank god, your inhaler. You're gonna need that because the panic will surely set in soon. You scroll through your phone and find your messages are all gone. There's no logs of calls or contacts. Everything has been wiped. Great. You pull up the news to see if you can get your bearings a little. You weren't quite sure what else to do - after all, you've never teleported before.

You were too focused on your phone to notice a 1967 Chevy Impala pull up to the diner. Nor did you notice the two gigantic men walk through the front door as the bell jingled. But one of these men clocked you almost immediately. His face turned pale and he stopped in his tracks. "Holy shit," he breathed. The taller one looked at him like he was nuts, but before he could say anything else, the shorter (but still really tall) one found himself walking towards you. "Dude, what the hell?" His buddy was following him to your booth.

"Hey. Hi. Um, can I sit here?" Real smooth, dipshit, he thought to himself. You looked up at the man speaking to you, not really registering what he said. This man was a spitting image of Jensen Ackles. In fact, they could be twins. However the man standing in front of you had his flannel sleeves rolled up enough for you to see a tattoo sleeve and a myriad of scars peppering his skin. The man who appeared behind this man looked exactly like Jared Padalecki. "Am I being punked?" you asked. The two men look at each other and sit down in your booth, facing you. They look intrigued, waiting for you to keep talking.

"I wouldn't really say 'punked,' but I really had some fun with this one." A dude appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to you, looking like Richard Speight, Jr. Okay, what the actual fuck.

"Gabriel? What the fuck are you doing here?" the guy who looked like Jared asked. Okay, we got Sam, Dean, Gabriel...what's next? Cas? You look out the window to see the Impala and your stomach flips.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time for you bozos, so pay attention and don't interrupt. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean, this is Y/N. Yes, like the show Supernatural, I know, whoop-de-do, let's get to the juicy parts, alright?" Gabriel looks almost irritated with his little speech.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam's patience was wearing thin already.

"What did I say about interrupting? You're a bad listener. As I was saying, Y/N comes from another universe. Dean, I'm sure you're quite familiar. Y/N, you get the gist of it, but it's not exactly like the CW show. This is more real-life, nitty gritty, not at all rated PG-13. There's a lot of shit from the show that didn't happen in this universe. The writing really went to shit after Kripke left, but that's just my opinion. I digress. Y/N and Dean are soulmates, don't ask me how they ended up in different universes, I'm just here to fix it. So boom, problem solved, have fun figuring all this shit out." Gabriel acted bored but seemed to be amused by this situation.

Your head was spinning. Supernatural. Real life. Alternate universe. Soulmates? You stared down your coffee cup as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. It was hard when the entire time, you could feel Dean staring at you. He hasn't taken his eyes off you since he walked into the diner. You thought they were attractive on the show, but in real like they're so gorgeous, it's intimidating.

"Why would you do Dean a favor like that? What do you get out of it?" Sam asked. "Nothing from you ever comes out of the kindness of your heart."

"Listen bud, I just know what's gotta happen and I do it. Any other questions?"

"Hold on! You said parts of the TV show didn't happen in this universe. Which parts?" You had to know - Rowena, Crowley, Chuck, Leviathan - was all of this real now?

"Just the dumb parts. All of season 7 basically. That weird attachment Dean had with the Darkness even though she was a kid for a while, creepy if you ask me. The whole Darkness thing never happened, don't know if it will in the future though. The Men of Letters are alive and thriving, Sam and Dean actually work for them as hunters. I don't know kid I'm sure you'll figure it all out." His answer placated you for now. It was still too much for your brain to process. You're sure you'll have lots of questions come up as the day progresses. You turn to thank him, but he's already gone. That leaves you alone in a booth with Sam and Dean Winchester.

Chapter 2

[whinlatter]

In your opinion when did Ginny start drifting away from Dean? What was it that made her decide she didn’t want to be with him anymore? I know it can’t just be him helping her through the door because it’s such a small reason to break up with someone. Did she start to notice Harry noticing her? Or did the relationship run it’s course?

are you ready for an unhinged galaxy brain take from me

I actually think Ginny started to suspect something had changed in Harry's feelings for her not long after he himself realised, after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, early November. The scraps of evidence for this headcanon are few and far between but you can nonetheless prise them from my cold dead hands. Even before Harry himself realised he had feelings for Ginny, he was asking to hang out with her (on the train, in Hogsmeade) in ways that definitely would have seemed new. Then after the match itself:

'Laughing, Harry broke free of the rest of the team and hugged Ginny, but let go very quickly. Avoiding her gaze, he clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air and waving to their supporters.'

Ginny is a very good reader of Harry's emotions and responses at this point in the series. She seems to clock that Harry has just given her this very weird, out of character hug - weird both in that it's clearly very physically awkward and brief, but also weird in that Harry has given her a hug at all, when he's never initiated a hug with any other character before, let alone her. Then, this chat at the after party, immediately after Harry has just ditched a group of admiring (and extremely willing) girls flirting with him:

'“It looks like he’s eating her face, doesn’t it?” said Ginny dispassionately. “But I suppose he’s got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry.” She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.'

This is the first time Ginny touches Harry in the series. It's innocuous enough to anyone watching - Chaser pats Captain on the arm after a game - but given how unusual it is for Ginny to touch Harry, so soon after their previous strange interaction where Harry initiated touch with Ginny for the first time, I think we can see this interaction as Ginny testing her theory. (Tbh I think Harry's response to her here, including the fact that he literally doesn't even speak in front her lol, would give her even more reason for suspicion.)

I basically think Dean and Ginny are doomed after this. Not because I think Ginny would be like great Harry likes me time to break up with Dean - I think she's got months of pranging out about it ahead of her. But I think the stage is set for Ginny starting to actively compare Dean to Harry, and finding him wanting. Between the more morsels of evidence she gets in the following weeks (taking Luna to the ball, the maggot incident), and how miserable Ginny seems at the prospect of going back to Dean in the New Year, I think there's good reason to suspect she had clocked that Harry might, at long last, be returning feelings for her. (I tried to talk a bit about Ginny's view of Dean here).

I know a lot of fics and general fanon has Hermione working Harry's crush out first and pointing it out to Ginny, but I actually really don't buy this! There's no real proof of Hermione noticing Harry's changing feelings for Ginny until really late on. On the topic of Slughorn's party, she tells him to "just invite someone", and doesn't seem to suspect anything after he lies that there's no-one he wants to invite. I genuinely don't think Hermione knew until mid-March:

“Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it,” said Harry, still trying to sound casual. “Or are they still together?” “Yes, they are — but why are you so interested?” asked Hermione, giving Harry a sharp look. “I just don’t want my Quidditch team messed up again!” he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious, and he was most relieved when a voice behind them called, “Harry!” giving him an excuse to turn his back on her.

Of course, after this point, Hermione is in full super sleuth mode. To Hermione, Ginny's argument with Dean suddenly makes a lot more sense now she's realised that a) Harry likes Ginny and b) Ginny has already worked out Harry likes her and so is sabotaging her relationship with Dean. After Ginny and Dean break up while Harry is on Felix Felicis (subtle from HJP), Hermione knows for sure what's going on, and is deliciously smug and unsubtle about it in ways that makes me think if she had known before this, she would have let on. It's true that Harry is oblivious, but it's also true that Hermione has never passed up a chance to say I told you so (she's just like me fr)

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 1

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), OFC Tyler

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains unwanted kissing, if that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

Sorry for being gone for so long! Had a lot going on. This is going to be part one of a new series. I have no plan of when I am posting and I don't want to make promises I may not be able to keep. Thank you all for your support and love.

