#castiel wins I adore him

[bi4bisamjess]

Sam and cas are stoners in their retirement. No they do not get up to antics they’d simply fall asleep in weird places and write shitty poetry.

[hornystiel]

chipped coin

1,6k, mature (i guess), early seasons destiel

so jackles and ida @chapeldean reminded me about the whole 'dean in cas' coat' thing and i wrote this in one go.

Dean’s rummaging in the pockets of the trench coat he’s currently borrowing from Cas in chance to find something like, you know, change, like what normal people are carrying with them in their pockets. 

Cas appears to be some kind of bird who likes shiny things, because his pockets have everything but the money Dean needs to buy himself a can of soda at 3 am from the vending machine outside of their motel room. Their room. 

Jesus, when did it become two rooms and not for Dean and Sam even, but for Dean and Cas, and Sam. Well, it’s not always like that, sometimes they still stay in one room because everything's packed and they don’t have any spare money or a working credit card with them. Except why the fuck Cas even needs to stay with them at night? And sleep in Dean’s bed. He’s a fucking angel, he doesn’t even need sleep. 

Not that Dean minds. Not really. 

Shiny rocks, a piece of glass (not sharp, thankfully), a cap from a beer Dean likes and tried to give to Cas a few times, some kind of a keychain in the shape of a cat? It’s cute though. Still no money.

Dean’s getting cold because he only slipped into Cas’ coat and currently wears only that, boots, and his batman boxers he managed to win from under Cas who was blissfully zoned out after fucking him into the creaky bed they share today. But once Dean took the coat and put it on, the look on Cas’ face became nothing but predatory. Dean’s sure if he lingered for a bit before leaving - they’d be having round two right now. 

Dean’s ass is still sensitive and he still feels, well, Cas’ come leaking out of him a bit. That should really be very gross, Dean’s sure he should feel gross. 

He doesn’t and that’s kind of concerning. 

He touches the bite mark on his neck and feels his cheeks heating up, even in the chilly parking lot. 

Castiel was intense the minute he appeared in Dean’s life, but Dean didn’t really think he would be so into marking him in every way possible. Although, the handprint on his shoulder should have given him some ideas. Dean coughs a little, trying to will his brain to stop translating the direct feed of Cas sucking hickeys on his hips half an hour before.

Right. He’s still thirsty, that was the reason he left the room in the first place. Not to contemplate. 

They are just fucking. Just fucking, just sharing a room, just talking for hours about everything and nothing, just grabbing a bite in shitty diners when Cas pops up out of nowhere right when Dean thinks it would be nice to make him try this new weird-looking pie and see that adorable frown make an appearance again, the apocalypse fuckery hanging somewhere in the background for once. 

Dean digs faster, in an attempt to overrun his own thoughts. How deep are those pockets? Finally something circle-shaped is in his hands and he brings it to the neon light to the left of him to see what it is. 

It’s the coin, a piece of it chipped a little, a tiny hole piercing it close to the ridge. 

Dean remembers this coin. 

He was boredly playing with all the change he had on him during their pitstop in one of the bars on their way to another state, Cas sitting on the opposite end of a small booth, looking ragged. Rebel angels have tough days. 

Dean noticed this coin and said Hey, look. This one is like you. Castiel squinted at the coin and mumbled Useless and broken? Dean huffed and went Not like the others and still kicking. 

He placed it in Cas’ hand and said that this one is for good luck. Castiel frowned but took it. 

Dean thought he threw it away or lost it a long time ago. But it’s still here. In Dean’s palm again. An angel who wields the destinies of the whole civilisations is carrying a chipped coin for good luck given to him by a hick human. 

Suddenly he isn’t really thirsty anymore. 

He puts everything back into the pockets and quickly goes back to their room. 

Cas is still sprawled on the bed (more and more human things in his arsenal, one day he’ll use this arsenal of adorable/annoying lethal quirks to kill Dean dead), but once Dean closes the door, he sits up and looks at Dean. 

Forget the pain in his ass, Dean wants to ride this ruffled creature into the sunset of a better future. 

“Dean, I advise you to take the coat off, because I’m not sure I can control myself when you are wearing it and I know you must be tired.”

“Aw, for a possessive bastard you’re such a gentleman.” Dean chuckles and without taking the trench coat off climbs on top of Cas’ naked thighs. “What, afraid you’ll fuck the Righteous Man too good he goes out of commission?” 

Castiel growls and tugs Dean closer, crushing their mouths together, hands roaming all over his body as if they were separated for a decade instead of thirty minutes tops. 

“It’s just…the more traces of me you have on yourself, the more I…” Cas hides his face in Dean’s shoulder, his movements slowing but not losing intensity, a hand crawling to the handprint, hidden under the coat. 

“Tell me.” Dean’s lost all of his brain cells on the way here, he wants to hear how much he breaks Cas’ restraint, he wants to know the moment Cas started thinking of this coat as a part of him, he wants to know whether it’s the first time Cas even feels this way and if so he doesn’t want to share this knowledge with anybody else. Man, they are both possessive as fuck. 

“I want to keep you to myself,” Cas whispers, unsure, and Dean moans, slowly grinding into him, starting to pull the coat off his shoulders, but Cas stops his hands. Holy fucking shit.  

“You were mine to rebuild, mine to bring back to life, mine to protect,” Cas lifts his gaze to Dean and strokes his jaw. “Now you’re mine to love.” 

If Dean ever wondered what the perfect example of “fuck around and find out” looks like in real life - well. He’s experiencing it now. 

“Shut up,” he tells Cas because he isn’t ready to start fucking crying during the most mindblowing kinky sex he isn’t even fully having right now. 

Cas opens his mouth to argue and probably tell him more insane shit that will rewire Dean’s mindframe forever and ever, so he shuts him up himself with kisses. After they’re finally done making out, Cas, the stubborn bastard, opens his mouth again.

“Was what I said wrong? You asked me to tell you.” 

“No, it’s just…” How can he even begin to explain everything that’s happening in his brain right now? That Cas just voiced Dean’s own feelings he’s too afraid to even start rationalizing in his own mind? Let alone talking about them. The thought that Cas doesn’t know what he’s talking about doesn’t even cross his mind. He knows they both feel the same and both are greatly inexperienced in just being in love. Cas being an angel, Dean being a hunter and both of them being fuckups. 

“You are thinking too much. I don’t require your answer, Dean, that’s not why I said it.” Cas touches his neck, shoulders, stomach, thighs. Feather-light strokes of his long fingers relax Dean gradually. “Just let me take care of you sometimes.”

 And Dean lets. 

The coat stays on, like a wall, shielding what they have from the rest of the world. Dean imagines that it’s Cas’ wings that envelop him and keep him safe. 

They take it slow this time, Dean rocking on top of Cas like he has all the time in the world, Cas’ hands are firm but still gentle, supporting him when he gets tired. He’s so beautiful underneath him, all black unruly hair, dark stubble and eyes only for Dean. 

Dean kisses him and kisses and kisses until his lips get numb and scratchy from all the licking and biting. 

Cas talks to him, quiet and intimate, and, dammit, Dean ends up crying after all. But he feels so, so much lighter, he feels like there’s light streaming from all the scars on his body. 

When they are cleaned up, Dean digs in the pockets of Cas’ coat again, Cas curiously watching from the bed, clad in boxers and Dean's t-shirt. Dean kinda gets why Cas jumped him when he walked in in his trench coat earlier. The t-shirt…is doing things to him too. 

He finds the coin again, takes it, threads a thick rope through the tiny hole in it and tugs the ends. Then goes to Cas and motions for him to bow his head. 

Cas looks puzzled for a second and then a tiny warm smile spreads on his face when he thumbs the improvised amulet on his neck. 

“Just uh. For it not to get lost in your giant ass pockets.” Dean’s scratching his head and fidgeting like a dumbass. 

“Thank you Dean,” Cas catches Dean’s restless hands in his and just holds them, “Thank you for taking care of it.” 

Thank you for taking care of me.

One day Dean will say it back outloud. 

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 16 - To Eternity (Lucifer's Ending)

Giving into her destiny, Y/N chooses to stay with her soulmate. One thing leads to another, and she learns exactly how the devil loves and what the rest of eternity with Lucifer holds.

(5k)

TW: this chapter contains smut

“It’s my choice, and I choose… Lucifer.”

Lucifer looks surprised for a moment but his demeanor quickly changes as his mouth twists into a cocky grin, his wings standing tall, all of his doubt washes away.

Dean and Sam stand in silence, staring at me with wide pleading eyes, looking as if their hearts have been ripped out of their chest and stomped on. 

Sam’s brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. He stares into the distance, eyes flicking back and forth as he replays the words over and over in his head.

Dean on the other hand stands still as a statue. The only movement is that of his jaw grinding and his fist tightening and loosening repeatedly, itching to punch something, or rather, someone. No matter how much he tries to remain stoic, seemingly unbothered, I can read him from a mile away and all that I see is grief and betrayal. 

Castiel stares down at his feet, shoulders slumped, looking disappointed, but not entirely surprised.

A pain radiates off of them in waves that set the room in an abysmal darkness.

I would give anything for the world to swallow me whole right now, put all this miserable business to rest. No matter how hard I try to do the right thing, I always manage to hurt someone I care about in the process. 

Maybe that’s just who I am, the girl that destroys everything she touches. Perhaps, Lucifer and I aren’t so different after all.

“Y/N, no,” Sam says in a stern voice, shaking his head in denial.

I avert his gaze, a burning feeling of guilt growing rapidly in my gut. I can feel his disappointing stare burning a hole through my head.

“This isn’t right,” Dean says, grabbing my arm in a desperate attempt to get to me. “Please just come home with me, it’s not too late to change your mind.” His eyes fill with tears ready to spill any moment. “Please,” he pleads, his breaths coming in heavy and uneven.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I place a soft kiss on his cheek, it tastes salty and metallic from the tears and blood that muddle together on his face. I take his hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze, longing to feel his touch one final time.

He closes his eyes, tears breaking free and streaming down his cheeks.

I can’t help the tears that begin to prick my eyes as well. I knew this moment was coming, but I didn’t know it would be so hard.

“I’m so incredibly thankful for our time together,” I say to him. “And everything you all have done for me.” I turn to look at Sam and Cas. 

They stare back at me somberly, Sam giving a curt nod, but quickly looking away in an attempt to keep his composure.

“Dean, I love you and I always will, but you have to let me go,” I say with a heavy heart, tenderly pulling my hand away.

He can’t find the words to say it, but with the look he gives me, I can see that he loves me too.

 I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Perhaps a bit of both.

I make my way back to Lucifer, looking up at his stunning crimson eyes.

He tilts his head and stares back at me with a look of pure adoration and love that I can feel deep inside me.

“Every moment of my life has led to you, and I'm done fighting it,” I admit. “I’m yours,” I whisper, placing my hand on his chest.

“I knew you’d  make the right choice, my beloved,” Lucifer coo’s. He wraps his silky wings around me and pulls me into a loving kiss, pulling away after a few seconds to give the others a look that says, ‘I win’.

“Sorry boys, the angels made her choice.” He gives them a cocky grin and snaps his fingers. 

The three of them are gone in the blink of an eye, leaving just Lucifer and I in the place we call home. The room is trashed from the fight. Shards of broken glass litter the floor, busted furniture strewn around the room, and splatters of blood painting the walls, a grizzly reminder of what had happened here tonight, a memory that will be burned into my mind for the rest of my eternal life.

“What did you do to them?” I snap at him in anger, tired of him hurting my boys.

“Relax, they’re fine,” he insists in a snarky tone. “They’re still in rural Ohio. We’re the ones who’ve moved.”

I make my way to the hole in the wall that once held our front door, it now sits splintered in pieces on the floor. 

Lucifer follows close behind. 

Stepping outside, I find myself on an empty beach, seemingly untouched by mankind, its natural beauty perfectly preserved. The golden sand sinks beneath my shoes, seashells and tumbled rocks sprinkled all around. The water is a stunning aqua blue with gentle waves of white foam lapping over the calm waters. The sun sets above it all, the reflection of the pinky orange skies painted over the water on the ocean, taking my breath away. This place brings me a sense of peace that makes me want to melt into it all, becoming one with the land.

“What is this place?” I ask, closing my eyes and breathing in the crisp salty air, listening to the waves crash and sea birds sing.

“Somewhere along the coast of South Africa,” he replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at me, seemingly not talking about the view at all.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, meeting his gaze with an adoring smile.

“I’m glad you like it, but it’s only temporary,” he replies, fixing his gaze on the setting sun upon the horizon. “I’ve got bigger plans for us.”

“Bigger plans?” I question, taking his hand in mine.

“Of course,” he says as if it’s obvious. “We have an eternity together, the world is our oyster,” he smiles.

“Right,” I nod my head, warming up to the idea of spending the rest of my life with Lucifer, my angel. “Where do we start?” I look at him quizzingly.

“How about here?” he says, pulling me close and crashing our lips together. It’s soft and tender. The electric feeling of our graces blend together, becoming as calm as the ocean waves.

He catches me off guard by sweeping me off my feet and carrying me bridal style. I don’t protest. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to carry me back to our bedroom with ease.

He throws me on the bed and passionately captures me in a kiss. His lips move hungrily against mine, our teeth, tongues, and lips hastily crashing against one another, but we’re too infatuated to care. His cold hand snakes up my body, leaving chills and goosebumps in their wake. It slides under the thin fabric of my shirt until he reaches my breast and tentatively palms me through my bra. 

My breath hitches at the feeling of his large hands kneading at my sensitive flesh.

 He presses his body firmly against mine, his aching erection in his jeans rubs against my inner thigh, so close to where I need him, yet, so far. His touch becomes more frenzied, trailing to other parts of my body with fervor. Frustrated with the multiple layers of clothes that separate us, he lets out a low growl and snaps his fingers, leaving us both completely naked and pressing against one another. The contrast of his cool skin against mine sends pleasant chills down my spine.

Despite his scruffy looks on the outside, he’s surprisingly muscular under all that clothes. The pale skin of his body perfectly compliments the gold and white tones of his feathers, making him look more ethereal than ever. 

 It’s my understanding that this isn’t his true form. That he’s simply occupying a human vessel. But there’s no doubt that the vessel he chose is certainly well endowed, to the extent it’s rather intimidating.

“L-lucifer!” I yelp, suddenly feeling all too exposed.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gives me a wicked smile and licks a long stripe up my neck with his forked tongue. 

I lean my head back into the pillow, my body aching with need and my worries fading to black. 

