#dean and benny were together

[otrousiarioanonimo]

Benny and Dean dated

Hear me out

1. In Purgatoty, Benny was supper pressed about Cass joining them on their trip out, but only after he saw how Dean acted towards Cass.

2. Dean is always Benny’s emmergency call. But like why? Benny had a well travelled life before he died, he must’ve had friends he trusted outside of his nest, people or vamps he met while traveling with Andrea, someone who knew him before he died and their loyalties woudn’t lie with the Old Man; because there’s just no way he and Andrea got away from the Old Man and made it on their own for so long without the help of others (someone obviously betrayed them and thats how Benny got killed and Andrea turned). But no. Benny’s first instinct is to reach out to Dean. Dean Winchester, the almighty hunter with whom, as we get kind of shown, he has a deal to never see again as long as he stays good and clean, SO WHY CALL DEAN FOR HELP??

3. Any time Benny calls or is involved in a case (when Sam suspects he killed someone in New Orleans), Dean literally drops everything to go to his aid, like he doesn’n even wait for the others around him to be preocupied with someting else or even tries to make a remotely believable exuse to remove himself from company, he just leaves to take the call or leaves alltogether with little to no exlanation. 

4.They are both there for eachother while they experience and process trauma and life I guess.

5. As soon as Benny showed a minimal sign of hesitation towards Andrea’s afecction, Dean went for her head and left no time at all for them to even talk it through or come to an agreement, he just went for the kill.

6. Even after the whole fiasco with Elisabeth and Martin, still, Benny reached out to Dean to make sure they still were on good terms as if Dean hadn’t just made the douchyest move in the book to get Sam off of Benny’s back.

7. From the get go on season 8 they parallel both Dean and Sam’s storylines with Benny and Amelia about how you can’t have atachments in the Life and you have to be fully comitted or risk getting killed. They even break up with their significant others on the same episode. Even as they reencounter Charlie and Dean tells her what has been up with them since they last saw her and Dean gets all intense over “having to let go”, Charlie asks him if he broke up with someone too.

My point is, yes, clearly you have to build trust to fight your way out of Purgatory in the lapse of a year, and you sure can develop a tentative frienship because of that. But the relationship and fallout between Dean and Benny is waaay too intense, dramatic and emotionally charged for a simple frienship of mutual convinience until we both wet out of this hellhole.

[hornystiel]

c4 dean hewwo palette for anon and 4e benny kin list palette for @mountaingoatsbennylafitte <3

doing this

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 12

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,760

A/N: I'm back! Therapy has been great, I'm feeling like myself and that I can breath again. It's been a tough year and ya girl's mind needed a restart, but I am back and doing good.

Also, hope this chapter can be a bit of escape with the election insanity this week. Take care of yourselves everyone! 💖

Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he rests against the door.

What the fuck are you doing? Is all that rings in his mind.

Here he is, with some random girl who's staying in his guest house, put there by his bitch of an ex wife, basically groping her while his mother is a room away. Like he’s seventeen again. 

Really and truly. What the fuck. Are. You. Doing?

Dean rubs an exasperated hand down his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes before his hands slap down against his sides. 

It’s the whiskey. He tells himself. Just the whiskey. 

It has nothing to do with your smile. Like when you lit up on the track when you found out Rick would be taking you racing in your dream car. 

Nor your smart ass remarks that always seem to be waiting behind those pretty lips of yours. Or how you drive him crazy in the best and worst ways. Like making him say “please” in the garage this afternoon. 

It definitely has nothing to do with the way you look at him, no longer with disdain, but more recently with shining Y/E/C eyes and something that makes him want to throw you against this damn door, his nose running down the delicate skin of your neck as he takes you in as his hands explore every part of you. 

It also doesn’t help how you react to him; like when he turned your manners game around on you in the garage, and your eyes lit up in a way that made him want to throw you across the hood of Baby and have his way with you. Then just now in the hallway, how you seemed to want this as much as he did. How you leaned into him at his touch, the feel of your curves everywhere as he held you against him.

Those god damn hips. 

Dean’s jaw tightens at the thought, his teeth grinding down as something besides his heart rate starts to rise. 

Fuck. His head falls back with a thud against the doorframe. 

Y/N is hardly the first woman he’s been attracted to since his separation from Lisa. Hell, in the beginning, women were what kept his mind off his imploded marriage. Benny had laughed that Dean was making up for lost time since he and Lisa had gotten together when they were so young, but in reality, Dean just hated coming home to an empty house every day. All he could think of was Lisa and Gavin in his house. In his bed.  

But Dean would be lying to himself if this was only attraction. Ever since their hike, he’s found himself looking towards your cabin everyday before work, hoping to catch a glance of you before he has to leave. When sitting at his empty dining table, he would think about texting you, or maybe even going over and knocking on the cabin door, envisioning interrupting your own meal and riling you up in the process. Watching that fire come alive in you set something alive in Dean. It was like a wildfire, and he was happily caught in its path. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that. Somehow, at some point, you had drawn him in, and god damn did he want more. So much more. 

And it’s not just your body he wants to get to know. He’s found himself wondering what your favorite color is, or what movies you like to watch. He wanted to know, besides him, what made you tick? What makes you happy?

Could I make her happy?

Dean shakes his head and toes his boots off, shaking his head, trying to rid his thoughts of you. He doesn’t want to think about that last question, because he knows the answer. 

And while he tries to focus on undressing, his body is not willing to let go of the idea of you just yet.  

He’s wound up, and god damnit did he need a release. 

He undoes his belt and reaches into his boxers, feeling himself strain against the fabric as he takes a deep breath. He grunts, squeezing his eyes shut before pulling his hand out of his pants.

He shakes his head. He can’t do this. Not with you a wall away and his mother across the hall. He has some self respect. Not much, but he couldn’t sink as low as jerking off to you while you slept in his little brother’s room.

Sam.

And just like that, thinking of Sammy snaps him out of it. He relaxes with a deep breath, the tension finally beginning to fade away.

For extra measure, he pushes himself off the door and pulls it open, striding quickly down the hall to the unoccupied bathroom. He locks the door behind him and reaches into the shower and throws the water on. He drops his undone pants, letting them and his boxers pool around his feet before stepping out of them and throwing his sweater over his head before stepping into the shallow tub. 

He takes in a sharp breath as the cold spray of the shower meets his heated skin, his teeth clenched tight as he drowns himself under the stream as he works to think about anything but you.

Your eyes flutter open, a glimmer of the morning sun sneaking through the gaps of the curtained window. You take in a deep breath, flipping from your side to your back and sigh as you look up at the ceiling. 

Your mind is still reeling from last night; Dean’s hands holding you tight against him, his lips teasing your neck. 

You shut your eyes and swallow.

It was simultaneously one of the hottest and most frustrating things a man has ever done to you. Of course you had wished he had done a hell of a lot more, but the tease of it somehow made it that much more exciting. It made you wonder what else was in store for you. Just a sweet little taste of the possibilities that was Dean Winchester. 