-Layla

____________________________

“And where are you off to this evening?” Dean asked me while sitting in the library. 

I went in there to grab my jacket. I figured he would be in his room or out at this point. 

“Going to meet up with a friend, you don’t know them.” I looked at him with a smile on my face. 

Ok, there is a good chance he is going to ask who, what, when, and where. He would never admit it but he was a little over protective of me as I was of him. He and Sam were the first people I had bonded with in forever when we had met two years ago. Sam was a loveable teddy bear, the big brother I had always dreamed of having. Dean….he was different. His cocky attitude, his smile, I knew I was doomed. I knew he would never see me as anything more than a friend so I hid my feelings deep down. I tried to find other ways to occupy my mind instead of dreaming of the perfect life with the older Winchester. That was hard. 

“How did you meet them and where are you going?” Dean didn’t look up from his book. 

“Well it’s a long story but we grew up in the same town and he knew I was living in Kansas now so he wanted to meet up. He’s in town on a business trip. I haven’t talked to anyone from there since I was 16 so I thought it might do me some good to see an old friend. We are meeting at the bar not too far from here but far enough.” I felt like I had to justify myself. Why does he make me nervous?

“Do you need me to go with you?” He finally looked at me. God those eyes. 

“No, I’m a big girl plus I have my knife in my purse if things go sideways which I highly doubt they will. He’s a good guy Dean, don't worry.” I grabbed my jacket and patted him on the shoulder. 

“Sweetheart I will always worry especially when I know you always try to see the good in people.” He went to stand.

I rolled my eyes. “I promise I will be careful, my location is on and you know I will leave if he tries anything.” I grabbed my purse and started heading to the door. 

He grabbed my arm. “Please be careful.” 

“You know I will.” I smiled at him.

_____________________________________________

I was waiting in the bar. I wasn’t nervous before but now I am. The fact that Dean was worried about me was nothing new but it gave me a weird feeling. Nothing bad of course, just a feeling that maybe he does care for me as more than a friend. 

My thinking was distracted when I heard my name called. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, Tyler! How are you?” I stood to give the man a hug.

“I’m doing great, damn you look good.” He winked at me. 

I smiled awkwardly, “Well thanks!” I moved to sit down again. 

“So how have you been?” Tyler asked.

“You know, same old same old, still same job nothing new going on really. What about you?” I suddenly felt nervous. 

“Oh nothing new with me either, hey do you want to get out of here we could drive around for a bit. It’s kinda loud in here.” Tyler moved to stand.

“I guess we can.” I moved to stand as well. 

It wasn’t until we were outside and getting into his car that I felt more nervous than I did before. He drove around and we talked for a bit. Then he pulled off into a field. 

My hunter senses were going off now. What is happening?

“Y/N” Tyler said. 

I looked at him, the next thing I knew he was kissing me. What the actual hell. 

“Please don’t” I said as I pushed him off of me. I got out of the car. 

“Woah hey where ya going?” He got out after me. 

“Listen I don’t know if I gave you the wrong impression or something but I was not ok with that. I thought we were friends?” I asked. I was holding it together fairly well and trying not to cry. 

“Well I just figured since we have known each other for a while now and you were kinda flirty in some of our messages this is where we were headed.” He smiled at me. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression but that was not my intention. I would really like it if you could take me back to my car now.” I hugged my jacket together around me. 

“I’m sorry for doing that. I figured it would be no big deal to you.” He moved closer to me. 

I backed up. 

“It was. You can go, I’ll walk to the road and call an uber.” I am scared now. 

“Y/N please I’m sorry, let’s just talk about this.” 

“It’s ok, just please go ok? I’ll message you later.” I started walking towards the road. 

He got in his car and peeled out of there. Thank the Lord he left.

 Oh God, what happened? How could I be so stupid? Dean is going to be pissed at me.

I pulled my phone out of my purse. Dean had texted me. 

Dean: 

Why are you in a field?

Are you ok?

I’m on my way.

I sat down to wait. I never expected that to happen….

_____________________________________________

I had been sitting there for around five minutes when I heard the roar of Baby.

My head was down when he got out of the car. 

“Sweetheart?” Dean approached me slowly.

He knelt down to me. “Hey, what happened?”

I  broke. I leapt into his arms and began to sob. I am such an idiot. 

I looked up at him, “I’m so sorry.” I continued to cry.

“Hey hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Look at me Y/N.” 

I looked at him. He had tears in his eyes.

“Let’s go home ok?” He stood back up. He reached his arm out to help me stand. 

We drove back to the bunker in silence. He held my hand the whole time. I had stopped crying at this point and went into auto pilot mode. 

We walked into the bunker. “How about you go get changed and I’ll meet you in my room, ok?” 

I nodded at him.

I went down the hallway and to the bathroom. I decided a shower was a good idea to wash away the shame I had. What girl doesn’t realize when a guy is going to come onto her, what girl freaks out when a guy kisses her. I guess this girl. 

I was drying off when I heard a knock on the bathroom door. I heard Dean speak “Hey I left your pj’s and stuff out here. I’ll head to my room while you get changed.” 

He was being sweet. Of course he was. He knew I needed him right now. How he could always tell, I don’t know how. 

I got changed then headed to his room. He was sitting on his bed, he moved over when he saw me and opened his arms. 

I laid down and let him hold me. I began to cry again. 

“He kissed me Dean.” I cried into his chest. 

He knew why I had issues, we had discussed that before. 

“It’s ok sweetheart, I’m here.” He kissed my head.

“I just don’t understand, we were friends, we had never discussed anything more. Hell, I've only talked to him for a few months now. I should have known better when he wanted to meet up randomly. God I’m an idiot.”

“You are not an idiot Y/N. You didn’t know. He’s the one at fault, not you.” 

“Who freaks out over someone kissing them, that’s not normal!” I looked up at him. 

“Y/N, it shocked you. You weren’t expecting it and he should have asked in my opinion. Especially if there was no hint of the night going in that direction.”

“I’m just crazy. No one is ever going to love me and at this point I don’t even know if I could handle it. I’m a mess.” 

“You are not crazy! Don’t say that about yourself. You are going to find the guy of your dreams some day, someone who takes it one day at a time on your terms, I promise. And if you are a mess, what am I?” He looked down at me. 

“You are my amazing best friend. I should have taken your talk as a hint of how the night was going to go.” I sighed. 

“You didn’t know sweetheart, and like I said you always try to see the good in people even when I don’t think you should. I was so worried. Especially when I saw you were in some random ass field. That guy is an ass and I would like to punch the son of a bitch in the face. I’m just thankful he didn’t try to do anything more. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N.” 

“I know Dean and I’m sorry. I am going to look into talking to a counselor. I think that could help. Thank you for coming, for saving me.” I sat up and kissed his cheek. 