He finds a certain spot on the base of my neck that makes me whine from the sensitivity. He smirks. This is exactly what he was looking for. He bites down hard, his pointy teeth breaking my soft skin with ease.

“Fuck,” I hiss, trying to wiggle away from the sensation. My brain has gone offline, unsure whether it hurts too much or if it feels so good I crave more. Ultimately, I give into the latter, craning my neck to the side to give him better access.

He happily obliges, lightly kissing my neck around the bite where drops of crimson roll down to my collarbone. He peeks his forked tongue out of his teeth, then licks all of the blood that dribbles freely, cleaning my skin until all that is left behind is a pinky sheen from his saliva mixed with the remnants of my blood.

Part of me hopes that it will scar.

He lifts his head and captures my lips in a fiery kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. His cool tongue swirls around mine forcefully, pinning it down and proving who exactly is in charge here.

I moan as the rich metallic taste of blood dances across my tastebuds, a rush of exhilaration coursing through my veins. 

Once Lucifer is satisfied, he pulls back, his eyes falling to my puffy pink lips, still wet from the saliva of our tongues clashing together. He quickly makes his way down to my breasts, pulling at my nipples until they’re perky, leaving sloppy kisses and light bites on each one of them. He continues to work his way down until he reaches my thighs, masterfully kneading my flesh in his hands.

“Say the words and I’ll stop,” Lucifer says in full seriousness. “Or, submit to me and I’ll show you what it’s like to be taken by the most powerful archangel.” A smile tugs at his lips as he gazes at me with dark lustful eyes.

I return his gaze and give him a nod. “Please,” is all I can manage to say, my mind clouded with lust.

He wastes no time and wraps his forearms against my thighs, pulling me closer so that I may not wiggle away.

 I’m left totally and completely at his mercy.

He wets his lips with his long forked tongue, making me wetter at just the sight and dives in. 

I whine as his tongue slowly and lightly drags from just above my clit, all the way down to my aching hole, teasing my body ever so slightly. My hips involuntarily arch off the bed, desperate to feel more.

He doesn’t take kindly to my squirming and slams my hips down onto the mattress, pinning me in place with one of his strong forearms, the other wrapping around my neck and squeezing slightly. He’s very careful not to hurt me. If he wished too, he could snap my neck like a twig, right here, right now. Instead, he squeezes just light enough to restrict my oxygen and make my head go fuzzy, but still allow me to breathe.

His tongue runs circles over my clit, sending wave after wave of arousal to my core. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the satin sheets of our bed. Each split end of his tongue explores both sides of me at once, driving me crazy in ways I can’t explain, and he’s clearly enjoying the power he has over me, how he can make me into a mess with such ease.

“Luce, Luuuuuce,” I whine desperately, barely able to recognise my own voice. I squeeze down around nothing, my body craving to be filled by Lucifer in any way possible. I just need something.

Of course he picks up on this, exploiting our connection, and knows just what to do. His cold tingly grace creeps up sound my thighs and probes at my entrance.

My eyes snap open and meet his, glowing with passion.

He smirks and his grace slowly pushes into me inch by inch until I'm completely filled to the brim, rubbing against all the sensitive spots that make my mind go blank.

“Oh, fuck!” I yell, clamping down around the feeling, every nerve in my body tingling with pure pleasure and anticipation.

‘Shhh,” he coo’s, watching me intently like I'm some wounded animal in a nature documentary, and he’s the prey playing with his food before he strikes. He pulls his grace out slightly before thrusting back in, earning a deep moan from me. Experimentally, his graces pulses and thrusts in an unpredictable rhythm, leaving me completely unprepared for whatever pleasure he wishes to give me. His tongue returns to my clit, passionately swirling around sending shiver after shiver of arousal through my core.

“Luce, please! I’m gonna!” I moan, my body writhing beneath his tongue and grace. I teeter on the edge of orgasm as he takes my clit fully into his mouth and lightly sucks. “YES!” I scream, ready to let go at any second.

He pulls away with a devious smile before I’m able to fall over the edge.

“NO!” I plead with wide eyes, my body shaking in frustration as the most promising orgasm of my life was ripped away. 

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” he clicks his tongue in a mocking tone. “You’ve been a bad girl today, don’t you think? Running back to the Winchesters, putting yourself in danger,” he says in a voice that parodies concern.

“I’m- I’m sorry Luce, please!” I beg for his forgiveness, giving him the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

“Hmm…” he says, putting his finger up to his lip and looking at the ceiling, pretending to be lost in thought. “How about this, you be a good girl for me, you don’t cum without my permission, and i’ll think about letting you cum when i’m satisfied with you.”

Before I'm able to form words, he flips me over so that I'm on my knees and forearms, face pressed against the pillow, and my body on full display for him. His rough fingers trails between my wings, down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches my butt. 

I hum in appreciation, trying to show my agreement with the plan.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucifer taunts. He lands a hard smack on my ass, surely leaving a red handprint in its place.

“Yes Luce!” I squeak, trying to keep my body still for him.

“Good girl,” he praises, striking another smack on my other cheek.

I whimper in response, my eyes glazing over with tears of pain and pleasure.

He makes his way down to my pussy, spreading it open to really admire it. “Of all my fathers creations, you, my dear, are by far the most beautiful.”

My heart swoons at his words.

Once he’s had his share, he runs his fingers over my pussy, gathering up my slick. “All of this because of me, love?” he teases. “You really are a dirty girl.” He plunges two fingers deep inside me, twisting and thrusting perfectly.

A series of moans fall from my mouth that I barely even register. It’s like my mind has gone blank and my body is completely fuzzy in the most pleasant way. Nothing else matters right now. Just Lucifer. Just me. I’m easily able to hold myself from falling off the edge until he reaches a certain spot.

“Ah!” I cry out as his fingers brush against my G-spot ever so slightly. My hips buck against his fingers, my back arching, and my wings stretching out to their full extent. I don’t have to see him to know he has that signature smirk as he watches me moan and writhe from just his fingers.

He finds that angle again and rubs over the spongy spot repeatedly, each time applying more pressure.

I grip the sheets in my hands, my knuckles completely white from gripping it so hard. I clench my muscles and close my eyes, focusing with all of my strength not to come right then and there. “Fuck! I’m gonna!” I warn, trying desperately to fight back the feeling.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum without my permission,” he hisses, grabbing a fistfull of my hair and yanking my head back, his fingers picking up their pace.

Not wanting to feel the wrath of Satan from breaking his rules, I hold back, my whole body shaking with anticipation and overwhelming pleasure. 

After what feels like an eternity, he finally removes his fingers, leaving my walls clutching around nothing.

I whine, both frustrated that I didn’t get to cum and happy that I didn’t cum without his permission,

“Good girl,” he praises, running his fingers through my silky wings in a pleasurable way. “I think you’ve earned your reward.” 

Without even a warning, he flips me onto my back and slams into me, burying his cock all the way to the hilt.

“Oh God! Feels so good!” I cry out, savoring the pain and pleasure that his thick cock provides me..

“My father has nothing to do with this,” he growls, pulling out almost all the way. “This. is. all. me,” he says, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. “You will be praying to me from now on, do you understand?” His eyes glow red with passion and a drive for power.

“Yes, Lucifer! Anything for you,” I scream, thrusting my hips up to meet his with each stroke.

“You’re mine. All mine. A divine gift from Heaven just for me. My soulmate.” he growls, his pace picking up. 

I can feel my orgasm building as each stroke is angled just perfectly to rub against that amazing spot. My grace burns hotter and hotter by the second, reaching out to his cold one, desperate to feel them dance together once again.

He plays my body like a fine tuned instrument, and he’s putting on a symphony. 

“Yell my name, tell the world who you belong to, Y/N,” he demands with a particularly harsh stroke that sends shocks of electricity up my spine.

“LUCIFER! I BELONG TO YOU LUCIFER! NO ONE ELSE!” I scream, my throat dry from all the yelling and panting.

“Good girl,” he praises, bringing me into a passionate kiss. His grace tangles with mine, the perfect contrast in feeling bringing me to the edge, taking everything in me not to give myself over to the promising orgasm that calls my name. 

He’s close too, I can sense it.

“Cum for me beloved,” he says in a soft voice. He stares intently in my eyes, gripping my wings and twisting the feathers in the way he knows will drive me crazy.

The dam finally breaks and my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave that pulls me under the water, drowning me in pleasure. My grace explodes outward as he does the same. The lights flicker and the room shakes, both of our eyes glowing a dazzling red. Our grace’s coil together, the electric feeling buzzing from our head to toes. This time when it settles, it doesn’t feel like two separate entities. Instead, it’s like two ends of a wire touching to complete a circuit. it finally feels whole.

Collapsing on top of me, he rolls us to our side and pulls me against his chest, gently running his fingers through my wings. He cuddles me close, holding my head to his chest as we bathe in the afterglow. I listen to his heart beating, enjoying the hum of our graces in harmony, and match my breath to his steady breathing. Everything just feels so right. 

How could I ever deny him again? He completes me. We complete each other.

“Y/N?” he asks, pulling me out of my peaceful daze.

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he says in a calm but possessive voice. “Promise me that, beloved.” He wraps his wings around us like a protective cocoon, his soft feathers pleasantly grazing my bare skin.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I nuzzle my face into his chest, finding comfort in the warmth of his glowing skin. “I promise,” I assure him, closing my eyes in relaxation.

“Good,” he sighs, allowing himself to relax again.

“...I see through it all, you know,” I say, catching him slightly off guard in the sudden change of subject. “You pretend to be this evil wrathful archangel, but you’re not.”

He quietly scoffs at the notion.

“You’re just hurting. Everyone you've ever cared about has left you. Your father. Your brothers. But not me. Even the Devil deserves love. You deserve to be loved, Luce, and I'm going to be the first to show you that.”

He looks at me surprised, never having heard such kind words before. “I love you Y/N,” he says, pulling me closer.

“I love you too Luce.”

For a moment we both sit in comfortable silence. 

He stares at the ceiling, like he’s mustering up the courage to say something that’s heavy on his mind. He breaks the silence with a sigh. “I was going to give you more time to adjust, but I just can’t wait anymore.” His eyes meet mine, lighting up with anticipation. “Tomorrow we return to Hell where you will rule by my side.”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?” I snap, sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes, mouth falling agape.

“Well, I’m the King of Hell -new and improved- and naturally, that makes you my Queen,” he says in a tone way too nonchalant for the news he just dropped on me. He smiles, finding my reaction rather amusing.

I think for a moment, sitting in shock. The Queen of Hell? I’m just a girl. I don’t know the first thing about royalty, let alone ruling the forces of Hell. A thousand thoughts run across my mind at once. I ponder the idea for a moment before giving in.

“I accept.”

“Really?” He asks, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Under one condition.”

“Go on…” He says, eagerly waiting to see where I'm taking this.

“You have to stop hurting my people on earth, including the Winchesters. These are my people and I’m going to protect them for as long as I'm kicking.” I lift my head up with determination, ready to fight tooth and nail for my cause.

“A diplomat already? you’ll make a great leader,” he says with a cocky smile. He thinks for a moment and nods. “I accept.”

And with that it’s decided, for better or worse, tomorrow I become royalty.

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

“So this is Hell?” I ask skeptically, my eyes wandering as we make our way down the winding hall toward a set of large golden doors.

“Part of it, yes.” He walks with one hand in his pocket, the other around my arm.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

Lucifer glances at me with a cocked eyebrow. “And what exactly were you expecting?”

“I mean, where's all the fire and demons with pitchforks? Shouldn’t there be a lot more screaming?”

Lucifer laughs. “Bit outdated, don't you think?” He chuckles. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the theatrics of traditional torture, but there’s other ways to torment people. We like to keep it creative.” He flashes me crazy eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to the doors we’re rapidly approaching.

“Right…” I chuckle awkwardly, still a bit freaked out about being in Hell of all places. Compared to the demons and sinners that reside here, a goody two-shoes like me sticks out like a sore thumb. I can’t help but feel like an imposter.

“Here we are,” Lucifer says, stopping at the heavy golden doors. Two demons dressed in high end suits stand tall at the doors, holding it open for the both of us and averting their eyes out of respect, or maybe fear.

“Wow,” is all I can say as I enter the room. 

The walls go as far up as the eye can see, each section illuminated by stained glass windows with the depiction of Hell's greatest hits - many of which starring Lucifer himself, no doubt to please his ego. 

Red light pours through the windows, bathing the room below in a colorful wash of crimson. The walls and floor are made of black obsidian blocks, streaks of red marble decorating them like a battle of bloodshed had just occurred. 

Half a dozen demons stand post on either side of the room, so still that they could be mistaken for statues. 

And in the middle of it all is an intimidatingly large throne made of pure gold, sculpted to resemble an army of snakes standing high above the room.

“This is incredible, Luce,” I say, turning on my heels to look around in wonder.

“Oh, my love, this is just the beginning, I have so much to show you.”

My eyes light up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Buuut, we can start with this,” he motions to a section of the throne room that stands out from the rest.

Along the interior walls is an open room designed specifically for me. There are large bookshelves that tower at least 10 feet in the air with the library of books he had accumulated at the house, my favorite books organized in alphabetical order, as well as a large red velvet chair to read them in. 

Hundreds of records line the walls, each of them an album that I've enjoyed at one time or another, some that I'd even forgotten about, accompanied by an old fashioned record player playing a classic that I've listened to a hundred times over; “I came back to let you know, got a thing for you and I can’t let go.” I hum along to the music, swaying my hips ever so slightly as I explore the rest of the area.

Most surprisingly, is a shelf dedicated to hundreds of trinkets from throughout my life. The seashells I collected on my road trip through the west coast. A little clay bird I sculpted as a child and gifted to my mother. The floral porcelain teacup I drank out of religiously as I studied for finals. And even the diamond ring that’s been in my family for ages.

“How- how did you get all this?,” I ask, my eyes sweeping over everything, discovering new clever details and secrets.

“I have my ways,” he says ominously. “I knew you’d like it.” He smiles, puffing his wings out in pride. He takes my hand and guides me to the towering throne. He takes a seat, propping himself in a pose that demands respect, and pulls me onto his lap with ease.

I relax against him, resting my head on his shoulder and crossing my legs. I run my hand over his fingers, mindlessly toying with them as I find myself lost in thought.

“This is so much better with you here. It just feels right,” he says with a satisfied sigh, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his chest.

“Yeah, surprisingly, it does.” 

“Makes you wonder if this was God’s plan all along?” He smirks. “That old bastard finally did something right.”