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand beside you, and you shake off last night’s memories as you lean over to pick it up, the screen reading 9:52 with a few notifications beneath it.  

Shit. You quickly sit up. Normally, this would be a regular wakeup time for you on vacation or on the weekends, but you were a guest in someone’s home, and it felt incredibly rude to be up here sleeping while they were most likely downstairs waiting for you. 

As you scramble out of bed, the throb from last night’s wine is front and center in your head. You reach into your purse and throw back two Advil with a swash of water that you set out on your bedside last night before you throw on some fuzzy socks and a hoodie large enough to snuggle yourself into.

Before you reach for the door, you peek at yourself in the full-length mirror and grimace. You smooth down your hair and give it a fluff with your fingers before you reach into your makeup bag, dabbing on some concealer under your eyes and on a few of your red spots, with a light swipe of subtle blush on your cheeks before you deem you look good enough without looking like you’re trying.

You take a deep breath and open the door, taking in the quiet hallway and noticing both the doors to Mary and Dean’s rooms are ajar.

Fuck. You were at least hoping Dean might have also slept in after last night. But no such luck. 

You head down the stairs, your hand on the rail so you don’t slip in your socks before you wander into the kitchen. Mary is sitting at the table in front of the windows, one of her legs propped up and her head hidden by a book. Dean is hunched on a barstool at the island, a plate of food in front of him, currently being shoveled into his mouth, his usual caveman behavior, you’ve noticed, when it comes to food. 

“Morning,” you offer softly as you head over to the coffee maker, a half pot waiting for you. Mary had given you a tour of the kitchen while you cooked dinner last night, and you reach into the cabinet above the brewer and grab a light yellow ceramic mug and fill it about 3/4s of the way.

“Milk’s in the fridge.” Dean mumbles over the food in his mouth and you turn to face him fully. His eyes are cast down at a paper spread flat in front of him next to his breakfast. A smile you hadn’t intended falls at his lack of attention and you head over to the fridge, pouring until your coffee resembles the color of sand. Exactly how you liked it. 

“Want some coffee with that milk?” That deep voice rings out again, and this time when you look up, you’re met with Dean’s enchanting, forest eyes. Your heart skips a beat in your chest and you recap the milk before putting it away and closing the fridge door.

“Some of us enjoy flavor.” You smirk at him as you lean against the counter behind you, your hands wrapped tightly around the warmed mug, the kitchen cool in this March morning. 

“Milk doesn’t have flavor.” Dean grumbles, shoving a fork filled with eggs into his mouth. You frown at him. 

It’s like the tale of two Deans. The suave, sexy sweatered Dean who looks at you like he’ll throw you over your shoulder and make you scream until your voice is hoarse, and the pain-in-the-ass, mannerless idiot you’ve mostly grown accustomed to these last few weeks. 

Looks like you were getting the idiot this morning. You sigh at your own disappointment and swallow down your frown, wondering what that means about last night. 

When you don’t respond, Dean looks back to you, a question in his eyes. 

“There’s a plate for you in the oven.” Dean points his fork to said appliance. You turn your head, following the direction of his utensil-turned-compass.

“Oh,” your shoulders drop. “You didn’t have to save me a plate.” You feel your cheeks flush at the thought that they waited for you so long this morning that they had to keep a plate warm for you in the oven. 

“Oh don’t worry, Dean made it fresh.” Mary peeks out from behind her book for a quick second before disappearing again behind the cover. Dean drops his fork with a clank and shoots his mother a look, one she misses. 

You push off the counter and pad over to the oven. You pull open the door to find a blue ceramic plate.

No way.

You pull out the plate from the oven, the platter only slightly warm, and are greeted with two pancakes and a side of bacon. 

You quickly close the oven and turn on your heel facing Dean.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice catches in your throat as you stare down at the fluffy buttermilk pancakes sitting poised on the plate. 

“Yeah, well, mom made eggs and I know your picky ass won’t eat those. Can’t have you starve before a big day.” Dean’s eyes met yours for only a moment before he shifts on the barstool and returns to his paper. 

You smile, even though Dean’s not looking at you anymore. You maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing a fork and knife before settling down at the island, a barstool between you and Dean.

You turn and look at him, his shapely jawline adorned with a devilish level of scruff.

“Thank you.” You say earnestly. This catches Dean’s attention, his gaze finding and holding yours long enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Don’t mention it.” He lingers on you for a moment longer before turning back to his paper and flipping a page. 

Your lips quirk but you try to not think too much on it as you begin digging in; the pancakes, buttery and full of vanilla, melting deliciously in your mouth. 

The rest of breakfast goes on in silence; Mary reading her book, Dean focused on the paper, and you left flipping through your phone since no one seemed interested in chatting. 

As you load up your dishes in the dishwasher, Dean folders his paper up and slaps it down on the counter before sitting up straight and crossing his arms as he stares you down.

“Think you can be ready in an hour?” Your face falls.

“More notice would have been nice, but yes, I can be ready in an hour.” 

“Good, cause we’re leaving in an hour.” You cross your arms, matching his stance.

“You don’t say.” Dean rolls his eyes at you and you huff. 

“Just go get ready.” He shakes his head, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

Such a pain in the ass. A handsome pain with a handsome ass. But still a pain. 

“Fine. See you in an hour.”

Forty-seven minutes later, you’re showered, your hair is dried and curled into a soft wave, and you’re putting on the finishing touches of your makeup when there’s a soft knock on your door.

You peek at your watch.

“I still have thirteen minutes!” You call out. 

Dean really was pushing the boundaries today. And it was driving you crazy. 

He practically dry humps you last night, ignores you this morning, but makes you a delicious breakfast because he remembered you hate eggs. The man was impossible and it was starting to annoy you. And frustrate you, in a way you were not used to. You bite down on your lip.

“It’s just me.” Mary’s gentle voice calls back.

Shit. 

You drop your mascara into your makeup bag and push yourself off the floor and scurry to the door.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as soon as Mary comes into view. “I assumed you were Dean.” You offer a half smile as Mary chuckles.

“It’s okay. Mind if I come in.” You step aside and open the door fully, allowing Mary to step in. 

“I just wanted to see if you need any help with your outfit.”

“My outfit?” Your brow furrows, and you look over to your bed where your black chunky sweater and jeans lay waiting for you. Mary’s eyes follow your line of sight. 

“I’m going to guess Dean didn’t give you a heads up, since men never think about these things, but these car shows tend to be on the dresser side.”

Fuck. No, Dean did not tell you that. Your jeans were the nicest thing you brought with you. 

“Yeah, he failed to mention that.” Now you stare at your outfit, anxiety flooding through you at the thought of sticking out for being underdressed. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Mary just smiles at you.

“Come with me.” She waves at you before heading out of the room, and like you’re told, you follow her, heading across the hall and into her bedroom.

The room is large and full of windows and natural light. The lake-chic theme of the downstairs continues through the primary bedroom, with white furniture, a canopy bed with a blue bedspread that matches the wainscot walls, and yellow accents throughout the room. On one of the dressers is a large, framed, selfie of Mary and John, which looks more recent than a lot of the pictures in the living room. Mary’s smile is bright as ever as John kisses her cheek, the two of them in heavy jackets and beanie hats, the hint of snow behind them. 