He looked at me. Really looked at me. There it was, that feeling. The feeling of being scared about how much I cared about him. What scared me even more was how much I needed him. 

“I will always save you sweetheart, always.”

[valleydean]

Chapter 3 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

When Castiel and Dean arrived at Winchester Gym at 5 o’clock that morning, they had the entire place to themselves. It was too early for the sun to be up, much less the boxers—even those usually keen on getting an early morning workout. The familiar mechanical buzz of the auto repair garage downstairs was also absent.

Dean’s grunts of exertion were the only noises that filled up the brick and concrete room.

It was 7 AM now, and Castiel already had two cups of instant coffee. He was contemplating a third, even if it tasted like sludge. He loathed being out of bed so early, but he’d promised to help Dean train—and mornings were the only times that were feasible.

He tossed the brown leather medicine ball toward Dean, seated on the mat. Dean caught it at his chest, rolled backward onto his spine with his knees tucked, and tossed the ball to Castiel when he rolled forward again. Castiel threw the ball again to repeat the process. Dean shot him an annoyed glare and threw the ball at Castiel with a little more force than necessary.

Dean had sweat dripping from the ends of his hair and the tip of his nose. It darkened the fabric of his favorite sleeveless Everlast sweatshirt around the neck and armpits and created patches on his gray joggers. His cheeks were flushed red in the light of the rising sun pouring honey-gold through the factory-style windows.

Castiel took a step backward and, as he tossed the ball, instructed, “All the way up.”

Dean groaned while he rolled. “You’re killin’ me, man,” he huffed. That time, instead of staying in a seated position, he jumped to his feet and threw the ball to Castiel.

“You asked me to kill you,” Castiel reminded him, returning the ball. He watched Dean catch it and control his backward fall to the mat to roll again. “I believe those were your exact words. ‘I want you to kill me.’”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Dean barked breathlessly when he was back on his feet.

Castiel caught the ball and frowned at him. He stepped backward again. When Dean was once more upright, he advanced forward, minding his footwork with a step and a drag. Instead of a punch, he threw the ball.

Castiel pushed Dean through a few more repeats before holding the ball to his chest and saying, “Drop.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath and dropped into pushups and shoulder taps. Castiel circled him, counting forty repetitions before telling Dean to stop. Dean let his arms collapse under him. He rolled over onto the mat and stared up at the rafters. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath.

Meanwhile, Castiel returned the medicine ball to the racks that held the weights. “That’s enough for today.”

“Good,” Dean complained. “I already feel like I did a day’s worth’a training. Now, I gotta do my actual day’s training!” He brought one knee up to his chest and wrapped his hands around it, pulling. Castiel knew that meant his lower back and hips were bothering him. Dean always did have tight hips—likely because he didn’t stretch them enough. Castiel made a mental note to add more stretching to the regimen.

“Michael really makes you do this crap all day? We were supposed to box!”

Castiel rolled his eyes. Dean was acting like he’d never done conditioning before. Kneeling down between Dean’s legs, he grabbed Dean’s knee and gently pressed it to the side to open up his hip. Dean winced. “You already know how to box, Dean. I don’t have to teach you that.”

“You can teach me to be fast,” Dean said.

“You’re fast enough.”

“Not like you!”

Castiel raised a brow down at him before stretching Dean’s other side out. “I won’t change your style. You’ve gotten this far playing to your strengths.”

Dean grunted like it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, even though he must have known Castiel was right. He mused, “Well, at least you didn’t make me jog.” Castiel couldn’t help but laugh lightly at that.

He let go of Dean’s leg, and Dean pushed himself up with his elbows.

“People are gonna start getting here soon,” Dean said.

Castiel realized the sounds of the workmen in the garage below had started up. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have a little time… but I can go, if you prefer that.”

“Nah, I need a break,” Dean told him. “I’ll drive you to Garrison. We can get breakfast on the way. I feel like a bagel.”

Castiel tilted his head, bemused as ever at Dean’s unfailing appetite. “You want something that dense after what you just did?”

Dean grinned. “Hell, yeah! I need the carbs. Ooh, and some lox. There’s the protein. Extra onions.”

“You need to watch what you eat,” Castiel advised.

Dean scoffed as if it was a ridiculous notion. “You’re not gonna put me on a nutrition plan, are you?” He always mocked Castiel whenever Michael made him follow one in the weeks leading up a fight.

Just to get a rise out of him, Castiel said, “That isn’t a bad idea.”

Dean’s eyes flashed with fear. “Don’t even think about it!”

Castiel chuckled and leaned over him, his hands on the mat on either side of Dean’s slender waist.

“I mean it, Cas! I’ll kill you!” Dean continued. Castiel caught his mouth in a kiss. Dean hummed and cupped his hands to the back of Castiel’s head. He rocked backward, dragging Castiel down on top of him. Castiel teased his fingers through Dean’s sweat-damp hair.

[klbwriting]

Our Strange Duet

Chapter 9 - Seen What Was To Pass

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: YN gets into Maroni's office and finds out more than she bargained for

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @amberpanda99

I should have seen what came to pass I should have known to watch my ass - The Producers

Dick, Jason, Barbara, and YN spent the weekend coming up with a plan for the aftermath of taking Maroni’s data. They would obviously take it to the cops but there was the overarching problem of how Batman would react. Jason had promised not to kill Maroni unless he threatened YN, then he was dead. YN wondered if that should scare her, but instead she felt protected, safe. Jason wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her, ever, and she loved him for that. They finally just conceded that they would let the cops handle it and if Batman came knocking, they would worry about that when it happened.

On Monday evening YN got herself ready, Jason waiting to drive her over to the Maroni building in New Gotham. He paced the front entrance, not really wanting her to do this. It was dangerous, and he couldn’t just fly in as Red Hood to protect her. He needed to drop her off and let Dick handle anything that went wrong, but he hated that. Dick didn’t care about YN like he did, what if he chose the data over her life? He felt her hand on his arm, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Are you ok?” she asked. He looked at her and nodded. “You’re lying, but you know that this will work, everything will be fine.” She smiled at him, and he took a breath to calm himself.

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” he said, taking her hand. He drove her to the Maroni headquarters, an unassuming three-story apartment building, and she walked in like she owned the place. Which, considering who her father was, she almost did. Jason pulled the car around to a back alley, waiting for her to come out.

YN headed towards her father’s office. She knocked, knowing that if she just entered it would be suspicious, so she knocked and waited. Sal opened the door and got his sleezy smile that he always did when he saw her, like he knew something she didn’t. He moved so she could enter the room, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. She sat down and he sat on his desk in front of her, crowding her a little bit, just enough that it was obviously uncomfortable for her.

“What brings you to my office little one?” he asked as if she were still a child and not in college. She smiled at him, trying to force herself to be at ease.

“I actually wanted to ask you about my mother,” she said. This was clearly not what he expected. Just for a few moments his smile fell, and he looked genuinely heartbroken, but then he masked it, the smile pinched now. “Just, I know you were married when you met her, why would you pursue her if you weren’t able to be there for her?”