“He does work in mysterious ways,” I chuckle, having that lesson slammed in my face over the past few months of my life. I snuggle into his chest with little care for what the demons may think, it would be a deathwish for them to even look my way without permission.

“This calls for a celebratory drink, don’t you think?” He winks. Putting his fingers up to his mouth, he whistles so loud that it leaves my ears ringing.

After a few moments a stocky man begrudgingly walks into the room carrying a tray of drinks. He has short dark hair and well groomed facial hair that suits his jaw nicely. He wears an all black suit with a gray tie and a look on his face that screams ‘I’d rather be anywhere but here’. He stops in front of the throne, squinting his eyes and sending Lucifer a glare that could kill, but he doesn’t dare step out of line.

Lucifer beckons with two fingers, motioning for the man to step closer and hand out the two fancy glasses of amber liquid.

He clenches his jaw, but reluctantly hands Lucifer his drink. His face is flushed a light shade of red, practically fuming with anger and humiliation. 

“Good puppy,” Lucifer snarks with a devious smile.

The man looks like he’s fighting the urge to strangle Lucifer with his bare hands but decides against it, as anyone who values their life would. He hands me my glass with less anger, looking more intrigued with me than anything. 

“Thank you…?” I give him a questioning look, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Crowley,” he states, straightening his posture and giving me an enchanting look. “At your service, my dear.” He takes my hand and lightly kisses the back of it. There’s a sort of charm to him I can’t explain.

I smile back politely, happy that I may have a new friend in this dreary place.

“That’s enough of that,” Lucifer sighs, and with the flick of his wrist the man goes flying across the room, hitting the wall with a loud smack. Blood drips from the back of his head, but it doesn’t seem to phase him much.

“Lucifer!” I scold him, lightly hitting him on the chest.

“Don’t mind him, he’s still in training.” He rolls his eyes and continues our conversation like he hadn’t just hurled someone across the room. 

“This is too us.” He lifts his glass in a toast. “To eternity.”

“To eternity,” I repeat, clinking our glasses together with a smile.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Tags: @roseblue373 @iprobablyshipit91 @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

[lovetransaction]

"girls write to ask who the little women marry, as if that was the only end and aim of a woman's life. i won't marry jo to laurie to please anyone." - louisa may alcott

"destiel doesn't exist." - jensen ackles

===

lazy clarence

"Dean and I do share a deeper bond." Castiel looked puzzled for a moment, like he couldn't understand why Sam would bring this up when it was clear, had been clear since the moment he'd first entered the Winchester boys' lives. He certainly felt he'd never done anything to hide his closeness with Dean, not through any of the capers they'd had together. Surely Sam knew that? Though from the prim, unmoved look on Sam's face as he continued carefully inscribing warding signals in watercolour on tiles, it wasn't something he enjoyed hearing.

"Right," Sam said, making a few delicate strokes with his paintbrush that even Castiel had to admit were beautifully done. "And he's the one who you turn to, when it comes to anything to do with your being not an angel anymore."

"If it helps," Castiel said helpfully, "his help isn't worth much. It's mostly symbolic. As in I request it mostly to make Dean feel like he has some authority in the area."

Sam stopped daubing for a moment. He had a small streak of cornflower blue paint just down one cheek, close to his nose. It was rather adorable, Castiel had to admit to himself. "What?" Sam said, his tone not much adorable at all. "Symbolic?"

"He's not the best at being human," Castiel said, apologetic and fond. "He bungles it constantly."

"That's my brother you're talking about," Sam said, looking truly put out now. "Whaddyou know about being human, anyhow? I've watched you these past few weeks. You're rude, you're demanding, and you make people uncomfortable when you start telling them about the personal failings of other religious beings if the subject ever comes up--"

"Bartholomew is the worst saint to appeal to for the home. He was notoriously derisive about his own place of origin. People should know that before sending him entreaties about their new open-plan concepts."

"--exactly what I'm saying." Sam finished his watercolour and glanced over at Samuel, who was surreptitiously keeping an eye on the proceedings from a discreet distance away. He turned his full attention to Castiel. "Dean can only give you so much advice about being human before you ... plateau. You need to figure it out yourself."

Castiel considered this. "And that would win you over?" he asked. Sam lifted his nose and Castiel said, "All of those times you put clothespins on your nose to make it pointier really did work out beautifully. You could put swordfish to shame now." He smiled, declaring, "See? I can be polite and complimentary."

"This," Sam said, "is only one and not even a primary reason Dean won't marry you. And nobody else will either."

"You teach me, then," Castiel said. "Though your behaviour as a human seems to be largely performative and based on achievement of status among others whose opinions you ascribe an unusually large weight to--"

"I'd love to help," Sam cut into him, abruptly, then smiled. "See? Polite."

"Your lip is twitching."

"No it's not. Because it would be rude of you to point that out."

Castiel didn't think that sounded right. But if he was ever going to woo Dean, the best person to tell him how would be Sam. It was a foolproof plan.

---

(idk man. anyhow this is obv based on when laurie went to see amy when she was in europe and she was like 'go fix urself and stop being in love with jo and then i'll scoop you up for myself)

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Kiss the Chef

Summary: Dean joins a cooking competition that pairs home cooks with professional chefs. Dean’s partner, award-winning chef Castiel Novak, is the hottest man Dean has ever laid eyes on. Together, they take the heat in the kitchen to a whole new level.

This was inspired by my recent marathon of Guy's Grocery Games and my love for Dean and Cas. This fic is my first Destiel fanfic! I hope you like it as much as I do.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: tension, flirting, terrible puns

Dean Winchester didn’t get bored. He was perfectly happy with his job at Bobby’s garage fixing cars, hanging out with his brother Sam and sister-in-law Eileen and cooking out on the weekends. 

    But lately, Dean had to admit, things had been feeling a little...stale. 

    So when he saw a callout for home chefs for a cooking competition, he jumped at the opportunity. Dean was no dummy in the kitchen. He was creative, always willing to try new recipes interspersed with his classics. Dean was known especially for his burgers, but he had several dishes in his repertoire. Hopefully the professional chef he was partnered with would appreciate that. 

    On the day of the competition, Sam, Eileen and Dean’s best friend Charlie piled into Dean’s prized ‘67 Chevy Impala and came along for the ride to the event space. When they arrive, the three of them are ushered to the spectator’s area and Dean is taken behind the scenes to meet his partner. Dean is absolutely not nervous. 

    Castiel Novak was a classically trained chef. He’d studied at the Culinary Institute of America, going on to work in some of the highest rated kitchens in New York and even winning a James Beard award before coming home to Kansas. Castiel has plans to open a restaurant of his own, and the prize money from today’s competition would go a long way toward helping him achieve that goal. 

    Castiel is waiting in the backstage area to meet his partner for the competition, sizing up the competitors. Some of the other chefs are calm and collected, like he is, while others appear nervous. One looks borderline frantic. His thoughts were interrupted by one of the producers opening the door to the room they’re all in, and in walks the home cooks they’re being matched with. 

    One man toward the back immediately catches Castiel’s attention. The man stands at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a stocky build. He was clean shaven with a sharp jawline and perfectly pink, pillowy lips that Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off of. As if he’d sensed Castiel’s thoughts, the man turned his stunning green eyes on Castiel, and Castiel felt his breath catch in his throat. The producer started pairing up the chefs with the home cooks and Castiel found himself hoping to be paired with the breathtaking man. 

    Luck, or perhaps fate, must have been on Castiel’s side because in a matter of minutes the producer was introducing Castiel to the Adonis he’d been drooling over. 

    “Hi, I’m Dean.” the man extended his hand to Castiel, and Castiel watched himself shake the man’s hand. Dean’s hand was warm and slightly calloused, the mark of a man who worked with his hands. 

    “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.” Dean swallowed thickly at his partner’s voice. Deep and gravelly, Castiel’s voice sent a thrill down Dean’s spine and he immediately wanted to hear it more. Castiel was smoking hot, with messy black hair, eyes like the sky, and a stubbled jaw that was both outrageously sexy and utterly adorable. 

    “So! Uh…” Dean trailed off, realizing Cas still had his hand in his grasp. Dean definitely wasn’t complaining, but they should probably focus on why they were there. “I’m not, uh...well, I know what I’m doing in the kitchen, but...I can’t do knife good.” I can’t do knife good?! Seriously Dean?! “I mean-”

    “It’s alright, Dean,” Castiel said warmly. “I’m a bit nervous myself.” 

    “Right, yes, that’s why I’m not using words correctly,” Dean chuckled nervously, ignoring the blush that absolutely did not color his cheeks. “Let’s forget that happened, huh?” 

    “Sure,” Castiel smiled indulgently, and Dean’s heart squeezed. “Why don’t we discuss skills and what you’re comfortable with?” 

    “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

    “What do you like to cook at home?” Castiel asked. “What are you known for?” 

    “Oh man, that’s easy,” Dean grinned, scooting his chair closer to Castiel to get comfortable. “I’m known for my burgers. I grind my own meat and grill those babies to perfection.” Castiel gives a groan of appreciation, derailing Dean’s train of thought.

    “That sounds phenomenal,” the chef praises. “What else?” 

    “Well not to toot my own horn, but people fight over my mac and cheese. What else, what else-oh! Candied bacon is another one. I make awesome chili, pizza and pasta, and I make my own bread.” 

    “That’s very impressive.” 

    “Thanks, man. I like to think I have a decent set of skills, but nowhere near yours I’m sure.” 

    “Well to be fair, you don’t work in a kitchen 9 hours a day. Don’t judge yourself too harshly.” 

    “Whatever man, you just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” Dean laughed. 

    “As you wish, but I would appreciate your input as well.” 

    “Yes sir.” Dean joked. 

    “Stick to ‘chef’ in the kitchen, Dean.” Castiel corrected lightly. Something about the twinkle in Castiel’s eye made Dean think he might enjoy being called ‘sir’ outside of the kitchen. 

~~~~

    The competing pairs were summoned to their kitchens, the emcee getting the crowd of spectators riled up as the cooks got squared away. Dean waved to Sam and Charlie, smiling when Sam nudged Eileen excitedly and the three of them waved back. 

    “Your family?” Castiel asked as he tied his apron behind his back. Dean absolutely did not watch the way the sleeves of his chef coat flexed with his biceps. Nope. 

    “Yeah, the redhead is my best friend Charlie, and the brunette is my sister-in-law. The moose in the middle is my brother Sam.” Dean replied as he tied his own apron. Castiel might have been watching, but before Dean could call him out on it the chef gave a startled laugh, bringing a hand to his lips to mask his mirth. “What?” 

    “Dean, your apron-” Castiel snickered in delight. “I-is that a flirtation?” he asked. 

    “Huh?” Dean looked down at his apron, cheeks going scarlet when he realized why Castiel was laughing. Emblazoned in obnoxiously large letters were the words ‘Kiss the chef’. This was not the apron Dean had set out for himself. “This isn’t-I mean-” Dean protested weakly, fully aware of Castiel watching him with amusement. “Sonofabitch!” 

    A wolf whistle from the stands caught Dean’s attention, and his head shot up to see Sam waving, clearly proud of himself for pulling a prank on his big brother. 

    “It seems your brother wanted to embarrass you.” Castiel took pity and made no mention of Dean’s blazing cheeks, busying himself with prepping his knives. 

    “I’m gonna kill him,” Dean swore, flipping Sam the bird and getting a hoot in response. The producer shot Dean a dark look, and Dean smiled sheepishly, offering a small wave before glaring daggers at Sam. “Sorry, he thinks he’s funny.” 

    “It’s no matter,” Castiel said smoothly. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

    “What question?” Dean asked as Castiel turned to face him. Castiel’s eyes darted down to Dean’s apron before meeting his gaze again. 

    “Your apron,” he replied coolly. “Accident or flirtation?” 

    “Oh,” Dean’s cheeks grew warm all over again. “I mean...definitely a prank- but that’s not- if you want it to...I don’t need an apron to do my flirting for me.” 

    “Are you always this easily flustered?” Castiel asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “If so we’re going to have a difficult time.” 

    “In my defense, you’re crazy hot,” Dean quipped. “That was a flirtation, just so you know,” he cleared his throat, urging his racing heart to settle the fuck down so he could focus. “Ready to focus, chef.” he gave a mock salute, earning another smile from Castiel as the emcee announced the first round was about to begin. 

    The competition was set up very similar to one of Dean’s favorite cooking competition shows: Guy’s Grocery Games. Their kitchen was inside a sports center instead of a grocery store set, but the concept was essentially the same. They’d be given a theme for each round, and would then have to devise a dish, ‘shop’ in the makeshift grocery aisles, then prepare and plate, and hope to survive to the next round. The winning team would be awarded $10,000 and bragging rights, naturally. 

    The emcee announced their first dish: a savory pasta dish using frozen lobster. Dean heard Castiel groan under his breath. 

    “Best of luck, Dean.” Castiel said warmly as the countdown began.

    “You too, Cas.” 

~~~~

    Dean was vaguely aware of his partner moving behind him, shouting something about a hot behind as he passed through their workspace. 

    “What’d you call me?” he called over his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on the bechamel sauce Cas had tasked him with whisking. 

    “I was warning you I had a hot dish behind you.” Cas replied as he chopped the grilled veggies with a frightening speed. 

    “Uh huh, sure. I saw you checking out my ass earlier.” Dean muttered under his breath. Cas was suddenly by his side, lowering a spoon into the sauce to taste test it. Dean’s eyes followed the spoon to Castiel’s mouth, laser focused on his lips as he savored the flavor of the sauce. 

    “Focus, Dean. If you break that sauce, I’m going to break your face,” Castiel warned. “Add a pinch of white pepper.” 

    “Yes chef.” Dean replied, properly chastised. He wasn’t turned on, he just...kinda liked it when the hot chef threatened him. He ducked his head and tried to pretend the burning in his cheeks was from the heat of the stove. 

    “Damn it.” Castiel cursed from his side of the station. 

    “What?” 

    “We’re running out of time and the pasta isn’t done,” Castiel growled, beating himself up in his mind. He’d known better than to risk the time lobster ravioli would take, and yet...he’d never been one to shy away from risks. “We can’t serve raw lobster, Dean!” 

    “I have an idea! Get the fryer going!” Dean shouted, making a mad dash into the grocery aisles. In the dairy section, he grabbed a dozen eggs. Cradling the box in his arm, Dean raced to the baking aisle, skidding around the corner and nearly wiping out in the process. He recovered quickly, eyes scanning frantically for his quarry.