Mary continues through the room, stopping in a short hallway before disappearing through a doorway. 

“I’ve got a few options that will probably fit you.” Mary’s muffled voice carries through the open doorway before she steps back into view, several hangers in her hand. “You look to be about my size from twenty years ago. And luckily I’m terrible at throwing out old clothes.” She chuckles as she lays out her six options on the ombre comforter that probably matches the lake when it’s not frozen. 

They’re all a mix of dresses, different colors and styles, but the fifth from the end catches your eye.

“Ohh, how about that one.”

Dean taps his foot as he waits in the foyer, checking his watch again. It’s now been an hour and seven minutes since you went upstairs. 

“God dammit woman,” he mutters out in a sigh. 

He meant to tell you last night what time you had to be ready, but the two of you got a little preoccupied. Now he was paying for it by not giving you more of a heads up. 

He should have said something the moment you came downstairs this morning, but he wasn't ready to face you right at that moment. The dreams he had about you last night made it hard to look you in the eyes. And when he finally did, you looked absolutely beautiful, sleep still in your Y/E/C eyes and a glow in your cheeks. You looked like you belonged here, resting against the counter in his mother’s kitchen, cozied up in some giant hoodie and pajama pants with coffee-flavored milk in your hands. 

The floor above him creaks and he turns quickly on his heel, his face dropping with his mood when he sees who it is. 

“Is she ready yet?” Dean all but whines to his mother as she descends. Rather than answer him, she stops two steps from the bottom, standing slightly higher than her statuesque son, and smacks him right in the side of the head.

“Ow!” Dean’s hand jumps to where his mother landed her stinging blow. Not that there was much power behind her swat, but she hasn’t smacked him like this since he was a teenager. 

“What the hell was that for?” Dean bemoans with a grimace, cradling his head.

“Dean Michael Winchester.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow at his mother’s use of his full name.

This was not good.

“You didn’t think,” Mary takes another step down. “To one,” she raises a finger. “Tell her that the car show is cocktail attire.”

Shit. 

“And two.” The second finger goes up. “What time to be ready. So don’t you stand here with a puss face asking when she’s going to be ready.” Dean drops his hand at his mother’s scolding and rolls his eyes. 

He starts to shake his head when Mary’s hand makes contact again, the surprise sending Dean stumbling.

“OW!” Dean yells louder this time, more annoyed than actually hurt. With how much smaller Mary was compared to him, Dean doubted she could actually hurt him even if she really wanted to.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Dean.” Her voice is sharp as her grass-green eyes stare him down. 

“I’m sorry, fine.” Dean concedes. “I just didn’t think about it.” But Mary doesn’t break eye contact.

“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Mary gives him one last pointed look before taking the final step down and disappearing into the living room. 

Dean watches her go before glancing back towards the empty staircase, sighing out his frustration and giving you a few more minutes of grace.

Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, Dean is leaning against the frame of the front door when the upstairs landing groans again.

Dean’s head whips in that direction as he pushes off the door, just in time to see you take the first step. You’re wearing the black heeled boots you had on yesterday, but it’s paired with a strapless beige dress, the edges trimmed in black with a matching belt wrapped tight around the gentle curve of your waist.

Without thinking, Dean lets out a low, impressed whistle, ignoring the pounding in his chest as he stands up just a little straighter. 

Your hair is down, styled off to one side, with the most makeup Dean has seen you in so far; with full, dark lashes, pink cheeks, and bright red lips, which Dean can’t seem to look away from.

Something else is starting to stand a little straighter too.

Dean clears his throat, and offers out a hand as you get to the last step.

“Thanks,” you reply gently before you drop his hand and head for the coat rack.

“You look nice.” Dean’s now taking in the view of you from the back, leaving little to the imagination like those workout pants did a few weeks ago as the dress seemed to hug your body perfectly. 

Damn. And here mom thought you weren’t prepared. 

You spin on your heel, one arm shimming into your jacket sleeve, your eyes as bright at your smile.

“Thanks.” You repeat. “The dress is your mom’s.” You smirk.

Dean’s mouth drops open as his stomach falls.

“Please don’t tell me that.” Dean groans. The last thing he needs to think about is his mom in that dress. The same dress he was just checking out your ass in.

You just quietly chuckle as your other arm flails for your second sleeve, just missing the opening.

Without a word, Dean steps closer, grabbing your jacket for you and holding it steady so you can slip your arm into. Once it’s in, Dean raises your jacket just a bit before resting it on your shoulders. 

You turn back to him with a smile of thanks, which he can’t help but return.

“Ready?” 

“Sure am.” 

Dean opens the front door for you and you step outside into the bracing afternoon air.

“Have fun, kids!” Mary’s voice travels behind the two of you as Dean steps outside and closes the door behind him. 

You take gentle steps across the driveway, avoiding the few patches of ice that are still lingering. This gives Dean the opening he needs to step in front of you, getting to the passenger door of the Impala about three steps ahead of you.

Without a word, he pulls open the door.

“Wow, getting the full gentleman treatment today, huh.” Your cheek dimples with your half smile as you lower yourself into the passenger seat. Dean smiles down at you.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” You chuckle as Dean gently shuts the door before heading around to the driver’s seat and hopping in.

With one last check of the mirrors, Dean backs out of the driveway, and the two of you were off. 

[storiesfromafan]

Late Night Moments - Benny x Reader

A/N: I don't think I like this that much...but I'm stilling going to post it.

I'm suffering from writters block, and my headspace isn't that great right now. But I'm trying to still write anything.

The soft tap-tap at your window finally woke you up. Half sitting up you rubbed your eyes before turning on your bedside table and looking at the time; just after midnight. Once more there was a soft tap-tap to your window.

“What the...” you sighed, before slipping from your warm, comfy bed.

Slowly shuffling toward the window, there it was again; tap-tap. Annoyed for whatever it was that was ruining your sleep, you pushed back the white curtains. Looking down from your window on the second floor, you took in the darkness of the night. Only the street lights offering small bouts of light.

Then you saw him. Even in the night you could tell it was Benny. He was standing below your window, and when your eyes adjusted more you could see small rocks scattered by your window on the roof. That’s what the noise was. Benny had been throwing rocks to get your attention. A smile grew on your lips, your stomach a flutter with butterflies. Partially excited to see Benny, but also worried if your father found him out the front of the house.

Almost a week he’d been gone, you were sad without him around. And you weren't sure when Benny would be back in town. He must have gotten back this evening, and no doubt he’d been at Grand and Division catching up with the Vandals. Which you understood. But Benny showing up this late at night meant he couldn’t wait to see you. And it warmed your heart.