“Did she ever tell you anything about me? About how we met?” he asked. She shook her head. In truth this was something she was curious about, something she had been avoiding asking about, afraid of what the answer might be. “Your mother was a singer at one of my clubs and she had the voice of, not an angel, something better. Probably where you get that entertainment talent you have from. I found myself going to see her perform every night, pretending to be someone else. She didn’t know my real name for a long time, I finally had to tell her because my wife found out about my dalliance. By then I guess you were already made, still cooking so to speak, but it didn’t matter. Your mother was the star of the show, she wasn’t going to be letting me make her into a secondary character in my life, so she told me to take a hike and never talk to her again. So, I did. Then I found out about you and well, she may hate me, but you were what she loved, so she let me help pay for your schooling at least. Wanted you to have a good life, something I ruined for her.”

“I know, I was the reason she couldn’t make it big, can’t cart a toddler around to auditions,” YN said. She would never stop feeling guilty about that. Sal shook his head.

“Nah, little one, you were her greatest joy. She only talked to me once after I started paying for you and she told me that no stage could compare to being your mom,” he said. For a moment YN actually felt something like kinship for Sal, wondering what else he could tell her about her mom from before she was born. It was clear that she had been special to him, not some fling, not a mistake. The only mistake was her. She looked up when a call came in for him, probably Dick with the distraction. He answered, said a few hushed words and then stood.

“Do you need me to leave?” she asked. He looked at her for a moment before shaking his head.

“No little one, I’ll be back in a few minutes, we can continue this talk,” he said. He patted her head before heading out of the room. YN stood to begin her action. She went to the computer, inserting the drive from Barbara. It broke through the local firewalls and passwords and started downloading everything on his hard drive. While that worked YN looked for the harmless evidence that she could appear to be trying to steal, something to make him think she was clumsy. She opened a desk drawer and found a ledger, grabbing it, and then removing the drive from the computer. She shoved it into her inner jacket pocket, turning off the computer and riffling through the desk more.

The door opened and Sal came in, seeing her in the desk. He glared and stomped over to her, grabbing her arm and yanking the ledger from her grip. He tossed her towards the door, causing her to tumble. She made sure the drive was still in her pocket before she stood again to face him.

“Did you think you would get one over on me? Maybe give this ledger to your little boyfriend Red Hood? Or should I call him Jason, what do you call him?” he asked. YN’s breath left her lungs and she stared. That was definitely not part of the plan.

“Wha…what?” she stammered. He smirked, face full of malice now.

“You’re not the only one with masked friends and that Jason really pissed someone off,” he said. “Now, I’m going to let you go, considering I have what you were stealing, and you are still my daughter, maybe you’ll come around someday, but tell your boyfriend that if he ever wants a meeting, he can have one, I would love to see how his head looks on my mantle.”

YN walked from the room quickly, getting to the back alley that Jason was waiting in. She looked at him, face white.

“What happened?” he asked. “We had comms until you went into the office, then you were gone.” She shook her head.

“He knows…he knows who you are…Red Hood and me and you…” she said, brain scrambling to figure out how he found out. “He said he had masked friends too. That might have been a lie…he might know because of me…” She looked at him again and saw him staring straight ahead, face blank. “Jason?” He started driving. “I’m sorry, if I did this, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do this,” he said, voice barely audible. “You get what we came for?” He was all business, he needed to be, or else he was going to drive right to Wayne manor and pop Bruce full of bullets. He pushed that traitorous scumbag to the back of his mind. Right now, he needed to get YN home, find out what information was on this drive, get it to the police, and then he was going to reload his guns.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Ask Jeeves: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Bobby's presence is requested at someone's funeral/will reading. Since he's not here to go, his next of kin will have to do, i.e. you. Sam and Dean make you go thinking they are going to win big. You get something else instead, something deadlier.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

You four split up in search of this shifter with Olivia going with Sam and you with Dean. There are rooms in the back of the house that haven't been explored yet, so you go to them first. The first two rooms didn't have anything or anyone inside, but the third one did. As soon as you entered, you heard someone or something inside the closet make a noise. Dean looks at you before grabbing a silver candlestick as if that is going to do any damage.

You roll your eyes and open the closet door to reveal Dash and Amber making out. They gasp and break apart from each other.

"Really?"

"We can explain," Amber stutters.

"Let me guess. You two got bored last Christmas?"

"New Canaan clambake, actually. We were in line at the buffet and they ran out of steamers. One thing led to another, and..."

"We didn't kill Stanton," Amber shakes her head. "We may be guilty of cheating but not murder."

"Touch these."

Dean takes out his butterknife and holds it out to them.

"Why?"

"Do it or everyone knows you're fucking each other," you threaten.

They reluctantly reach up and touch the knives. Nothing happens.

"Did we pass?" Amber asks.

"Yeah. Don't worry, your secret is safe with us. Come on you two," Dean scoffs.

You four go back to the living room where Sam is sitting between Beverly and Heddy. He is getting touched everywhere except for his cock, but you know Beverly would love nothing more than to stick her hands down his pants. Ever since you lost your soul, you've seen people for who they truly are. You can see past the bullshit and the lies because you have nothing tying you to other people. Sam sees you and Dean and tries to get away even though both women try to get him to come back. You catcall whistle when Sam joins your side and smirk.

"Two women in one night? Better wrap it before you tap it," you chuckle.

"Should we come back when you're done?"

"Ladies, he's single," you say to the two women who giggle. "He really likes spanking."

"Shut up," Sam hisses at you. "They're clear.

"So is Dash and Amber who are a thing, by the way."

"That's everyone except for--"

A loud scream comes from upstairs no doubt from Olivia. Everyone rushes upstairs to see what she is screaming about, and she is leaning against the wall while pointing to the bathroom behind her. Inside is the detective with his head in the toilet, clearly dead. Everyone piles into the bathroom to get a closer look while you look at Olivia who looks so scared.

"Wow, you must be a really good actress."

"Excuse me?" she sniffles.

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter. I see right through you. You're not so innocent, are you?" You leave her to think about your words as you head inside the bathroom. "Why don't we just leave? He was the only thing holding us here and now he's dead. Let's just get in our cars and pretend this never happened."

"We're not going to do that," Dean glares.

"What kind of monster would do such a thing?" Heddy asks.

Everyone turns to look at Olivia, suspicious that she found the body.

"Don't look at me. I was just trying to pee."

"Okay, hold on, before we start pointing fingers--"

"Amber has a motive," Heddy cuts your husband off. "She killed the detective because she knew that it was just a matter of time before he figured out she killed Stan."

"Bravo Rizzoli! You solved the case. Want to weigh in too, Isles?" Dash asks Beverly sarcastically.

"I didn't kill Stanton or the detective. I have proof. My alibi is in the room."

"Wait for it," Dean whispers to his brother.

"Amber couldn't have killed the detective because she was with me. We're in love," Dash says and pulls her closer. "We're sleeping together."

"I knew it," Beverly gasps.

"Well, then you have motive too. You offed Stan because you were diddling his wife."

"Oh. The old lady doth protest too much. You're only pointing the finger to distract from your own guilt. You probably got Baby Jane to help," Dash accuses.

"I never!" Beverly gasps. "I'm leaving."

"Okay, hang on a minute," Dean steps in. He grabs Beverly's arm to prevent her from leaving. "First of all, who talks like that? Second of all, no one's leaving, okay?"