    “Panko, panko-aha!” Dean grabbed the biggest container he could find and rushed back toward the station. Seeing the ingredients he was carrying, Castiel immediately understood what Dean was going for and got out two bowls before holding out his hands toward Dean. Dean tossed the panko to him, hoping Cas would catch the box. Cas caught the box effortlessly and began to open it, pouring the dredge for their ravioli into one of the bowls just as Dean arrived. “I got this, check the sauce!” 

    Cas rocketed to the stove without a word, whisking the bubbling bechamel with one hand and tossing Dean a clean whisk for the egg bath with another. Dean caught the whisk instinctively, having barely had time to register it flying toward him. He and Cas had hit their groove, and Dean was loving it. 

    Dean got the ravioli prepped and dropped in the fryer, then moved to relieve Cas so the chef could finish chopping the veggies. 

    “Five minutes, chefs!” the emcee called. Cas deserted the mandolin and raced for the dish rack, vying with the other contestants for plates. 

    “How are the raviolis?” Dean asked as he scurried back, arms laden with black square plates. Cas put the plates on the work bench without a word, hurrying to the fryer to check their pasta. He lifted the basket, shaking off the excess oil and grabbing a ravioli with his bare fingers. He swiftly sliced the ravioli down the center and, satisfied with its doneness, upturned the fryer basket into a bowl and shook the ravioli with a touch of lemon juice. 

    “We need to start plating!” Castiel summoned Dean to his side. “Shit, bowls!” Dean darted to the dish rack, grabbing three bowls on the smaller side. Having declared the sauce perfect, Cas was waiting to divvy it evenly into the bowls.

    “Two minutes!” the emcee announced as Dean and Cas worked to make ravioli lines from the plate corners to the bowls, interspersing veggie slices between the fried pasta. “Less than a minute left!” the crowd began to cheer and countdown as Cas and Dean methodically wiped the plates. The crowd roared as the buzzer announced the round was over. All the competitors had completed the challenge, now it was time to present their dishes to the judges. 

    “Holy shit, we did it,” Dean wiped the sweat off his face with a relieved sigh. “We worked really well together, man, congrats.”

    “That we did,” Cas agreed. “Your idea to deep fry the raviolis was brilliant. I hope the judges like it.” 

    “Fingers crossed,” Dean murmured as they gathered their dishes to present to the judges. “If they like it, do I get a date?” he asked. Castiel smiled widely, showing off his perfect teeth.

    “Ask me again if we make it to the next round.”  he replied, and Dean took it in stride, mirroring Cas’ smile with one of his own. 

    “You got it, Cas.” 

~~~~

    After a short break for the remaining contestants to have a small snack and rehydrate, the second round was about to start. Dean was flying high, his mood bolstered by the high praise the judges had given him and Cas. 

    ‘Daring’, they’d called them. 

    ‘Boldly creative’, they’d praised. 

    One judge might have called them insane for attempting fresh made pasta in the first round, but it worked, so who cared?

    Gone was the nervous energy from the first round, Dean was ready to get down to brass tacks and wipe the floor with the two remaining teams. He knew Castiel shared the sentiment, because he’d noticed the chef gazing longingly at the ice cream machine. Castiel was starting to think ahead to what he wanted to make for dessert, and now Dean was too. He wondered if he could convince Cas to make pie. 

    The judges requested a perfect steakhouse dinner, and Dean’s mind immediately went to steak and potatoes. As he and Cas scrambled through the grocery aisles with the other competitors, Dean nearly took an elbow to the face when he grabbed the filet mignon medallions. A lonely package of scallops lay on the shelf below, unseen by the squabbling contestants. Dean swiped the package, and a package of bacon, figuring he and Cas would find a use for them. Bacon wrapped scallops were high-end, right? 

    Escaping somewhat unscathed, Dean regrouped with Cas in the produce section where Cas was picking up potatoes, shallots, garlic, and asparagus. 

    “Don’t start,” Castiel warned when Dean turned his nose up at the green stalks. “It’ll work.” 

    “Yes chef,” Dean replied without hesitation. He trusted Cas, no question. “I’m making the steak though.” 

    “Fine, let’s go!” 

    They made it back to their station without incident and Dean immediately got the grill going. He seasoned the meat with salt and pepper as he waited for it to heat up, getting a sheet pan and coating it with cooking spray for Cas as he tenderly wrapped the bacon around the scallops and stabbed each luscious parcel with toothpicks. With the grill casting flames, Dean set the meat on to cook. Flames jumped up to lick the cuts of meat, embracing the offering as Dean seasoned the other side. Behind him, Cas had filled the sheet tray with bacon wrapped scallops and was moving to put them in the oven to broil. Task complete, Castiel set about getting the asparagus going, putting the stalks in a saucepan with some butter and salt. Satisfied he didn’t need to babysit the steak, Dean washed the potatoes. 

    “Do you need me to get the potatoes?” Castiel asked from the stove, where he stood basting the asparagus with butter. 

    “Nah, I got it,” Dean said confidently, pulling a knife from the wooden block on the counter and spinning it in his hand. He made quick work of the potatoes, getting the newly diced cubes into the salted boiling water. He looked over to see Cas watching him with...surprise? Interest? “See? I’m good with my hands.” 

    “Clearly.” Cas replied, going back to his task. Dean left the potatoes to do their thing and returned to the steak, giving the medallions a flip and ‘ooo’ing at the grill marks on the meat. 

    With the asparagus cooked, Cas quickly blanched the stalks in an ice bath before setting them aside. While Dean babied the grill, Cas set about making garlic herb butter for Dean to slather onto the filet mignon. Realizing he hadn’t started the sauce for the asparagus, Cas abandoned the butter on the counter, turning to see Dean at the stove starting his sauce. 

    “Was this all you wanted in the sauce?” Dean asked skeptically, pointing to the butter and diced shallots he was about to toss in the saucepan. 

    “That was the plan, yes.” 

    “What if we finished the steak in here and then deglaze with that white wine you grabbed?” 

    “I-” Castiel trailed off, eyes darting between the saucepan and the resting asparagus. “Yes. That’s perfect.” With a nod, Dean started the sauce, dropping the shallots into the sizzling pan with the butter and some salt and pepper. While he worked, Cas went to check on the steak. Finding it almost perfectly cooked, Cas transferred the medallions to the saucepan. Dean flashed him a thankful smile, which he returned before going to check the scallops. 

    The scallops were perfectly opaque, the bacon sizzling and tempting. Perfect. 

    Cas pulled the sheet pan from the oven and set it on the counter so the scallops could rest. 

    “Hold it!” Dean called as he moved to close the oven. Dean set the saucepan inside the oven and moved back so Cas could close it. “Hell yeah! Almost done!” He and Cas high-fived before getting back to work. Dean strained the potatoes and started to mash them with dashes of milk, butter, salt and pepper while Cas finished the herb butter. 

    “Less than ten minutes, chefs!” a roar of applause floated from the stands, and Cas and Dean kicked it into high gear. In perfect synchronization, Cas plated the finished potatoes while Dean pulled the steaks from the oven, setting them on the sheet pan to rest and putting the saucepan on the stove so Cas could deglaze it and finish the sauce for the asparagus. Dean put two scallops on each plate beside the mashed potato mountains before gently nestling the steak medallions on top of the potatoes. As Dean wiped the outer edges of the plates clean, Cas came up behind him and artfully placed the asparagus, dolloping the finished sauce over the top with a practiced flourish. 

    “Time is up, chefs! Please bring your plates to the judging table!” the emcee shouted. 

    “Dude, that was so awesome!” Dean cheered excitedly, wrapping Cas in a bear hug. Cas dropped the dirty hand towel he was holding and hugged Dean back, feeling overwhelmingly proud of what they’d just done. 

    “Well done, Dean. I hope you’re as proud of this dish as I am.” 

    “Are you kidding?! Of course I am! We’re so in sync, man, that was awesome!” Dean swooned as they prepared to take their dish to the judges. 

~~~~

    Dean couldn’t believe their luck. He and Cas had made it to the final round! Dean’s fingers were itching to make pie. He just had to sell Cas on it. 

    Cas had finished his water bottle in a matter of seconds. His face was flushed and sweaty, and still unbelievably gorgeous. Dean joined him at the small rest table, offering what was left of his water. Cas accepted it gratefully, dumping a small amount of the offered water over his head before guzzling what remained.

    “So...we made it to the dessert round.” Dean said slyly.

    “That we did,” Cas replied nonchalantly. “Are you planning to ask me out again?” 

    “I mean...you did ask me to wait til now.” Dean shrugged, fixing Cas with a winning grin. Cas laughed, deep and gravelly, and Dean bit his lip as the chef eyed him heatedly. 

    “That’s true, I did,” Cas conceded, taking a deep breath as the emcee called them back to their stations. “Ask me again when we win.” 

    “Yes chef,” Dean smiled, getting to his feet and stretching out his back before following Cas back to their station. “What are your thoughts on pie?” 

    “You want to make pie?” Cas asked.

    “I always want to make pie,” Dean laughed. “Pie is the best thing ever.” 

    “It’s not what I had in mind, I’ll admit,” Cas’ gaze flickered back to the ice cream machine. “I’m tempted to try to make ice cream.” 

    “Yeah I know dude, you’ve been eye-fucking the machine since we got here,” Dean snickered. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” 

    “That’s not true; you haven’t noticed me eye-fucking you once.” 

    That shut Dean up. 

    “I...uh…” What were words?

    “Nothing to add?” Cas asked leadingly, smiling at Dean sweetly. “Your focus is commendable, I’ll give you that. You are...very distracting, Dean. And judging by your behavior you feel the same way about me, so...fuck it,” Before Dean could move a muscle, Cas’ hands are cupping his face and bringing their lips together. Cas’ lips are dry, but soft and sweet. A chorus of whoops from the stands makes them spring apart, and Dean notes with satisfaction that Castiel looks as distracted as Dean feels. “Win or lose, we should go on a date.” 

    “Yeah,” Dean replied dumbly. “Yeah, we should.” he smiled, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 

    “Pie and ice cream?” Cas asked as the emcee counted them down to the final round. 

    “Pie and ice cream,” Dean agreed, fist bumping Cas. “Let’s kick it in the ass.” 

~~~~

    “What are you doing?” Dean asked as Cas pulled the bacon from the oven. The dessert round was halfway over and they were in decent shape to pull off their ambitious dessert. Cas’ cardamom ice cream was churning away happily, while Dean’s mini pie shells blind-baked in the oven. Cas was working on the pie filling (apple, Dean had insisted) while Dean kept a constant eye on a pot of caramel. 

    “Keep whisking,” Cas replied as he leaned close to Dean and slowly drizzled the bacon fat into the caramel Dean was babysitting. Dean gasped at the brilliant move, shooting him what could only be described as heart eyes. “Keep it in your pants, Dean. We’re not done yet.” Cas murmured, winking at Dean before retreating to the counter to chop the bacon into bits and set aside. 

    “You know what we need?” Dean asked over the bustle of the kitchen. 

    “What?” 

    “ Chocolate !” Dean called, as if it were the simplest idea known to man. 

    “Oh my god, Dean, I could kiss you; that’s brilliant!” Cas rumbled from the cutting board. “After we win, of course.” 

    “Of course,” Dean laughed. “I’m gonna make a mousse.” 

    “Use the siphon and foam it!” Cas called as Dean took off running for the grocery aisles. Dean quickly grabbed a bar of dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, vanilla and a siphon before racing back and assembling the chocolate cream. 

~~~~

    “Dean! Taste this.” Cas called as he stirred the pie filling. 

    “Spoon me!” Dean requested as he shook the siphon to foam their chocolate mousse. Castiel dipped a clean spoon into the mixture and fed it to him, catching the drips from the spoon with his free hand. 

    Dean tried not to moan at the taste of the pie filling. Crisp apples, smoky cinnamon and just a touch of tang from the lemon juice. 

    “Oh man,” he sighed happily, tongue darting out to collect the moisture from his bottom lip. “That’s worthy of a marriage proposal.”

    “Plate now, propose later,” Cas quipped. He shot Dean an amused look before turning to pull their mini pie shells from the oven. “Check the caramel please!” 

    Dean scurried to the bubbling pot and checked the thermometer.

    “It’s at temp!” he called over his shoulder. He heard Cas set the muffin pan on the counter and suddenly he appeared at Dean’s side, pulling the pot off the heat and asking Dean to overturn a small mixing bowl. 

    “Do you know how to make caramel cages?” he asked, eyes focused on the caramel as he stirred it vigorously. 

    “Uh...no.” 

    “It’s incredibly easy,” Cas said patiently, demonstrating the proper method before passing the torch to Dean. “Like so.” Dean took the fork from Cas, dipping the tongs in the caramel and stringing it back and forth over the top of the bowl to make a dome. 

    “Eh?” he asked Cas. 

    “Perfect. It should harden enough that it can be safely moved in a few minutes,” Cas said. “We’ll put these on top of your pies, add a quenelle of my ice cream, then dollop the chocolate mousse.” 

    “Sounds great,” Dean replied absently. “Wait, add a what?” 

    “A quenelle,” Cas said patiently. “It’s a fancy word for a molded scoop.” 

    “Oh. So why not just call it a scoop?” Dean argued. 

    “Because it’s not a scoop, Dean, it’s a quenelle.” 

    “You just said it’s a scoop!” 

    “No, it’s a type of scoop.”

    “A scoop is a scoop, Cas!” Dean cried in frustration.

    “No it’s not!” 

    “Look I’ll prove it,” Dean reached for the ice cream, ripping the lid off and using the metal ice cream scoop to gather a perfectly spherical scoop and plunking it on a plate. “What is that called?” 

    “It’s a scoop; will you please be careful with my ice cream? We don’t have much.” 

    “I barely used any; now make your fancy scoop thingy.” 

    “It’s called a-”

    “Don’t care, just make it!” Dean demanded. “C’mon, it’s practice!” Cas rolled his eyes before grabbing a set of spoons and carefully crafting a perfect quenelle of the frozen treat. “Now what is that?” 

    “It’s a-” 

    “ Fancy! Scoop!” Dean shouted over Cas, eliciting a frustrated growl from the chef. 

    “Fine, it’s just a fancy scoop!” 

    “AHA!” Dean slammed his hand on the counter victoriously. “I told you!” 

    “Whatever; I’m going back to plating.” Cas grumbled, leaving Dean at the counter to rescue the pies from the oven. 

    “Hey! Get back here and let me gloat!” Dean called after him. 