You noticed Benny was doing something, your brows drew together in confusion before you recognised he was gesturing for you to come down. You looked back towards your bedroom door, a bit of a nervous habit, before turning back and putting up one finger. Which was to tell Benny to give you a minute, you closed the curtain and moved across your room to your bedroom door, until you recalled that you were in your night dress. So quickly you moved to your closet, choosing to put on a three quarter sleeved sweater, dark slacks and some flats. And before heading out you quickly brushed your hair and put it up in a ponytail. You weren’t trying to win a beauty contest. Plus you’d just been woken up. Yet you were eager to see your man.

Slowly and quietly you closed your bedroom door, before creeping down the hall to the stair case. With all your stealth you walked down the stairs, across the lounge room and opened the front door. Once outside, the door closed with minimal sound, you turned to the front yard of your house and Benny, who waited by the foot path and just out of any light.

Walking towards him you noted how his hands were in the pockets of his jacket, his gaze following your every move. All you could do was admire your boyfriend, who gave off James Dean vibes. From his rebel without a cause air, to that smouldering gaze he gives you when smoking a cigarette. Your man oozed sex appeal. Why he ever chose you was beyond you. If he was James Dean, you’d be more like Doris Day. He was a bad boy, and you the girl next door.

No wonder your parents disapprove of your relationship. And though they might voice it, they never get fully involved. They just hope you’d wake up and come to your senses. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t giving up Benny. Not now, not ever. With him you felt seen and heard, like you were more then what people see when they look at you.

Reaching Benny, he removed his hands from his pockets before you were close enough to wrap an arm around you. Holding you close, Benny steered you down the street to his motorbike. He didn’t want to alert your parents to his presence. The walk seven houses from yours, Benny whispered how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you. You giggled and held onto the hand, that was attached to the arm around you.

Reaching his bike, Benny stopped by it, encasing you in his arms as he leant down for a longing kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, happy to lock lips with this fine man. Pulling back you smiled brightly at Benny, who gave you one of his knee weakening smiles in return.

“You must of missed me, huh?” You asked with a giggle.

Benny pulled you close to him. “Always, baby".

Your heart sang at his words. This man always brightened your mood from just being in your space. He made you so unbelievably happy. You just couldn’t understand why your parents couldn’t get that through their thick heads. If Benny asked for you to be his forever, you’d gladly say yes.

“I know it’s late, but wanna go for a ride?” Benny asked, surprising you that he’d still want to ride around after getting back from a run with the boys.

You nodded your head. “Of course Benny, I’ll always ride with you”.

Benny shot you a brief toothy smile before untangling the two of you. Getting on his bike, Benny made quick work of starting it up before holding out his hand to you. Without hesitation you took his hand and swung your leg over. Once settled behind him you wrapped your arms around his waist. Making sure you were set, Benny soon pulled away from the curb and headed further from your house.

He rode through the streets and then the main street of town, heading out toward the open fields and scares farm houses. You held on tightly to Benny, enjoying the feel of him and his warmth. And he was enjoying it too, having the two things he cared most in this moment, you and riding his bike. Benny rode till he reached your spot, a small lake with some trees. It was a place you both discovered one afternoon on a ride. From then on its where you both go to be together.

Benny helped you off the bike and you moved to stand by the lake, while he finished parking his bike. Once done you heard him make his way to you, and then you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and his face burying in the crook of your neck. You smiled at how needy he could be sometimes, but welcomed it whole heartedly.

“You must have missed me a lot" you giggled.

Benny pulled you closer to him, holding you tighter. “Yes, baby".

Your heart sang at his reply. “I missed you terribly” you admitted. “I hate when you go on runs with the guys. But I understand it’s your thing, and you can do what you want".

Benny pulled back and placed a kiss to your temple. “I know ya do. I’m glad you don’t try to change me".

You turned around in his hold, moving your hands to wrap around his neck. “I don’t want to change you Benny, or else you wouldn’t be the bad boy I fell for".

Benny chuckled before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your lips. “Bad boy you fell for, huh?” He whispered against your lips.

You blushed, burying your face against his shoulder in embarrassment for admitting your feelings for the Vandal. Feelings had never been discussed between you, though you both knew how you both felt for each other. In such a short time – a month – you knew you were in love with Benny. No other man had made you feel like Benny, even if you had only went on a couple dates with the other guys. Yet with Benny there had been no first date, he just claimed you in a bar full of Vandals. Letting them know you were his girl.

Benny didn’t even know you when he did this. He just walked up to your table were you and a couple of your friends were, sat down next to you and gave you that Benny charm, along with flirting. You spent most of that night talking, learning about the man beside you. You were intrigued right from the moment he sat down, and you only grew more into over that night. There was something about Benny that drew you in, and by the time you left, you were trapped in his net.

You left with your girl friends, as you got a lift from them. But Benny did try to get you to let him take you home. You were nervous to tell him it might not be a good idea, as your parents might not like him taking you home. Benny understood, but made sure you agreed to go for a ride with him the next day. You agreed, wanting to spend more time with him. From there it was history.

Benny pulled back, moving a hand to grab your chin and bringing your face into view. You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. But when he asked for you to look at him, you couldn’t deny him. Looking upon his face you saw a warm smile, which sparkled in his eyes. Your heart skipping a beat at the sight.

His hand holding your chin held you in place as Benny moved in to kiss you once more. It was soft and tender, taking a moment to enjoy how soft your lips are compared to his slightly chapped ones. You moved your hands to hold on to Benny’s denim vest, needing to ground yourself to something. Then he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. As usually Benny wouldn’t ask for it he’d just take it, but he knew this moment was different to the usual heated make out sessions.

You didn’t deny his request, opening your mouth for Benny and always would. His tongue entered your mouth, seeking out your own. His caressed your tongue slowly, causing you to softly moan. Your grip in his vest tightened, while you moved to press your lips harder to Benny’s, your tongue battling his. You wanted more from him, but Benny refused to turn up the heat of the kiss. He was setting the pace and he wanted it to be slower, but intense. Which he got, for it was frustrating you.

Soon he pulled back, which made you whine and Benny chuckled. “Patience baby".

You pouted. “When have you ever been patient, huh?” You retorted.

“That’s true” his chuckle turning into a soft laugh. “But I’m tryin' now. As I want nothin’ more than is kiss you senseless”.

“Then do that Benny" you continued to whine.

He shook his head. “Not right now, but soon, promise".

You sighed, wanting to move your face from Benny. But with his hold still on your chin, he wouldn’t let you look away from him. He wanted you to focus on him, wanting all your attention. Taking a deep breath, Benny took a moment to go over the thoughts running through his mind. Wanting to make sure he got what he wanted to say out right.

“You are really somethin’, you know that right?” He asked, looking you in the eyes. “And you mean so much to me...I’ve never felt this way about someone before".

You waited with baited breath for Benny to continue, if he would.

Benny’s hand moved from your chin, to cupping your cheek. Thumb caressing your soft, warm skin. “You’ve put a spell on me, ya know that? Because I’m crazy about ya...I love you".

You were shocked. Benny just told you he loved you. And here you thought you’d be the one confessing first. But nope, he was the one laying it out before you. Your heart felt warm and light, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The biggest smile crossed your lips, as a noise of joy left your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. Planting a quick, hard kiss to his lips, which made Benny laugh.