"Ohh, get your hands off me, young man," she smirks and runs her hands up his chest.

Before you know what you're doing, you grab Beverly's other arm and harshly yank her away from your husband.

"Keep your filthy hands to yourself or I will hurt you." Beverly backs up, clearly afraid of you, and Dean puts both hands on your shoulders to calm you down. "This house has a monster inside of it. Now, I am more than happy to leave and let it kill you or you can shut the fuck up and follow our rules. It's simple."

"As much as I don't agree with her tone, she's right," Sam backs you up. "We have four corpses now."

"Four?" Amber gasps.

"Yes. You can add Phillip and Colette to the list. We can't help you unless you stop arguing with one another. You need to trust us."

"Trust you?" Dash says, getting in Dean's face. You step forward so that you're blocking him from getting any closer to him. "Uh, we don't even know you. I'm trying to be objective here but we've had countless family functions before, and even though we wanted to kill one another, we never did."

"Dash is right. Our get-togethers never end in murder. The only thing different this time around is you three," Heddy says.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. First of all, whatever you're suggesting--"

Dash spots the detective's gun and grabs it before pointing it at you, Sam, and Dean.

"You three! Let's go."

You smirk and walk right up to the barrel of the gun and push your forehead into it. 

"Do it. Shoot me."

Dash stares at you for a few seconds before cocking the gun to show he means business. Dean jumps in and pulls you away from the gun because he's scared Dash might actually shoot you.

"Come on, let's go." Dean drags you with him out of the bathroom with Sam following. Dash points to a door with his gun and Dean opens it to reveal a small closet. You three walk inside with the gun still pointed at you. The closet looks like a small office fit with a couple of desks, a bunch of boxes, and other office supplies. "Sit tight until the cops get here."

"You don't want to do this. We are your best shot at making it out of here alive. We're not the bad guys, Dash."

"I beg to differ. You're wearing flannel."

Dash quickly leaves, shuts the door, and locks it. Dean tries to open it even though he knows Dash locked the door. Sam starts looking through the desk for a pair of keys that might open the door. Dean takes out his butterknife and tries to jimmy the lock open the old-fashioned way.

"Hey, I found keys."

"It's locked from the outside."

"Are you kidding me? Great," Sam scoffs.

Dean takes out the knife when he realizes it's no use only to see that the knife is bent.

"Made in Taiwan. Fucking stainless steel."

"That's why no one sizzled? They're not even real silver?"

"First cubic zirconium and now this. No wonder the rich stay rich. How are we gonna kill this thing?" Dean asks.

"There are silver bullets in the trunk," you shrug.

"Yeah, assuming we ever make it out of this place."

"This is why I never wanted to come in the first place, but no. You wanted beer money as if you can't buy some of it. Give me a break," you scoff.

Dean and Sam search the room for a way out of here when Dean looks at you in thought.

"So, why did you treat Beverly like that? Jealous she had her hands on me? Jealousy is an emotion, you know."

"Oh, please," you roll your eyes. "I couldn't care less that she wanted to take a peek at what's in your pants. If she did, then I'd hear you gloat about it and that is torture in and of itself. I saved myself from that pain." 

Sam looks over at four small security monitors in the back and pales at what he sees.

"Uh, guys? You need to see this." You and Dean walk over to Sam to look at the monitors. One of them is in the living room where the rest of the family is, and Olivia has the detective gun in her hands. You knew something was up with her. "I fucking knew it."

Dean has to get out of here or else people are going to die. He prepares himself and runs at the door with his shoulder out so that when he hits it, his shoulder takes the impact. He thought he was going to bust down the door with his shoulder. How cute.

"Damn."

"Hey, there is a gun safe," Sam says. The keys he found earlier are still in his hands, and he looks at them in thought. "They're probably for this."

Sam opens the gun safe and sees firearms inside but the question still is, how are you going to get out of here? You turn to the door Dean rammed his shoulder in and use enough force behind your kick.

"It's not going to work," Dean says.

If there is one thing you hate with or without your soul is someone telling you what you can and can't do. You deliver three more kicks to the door before it busts wide open and you turn to Dean with a smirk.

"You were saying?"

"Come on."

Sam hands you one of the guns before leaving the room with his own trained in front of him. The others must have heard the noise you made when you opened the door which means Olivia did, too. Sam walks into the living room first where she is waiting and she shoots at him before running off.

"Stay here!" Sam says and follows after her.

"Wait, Dean," you whisper and grab his arm, "the only thing that is going to kill her is the silver bullets in the trunk."

"Come on."

You and Dean sneak out of the house while Sam keeps her busy. To leave would be so easy right now but Dean has to be the hero and save everyone he can. You two toss those guns to the side so you can use your own that are already filled with silver bullets. Once you're done, you head back inside and look for Sam and Olivia. The kitchen is right next to the front door which is why you can hear their voices inside. Two doors lead into the kitchen so you and Dean go through the back to avoid being spotted. You sneak inside and see her standing in front of Sam who is on the ground. Both of them have guns. Only one will be killed by it.

"That choice was made for me a long time ago. Why haven't you taken a shot? Oh, you don't have any silver bullets, do you?"

"No, but he does," you say from behind her.

Dean shoots her once in the chest and watches as she crumbles to the ground. You raise your gun and shoot her already dead body. It's like the both of you are in a trance because you both fire the guns one by one, littering her body with bullets long after she is dead. Sam jumps from the sounds but can only watch in horror at what you two do.

After everything is all said and done, the police are called to come to the active crime scene. Everyone is going to be questioned by the police, but you're going to get the hell out of there before they can show up. You're about to leave when Dash stops you.

"Guys? The police are on the way. What a mess. I owe you three an apology."

"Don't sweat it. I mean, you were just protecting your family and there's nothing wrong with that," Sam says, sneaking a quick glance at you and Dean.

"So, I spoke to Aunt Bunny's attorney. He said outside of the pendant, everything was left to Olivia."

"You know what? Speaking of, you should keep it." Dean takes out the necklace and hands it over. "It's a key to the attic."

"Bobby must have really meant something to Aunt Bunny. How can we repay you?"

"Forget we were ever here," you answer.

"No, you saved our lives. I want everyone to know what heroes you three are."

"Heroes," you scoff.

"Look pal, the fact that we pulled your bacon out of the fire is nobody's business. Okay?" Dash still looks uncertain. "I'm serious. Put a pin in it or we'll come back for your preppy ass."

Dash nods in understanding and returns to his family, and you three get the hell out of dodge. Sam and Dean are up front so you can stretch your legs in the back.

"So, what was that about back there?" Sam asks once Dean pulls onto the freeway.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all those extra shots after the shifter was already dead. What was that?"

"Target practice?"

"I'm being serious. Are you sure it wasn't, I don't know, demon residue or something to do with the Mark?"

"No, none of that."

"I gotta be honest--"

"Oh my God, Sam. It was my first kill since I've been back. I got a little anxious. I wanted to make sure it was done right--plain and simple. Why am I even explaining this to you?"

Dean is done talking about this but you're not. You know how to fuck with Sam's head so you scooch closer to him so you don't have to shout over the music Dean is blaring.