    “You can gloat later Dean!” Cas removed the pies from the sheet tray, setting them on the counter to cool.

    “Ugh, fine!” Dean rolled his eyes, turning back to keep working on the caramel nests for the pies.  

~~~~

    The dessert round was down to the final seconds, and Dean had never experienced a more tense moment in his life. All he had to do was finish plating their fourth dessert. Castiel stood beside him, exuding an aura of calm despite the shaking in his hands as he molded another perfect quenelle to place beside their pie. 

    “Gently, Dean,” he murmured soothingly. “That’s our last nest.”

    “I got it,” Dean replied, gingerly setting the caramel nest atop the glistening pie. “See? No problem. We got this. Just a few more seconds and we’re done.” 

    “They’re perfect.” Cas said proudly. 

    “Hell yeah, man, we do good work.” Dean grinned as the buzzer announced the end of the round. The emcee asked them to present their desserts to the judges, and Dean dutifully followed after Cas, heart in his throat as they delivered the dishes. He was confident in their dish, but their competitors dish looked fantastic. They’d managed to bake a chocolate cake roll with pillowy mint filling from scratch with a beautiful chocolate sculpture rounding out their presentation. 

    If their pie and ice cream got taken out by a stupid hunk of chocolate, Dean would not be pleased. He looked over at Cas, who was also inspecting the other dish. Cas met his eyes, somehow knowing what was on Dean’s mind.

    “Are we about to lose to a cake?” he asked. 

    “Win or lose we did our best,” the chef offered placidly.

    “Yeah I know,” Dean said sullenly. “Just don’t fancy the idea of losing to a cake. In what universe is cake superior to pie ?” Cas’s face broke into a smile, making Dean perk up. “What?” 

    “You have a very interesting mind, Dean,” he replied. “I look forward to learning more about you on our date.” he added flirtatiously, making Dean’s cheeks burn with heat. 

    “Right back atcha, chef.” Dean grinned. 

[jamesunderwater]

DEAN WINCHESTER FOR THE ASK GAME

favorite thing about them: ahhh a lot of things but i think it's that he seems like he's the tough brother/mr. toxic masculinity (which dont get me wrong the show is full of) when in reality at his core he's the kind of guy who would get really into the county fair, every fucking year trying SO hard to win best apple pie. He'd go to PTA meetings and decorate the house for different seasons and pretend he hates the kids shows his children watch but then ends up getting invested in them. He's just sooooo soft it hurts me the life he was given instead.

least favorite thing about them: he literally does not know how to value himself. At all. Like...baby boy. You do not always have to be first in line for who should die to save someone.

favorite line: i had to go searching a bit because it's been so long and the first one i thought of was the one you said 😆 which that line crosses my mind alllll the time, even now. But i saw this one and heard it crystal clear in his voice and it made me grin, so: "I think I'm adorable."

brotp: castiel. I totally get why people ship destiel but i mostly just loved that dean actually had a real friend outside of sam...

otp: i ship dean + a peaceful existence.

notp: dude, totally agree, wtf is up with wincest?? It's a big no for me.

random headcanon: idkkk it's been so long since I've thought about spn. You really got me on that dean's a wino train though.

unpopular opinion: lol that the canon show ended with s5 and dean got the ending he deserved

song i associate with them: ohhh so many but there was this one fanvid back in the day of that used this cover of running up that hill by placebo and ughhh it fucking GETS ME the lyrics are perfect for him ):

favorite picture of them: I could have picked so many but dude him in this white shirt in s2e1 DOES SOMETHING TO ME to this day 😅

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

First Born (9x11)

So much in this episode!

Crowley's growing obsession with Dean and all his flirtations intended as annoyances...

"So...is that boudoir smile for me?"

"At least buy me a drink first."

"I do love a good buddy comedy."

"Is all this really necessary? I mean, I've been inside your brother. We're practically family."

"Friends -- besties, actually."

"I'd never leave my domestic partner in crime."

Sam and Castiel bonding and being cinnamon rolls together. PB&Js, the classic dad joke, "Can I ask you a question?" "You just did.", Cas's awkward attempt to empathize and offer comfort to Sam, to reassure him that throwing himself under the bus might not be the right course of action 🥺. Ending with Sam hugging Cas. "Now's the part where you hug back. Ah, there you go."

Dean taking on three demons in hand-to-hand in Cain's kitchen and winning. Cain explaining why he killed Abel, and Dean kinda understanding it... OOF! But Dean knows about sacrificing himself to save his brother, might not ever be able to kill Sam, but he at least kinda gets the whole send your brother to Heaven to save him from Hell concept at least. Him taking on The Mark... 🥺

And, all that AND Tim Omundson who I adore and am always so happy to see!

Whew! There was a LOT in this one.

[lateral-org]

im doing all the fucking tag games tonight. Let's GO

Tagged by @beardedblack , ten tags ten characters ten fandoms. or whatever

Edward Teach. Our Flag Means Death. oh my god. he led me into my raccoon era and i am thankful. he is just like me for real.

2. Edward Nygma, specifically from fox's Gotham. This should be the only other Ed on this list but the night is still young. Autistic repressed theater gayboy. Everything i aspire to be and more. have you seen his sparkly suits. thank you. also i named my blog after him so he belongs on this list.

3. Martin Blackwood. The Magnus Archives. Shout out to the boy who helped me personify my depression(????) Lonely Avatars are the hottest bitches. thank you.

4. Shiv Roy. Succession. Oh my god. Ma'am? Ma'am. leave your husband and marry me instead. corrupt me with your capitalism. i couldn't change her but i'd let her change me. (honorable mentions of succession shoutout to tom greg and roman. but my girl shiv wins every time.)

5. Lalo Salamanca. Better Call Saul. He is the happiest unhinged person i've ever seen. im trying to bring that energy to the new year. remember that time he just. climbed into a ceiling. why did he do that??? unparalleled. adore him forever. (honorable mentions to jimmy and kim. y'all put the SLAY in relationship codependency)

6. Took me too long to get to CASTIEL SUPERNATURAL!!!! SPECIFICALLY FROM SEASON 4. just look at him . oh my god. cultural reset.

7. Katsuki Yuri. Yuri On Ice. I could have picked Vitya but there's something about my depressed little guy and his love for food that hits different. adore him endlessly.

8. Goro Akechi. Persona 5 Royal. Fuck this guy. I hate him so much. I want him dead. i want to keep him on a 4 foot leash. he's the love of my life. literally no character has sparked within me the feelings he has. love him forever. Light Yagami lookin ass. Encyclopedia Brown motherfucker. Ben Shapiro wannabe. Get out of my sight and into my bed

9. Power. Chainsaw Man. She is the queerest girl i've seen in my goddamn life oh my god i love her she's a feral gremlin child she's all the girls i hung out with in middle school do you see her walking around with her bra pads and her baggy jackets. gender.

10. Usagi Tsukino. Sailor Moon. She's the adhd girl representation i always needed as a child. thank you sailor moon for protecting innocence and femininity, you will never be overrated. also your fashion sense is still peak

Tag list: genuinely no pressure but this was really fun so have fun with it: @meanmisscharles @jacentric @vi-fallout @mysticaltragedyturtle @milkywayworm @twelves-guitar @colinthrobinson

[cuttly-pips-a-doodle]

Blog Intro/Info

🐾🌊 Hello! Welcome to my self-indulgent comfort blog. You can call me Pip or Doodle, and here’s some info about me/this blog:

General:

This blog will primarily contain content related to my F/Os, ships, and other self-comfort topics or things that bring me joy.

I invite any/all friendly interaction, if you feel so inclined!

This is a strictly SFW blog (minus like, some harmless suggestive humor on occasion, which will be tagged).

I intend to keep discourse or topics related to it far away from this blog as it is a comfort space for me. Only in the event that something becomes a serious and relevant issue will I bring it up, and only sparingly at that.

About me:

24 y/o

Autistic

AFAB, Demifluid, Outherine, Cassgender

she/they/mew

Asexual Panromantic, Bambi Lesbian

Writer/Amatuer visual artist

Misc. interests include animals, marine life, and too many fandoms to reasonably list ehe. I’d love to talk/ramble about any of these topics!

Fictional Others:

Romantic:

Feferi Peixes (Homestuck) 🦑💗 - My longstanding romantic interest from the time I was 13 ❤️. (I wanna make it CRYSTAL CLEAR up front that since I “met” her at 13, she has continually aged alongside me in my mind. Hence, she is 24, the same age as me. It’s very much a childhood friends-to-lovers type relationship. I DO NOT condone minor-adult relationships. Icky.)

Sangonomiya Kokomi (Genshin Impact) 🐟💙 - …Okay so sue me, I have a type and it’s Pink Fishy Princesses lol. I’ve known her for about 3 years now, since I first got sucked into the addiction that is Genshin. She’s actually the reason I started playing.

Leah (Stardew Valley) 🌲🧡 - Self-explanatory. Everyone has their Stardew Blorbo, and she has been mine from the very first time I played the game years ago. She is the one to help me live out my cottagecore dreams~

Platonic:

Karkat Vantas (Homestuck) 🦀♋ - Early on, I actually had quite strong romantic inclinations towards him, but as he and I aged thru high school, I realized that I more so saw him as a best friend. I still hold him near and dear to my heart as my crabby patron troll and one of my all-time favorite characters. Plus he’s happily together with his boyfriend Dave Strider, so it all worked out hehe

Fluttershy (My Little Pony) 🦋🐎 - Adorable, shy, kind and sweet pony. She has been a favorite character of mine since I was a kid, in large part because I related to her soooo much due to my (then undiagnosed) social anxiety and shy, introverted nature. For that reason I’ve always gotten along with her and consider her a close friend who understands my experiences.

Familial:

Team Free Will (Supernatural) 📜🥧👼 - This includes Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, and Castiel. These three effectively got me through the most challenging time in my life thus far. They became like a second family to me, with Dean and Castiel being like fathers to me, and Sam being like an uncle.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru (Danganronpa) 🎓📚 - My precious son!! I have had an attachment and deep need to protect this boy since I first played Danganronpa. He acts almost exactly like I did as an undiagnosed autistic kid–too loud, strict about me and others following the rules, overly emotional and passionate about things. No harm shall befall this boy on my watch ;w;

Pets:

Mew (Pokemon) 🐈🔮 - My favorite creature in fiction by far. I have dreamed of having a real Mew since I was 10 years old, and had a Mew as one of my first and most consistent imaginary friends. Plus, having a Mew is like having every Pokemon at once since they can transform to any species, so it’s a double win!

Do Not Interact:

proship/comship/similar

the typical discriminations: racism, sexism, any lgbt+ phobia, ableism, etc.

NSFW blogs

radqueers/transids 

TERFs

MAPs/similar

aro/ace/nb/xeno exclusionist

support cringe culture

[samdeancass]

Cuddling (Supernatural Preference)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: None.

Requested: No. ...............................................................................................

Dean

It took a long time for Dean to admit that he loves to cuddle, especially when he’s had a particularly hard day or has been through a tough hunt. He climbs under the covers and slips his arms around your waist before nuzzling his nose into your hair. However, you knew that Dean preferred to be the little spoon. So, usually, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck. You could feel him slowly relax against you as you whispered soothing words into his ear. It is one of the few times that he allows himself to be vulnerable around anybody, in the comfort of his own bedroom. 

He still struggles to ask you to cuddle him because of the toxic masculinity that he deals with everyday and is only amplified by the fact that he’s a hunter. However, once he finds out that you love these moments as much as he does, he begins to slowly open up to you about how he feels and starts to ask you more often until it becomes an unwritten rule between the both of you. Dean felt the safest in your arms and that’s the way that it was going to stay.

Sam 

You loved lying on Sam’s front and wrapping your arms around his torso, letting your muscles relax against his. He loves the feeling of knowing that you feel completely comfortable and safe with him to make yourself so vulnerable. You didn’t really like showing your feelings so it really surprised Sam when one day you lay yourself on top of him and just relaxed.

It was these moments that Sam cherished the most as he knew that the next world threatening apocalypse was around the corner. He would wrap his arms around you and squeeze slightly, pushing you more into him. You adored the intimacy between the both of you. He kisses the top of your head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 

Sam made you feel safe, which you haven’t felt in a long time. The more you became comfortable with cuddling Sam, the more you would do it. It was mostly random but sometimes, it was because you had had a particularly hard day and needed some comfort. But there was one thing that you knew: Sam would always be there to make you feel safe, and that’s what you loved about him.

Cas

Cas isn’t really into PDA, considering he isn’t very familiar with cuddling. Well, he wasn’t at first but when you wake up one night from a nightmare, Cas is right by your side asking what he can do. You pat the empty side of the bed and usher him behind you. You wrap his arms around your waist and cuddle into him, your anxiety immediately falling away. 

You stayed like this for a while. just cuddling in silence. Cas realises, just from this instant, that he likes this type of human affection. He takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers through yours, pull you into him and kiss the top of your head. You smile at these little acts of affection but given that Cas is an angel and doesn’t really understand human interaction, these acts were a big win for you.

You cherish these times with Cas. It’s the only time that you get to be alone with each other and you both loved it. You loved the feeling of Cas’s arms around you as you fall asleep and Cas loved listening to your steadying heartbeat as you fall into a deep slumber. He kisses the top of your head and nuzzles his nose into your hair before saying: “I love you with all my being, Y/N. These moments that I spend with you are the best I’ve ever experienced. I never want them to end.”

Supernatural Tags:

@akshi8278 @stellastyless @deascheck @desimarie12

[tootiredmotel]

spoiler alert: she keeps it

A coda fic of my beloved 10x20 "Angel Heart" bc Cas and Claire are my everything, for @emeraldcas 's celebration!

Prompt: meaningful moments

1.2k words – read on ao3 or below

First, it's a matter of where.

Dean says that the mall is a safe bet, and he’s probably right. It has options, a wide array of stores with near endless possibilities, so Cas asks him for a ride to the nearest one.

As Dean pulls into the parking lot, he asks "You really think you'll finally win her over like this?"

"I'm not trying to "win her over", Dean." Cas air quotes. "It's her birthday. A present is customary, isn't it?"

It's not a rhetorical question, and Dean seems to understand that after studying Cas's gaze on him.

"Yeah. Yeah it is, buddy."

Once inside, the number of options becomes overwhelming rather than comforting. Hundreds of people bustle about, bumping into them with reckless abandon. Cas pauses a few steps from the entrance, breathing heavily and looking every which way, trying to figure out where to begin and coming up blank.

He’s never been to a mall before. 

Dean, staring daggers at the back of someone who almost trampled them, puts a hand on Cas’s back. “C’mon. Let’s try this way,” he says, leading him down the hall to their right.

They walk for a while. Cas quietly studies every store they pass, while Dean speaks up every two minutes with a new idea. Tech store? A new phone. Clothing store? A jacket, hers is looking a bit worn. Shoe store? Do you know her size? We can get her some boots or something.

“Dean,” Cas finally says, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Dean’s arm. He's grateful for the ride, and he's grateful for Dean’s suggestions. Really, he is. “Thank you, but… This is my gift to her. I need to choose on my own.”

Dean starts doing that adorable thing where he can’t decide if he wants to shake his head or nod. “Uh, yeah, no. No problem, angel. You got this. I’ll shut up.”

Right now, Cas is less focused on the gift itself and more on finding a store that feels fitting, one that Claire might pick out on her own. He puts his hands in his pockets and scans the stores in sight. Further down the hall, one storefront stands out. The walls are black, the windows dimly lit, and the sign is made of backlit block letters. It feels… edgy. She’d like it.