You pulled back till your lips were just touching. “I love you too Benny!” The excitement evident in your voice.

Benny pulled you close and kissed you once again, only hard and vigorously. Not even waiting for permission to deepen the kiss, just taking what he wanted. Which you wouldn’t have any other way. You both so happy in this moment, feeling each other’s love.

After those confessions, you and Benny took to cuddling up by one of the large trees. Enjoying the bliss of admitting your feelings. Lazily kissing and soft words spoken to each other. Gradually the darkness began to lift, the sky getting lighter, telling you that the day was coming. So reluctantly, you both headed back. The ride was just as good as before, possibly better now with your happiness.

Parking where he first did, Benny cut the engine and put down the kickstand. He then helped you off the bike, before following you. Wrapping his arm around you Benny lead you back to your house. By now the sun was rising, and you knew there was a chance your parents might be up. Did you care? No. Nothing could ruin your mood. Stopping at your neighbours house, Benny kissed you and reluctantly said goodbye.

You continued to slowly walk to the path leading to your house, stopping to look at Benny once more. Those butterflies going nuts from just looking at the gorgeous man watching you, waiting for you to get home safely. Then you turned and walked up to your front door, though it felt more like you were floating. Quietly you opened the door, slipping in and closing it just as quietly. Then you lent against the door, bright smile still on your face as you heard the faint noise of Benny's bike.

Moving from your spot and across the lounge room to the stairs, you were greeted to your mother coming down the stairs. She was surprised to see you, but then noticed you were dressed and goofy grin on your face.

“What are you doing?” She enquired.

You held onto the banister, “nothing ma. Was just out enjoying the morning". And with that you slipped past her and headed to your room.

Of course you passed your father, who gave you a confused look. When your door closed he headed to your mother, who had come back up to watch you. They shared are confused looked.

“What was that?” Your father asked.

Slowly it dawned on your mother, who didn’t know if she should be upset or happy. “Our daughter in love".

[zepskies]

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life. 

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.  

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it. 

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.  

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky. 

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance. 

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs. 

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. 

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.  

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders. 

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.  

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! 

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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Series Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@aylacavebear @liopleurodean @brujaporfavor @xiphoidbones @xsophianicolex

@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

[ppersonalsspace]

The thing about season 8 is that they were clearly trying to make Destiel happen. There is no other way to take in the events of that ENTIRE season without going- oh yeah Dean is queer and also pining for the angel. The CW clearly did not like that and shot that storyline down, but COME ON…

- Dean spent a year in Purgatory by CHOICE bc he wouldn’t leave Cas

- love triangles! Dean/Benny/Cas vs Sam/Amelia/her husband

- Benny saved Dean in Purgatory vs Amelia saved Sam from his grief/hunting

- Dean being a huge dick about Amelia, Sam being a huge dick about Benny

- Salmon Dean both going through a “break-up” in Larp after they chose to stick together rather than keep Amelia/Benny in their lives

- Literally every conversation between Dean and Benny is so sexually charged it’s stupid.

- Benny was down bad for Dean… he DIED for him when he knew he couldn’t be a part of Dean’s life topside.

- Dean was so fucked up at the thought Cas would CHOOSE to stay behind his brain altered his memory. No magic here, folks. Just a desperate broken heart.

- After Cas ditched him, again, Dean was so eager to do the trials so he could die for the cause. Cas left him so he wanted to DIE. Girl, get a grip.

- He was so fucked up in fact, he turned down a one-night stand with one of the coolest and hottest women they’ve met. He really tried to say “i want to just nows not a good time” and she said “no you really dont” translation GAY.

- and then after that 1st trial Dean praying to, I’m sorry, “begging” Cas to come back.

- Then the crypt! WHAT THE FUCK.

- You are telling me we were supposed to watch brainwashed Cas kill hindreds of DEANS and accept it was a hetero connection

- BI LIGHTING

- “What broke the connection?” genuinely shut the fuck up

I could obviously go on, but my hand is tired of typing on my phone.

Oh- side note- it was only a few months after S8 finished airing that Misha tweeted “youre not crazy” so… I mean I AM. But. It was there. Textually. And they gaslit us into thinking it was subtext or fan fetishization so much that we have been feral posting for years and years, defending what we saw happening on our screens.

I hate Supernatural. It’s my favorite show.

[odesofmeddea]

trying on an argument why sam and dean were in factual canonical enmeshment: their bond presumes the absence of nuclear family or any long-term partner in the lives of either; the very formulation of this rigid condition - me or her, - is telling, overtly so, how their relationships are rooted bog-deep in the belief in its crucial self-sufficiency. the bond between related people devoid of such an incestuous tilt generally endorses that a relative builds and commits to a family of his own and puts not a stipulation of choice. that is, ‘it is fine if my brother marries - how and why would that affect our connection?’ - is not fine with sam and dean. if it was so, sam would've kept dating ruby, amelia, etc., etc., without dean putting him under the exigency of picking, without the uncontrollable invasion of his sexual and general privacy by dean (‘did you have sex with her? first madison then ruby now cara then lilith’, dean eavesdropping on sam's calls and going through his phone, or interrogating him concerning his whereabouts, if there's a woman he doesn't know about), and, moreover, without sam feeling an unspelt obligation of either concealing (why, right?) or rescinding these side hook-ups. oh, also it's him or benny. same with lisa, who knew the fact of her secondariness when competing with sam and that the existence of one naturally excluded that of the other. why can't they all be a big family performing roles socially allotted to them?.. because sam fills in all the roles. because dean and sam want to live in one room and they brush their teeth together and share one car and invariably solve cases together and own a dog and coparent jack and even their afterlife is a shared homoheaven bereft of other love interests. where a woman is to put herself between, in what inextant interstice? ultimately she is reduced to a blur in the background while sammy raises his kid, dean ii, and she is not addressed, not once, in the script, her only definition is of a nemo-womb sam cohabits with to conceive a replica of dean he can nurture as a solace during his lifelong premeditation of reunion with his brother, his nóstos - this is an awful lot of all women and possible partners of have been and to be. one would say that's rather too much. were sam and dean a girl and a boy conforming to gender binarism & heteronormativity the ambiguity of their relation would've been acknowledged more widely, the incestuous codependency interpreted more obscene. but since they're not and also are very uneasy with the innuendo (‘the most troubling question is why they keep assuming we're gay? - we're just brothers!’), it's very convenient to diminish it to just a strong fraternal love. which it is. but not only that.

the potentiality of erotic subtext inside of their greedy proximity seems scary and stupid and is eschewed by both - how are they to subvert and subsume their relationship into non-brother categorization when it's just their life, just the only thing they've known, being this close? still, the only affairs permitted are the ones that are treated as and are simple, emotionally untethered one-night-stands because sam and dean are not sexually available to each other. nor they're resolute into directly consummating their relationship - the need to is either lacking or suppressed and is to be interpreted variously because covert incest is not primarily about coition but miscellanea of things, more often than not of un/subconscious genesis and procession. sam and dean know their relationship is bonkers. they don't necessarily have to know or admit they're a couple. what else they know, though, is they can't have sex. they cannot consciously translate their enmeshment into overt eroticism. that's why the siren episode is titled ‘sex and violence’ - there the mutual violence unleashed onto each other (along with the symbolic penetration through knife and breaking of the door) serves as a surrogate for sex. that, along with impulsive hugs, is the only form of lingering physical contact they usually have. but the yearning, although not experienced in one concreteness, compensates and provides for itself in a safer realm of sam and dean's emotional spaces. they can't have sex but they can fall into possession of each other's feelings. that's why once the personal attachment to anyone else is developed it is construed as betrayal by either. if you need another person, if you feel something for them that you're supposed to feel only with me (intimacy, trust, love, loyalty, belonging) - that's when you abandon me because we can't coexist with others.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff. 