"Sam, the Mark is responsible for a lot of things. You should be worried about us because this is only the beginning. First, we kill Olivia and before you know it, it'll be you. Stay out of our way and we won't have a problem."

Sam turns and looks at you but you're already lying down in the back seat.

x

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[sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette]

Desolate

There is no heterosexual explanation for the many stolen glances between Dean and Cas over the course of 11 seasons, so this piece is me dipping my toes into Destiel territory. This is a season 15 fix-it. This is angsty with mentions of death and mourning. I'm thinking of having this be the set-up for an actual story but I want to see if people are interested!

Pairing: Dean x Cas

TW: death, loss, violence (Dean punches Sammy), grief

If you would like me to continue this please let me know in the comments!!

It happened 7 days after they’d defeated Chuck and Jack was assimilating into his new role. God. Capital G-O-D. His surrogate son was God and even though Dean knew that Jack would make a better god than Chuck ever had, he’d miss him. It seemed like that’s all he was going to be doing for the rest of his life, missing Jack.

Missing Cas.

He fucking hates himself for not saying it back. It would have been so easy; it’s been weighing heavy on his heart for years. I love you too. But what he’d said instead was “Don’t do this, Cas” and he will never be able to forgive himself. The first time he’d almost told Cas he loved him had been years ago, at the crypt, when Naomi was controlling Cas and he’d nearly killed Dean. Beaten, bloodied and on his knees, he’d almost said it. I love you, Cas. But instead, he said “I need you, Cas.” Both were true but Cas didn’t truly understand just how much Dean needed him. He can’t blame anyone but himself, honestly, because how in the hell would Cas know he loved him? He buried his feeling under cheap booze and women, and he always made it clear that he wasn’t gay. Which, truly, Dean didn’t think of himself as gay; sure, he thought some men were attractive, but he’d never had the desire to be with a man the way he did with Cas, he didn’t gravitate around them and let himself be consumed by their orbit. Cas had been it; he was the one that made Dean feel like maybe love didn’t have a gender or an expiration date, but he was too fucking stubborn to let himself have it. He was too scared to love and to be loved. And now it’s too late. He’s alone. Cas is dead.

Sam knew but he didn’t, tried to help you he couldn’t. Sam saw the bags under his eyes and the number of empty, scattered bottles in Dean’s room was excessive, even for him. Sam knew Cas was his best friend and he knew he was mourning him in a way he never had when he died before. His death seemed so final this team that Dean didn’t dare hope that he might be able to come back. Sam tried cheering him up, he really did, hey you want to go for a drive? We can listen to Metallica’s entire discography or hey Meat Man, how about some burgers? had been the last two attempts made by Sammy, one this morning and the other at lunch. Sounds like fun, maybe some other time okay, Sammy? and I’m not hungry, maybe tomorrow? Had been his replies and Sam smiled, nodded, and let him be. So, there he was, wallowing in his bed, when Sam walked in a couple of hours later.

“Hey man, I’m heading out to get some groceries. We’re making burgers tonight.”

Dean was tired, so bone-achingly tired, so he didn’t argue.

“Sounds good, Sammy.”

As Sam was turning to leave Dean called out.

“Don’t forget the beer. Grab 2 packs.”

“No, I’m not grabbing any beer,” Sam said, turning back to look at him.

“Sam, stop, we always drink beer. This is no different.” Dean said sitting up in bed and looking his brother in the eyes.

“This is entirely different, Dean. This situation could not be further from anything we have ever experienced before. You are drinking yourself to death, man. You need to stop.”

“You don’t know what I need, Sam. Go and get the damn groceries and some fucking beer!” Dean yelled and Sam looked hurt, but he wouldn’t budge. Dean got up and walked slowly over to him until he was standing right in front of him.

“Do it or I’ll go myself, Sam.”

“Dean, stop,” Sam pleaded, looking down at him with tears in his eyes, “I know you miss him bu-“ the rest of Sam’s sentence went unfinished as Dean’s right fist connected with Sam’s jaw and he fell backwards out into the hallway.

Dean looks down at his brother and knows he should apologize. Help him get up and apologize, he told himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except tower over him. The rage felt warranted, and it made him feel alive for a second. Sam got to his feet and stared at his brother; there was no anger in his eyes and that made Dean want to punch him again.

“If punching me makes you feel better, then keep taking swings, Dean,” Sam’s voice didn’t waver, and it held no trace of resentment. Dean was sure Sam would let him beat him bloody if it meant he’d stop drinking and feel anything other than sadness over Cas. Dean considered it, he fucking considered continuing to beat the crap out his brother for no other reason other than he could, Sam told him he could, but there was a deafeningly loud boom and a subsequent clatter coming from the foyer than made them both immediately look down the hallway. Other than the noise, the red lights hadn’t come on and the alarm hadn’t gone off. What the hell was strong enough to break into the bunker without setting any of the warding off? Dean ran into his room, grabbed two guns and knives, and handed a pair to his brother. They walked side by side, eerily quiet, down to the foyer. Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest to stop him just before they turned the corner. Sam pointed to himself then signaled to the foyer in two quick motions. I’ll go first. Dean nodded and mouthed, I’ll cover you. As soon as Sam turned the corner, Dean saw a look of fear written all over his face, but he lowered his weapons anyway. What the hell was Sam looking at? Dean turned the corner behind Sam, gun pointed and knife ready, but the second he laid eyes on him, he felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

“Cas?” Sam whispered and Dean dropped his weapons in a clatter at his feet.

There he was, just as Dean remembered him from a week ago. The only differences were that this Cas wasn’t scared, he wasn’t crying, or making deathbed love declarations. He was standing in front of him and Sam, wearing his trademark trench coat and a slight ever-confused look in his eyes. Dean knew that they should check, throw salt, holy water, silver, and a battery of other tests but what he did instead was shove Sam out of the way and head straight to Cas. Dean threw his arms around Cas’ neck and buried his hands in his hair. He felt Cas hug him back, almost instinctively, but instead of the usual arms around the torso, he placed his hands at Dean’s waist and pulled him closer. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, he could hear Sam sniffling from behind them and it suddenly made him realize he was crying.

“Shh I’m here, Dean, it’s okay. I’m here” he heard Cas whisper in his ear and felt his hands rubbing circles into the small of his back and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever.

After a few seconds Dean pulled back slightly, finally looking into Cas’ blues and for a second he thought of all the things hidden in the color – sapphires, the ocean after tempest, the sky after a rainy day, Dean’s favorite toy car that his mom and dad had gifted him on his third birthday and that he still had hidden away in his nightstand – he kept his arms around Cas’ neck but asked the question he knew was also on Sam’s mind.

“How?” he breathed, and Cas smiled. He removed his left hand from Dean’s waist and plunged it into one of the many pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. Fighting against the part of his brain urging him to keep holding onto Cas because the universe was cruel and he might disappear if he let go, Dean dropped his arms from Cas’ neck, took the piece of paper, and walked back over to Sam who was looking at him expectantly. Once he was next to him, he held the note in front of them and opened it:

I’m hands off starting now.

- Love, Jack.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Fatherly Comfort

Summary - Part 10 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)

Warnings - slight angst, mentions of pregnancy

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. And remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy! 