“There.” Cas nods toward it. “The Hot Topical.”

The other thing is the matter of what.

Luckily, the Hot Topical seems to have a bit of everything. Dean sets off on his own soon after walking in, saying something about some Star Wars character or other. There's an overwhelming amount of pop culture merchandise, most of which Cas now recognizes. But he's not sure what kind of shows or movies Claire likes, so he opts against those.

Walking deeper into the store, he comes across the jewelry displays. Claire might like some, maybe stud earrings or a necklace, nothing too frilly. But if she's going to keep hunting, and she is, it's not very practical to wear things that can get caught and slow her down. He keeps walking.

The music section is mostly t-shirts. This is where he finds Dean, eyeing the wall curiously, but not looking like he's going to buy.

“Find anything?” Dean asks when he feels Cas next to him.

“Not yet.”

“You will. You got this," he says again, and Cas greatly appreciates the vote of confidence.

Dean turns his attention back to the shirts, and Cas, who isn't all that sure about Claire’s music taste either, goes over to the furthermost wall.

The back of the store is where they keep the miscellaneous things, apparently. One half of the wall is full of small, bobblehead-ish figurines whose heads don’t bobble (as Cas discovers when he picks one of the boxes up and shakes it). The other half of the wall has quite a few things: bags and backpacks on display, a few accessories such as mesh gloves that wouldn’t keep one warm in the slightest, and unnecessarily intricate belts. At the bottom of the wall, however, he spots some shelves with plushies.

That’s where something catches Cas’s eye.

Dean is already at the back of the line when Cas gets there. He's buying an enamel Scooby-Doo keychain and says it's because Baby's is old and he needs a new one; the unbridled delight in his eyes gives him away, though.

"A stuffed animal?" He asks when he notices what Cas is holding. There's no judgment in it. A bit of amusement and maybe, just maybe, a hint of fondness, Cas thinks.

Cas holds up the cat for Dean to take and examine. "It's an... inside thing."

"Right," Dean says, and hands it back.

Dean asks if he even has any money, to which Cas doesn't answer, realizing he doesn't. Dean happily pays for both items.

---

"She kept it, y'know," Dean says behind him, the next day. He pats Cas's shoulder, then heads back to the car, keys jingling against the new keychain.

Castiel stands there for a second, watching the cab roll completely out of the parking lot and out of sight, and he's wishing he could have hugged her longer. Despite having him and the Winchesters and soon Jody Mills, despite knowing she'll always have them… Claire is more alone now than she's ever been. Cas knows she's tough, tougher than she should've had to be, but she's still a kid (as much as she insists she's not). 

He… doesn't pray. Not anymore. But he hopes. He hopes for her every day, hopes for her wellness and safety, hopes he'll be able to see her face again and not just read her words or hear her voice through a phone. And right this second, he's also hoping that his present to her, (which she kept, Cas thinks fondly), will be able to serve its purpose. That it'll be a small source of comfort if she were to ever need it.

---

That night, as Claire settles into a motel bed, she gets a text from Cas. It's a Grumpy Cat meme, one of many cat memes she's received from him since they agreed to stay in touch more. In this one, the image is the cat lying in bed with that face of his, and it says "How many people got trampled on Black Friday this year? Not enough". 

After having cried herself out in the backseat of the cab, she actually smiles for the first time all afternoon; it's not a wide or toothy smile but it's a smile, and she lets out an amused exhale through her nose, so that's something.

She texts him haha and the eye roll emoji.

Are you safe? Cas shoots back.

She double-checked all the locks on all the doors and windows. She's got a knife under the pillow and a gun under the bed. She's all set to get to Jody's by tomorrow. She breathes deep, squeezing the plushie tighter against her chest, and texts back.

I am. Night Cas

She doesn't have time to put the phone down before it dings again.

Good night, Claire. Sweet dreams.

They probably won't be all that sweet. They haven't been sweet in years. But at least now, when the bitter dreams inevitably wake her up, she's got something to hold. Or maybe strangle. Depends on the dream.

Plus, she's got an angel-dad watching over her, too. In a sense.

Claire lets the dryness in her eyes and the heaviness in her body take over, and she falls asleep. Grumpy Cat in hand.

---

Fic taglist: ask to be added or removed! <3

@casismymrdarcy @youcaneven @zorelle @spooky-floral-cas @lilcasx @oh-in-italics @theehunterhusbands @knifelesbianjo @spoookycastiel @shakespeareintellectualbadass @stressedtaco @aniridescentdreamer @mishacase2003 @spookymixtape @dykekingofhell @evermorecastiel @autumncastiel @nightandwine @doyouhearthedestielsing @all-or-nothing-baby @hauntedrederadean @ciderdean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @heres-to-evil-skanks @wormstacheangel @the-boy-kings-crown @10x02 @the-moon-loves-the-sea @ghostlynatural @one-more-offbeat-anthem @spookynightdeancas

[waywardwriting]

Hi can you make a Jack x reader where y/n have powers like Scarlet witch or Jean Grey ( or other powerful girl from the midia if you dont know these two) and they always protect each other even knowing both are strong beings. Based in the scene of season 13 finale where everyone is on the bunker plus the two evil archangels, and the devil try to stole jack´s grace but y/n stop it and let the nephilim kill his biological father.

Grace Filled Revenge || Jack Kline x Reader

Thank you so much I hope you enjoy <3 I used she/they pronouns because none were said I hope that is okay with you !

Jack and Y/N were always there for eachother , always , they were both incredibly strong powerful beings, and knew more than anything they could defend themselves , but , even then they always swore to protect eachother , Y/N was the child of a strong and powerful creature. They had been caught by the wrong people and experimented on until they finally showed their powers, blasting them all out of existence , the Winchesters found out about them not long after when the brothers had read an article on a mysterious explosion. When they had found her they realised she wasn’t the enemy at all but the victim of a horrid crime , beaten and wounded as she was , they brought her to the bunker and helped her heal where she met Jack whom healed all her wounds , she became family to them, She had opened up to Jack about everything that happened to her and even let him look inside her mind, they had a bond like no other and he swore to never ever let anybody hurt them again, he adored her and she meant the world to him. Things were getting bad , as more and more people began to find out about Jack the more they wanted to use him and exploit his powers , Y/N having been through all that already was absolutely enraged at it all, they were scum for wanting to try and hurt the beautiful soul she had gotten to know , she held his hand as they sat in the living room of the bunker “I won’t let anything hurt you…” she reassured him and he smiled at her “I know… me and you against the world Y/N, nothing can stop us” he whispered, things were peaceful for a few days but this was the calm before the storm.

They were mid battle , the archangels and Lucifer wanted Jack for themselves , to harvest his powers and become mighty beings , they were fighting over him right before Y/N and Jacks eyes , and it made Y/N physically sick, was that all he was to his own father…? A weapon…?! In a moment of weakness Lucifer had grabbed Jack and held an angel blade to his throat , he was going to steal Jacks grace “I win.” He smirked as the angels stood by wide eyed , he began to slice a wound but before he could Y/N’s eyes glowed bright and they blew Lucifer back with a strong gush of power , running over to Jack and holding him close to her , keeping the angels and Lucifer stuck in their places “jack…” she whispered and held his hands , turning to the group of animals and growling “IS THAT ALL HE IS TO YOU!? A FUCKING WEAPON!? YOUR OWN SON, YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD AND ALL YOU WANT IS HIS POWER? HE DIDNT ASK FOR THIS , HAVE SOME FUCKING DECENCY!!! A BEAUTIFUL SOUL HE IS , RADIANT AND FULL OF JOY AND HE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN HIS GRACE! “ Y/N kicked Lucifer in the ribs “and by god will I let anybody take him away , theyre his powers not yours , he doesn’t even look like you , he’s his mother to the ground , he’s good , unlike you vile creature” with a closed fist Y/N exploded the angels , leaving Lucifer left wide eyed and covered in blood as was she , Jack walked over , angel blade in hand “you were never my father , you pretended to love me to use me for my power , Castiel is my father and Kelly is my mother , you are nothing to me and you will die with that as your last thoughts.” And with that Jack stabbed Lucifer , his body glowed and his screamed as his life ended , Y/N fell to her knees weak from using too much power , she began to cry , Jack kneeled with her and held her tight to him “hey hey it’s alright … I’m here why are you crying …?” He pondered “you’re so much more than what they make you out to be Jack, you’re wonderful and have a heart of gold… I love you so much” she held him tight “ I thought I was going to lose you…” he ran a finger through Y/N’s hair “ I love you too Y/N you’ll never lose me , it’s me and you against the world remember …? You taught me that I’m not a monster , that I’m more than what people say… for you I’m forever proud” he admitted and begun to heal her wounds as the impala pulled up, Sam Dean and Cas hurrying over “oh my god are you okay? What happened ..?” Sam asked “Lucifer happened .. tried to steal Jacks powers..we took care of it…” Y/N whispered eyes closed as Jack Picked them up carrying them over to the Impala “let’s get you home kid … that was a rough battle…” Dean spoke , Jack held her tight the whole way home , he was so pure , and Y/N was so grateful she didn’t lose him, there were so much more happy memories to make

[wrenhyperfixates]

Just Dance

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki joins you and Peter as you play some video games. Warnings: kind of just a short crack fic but also a lot of fluff A/N: If you somehow don’t know the song Rasputin, please go listen to it. Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Yes!” you cheered as you got in front of Peter at the last second, winning the cup in Mario Kart.

“Nooooo,” he lamented. “I was so close. Nice job though.”

“Thank you. It was a good game. You’ll win next time, Petey,” you said, ruffling his hair.

You began to set up for the next game, selecting your karts and bickering over which courses to do when Loki walked in. He looked between you two and the TV screen.

“Is everything alright, darling?” he asked, coming to sit next to you. “I heard shouting.”

“Better than alright, actually. I won,” you explained as he pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you close.

“Well then, congratulations, my sweet. Might I ask what game you are playing.”

Excitedly, you and Peter explained the game. The conversation took a quick detour to be a debate about which courses and characters and karts were the best. You were pretty sure Loki was totally lost during that bit, but just nodded along as if he understood what you were talking about. Eventually, you agreed to disagree, and finished explaining the controls to the god.

“Most intriguing,” your boyfriend mused. “I do not suppose you would let me join you in playing?”

“Of course we would, Mr. Loki,” Peter grinned.

Honestly, you were a bit more hesitant to let him play. Of course you would love to spend some time playing video games with your boyfriend and best friend, but you knew how Loki could be with modern technology. Or, as he usually called it, “insolent machinery.” Not to mention how competitive he could get. Which would be totally fine, except that you’d be surprised if he didn’t lose. As long as he came in the top six, you were sure you’d be able to keep him happy.  

That was if you even actually got to playing. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to pick a character to play as. He kept asking about the backstory of each of the ones he thought looked interesting. Finally, he settled on King Boo. Mischievous and a king? It was like he was made with Loki in mind. After you and Peter also selected your favorite characters, you began to set the cc of the vs race. Unfortunately, Loki noticed you made it a lower difficulty for him and demanded you play on the hardest one there was.

“Are you sure, Mr. Loki?” Peter asked. “There’s no shame in lowering it since you’re a beginner.”

“I am quite certain, spiderling,” he reaffirmed. “Darling, make it as difficult as possible.”

“If you insist,” you sighed, knowing this wouldn’t end well.

Roughly twenty minutes later, you were proven right. Loki sputtered indignantly after he came in dead last in every race, ranking at the very bottom overall in twelfth place. He angrily tossed the remote down onto the couch beside him. You rubbed calming circles on the back of his hands as his arms came to encircle you again, still sitting on his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, utterly annoyed.

“That is ridiculous!” he finally exclaimed. “It required absolutely no real skill. It is a horrible measure of who is a winner and a loser, if you ask me.”

“Maybe we could play again on the easier setting a few times,” Peter suggested. “Then you could get the hang of it, and you’ll win for sure.”

“No thank you,” Loki answered, unwilling to risk losing again.

“How about a different game then?” you asked, hoping to pacify the adorably pouting god.

“I would not want to disrupt you anymore. It is fine. Besides, I am certain any other of these video games would also have no skill involved beyond pressing some buttons.”

He tried to get up, but you kept him where he was, getting an idea. You looked at Peter, who’d had the same thought as you. You both sprang up and began pushing furniture aside, creating a wide open space.

“What in the Nine are you doing?” Loki asked, bewildered.

“You want a game with your so-called real, physical skill? Well, get ready because we’re playing Just Dance,” you smiled at him, putting the controller back into his hand.

Uncertain about what exactly was happening, Loki stood in front of the screen with you and the teen superhero. As it loaded, you explained the logistics of the game; just follow the moves the avatar on the screen was doing. He eyed the two of you suspiciously, but went along with it. By the time you finished the first song, which you and Peter picked, knowing Loki would’ve taken forever to decide, the god had a wide smile on his face. He kept the two of you dancing for the next hour and a half until you were sweaty and out of breath.

“Ok, I think that’s enough of that for one day,” you panted, out of breath.

“Just one more,” he pleaded with puppy dog eyes. He was looking extra cute, you thought, with his hair pulled into a messy bun. “And then we can stop. But I am on a roll, I can feel it.”

You looked to Peter, who gave a small nod, agreeing to Loki’s request. Resting for a minute, you waited for the trickster god to pick the final song. After listening to the sample, he decided on Rasputin. You let out a tiny groan, knowing this one was a lot of leg work, but still took your position in front of the TV. In the end, you were happy Loki had picked the one he did. He just looked so happy. Not to mention you quite liked the view you got seeing him do the dance and having to wiggle his butt a little. You were sure your boyfriend would be quite embarrassed if he heard those thoughts, you thought with a laugh. Even though you and Peter were collapsing to the ground at the end of it, Loki was jumping up and down, happy that he had performed well enough to earn the megastar title.

“Congratulations, Loki,” you told him from the floor. “Good job.”

He sat on the ground next to you and, bending over, gave you a kiss on the lips. “Thank you, darling. And thank you, both of you, for including me in your games.

“No problem, Mr. Loki,” Peter said. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Indeed it was. Now, do you think I could try Mario Kart again? On a lower level this time, of course.”

Happy he wanted to give it another go, Peter went to change the game cartridge. Sitting up, you squeezed Loki’s hand, glad your boyfriend wasn’t being so stubborn anymore.

“I love you,” you said, kissing him.

“And I, you,” he replied against your lips as you parted ever so slightly.

As you met in another kiss, Loki realized something important; he didn’t care what he was playing, so long as he got to spend time with you.

[idolcandy]

Writing prompt: Lysander bringing Candy back to the farm for a date and to show all the bunnies he has 🥺

~Lys-bunny (I wish mobile let you change the blog that's asking)

The Rabbits of Ainsworth Farm

After meeting Rosa the rabbit, I was curious to see the other rabbits and learn their names. I wondered if Lysander had kept up a theme, naming them after who they reminded him of, or if Rosa, the rabbit not the person, was an exception.