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand. 

“Me too,” you said.

________

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Portato

Chapter Thirty Seven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Pamela, Charlie, Jesse, Benny, Kevin and Sam

Word Count: ~3250 with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Tricia did read through the first scene, but all mistakes are still on me, Dean goes to confession, our reader's self esteem overrides all logic and prodding.

Series Masterlist

There have always been certain women in your life that you just didn’t click with. Some you wanted to, badly. Others you admired from afar, too shy or self conscious to really try to form any kind of bond, be it professional, educational or friendly. There were some you wanted nothing to do with. 

And then there was Pamela.

She was someone you had always admired, still slightly feared, but had resigned yourself to maintaining a simple and mildly judgemental, professional relationship. So when she woke you up, hungover and definitely disheveled as you were, on the bus to Phoenix, you were wary.

“Hey, sorry, but uh— could you come with me? Please?” She looked a little spooked and not exactly as apologetic as she sounded, but you nodded and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“What’s going on?” You said quietly, aware of all the other people around you as you shuffled after her to the actual bunk room in the back of the bus. Except no one back there was even asleep.

“Tell her what you told me. Or everything. Whatever comes last.” Pamela seemed pissed as she snapped at Dean and a sudden dread flooded your senses.

He sat on a bottom bunk, fingers rubbing over his lips in consideration as he glared at Pamela’s demands.

You knew something was up with the buddy system after the last show, but neither you nor Charlie had found anything substantial online. Which left in person or direct phone call threats. You’d been with the band long enough to have seen some shit, from overzealous fans to crazy ex’s and even a few stalkers. Benny’s team didn’t mess around when something had weight behind it. Outside of Vegas, you thought it was over.

By the look in Dean’s eyes, it was worse than you had guessed.

“Who died?” Was possibly the worst thing you could have said to Dean, by the journey his face went through.

He just gaped at you before Pamela dove back in.

“Wait— did someone actually die?”

“Will you let me speak for my damn self?! Christ, Pammy. Sorry, Trouble, this is not how I wanted you to find any of this out. Sit down.”

“Oh boy.”

There wasn’t any furniture back there and it felt oddly intimate to sit next to Dean on a borrowed bed like that. Every other bed was too far away. Instead, you slinked down to the floor and popped your knees up in front of you, like a child during circle time, but with something to hold onto.

“What’s going on? Is this about that guy outside of Wednesday’s show?”

“Kind of.”

Pamela exhaled and uncrossed her arms. “I’m gonna go– I don’t think I’m needed and it’s just gonna rile me up if I hear it all over again. But I’ll be up front if either of you need me, got it?”

“Good call— and, uh, thanks.” Dean looked up at her. Pamela nodded and left you and Dean alone.

The air grew thick and you had to get something off your chest before Dean got into whatever had Pamela so on edge. “Are you okay?”

Dean sighed and picked at the seam of his jeans. “I thought I was, you know? I’ve been putting in the work, but being back there, and then seeing Alastair— Having Cain at the fucking show. Really messed with my head.”

“Who are they?”

“Well, you’ve heard about Cain, Cain Charles. I used to box at his gyms all the time.”

You nodded into the pretzel of your arms.

“Well, I wasn’t really boxing— not most of the time. I was fighting in underground MMA type bouts. And Alastair, the slimy looking dude outside the first show? He was my trainer.”

Dean let that sit, but it didn’t take long for the pieces to start to fall together.

“The bruises— I remember how you were always hurt or stiff all the time.”

“Yeah, don’t miss that one bit either.” Dean rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at you, hunched as if he’s expected to get yelled at.

“So, what do they want? Why’s Benny got the guys on high alert?”

“Me.”

It was almost comical the way your mind looped around that simple word. Lots of people wanted Dean. And you couldn’t blame them, but those connotations didn’t quite fit the conversation so far.

“For what?”

“Back in the ring, at their beck and call, probably licking their boots while I’m at it.”

You straightened up, urgency starting to get the better of you. “Dean, I need more information here. Were you, like, an indentured servant? Do you owe them money? Why are they after you for real?”

“No, I, uh— I was there willingly. Started off with a fight at a club and when one of the goons came over to break it up, the guy didn’t kick me out. Instead he gave me a card, told me I had ‘promise’.”

“So you just decided one day to be a cage fighter? Being a rockstar wasn’t enough or something?” You balked, trying to figure out what drove Dean to that place. 

“Look, I’m not perfect, okay? And neither are you, so please, let me explain myself a little?”

You folded back in on yourself. “Yeah, of course, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that— just give me the benefit of the doubt here, at least in the beginning.”

You twisted your fingers in front of your lips and tossed an imaginary key behind your back. Dean huffed out a laugh and cleared his throat.

“So, uh, do you remember before the fourth album we were kind of burnt out and Pamela and Lee were going through the last divorce and Bobby was kind of still AWOL because he’d just gotten married himself and Sam was fine by then and Adam was getting all those scholarships and shit?”

“You’re talking, like, almost back to the summer before the shit with Cas, right?”

  “There abouts, yeah.”

“Okay, vaguely. I remember being busy, Zacarriah had just been promoted and he was doing a lot of poking around. So I wasn’t doing much with you guys in person— since it was between tours.”

“Yeah, makes sense. Charlie and I played a lot of Call of Duty that break.”

“Okay?”

“I just— I was low. And then, finally, we got back into the studio and I could do something, be useful. I was able to sort of bury the darkness.”

“But it didn’t go away?”

Dean shook his head.

“Fast forward and I get this mafia-looking dude telling me I was worth more than just what my dad wanted me to be.”

“Dean—”

“It’s okay. I’ve been over that with Missouri too, just sayin’ why it was such a compliment.”

 Dean rubbed his palms against each other and kind of looked behind you as he kept talking. “So I checked it out, the fights were underground but not, like, dirty. I mean, they fought dirty as hell, but I didn’t feel like I was getting an STD just by walking in.”

“Okay, so you’re no Tyler Durden. What made you stay?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“The rush of a fight. And you know— I’m hard up for praise— it’s why I love the spotlight and the fans. But it wasn’t like it is with the band. I didn’t even have to work as hard at it as I do with the music— it was only me up there. I didn’t have to answer to anybody else. It was just my hands and the other guys’ that I had to worry about. No harmonies, no compromises. It was easy. And I thought it made me free.”