Night falls and morning rises and Dean still hasn’t returned. You’re sitting in the kitchen alone sipping a cup of tea when Sam walks in half asleep. 

“Have you heard from Dean?”

“Sorry, Y/N, I haven’t. I thought he would’ve been back by now. He’s probably sleeping off a hangover in the Impala somewhere. I’m sure he’ll come home soon.”

“You don’t think he would’ve gone back to his old habits, do you? You don’t think he’s in some other woman’s bed right now? I mean, he said one-night stands are easier…”

“No, no, no way. Dean loves you, so much. No matter how upset or hurt, he would never. Just give him time, he’ll be back.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Sam pours himself a cup of coffee and makes his way into the library, leaving you alone again. You try Dean’s phone again but you just get the message bank. So you call Bobby instead. Much like how he’s the boy’s surrogate father, he had taken you in quickly too. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up? What have those Idjits done now?”

“Hey, Bobby, I need some advice, I don’t know what to do.”

“Was it Dean? Did he hurt you?”

“Honestly, I think it’s my fault. Do you think I could come stay with you for a while?”

“You know you’re always welcome here. I’ll make up the guest room and stock the fridge.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Anytime, kid.”

You go to your room and pack a bag, ensuring to slip in your knife and gun just in case. You stop by the library on your way to the garage.

“I can’t sit here and just wait for him to come back. I’m gonna go stay with Bobby for a few days, maybe he knows where Dean is. If he comes back here just tell him to call me.”

“That’s a six-hour trip, do you want me to come with you?”

“I need some time to myself. I have my silver knife and gun, I can handle myself.”

“Please, let me come with you. Dean will kill me if he finds out I let you out of here on your own.”

“I’m not a child, Sam. In fact, I am having one. I can look after myself,” you turn to walk out.

Sam follows you to the garage. “Fine. But call me whenever you stop and when you get to Bobby’s. I’m gonna be tracking your cell also.”

“I will. Thanks, Sam.”

He pulls you in for a brief hug. You pull away and hop into the bright red vintage car, tossing your bag on the back seat. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Around six hours later you drive into the Singer Salvage yard. You’re utterly exhausted. Bobby comes out to meet you, opening the door for you before spotting your bag and grabbing it off the back seat.

“You look exhausted, kid. Come on inside and have a drink.”

You’re so drained you just nod and follow him inside. He takes your bag upstairs to the guest room before joining you on the couch with two open beers. You take one but you don’t drink it, you just swap the bottle from hand to hand inspecting it.

“What this cheap stuff ain’t good enough for ya anymore? That boy been spoilin’ you?”

“No, I’ve actually just recently given up drinking.”

“A hunter that doesn’t drink? That’s new. He knocked you up, didn’t he?”

You don’t say anything. You put the beer on the side table and grab a cushion, pulling it close to your chest. Tears start to well up again as you take a deep breath.

“Aw, darlin’, does he know?”

You nod.

“Alright, then what are you doing on my couch?”

“I’m not sure if I should keep it.”

“And Dean?”

“We had a fight about it…I haven’t heard from him since. He has been nothing but supportive, he wants this baby so badly and I know I hurt him when I mentioned thinking about an abortion. 

He said that our relationship was a bad idea and that one-night stands are easier. I’m scared, Bobby. What if he-”

“I’ve known that boy since he was a kid, he’s loyal to a fault and he loves you. If I know that boy then he’s driving around trying to find a way to disperse all the evil from the world so you have no reason to doubt keeping this baby. Deep down this has always been his dream, and now that there’s a chance of it coming true he’s gotta be struggling. Then you go and say you want to take that dream away from him?”

“Yeah…”

“I also can see where you’re coming from. You’re scared, unsure of how you’re gonna protect your child. Unsure of whether Dean will be able to give all this up and live a normal life with you? Am I close?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, let me tell you something. Those are fears every expectant parent has. I may not have had the chance to have children of my own but you three are pretty close to it. And even without all the demons and spirits and ghouls, I’d still worry about you being safe. Parents worry about how to protect their children from getting sick or hurt. That’s completely normal.”

“So you’re saying for the first time in ages I’m experiencing something completely normal?”

“More or less. Listen, you’ll always worry about the safety of your child, regardless of demons and such, but at least they’ll be surrounded by family who will protect them with their lives and do everything they can to keep them safe from all of this and anything else that comes their way.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Aw hell, it’s getting late and I haven’t even fed you yet. What can I get you?”

“I’d love a pizza, but I think the bean would disagree. Just think of anything Sam would eat and get me that.”

“You got the morning sickness, huh?”

“Unfortunately…”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon. You know the drill, make yourself at home.”

After Bobby leaves you pull out your phone and try to call Dean again. You get the message bank again, but instead of hanging up, you leave a message. “Hey Dean, it’s me, I’m worried about you and I miss you. Please call me, we need to talk. I love you, and I love the idea of raising this baby together, you keep saying we’ll do this together and I believe you-” The beep cuts you off. You get up and go upstairs to shower.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You wake up to the smell of pancakes, so you get up and make your way downstairs. You find Bobby standing at the stove with his back to you. You spot the orange juice on the table with two plates. 

“I didn’t realise you cooked.”

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Sorry, good morning, Bobby.”

“I don’t really not since, well you know. But it’s not every day a pregnant woman turns up on my doorstep. You need a fulfilling breakfast, you’re growing my grandbaby.”

“Your grandbaby, huh?”

“Family don’t end in blood, kid.”

“This baby is lucky to have such a caring and protective grandfather. Oh, and orange juice instead of whisky? It’s a weird look.”

“Shut up, ya idjit.”

“I love you too, Bobby. Thank you again for all of this.”

While you wait for Bobby to finish cooking you grab your phone to call Dean again, but you find it’s flat so you plug it in to charge. When it lights up you find 20 missed calls from Sam but none from Dean.

“Bobby, did Sam call you?”

“Yeah, I told him you were here. He said you promised to call. He was really worried about you.”

“I forgot to call him when I got here.”

You call Sam and apologise for not calling and scaring him. 

Over breakfast, you discuss the ongoing demon situation. And then you help with the dishes. As you’re drying up you hear an all too familiar purr of an engine. You turn to Bobby and say, “you called him?”

“Damn right I did. I need to set that idjit straight.”

“Did you tell him I was here?”

“No, but I bet he spotted that sweet red ride the second he drove in.”

“He’s gonna be so mad I left the bunker. I need more time! I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Hey, Bobby! Please tell me you picked up a car identical to one from the bunker!” you hear Dean call out. The sound of his voice makes you freeze.

Dean walks in without knocking but stops as soon as he sees you. You keep your eyes locked on the ground. You can feel his gaze on you. You start to tear up again, guilt filling your body.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[missjackil]

I agree with your assessment that they did talk about Mary's deal throughout season 12. And I agree that Sam would not have had screaming matches with her. I think the unsatisfying part of it is that she and Sam never had a DIRECT conversation about it. She talked to Dean about it but she never went to Sam and he never had a chance to actually talk about any of it. Telling her she didn't have to be afraid of him because he overheard a conversation and then not having any follow up was supremely frustrating to me. The whole show was practically based on this incident and the two main people involved NEVER directly talked about it.