Early on my first morning on the farm, I got up with Lysander to feed the animals, stopping by the visit the rabbits first. While Lysander opened the hutch to let them run wild for the day, I crouched down and tore a head of lettuce into induvial leaves for them. Besides Rosa, three other rabbits hopped towards me for their meal. There was a large white bunny with grey spots, a pure white one, and a chubby red one that took a leaf from my hand and quickly hopped away.

“Is the red one named Castiel?” I asked, finding that the rabbit was red and feisty, like a certain someone we both know.

“They’re all female”

Ah of course. Introduce any males to the mix and well, breeding like rabbits is a phrase for a reason.

“Iris then?”

Lysander laughed a little at that, and god how I’d missed these moments over the past two years. The ordinary, everyday little moments where you get to have silly conversations inspired by shared surroundings, times when you get to see him react, actually see him in the flesh. How had I managed without these moments?

“The red one is Connie, the spotted one is Miffy, and the white one is June.”

“They're adorable,” I said, as Miffy came close enough to let me pet her. Gently I ran the back of my finger over her head, careful not to move too fast and scare her away.

“They love you already,” Lysander crouched down beside me, encouraging the others to come towards us. June immediately hopped over and nestled herself comfortably into Lysander’s lap.

Connie took longer to warm up to me. Cautiously, she came towards us but didn’t stray from Lysander’s side. I’ll just have to win her over with more food and some time.

And I have plenty of time. After two years apart, two whole years without holding him, without seeing him smile, without even the comfort of knowing when I’ll get to see him next, I’m not going anywhere.

[ordinaryschmuck]

The Bright Side of 2020

It's easy to say that 2020 was an awful year. Because it was. 2020 is easily one of the worst years in a while, filled with death, depression, economic collapse, a pandemic, and even the word 'poggers' becoming a thing. 

Seriously, what the hell is 'poggers?!' The more I see it, the less it makes sense to me!

2020 was filled to the brim with so many awful moments. In no way should we forget any of it, and heaven forbid that we ignore all of it.

But that doesn't mean we should let the bad overshadow the good.

As we enter the last month of the dumpster fire that is this year, let us look over the good that came from it. Because I don't want to end 2020 with a whimper, but at least with a little glimmer of hope.

So here is my list:

Joe Biden has been elected as our new president, and the entire world had collectively celebrated. Sure, Trump is reacting to the news like a toddler who won't share his ball and decided to run home crying to his mommy. But by January, we will never talk about this man again, and America will remember him as he was back in 2016: A bad joke that wasn’t that funny to begin with, and has been annoying to hear since the beginning.

Our new vice president will not only be the first female VP but will also be a VP who is an African American, an Asian American, and an Indian American. It doesn't make up for the years when old white dudes were in charge, but it's a start. So let's take a moment to appreciate our new VP, shall we...That was nice. Next!

Voice actors who are people of color are given more of a chance to voice characters who are POC as well. It gets better as white VAs are getting replaced with VAs with the correct background to perform as specific characters. You can make the argument that a voice is a voice and that it doesn't matter who the face behind it is as long as the performance is still good. But if you're going to go the progressive route anyway, then why not go all the way with hiring actors to portray their own race/culture?

Several comedians kept us laughing despite how the year got worse and worse and how emotionally drained they were because of it. Laughter is the best medicine and boy, does it help that I can still laugh off the pain this year brought.

On a darker note: Online personalities Ryan Haywood from Achievement Hunter and Adam Kovic from Funhaus were revealed to dealing in sexual misconducts with their fans. On the surface, this seems like a bad thing. And with the betrayal and heartbreak that came from it, it certainly seems like so. But look at it this way: These monsters would have continued to do such awful things, regardless if they got caught this year or not. And while it pains me to know so many good videos are going to be deleted, some of which helped me on days that I needed a laugh the most, it is good knowing that Haywood and Kovic won't get away with what they did again. Because we won’t let them.

Back to a lighter note: A rare yellow turtle was discovered in India, and I am in love with this thing! I thought it was a mustard stain at first when I saw the photo, but it's a turtle. And it's adorable. And I will not rest until I find it and give it cuddles it deserves. Which is all of the cuddles.

So many incredible LGBTQ+ representations were given this year! Yes, that whole thing with Dean and Castiel was unforgettable as much as it is unforgivable. But if you ignore the live-action side of things and look at animation, you will find things are brighter than a rainbow over a pride parade. Catra and Adora finally kissed in a moment that was both satisfying and beautiful. Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn became a couple in Harley Quinn, giving comic fans something they wanted for years. Adventure Time fans were given a forty-five-minute episode filled with adorable moment after adorable moment of Marceline and Princess Bubblegum being an operant couple. Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts has a character who explicitly says, "I'm gay," and even gets a boyfriend in the end (I think. I haven't finished the show yet). And Disney has finally, F**KING FINALLY, taken steps in the right direction with their new hit: The Owl House. A series where the main character is a bisexual Latina who has a same-sex love interest that has an explicit crush on the main character.

And while we're on the topic of entertainment: HOLY S**T, have you seen the quality content we got this year?

Amazing animated shows came out with hit after hit with series like The Midnight Gospel, The Owl House, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, Central Park, and many, many more. Shows that are hilarious, beautifully animated, and tell compelling stories with equally compelling characters.

Adventure Time, Animaniacs, Eddsworld, Phineas and Ferb, and Crash Bandicoot came back with revivals, reboots, specials, and long-awaited sequels that were not just as good as they were before leaving, but in some ways, are even better.

A recorded performance of Hamilton can now be seen on Disney+, meaning that theater kids can finally see the show they have been obsessing over since that soundtrack came out.

HBOmax took shows from DC's piece of s**t streaming service, meaning that fans can watch Doom Patrol and Harley Quinn on a service that's actually worth the price...Titans can suck a dick. But Doom Patrol and Harley Quinn! Doom Patrol and Harley Quinn!

Avatar: The Last Airbender and Community is on Netflix now...so go watch them.

Spider-Man: Miles Morales is a game that stars the famous bi-racial Spider-Man, that also shows off the color and diversity that is present in the people of Harlem. And given what happened this year, that is definitely appreciated. Not to mention that I’ve heard it's a fun game on top of that!

And that's just the s**t I can think of off the top of my head. There are plenty more good things that came this year, some of which I'm sure is better than what I put on this list. All a person has to do is do some research, which I encourage you to do yourself.

Don't let 2020 win by beating you down. Instead, let's focus on the bright side to stop the dark shadow of a year from taking over.

And I'm begging you: Keep this list going! It's not a bad thing to give people good news for a change.

[haidyn-reeves]

Lie to Me

Summary: The classic truth spell trope with a wicked twist.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4948 

Warnings: Dean’s an asshole. Angst makes the world go ‘round. Insecurities briefly mentioned. Did I mention Dean’s an asshole? Fluff if you squint.

A/N: I’m back! This is my entry for @jawritter‘s Make Me Cry challenge and @deanwanddamons 2k Celebration! My prompts are in bold. I hope y’all enjoy!

It was no secret that Dean had changed since he took the Mark of Cain. He was more reckless than normal, which only progressed after taking out the entire Stine family for what they did to Charlie and almost did to Y/N. Y/N was in the bunker when the Stines invaded, resorting to hiding in one of the trunks of the classic cars in the garage to stay safe. Once Dean left Castiel bloody and battered in the library, he raced to the garage, having told Y/N not to move until he came for her. When he found her, his features only softened once he saw how terrified she was of him; the amount of blood covering his clothes and hands was enough to turn her stomach. Y/N, as usual, did her best to clean up the older Winchester, using it as a way to distract her from what happened only hours prior. When it was time to say goodbye to Charlie, Y/N separated herself from the brothers, the tension between them so thick you needed a chainsaw to cut through. Dean tossed some heated remarks to Sam and Y/N sank to the muddy ground, furious that this was happening in front of the pyre that held their dear friend. Dean stormed off and Sam came around to help her up, the pair watching the bow-legged hunter climb into his Impala and drive away.

Dean was angry, and the only way he knew how to release that anger was to hunt and kill whatever he could. He scoured the news, desperate to find something he could take down, preferably alone. He couldn’t look at Sam, blaming his brother for the death of his surrogate sister. He didn’t want to bring Y/N with him, he just wanted to drive, hunt, and kill.

Dean found a case, one that would hopefully settle the Mark’s need for blood and his own anger. The fact that it was a witch was an added bonus.

He left in the middle of the night when Sam and Y/N couldn’t try to stop him or tag along. He felt a little bad leaving Y/N behind but the Mark stung too badly for him to care at the moment. He wouldn’t be gone long, the case was only two states over, he’d back soon enough. 

In the bunker, Y/N was pissed that Dean was ignoring her calls. Sam expected it, he knew how angry Dean was, so he expected for his brother to ignore him, but Y/N? He adored her, for Dean to ignore her was unlike him. Y/N was confused, she wasn’t part of the plot to save Dean, Sam explicitly kept her out of the loop because he knew asking her to sneak behind Dean’s back was out of the question. She was loyal to the older Winchester, to a fault, and asking her to go against his wishes was more than even Sam could muster. 

Ever since the Stines invaded and killed Charlie, Y/N was thinking about her feelings for Dean. She called him immediately when they broke the door down and he’s the one who instructed her to hide in the garage; it was a plan the two agreed on for these situations. While she was hiding in the trunk of one of the vintage vehicles, all she could think about was that she could die and never be able to tell Dean how she felt. She decided then that she’d tell him, and soon. That’s why she was so upset that he left without telling her, it just prolonged her getting everything out in the open.

While the two waited in the bunker for Dean’s return, Dean handled the witch with ease. She tried at the last minute to hit him with what he assumed was a spell of sorts, but the witch killing bullet was in her before she could finish the incantation. He felt better, the Mark’s hunger was satiated, and there was one less witch causing trouble. A win all around, in his book.

Y/N was sitting in the library researching when the bunker door opened three days later. She was trying to keep the hurt and the anger at bay, still upset that Dean was ignoring her for reasons she couldn’t figure out while she was ready to tell him how she felt. Sam was out grabbing dinner, she assumed it was him.

“That was fast,” she remarked, getting up to help him unpack, until she was face to face with Dean. “Oh, not Sam. Welcome home.” She moved to greet him with a hug, only for him to step back out of her reach. Her face fell, Dean never rejected her touch, even with the Mark. “Dean?”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, “I hate it when you throw yourself at me like that.”

“You…what? Since when?”

“Since forever. Just shows how clingy you are.”

Y/N stared in shock before letting her eyes cast to the floor, the heat in her cheeks so warm coupled with his venomous glare that she was growing physically uncomfortable before him. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize…I thought we…I thought you and I…“

“What? You thought there was something here?” Dean motioned between the two of them. “Far from it.” He looked her over, his eyes running over her figure. “You think I’d ever want you?”

“I…I thought m-maybe…”

“Well I don’t. I don’t even want you here.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, knowing if she was really that unwelcome, he’d have no problem kicking her out.

“True? You want the truth? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t handle the truth. But I’ll give it to you. Don’t you think if I wanted you, I’d have done something by now? You’re just another burden that was dumped on me that I didn’t ask for.” He paused, circling the war table, Y/N visibly shaking before him as she tried to keep herself composed, though it was obvious she was already broken at his words. “You’re always in the way, you know? You’re one more person I have to protect on hunts, since you’re not exactly reliable these days. Maybe if you were in shape you’d be less of a liability, then I wouldn’t have to constantly be saving your sorry ass-“

“Dean!” Sam barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N hadn’t even heard him come in, the blood was pounding in her ears as she fought back tears, refusing to cry in front of Dean for fear he’d throw that in her face, too. He already implied she was fat, using her biggest insecurity against her, she didn’t need him throwing another one her way.

“What? I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t just say that,” Sam glared before shooting a knowing look to Y/N, nodding his head towards the kitchen. She took the hint and all but ran out of the room. “What the hell could she have said to make you say that to her? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She’s just annoying, another mouth to feed, a cockblock at the bar. We don’t need her here bringing us down. I wish she’d just leave.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s Y/N. She’s done more for us than anyone else has. She takes care of us when we’re sick and hurt, she puts up with our shit, specifically all of your shit and you…what the fuck Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his bags and turning to leave the room. Sam watched in disbelief before joining Y/N in the kitchen finding her with her head in her hands at the table. “Hey, hey, shhhh,” he whispered, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed harshly into his flannel. 

“He h-hates me,” she cried, the words muffled against his shirt. Sam shook his head, furious with his brother.

“He doesn’t, he couldn’t.” He rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her from side to side. “That wasn’t my brother.”

“I…I d-don’t understand,” she whimpered, sniffling.

“What exactly happened? Can you tell me?”

Y/N sat up slightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I thought he was you, I said hello, went to hug him. He backed up and when I tried to see what was wrong, he just started in on me.” She looked down. “I was finally ready to tell him, Sam.”

His eyes widened, knowing exactly what she meant. “Oh fuck no,” he muttered, pulling her back into his embrace. “Something must’ve happened while he was gone…but even then he had no right to talk to you like that. For everything that he’s been through, even with the Mark, he’d never, ever, talk to you like that. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead. If he could’ve heard himself…“ Sam stopped, shaking his head in anger. “Something’s not right.”

“Am…am I clingy, Sam?” Y/N asked quietly, Dean’s words echoing in her head.