Dean didn’t meet your eyes, he looked at the wall behind you or the floor. You had never seen him so ashamed, or so outright confessional.

 You inched forward, the need to comfort him tingled along your arms and into your useless hands. “What made you stop? Besides the last tour, obviously, you couldn’t be in two places at once.”

“Uh, so, Cas must have been following me because there was one night where it got really bad. I got really bad— just pummeled a guy to the mat. They— there’s not really refs, more like bouncers to hold back the crowds. But it took three of them to haul my ass to the showers. Cain has doctors on retainer, nobody was gonna call an ambulance and rat the place out. But, he wasn’t moving the last time I got a look at him.”

Dean looked up and into your eyes.

“I still don’t know if that guy is okay or anything. That was my last fight before we hit the road. And Cas called me out, eventually. Let me stew with the unknown and the guilt for a good month first. I didn’t know he needed me. He had his own shit with the kid and stuff then. I just thought— I don’t know. Anyway, you probably got a good handle on what happened after that.”

“So, they’re blackmailing you? Cain and Allistair?”

“Alastair.”

“Him.”

“No, but they’re watching you. They know— they know everyone I care about. Cain thinks I’m letting you guys save me from my true nature. He’s big on instinct and fight or flight crap. But he’s very logical about it all. Alastair—,” Dean blew out the breath he had been holding and dropped onto the floor in front of you, back against the drawers beneath the beds. “He’s a fucking sadist. He wants people to hurt, it’s not just about power—- it’s torture.”

You swallowed. “Don’t you think we need to go to the authorities? They sound dangerous. Really dangerous.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not an option. Cain is too good, his business is airtight. Nobody talks or walks away. That’s why he’s so insistent. He thinks he can bring me back.”

You didn’t want to know, but you needed to know, so you asked, “do you— would you?”

“No. Not anymore. I’ve come too far. There’s days when I think about it. When it would be easier to just be the beast again. But I’ve got too much to lose. I have the band family, Charlie, Gibson, you—- So no, Trouble, I ain’t going back.”

You smiled at him, softly, not really letting him see how that sent your face burning with all the worry still hanging in the air.

“How can I help? Do I need to enlist Charlie and get our devices better hidden? Change reservations to keep people off our trail? The tour is set, we can’t cancel any dates—- but we can be more careful.”

“Uh, wow, I guess check in with Bobby and Benny? They’re already on top of things, but more eyes on it couldn’t hurt. I— is there anything you want to know? I feel like you’re taking this really well. Like instant problem solving mode. Not even flinching over what— the things I did.”

Dean leveled you with an unimpressed glare and cleared his throat. “Hit me. I can take it.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes as you resituated your legs and propped yourself up on your right hand. “It’s a lot, you know? We knew you were struggling. And we all had been on the receiving end of your temper enough to know not to poke the bear.---- But, I guess, it’s nice knowing, for sure. Like there was something there—- Someones there holding you back, keeping you from us. I’m sorry you had to go through that all alone.”

Dean bumped your knee with his. “Don’t need your pity. But, maybe, your forgiveness. Because I was fucking rotten to you—- more than once.”

“You sure were.” You looked him dead on.

“You’re a part of this band. Whether we say it or not. Even Kevin knows you’re in charge.”

“Pam’s in charge, she just lets everyone run things,” you quipped, an old Bobby line.

Dean chuckled. “Fine. But I am sorry for the things I called you. And how much I leaned on you after Sam and Bobby pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Don’t be.” Dean gave you a face. “Okay, the first part, yes. Be. But the after– that was— it meant a lot. It gave me something to look forward to. Made me feel like I was doing actual friend things instead of work things. Kind of miss the calls— the check-ins. It was a good part of my routine.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sounded so soft, like a favorite blanket waiting for you on the back of the couch. He was right there spilling his guts out and all you wanted to do was crawl into his lap and tell him it was going to be alright. 

You stayed put.

“Thank you— you’ve been— Christ, I couldn’t have done this without you, you know? You pulled me through— in so many ways.”

“Of course. You’d do the same for any one of us. Hell, you did it for Sam more times than I can count.”

“Yeah, but he’s my kid brother. It’s not the same.”

You hummed. “Yeah, but still. Anytime.”

“Hopefully not too soon.”

You huffed a laugh. “Agreed.”

You stretched and sat up on your knees, groaning at being on the floor for so long. “Okay— well, we’ve got like an hour before we get to the hotel. Do you need anything from me before we get to our rooms?”

Dean shook his head and stood up, quickly leaning down to help you the rest of the way. “I should be good, but yeah, check with Benny for the details. And, please, just watch out for Donna and the girls? They’ll be guarded, but I don’t want them thinking we’re neglecting them while we circle the wagons for our own.”

“On it.”

Dean put his hand on the ball of your shoulder and squeezed. You cupped his forearm and caught his weighted stare. It was like he was looking for something behind your eyes, or something there confused him, but either way he didn’t mention it. Instead, he just squeezed your arm again, gave you a guilty smile, and headed back to the front of the bus.

Charlie was invested in Operation Anti-Fight Club, her words not yours. Once you explained, very briefly, what had been going on, she immediately fell into a rabbit hole online. You even had to drag her out of her hotel room to get her to the venue in time for rehearsal the next morning in preparation for the Phoenix show. 

Somehow, she got sound and lights set up with a new venue in what felt like a flash, but was really two hours of back and forth with the band setting up cues and verifying the setlist. 

So when she started texting you during SPS’ set that night, about your conversation with Dean, you were a little worried she was distracted again.

You didn’t reply. From the moment you told her about Dean’s little heart-to-heart she had been asking leading questions and giving you knowing looks. Too worried she was either teasing you or getting your hopes up over nothing, you tried not to overthink it. Sure, Dean had broken things off with Bela with someone in mind. And it maybe, kinda, sorta seemed like he was waiting for you to do something before he left the bunkroom yesterday. But you could have been reading it all wrong. 

It was an emotional conversation.

It didn’t mean he wanted to kiss you.

Right?

Right.

Except now all you could think about was New Year’s. And how you wished you were sober enough to really remember what Dean’s lips felt like against yours.

You had never let yourself want him, not truly. You couldn’t help loving him, you were only human. But admitting to yourself that you wanted him and wanted him to want you back was a death sentence. There was no hope after that. There was not a chance Dean Winchester could be with you, or even someone like you. 

So why were you letting yourself think about it now?

You weren’t, you decided, and made small talk with Jesse instead. 

“You excited to get some days off at home next week?”

“You know it. I miss ridin’, miss sleepin’ somewhere far enough out, the city lights don’t keep me up.”

You smiled and nodded, you grew up somewhere close enough to the country to know what he meant. “Well, one of these days you’ll have to let us swing by. I’d love to see your land.”

The hulking man looked so fond as he reasoned out an uncertain invitation, “well, Matty keeps the place running while we’re on the road, so I’ll have to ask him how’s it all looking for the whole band to swing by for an afternoon. If not this trip, definitely after the tour.”