And although I know your opinion about Mary and Sam's relationship during season 12, I think the frustrating part is that Sam was there as a sounding board once again and never actually contributed anything except some very limited comments in their first conversation. I don't know if they filmed anything and then cut it or what.

The only thing I will say that they got right was that the show acknowledged what they were doing with Mary. Mary herself acknowledged it. She was one craptastic Mother. But it doesn't mean that it wasn't irritating to watch. Just my opinion.

You're not wrong, it's unsatisfying that Sam himself didn't really address her deal, but I try to think of a way he could have and not be out of character, or did the writers think most of the issue was solved in Season 1, when in Home, she told Sam she was sorry, before he knew why?

We saw Sam with her in S5 and he was very sweet and loving, even tearful. By then only a season into knowing about the deal, he had no hard feelings. After that, really everything he went through like taking on Lucifer, the Trials and so on, where his own choices and he, unlike Dean, couldn't/wouldn't have laid the blame on her.

Ultimately, I personally would have been satisfied if the convo Sam overheard had been with him instead of Dean. (Not a dig on Dean folks) Have Sam tell her that the deal had led them to being ass kickers, and she admitting to him that she was afraid he can't forgive her. The "Mom, you don't have to be scared of me" would still being as touching and meaningful, and maybe more so.

I definitely don't think she was a good mother, I just don't think that whole story was as bad as people make it out to be. However, the reason I reblogged that post was simply because they seemed to have missed all the late season acknowledgements 🙃

[420technoblazeit]

Abt the jealousy of Cas, I don't think Cas is jealous of Crowley for who he is . because I do think he thinks he's better than him, but in a relationship yea I can see jealousy and possessiveness I mean he did sear deans skin and carved into his ribcage. If they did get together literally all of body will be marked.

So either it's one month with Crowley then the other month with him

But also I just can see Cas just waiting. Until he becomes the priority. And until then let's dean do his own thing and Cas does his.

i mean i agree that cas isnt jealous of crowley for who he is and you can have your own headcanons. cas is certainly a character who has a lot of pride especially in the earlier seasons but i think a lot of that is gone by the time the later seasons come around. i'd argue even after season 6 he has significantly less pride, though i guess you could argue season 8 cas still has a bit of it. i just dont think that there's canon basis for him being a very jealous person when we've already seen a situation where dean chose crowley over cas (the demon dean summer) and cas didn't seem to hold any grudge with crowley over it

remember that we do see a conversation between sam and cas in 10x01 about dean running away, and while sam seems to think that there's a demon running around in dean's body cas understands that dean himself made the choice to run away. sam seems to think that crowley might have forced dean to leave but cas dismisses that almost immediately and instead brings up whether or not dean's too far gone as a demon. there's a focus here on dean leaving being dean's choice

also here's a scene from 10x03 from when crowley first meets up with cas again and discusses curing dean. if cas, like sam, didn't understand just how much dean meant to crowley he would've left it at that thinking that crowley was just using dean as a guard dog. but he makes sure to point out here that dean might be too far gone because he knows that for crowley to have stuck with dean for that entire summer he must care about what happens to him

even much later in the season cas again asks crowley for help in curing dean, even after sam has tried to kill him, and i think it's because cas is maybe the only person who actually gets it. who understands what it's like to be an immortal being in love with a human as reckless and self-destructive as dean. and to sacrifice so much for him and not ask for anything in return. he knew that even with nothing in return crowley would help in getting rid of the mark because he knows how much it's hurting dean

and about the carved ribcage and handprint thing if we're being honest the whole possessive branding thing is like. entirely fanon. to my knowledge the show never explicitly mentions that as being a possessive thing, the fandom just thought it'd be cute to make it into that. we know that the warding's main function is to hide sam and dean from angels and that the handprint is a byproduct of cas dragging dean out of hell. it is by no means proof that cas is actually possessive of dean or would be upset about him being with someone else

idk i just think pretending that cas and crowley's relationship could ever boil down to just ohhhhh cas is jealous of crowley's thing with dean significantly flattens their relationship and gets rid of the most interesting thing about it, which is that basically the only thing they can ever agree on is loving dean. that's unironically their common ground in a significant number of issues. theyre an angel and a demon to begin with so theyre already about as different as you can get but when you really look at the core of who they are, theyre both beings who are too emotional and human for their own good and you can always see that best in how they interact with dean

[sacrificialsam]

What are your thoughts on parentified dean?

I hate when it veers into “dean is sams dad” territory cuz I think that’s silly (and not accurate to me anyway. I know the later seasons lean more into the dean as mom dad brother thing but I don’t think that dynamic fits with the earlier seasons and it does feel like they just wanted to give Dean more poor sufferer vibes which is something I don’t like. The ep with sonny’s farm is an especially bad example of this and I don’t think it fits with johns character in season 1 at alllllllll. In the pilot John has been gone for three weeks and dean is freaking out!!! At 26!!!!!!)

I think it fits when we talk about John and dean’s relationship. Dean spent a long time (until we see him go against John in season 1) coddling johns feeling and providing him with emotional support (and keeping him with him all the time. Again later seasons “dad would send me away sometimes” moments are ridiculous!!!)

i've talked about parentified dean a lot on this blog, but i'll give you a quick rundown of my basic opinions: while dean was clearly parentified by john when he was left alone to take care of sam, fandom constantly insists dean did way more for sam than is actually implied or even logical. i don't believe dean really thinks of sam as his son, and sam would never see dean as his dad. dean isn't and wouldn't be a good parent or parental figure, and saying sam's childhood was 'easy' because of dean's parenting is ignorant at best. additionally, i hate interpretations and headcanons of dean as a mother or maternal.

but to address your specific points, yeah they ramped up the woobification of dean a lot, and i also feel like dean's pity parties got worse and worse in later seasons. after a certain point john had to be vilified even more and act out of character to add onto this, and since preseries and the winchesters' childhoods aren't explored in complete detail a lot of rewriting could happen there. john was an absent father, but that doesn't mean he lost all contact with his family for months on end, as that's clearly a big cause of concern in the first season as you've pointed out. it honestly bothers me because i feel like the added victimization of dean's childhood is used to further the narrative of sam being spoiled and having it good in comparison; it's often played in a way that makes it look like dean was the only victim of john's subpar parenting because 'sam at least had dean' or something. and i want to point out i don't think sam was treated just like dean or was parentified in the same way, but he also had to grow up too fast and was negatively affected by it. and we also know dean added onto that by also wanting sam to stay a hunter instead of having a life away from direct danger, he wasn't the force of good to john's negative influence or anything.

with dean and john's relationship i think it's a bit complicated, john clearly used dean as a point of reassurance and support and did put too much stress on him, which he even apologizes for in his last moments. but i'm not sure if parentification is the right word for it, i don't think he was a parent stand-in for john, much more someone who could act as a right hand man, someone who would back him up (even against sam) and who could be relied on. i like the soldier or even the guard dog analogies a lot better than those saying dean was the other parent in their family dynamic, because i don't think dean ever fully moved out of the son category, he wasn't truly equal. and this is partially because john never let dean (or sam) disagree with his decisions, and dean very much idolized his father and wanted to follow his lead rather than have equal saying.

oh and i answered another ask about parentification before, if this wasn't a long enough read yet.