“God, no, Y/N. You’re not. A few hugs and cuddles here and there doesn’t make you clingy.” Sam smiled sadly, tucking her hair behind her ear. ��You are one of the best things to happen to Dean and me. You look after us, keep this place running, you help with hunts and research. You’re incredibly important to us and you’re a part of this little family, regardless of what my brother said. I love you, he loves you…hell, the real him adores you. You’re the little sister I always wanted, I always want you around. You’re not a cockblock or another mouth to feed and you certainly don’t bring us down. You build us up and help us keep going, every day. And before you say anything, no, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so please don’t get back into that headspace. You’re doing so well, don’t let this bring you back into that dark place. I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N smiled weakly, eyes brimming over with tears at Sam’s reassurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “How about you go take a bath and relax a bit while I try to figure out what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded and he squeezed her in another hug before letting her go, watching her leave the kitchen and make her way towards her room, which was unfortunately next to Dean’s. Y/N tiptoed passed his room, terrified of doing anything to set him off on her again. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she gathered her comfiest pajamas, slippers, and her favorite bath soap to bring to the bathroom. She set those items aside, rummaging for her duffle. She didn’t like being so close to Dean after what happened, so she decided to throw her necessities and some clothes into the bag, topping it with her favorite pillow and blanket. She knew the bedroom next to Sam’s was empty, for now she’d make that her room until she felt comfortable being around the older hunter again.

On the way to the bathroom, Y/N dropped her bag, blanket and pillow into the spare room, closing the door behind her before heading into the private, smaller bathroom in the bunker. She turned the water on in the tub, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain and adding her bath soap before shedding her clothes and sinking into the water below the bubbles.

Down the hall and a few twists and turns away, Sam was making his way to Dean’s room, having already sent a quick prayer to Castiel in hopes he could help him figure out what was wrong with his brother. 

“Sam,” Castiel greeted with a flutter of his wings, “what’s going on?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Something’s wrong with Dean, I don’t know what but the way he just lashed out at Y/N tells me it’s bad.” They stopped outside Dean’s door, Sam knocking hard three times before opening the door, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

“Get out,” Dean growled, ripping his headphones off his ears. 

“Not until you tell me what happened when you were gone to make you come back a grade A douchebag,” Sam shot back.

“Nothing happened, now get out.”

“Dean, you’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Dean glared, his eyes on Castiel. 

“The Dean I know never would’ve said what he did to Y/N, so that’s bullshit,” Sam argued.

“She had it coming,” he shrugged. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared with anger. “Oh, calm down.”

“You know what Dean? Maybe you should leave for a while,” Sam started, advancing towards Dean, “sort your shit out.”

Dean rose from his bed, glowering at his little brother. “You’re really gonna kick me out? For her?”

Before Sam could respond, Castiel took the opportunity to move around Sam, placing his fingers to Dean’s forehead to see if he could use his grace to identify the problem. “He’s under a spell.”

“A spell? What kind of spell?” Sam asked, looking between the angel and the thoroughly pissed off hunter.

“I’m not sure, but it’s there, clinging to him.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead again to try and ease him a bit to get him to cooperate better. Dean sat back down on his bed, a little more relaxed.

“Dean, you have to tell me what happened when you were gone,” Sam pleaded.

“I was on a hunt, it was a witch.”

“Do you remember anything that she said?”

“She was chanting something but I killed her before she could finish.”

“Or maybe you didn’t,” Sam sighed. “I’ll call Rowena, see if she can maybe give use insight as to what kind of spell the witch used.” He pulled out his phone before looking at his brother again. “You stay the hell away from Y/N, got it? You’ve done enough damage.”

“I’ll watch him,” Castiel offered, Sam nodding in agreement before shooting his brother one last look and heading to the library, dialing Rowena’s number.

“Samuel,” she answered.

“Rowena, I need your help.”

“You seem to be needing a lot of that lately, Samuel. And yet you’ve done nothing for me in return.”

“I’m working on it,” he responded curtly, “the quicker you get to the bunker, the faster I finish the deal. It’s about Y/N.”

The witch sighed, having developed a soft spot for the girl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.”

After her bath, Sam informed Y/N that Rowena was coming and that there was some sort of spell involved. Y/N cringed at his brother’s name, her body tensing. Sam explained that he knew the spell wasn’t an excuse for what Dean said to her, but it helped piece a few things together. Y/N just wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the hunter the same way again.

Until Rowena arrived, Y/N stayed in her new bedroom, locked away from everyone but Sam. He brought her meals, knowing she wasn’t up to wandering the bunker halls and risking the chance of running into Dean. As strong as he knew she was, even he didn’t think she’d be able to handle another run-in with the older hunter. 

Two days later, Rowena made her way down the steps of the bunker. Sam did his best to fill her in on what little information he got from Dean, which was a terrible pronunciation of whatever the young witch chanted at him, plus the crap attitude he’d been exhibiting ever since, including what he said to Y/N.

“But here’s the thing, I know my brother and I know how he feels about her, and it’s…it’s like everything he said to her is the exact opposite of what he’s ever said to me about her. He’s said some pretty fucked up things in his life, even to me, but to her? He’d never. It doesn’t make sense, he said the witch didn’t even finish the spell.”

“Perhaps your brother changed his mind.”

“Rowena, no. Cas was able to detect the remnants of a spell that seems to be stuck to him. That’s why I need your help, I don’t know what spell it could be.”

“Your brother, he possesses the Mark of Cain, correct?” Sam nodded. “Then whatever spell she cast…the Mark in a way protects the person who bears it. The person can’t die, as you know. In this case, it sounds like the Mark warped the spell that was thrown at Dean and it’s now sticking to him instead of wearing off like it normally would after a few days.”

“But what kind of spell? A truth spell wouldn’t make him say all that…”

“No, but the Mark could twist a truth spell into making him lie, instead. Do you know anything about the witch?”

“She was casting truth spells and tearing couples apart around town,” Dean answered, making his presence known as he entered the war room. “She was angry that her husband had an affair and she took it out on everyone else.”

Sam groaned. “So that’s it. It was a truth spell but the Mark made you lie instead of actually tell the truth.”

Rowena rolled her eyes, “and turned you into quite the dick.” Dean shot a glare at the red-head, ready to bark a nasty reply when Sam stepped between the two.

“You don’t speak unless we ask you to,” he ordered, staring down his brother. Dean’s eyes widened before he cocked a brow, smirking.

“You don’t think there’s more I could say to you this time?”

“I don’t care what you say to me, I know it isn’t you. But Y/N? She’s off limits.”

“Too late for that-“

“ENOUGH,” Rowena yelled, both hunters jumping in surprise, “now, Samuel, you can fetch me these ingredients and Dean, well, you can sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

As Sam went to the storage room to gather the ingredients needed for the spell to reverse the one stuck to Dean, Rowena followed him to Y/N’s makeshift room, knocking on the door. 

“Go away,” Y/N answered pitifully.

“Someone’s here to see you, honey,” Sam answered, “its safe, I promise.” He unlocked her door and left her and Rowena alone while he went to find her supplies. Y/N sat up on her bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the witch.

“Hi,” she smiled weakly, moving over on her bed to make room for the witch.

“Oh darlin’, Auntie Rowena will fix it,” she soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “You see, Dean was hit with a truth spell, but because he bears the Mark, the spell backfired and made him lie instead. Sam’s fetching me the ingredients I need for a reversal to get rid of the spell that’s clinging to him because of the Mark.”

“So…all the things he said…”

“I’m guessing whatever he wanted to say, he said the opposite. Apparently the witch was cheated on by her husband and due to her anger she took it out on everyone, especially men, and cursed them to tell the truth. But in Dean’s case, he was cursed to lie.”

“And be a douche,” Y/N muttered. “He said some awful things, Ro.”

“The man’s not exactly kind on a good day if you’re on his bad side,” Rowena noted. “I’ll fix him. He’s going to remember everything and run in here and apologize, you’ll see.”

“I’m not sure I can look at him, I mean, he was so cold…so brutal. If I look at him that’s all I’ll see.”

“I think once he realizes what he said and how badly he hurt you, you’ll see a side of him you’ve never seen before. Dean’s very protective of you, we all know it, so once he realizes he’s the one who hurt you, he’s gonna be devastated. You just have to remember, it wasn’t him.”

Y/N nodded, though still apprehensive. Rowena smiled warmly, patting her legs before leaving the room to see if Sam found everything. Y/N curled back up under the covers, thinking about what Rowena said. Knowing that a spell made him say those things made her feel the smallest bit better, but it was still replaying in her head since it happened. She could still see Dean’s look of disgust and hear the hatred dripping off his tongue. The idea of facing him, even after he was cured of this spell, still terrified her.

In the library, Dean was sitting at one of the tables nursing his whiskey while Rowena and Sam worked on the spell. Cas was on standby, ready to intervene if Dean got out of hand somehow and also to see if the lingering spell faded. 

Minutes later, Rowena was chanting the incantation for the reversal, Sam and Cas on either side of Dean as a precaution. A beat passed before Dean’s stoic expression faded and his eyes glowed green. Rowena sighed with relief and Cas pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, nodding. The spell worked, Dean was back to normal.

And oh, what a crash it was.

Dean blinked a few times, looking around at their worried faces as he registered what had happened. When he realized who was missing in the room, his eyes widened as it all came flooding back like a movie scene in his head. 

“Where is she?” He choked, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized the magnitude of what he said to her.

“You remember?” Dean looked at Sam, shame and regret on his face.

“Everything.”

“She’s in the room next to mine, just go easy on her, Dean. You really did a number on her.” Dean nodded, hastily leaving the library and racing down the bunker halls until he got to the room Y/N was in. He took a deep breath before knocking softly.

“Come in,” she called, voice quiet. Dean turned the knob slowly, opening the door to find her curled up on the bed. The blatant fear on her face didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, the grimace leaving a sharp pain in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “we need to talk.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” she answered, less bite in her reply than she would have liked.

“That…that wasn’t me, you know I’d never-“

“I thought I did, Dean. But that…even with a spell…,” She looked away from him, shaking her head. Dean’s face fell, eyes filling with tears. He really fucked up and it wasn’t even his fault this time.

“Y/N, I swear on Sam’s life, I didn’t mean a single word that I said to you that night. That wasn’t me talking, that was the spell. It’s like everything I wanted to say to you came out the complete opposite, the Mark completely took over and I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean paused, slowly making his way to her bed. When she didn’t object, he sat down by her feet.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he begged. Y/N looked up from the spot she was fixated on on the floor, her eyes meeting his teary ones. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you are perfect exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t be able to go on day after day without you supporting me. You aren’t a burden and I never want you to leave even though I think you deserve better than this life. Selfishly, I can’t let you go. You make this place feel like a home and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re not clingy…you mean so much to me, Y/N. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I hate that I’ve hurt you. I’m supposed to protect you and you’re…you’re scared of me.”

“You looked at me with such hate,” she whispered, cringing. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try.”

“Sweetheart, I could never hate you,” Dean breathed, “not when I’m too busy loving you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You…what?”

“When I got back that night you said you thought there was something between us and I told you there wasn’t because of the spell’s influence. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you. There’s always been a different connection between you and I. I don’t see you as a little sister the way Sam does. I know what I said, but Y/N, how could I not want you?”

Y/N blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Uh, well, for starters, look at me.”

“I’m always looking at you. I think you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. You take care of me, you put up with my shit, and you’re my best friend. I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

“Dean…I-“

“You don’t have to say it back. I put you through hell, I don’t expect you to feel that way about me anymore.”

“No, I do, and that’s been the hardest part.”

Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long that is, proving to you that I mean everything I just said.”

“It wasn’t you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to.”

“But I’ll do it if it means you’ll forgive me.” He wiped a few stray tears off her cheek, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. “Can I hold you?” He asked meekly, biting his lip. She nodded into his palm before getting scooped up in a hug, her face buried in his neck as Dean finally broke, tears landing in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, squeezing her to him.

“Dean,” she mumbled, her lips against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “Please don’t cry.” She rubbed his back softly, trying to soothe him. She didn’t expect this. 

“I hate this thing so much,” he muttered, her eyes casting down to his forearm where the Mark was hidden by his henley sleeve. “All it does is make me angry and it’s getting harder and harder to control it, especially after…”

“I know,” she nodded, knowing he meant Charlie and the Stines. “That whole thing…that’s what made me want to tell you how I felt about you. Waiting for you in the trunk of the car felt like an eternity and I knew I would be okay as long as you got to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you, Dean, always. But I was so scared that they’d find me first and I’d die before getting to tell you. You were so angry and it felt wrong to tell you right after we lost Charlie, but I gathered the little confidence I had while you were gone-“

“And then I came home under a spell and said what I said.” Dean sighed, his grip tightening on her. “When you called me and told me the Stines broke in, Y/N, I’ve been in awful situations like that before with Sam but this…this felt so different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw you and knew you were okay. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, no matter how fast I drove.” Y/N shuddered at the memory, digging herself deeper into Dean’s chest, face pressed against his neck. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as his scent that can only be described as Dean calmed her senses. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing her hair. He laid them down on her bed, tucking her under his chin.

“Dean,” she whispered, fisting his henley. 

“Yeah baby?”

“I do love you, you know.” She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I maybe had a small feeling, or at least hoped I was reading everything right.” He ran his fingers through her hair gently, breathing in her shampoo. “Will you give me a chance to make it all up to you?”

She pulled back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm, eyes locked on hers as his stubble tickled her skin. “Of course, handsome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her palm as she blushed. She couldn’t stay mad at Dean, never was able to. But knowing how he truly felt about her, that everything that happened was the work of a witch, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her Dean, the man who sang her back to sleep when her nightmares took over even though he hated singing to anyone but Baby’s steering wheel. The man looking at her so intently, holding her so tightly, this was her Dean. “And Dean?” 

“Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you,” she smiled, Dean’s eyes softening as he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her impossibly closer. He kissed her forehead and her nose before softly kissing her lips, pulling back and brushing his nose against hers. Dean knew what happened wasn’t his fault, and Y/N may have forgiven him anyway, but he fully intended on spending the rest of his life, however long it may be, making sure she knew just how much he loved her, and doing his very best to deserve someone as incredible as her.