“Fine! But I won’t forget you said that.”

He chuckled. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

You turned back to the stage as Jodi wailed on their cover of ‘Crazy on You’. Donna was front and center giving it her all. You were once again mesmerized by their talent. Some people were just unreal, having both beauty and brains, strength and kindness. That old, familiar hollowness inched up your throat and twinged the corners of your eyes. You were surrounded by amazing people and all you could do was hover in their shadows. You were a supporting character, you could never exist at that level.

You were a fool to think you ever could.

SPS was phenomenal and they finished their set to whistles and cheers from both the fans and those of you in the wings. They beamed as they marched off stage, heading back to the dressing rooms for a breather before the main event. You cheered them on, knowing you were doing a bad job of masking the way your thoughts had plummeted. Luckily for you, Jesse was a professional and he said nothing as he ducked away to help with PT’s set up.

You rolled your eyes and punched out an annoyed ‘fine’ in the chat. You didn’t want to think about Dean singing about somebody at that moment. What you wanted was a stiff drink and maybe a foot massage. You thought about pulling up your hotel’s amenities, but were caught off guard by Sam and Kevin bellowing your name like a pair of foghorns.

“TROUBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEEE.”

“TRRRRRRRRRRROUBLLE!”

You turned while still looking down at your phone. “Uh, what’s up?” 

But as you glanced up, you got silly string-ed straight to the face. 

“MOTHER FUCKERS!” That had you spitting out air because the foamy substance had grazed your lips. Yuck! With one eye open you charged the overgrown idiots, forcing them to run behind the closest obstacles, gear cases and Benny, respectively.

Benny muttered over his shoulder to a crouching Kevin, “it’s your funeral, cher.”

“Thanks, Benny,” you huffed out as you dodged around the head of security and almost had a hand on Kevin’s collar. “You little shit!”

Kevin cackled as he ran away, too worried about busting your shit in your concert heels, you watched him go. Sam was smart enough to leave quietly amongst the fray, but you promised yourself some revenge down the line. You even knew who you could enlist for help, the last person they would ever expect…

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

@tldix

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 28

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 4739

Warnings: Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, longing, Fluff.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 28

The garage was filled with the familiar sounds of tools clanking, engines humming, and the scent of motor oil lingering in the air. Bobby and John were tinkering with a car on the far end, Garth was talking to Jack about a custom part, and Jodi and Ellen were off to the side, sipping coffee. Dean pulled the Impala into the yard as you looked out the window, the sun almost high in the sky. God, you both had missed the place so much over the past few months, but it hadn’t changed at all.

Dean glanced over at you as he parked the Impala. You ready for this? The words echoed softly in your mind, his voice clear, but softened by a hint of concern. He knew how hard it had been at Crowley's when you were around a lot of people, and this was a lot of people, even if you did know them all.

I think so. You thought, offering him a small smile. The emotions around you were already swirling—Bobby’s concentration, John’s mild frustration, Garth’s excitement—but it was Dean’s presence that grounded you, his calm determination a constant comfort.

As you both stepped out of the car, you felt a shift. Benny had just arrived, and you could sense the excitement radiating from him, a ripple of something deeper… anticipation? He’d had it that morning when he brought Dean’s Baby to your house so Dean could take you to breakfast.

Dean felt some of the emotions trickle through the connection with you as he put his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close. Taking a shaky breath, the two of you headed inside as a cacophony of greetings ensued. Everyone except Cas knew what was about to happen. At least being close to Dean helped block out some of the emotions the others were feeling.

The moment Benny and Meg stepped into the garage, there was silence. Cas not only looked confused, but you could feel it from him. All eyes turned to the two. When Cas’s eyes fell on Meg, you felt it, the moment that connection happened for the two, and you almost couldn’t hold back the tears. It reminded you of the first time you truly looked at Dean, back at Crowley’s, and had let him in. Cas watched her like she was the first light in a dark room—confusion and awe mixing together, despite his usually stoic demeanor. Meg glanced around, her eyes landing on Cas as if drawn by some unseen force. Her smirk faltered for just a second, replaced by something softer—vulnerability? You felt the flash of it, the hesitation in her step. But then, she was Meg again, mask up, all sharp edges and sarcasm.

“Well, would you look at this bunch of misfits,” Meg quipped, crossing her arms. “Didn’t know this was a family reunion.” Her tone was playful, but her eyes kept drifting back to Cas, like she was trying to figure out if it really was him, his name that was on her body, her soulmate.

Cas stepped forward, his movements cautious, but deliberate. “Meg…” His voice was deeper than usual, quieter, and it carried the weight of something he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to say out loud. Meg was a common name, typically short for Meggan. But the name that had appeared on him when he was sixteen was Meg. 

Meg raised an eyebrow, the tension between them palpable. “You gonna stare all day, Clarence, or are you gonna say something profound?”

You could feel it between the two of them. They felt that pull toward each other, but they were both being cautious, not wanting to hope too hard or move too fast. It reminded you of yourself, months ago, with Dean. Even now you couldn’t seem to move faster with him, and you still hadn’t given him an answer to being his girlfriend.

Before Cas could respond, Dean snorted, breaking the tension. “Cas, man, you gotta work on your opening lines.” You elbowed him lightly, sending him a playful thought. And you’re the expert on first impressions?

Dean grinned, but you felt the warmth beneath his teasing—a silent admiration for Cas’s vulnerability in that moment. Hey, I’m charming. You know that, he replied through your bond.

Cas finally spoke, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “I’ve been… waiting to meet you.” His blue eyes locked onto Meg’s, and you could feel the deep connections beginning to knit itself together between the two. It was like watching two puzzle pieces finally snap into place.

Meg opened her mouth, probably ready to throw out another sarcastic comment, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just stared at him, her defenses lowering for the briefest moments.

You caught her emotions—a mix of disbelief, fear, and, deep down, a flicker of hope. It mirrored Cas’s own uncertainty, the vulnerability they both seemed reluctant to show.

Dean’s hand brushed against yours, grounding you as you absorbed the waves of emotions in the room. All eyes were on the two, a quiet hum of hope traveled between them. Benny cleared his throat, stepping closer. “Figured you two needed to at least meet each other. We met her in Cali. She rescued Y/N.” 

Jodi leaned over to Ellen, her voice low but audible. “Think we’re gonna need more coffee.” Ellen only nodded, a soft smile on her lips, seeing the two try to feel each other out without either of them saying too much. 

It had gone better than you had hoped for. You hadn’t gotten to interact much with Meg back in Cali during your ordeal, but seeing and feeling the two of them now, made you smile as you leaned against Dean. He instinctively put his arm around you and held you close. They’re kinda cute together, Dean’s whispered words making you smile.

Pretty sure Benny said something similar about us, you thought back to him before he kissed the top of your head, both of you remembering back to that first night in the safe house.

“Alright, everybody back to work,” John piped in, breaking the silence, but also wanting to give the two a few moments to themselves. “Cas, you can take the afternoon off, if you want. Get to know her,” he added, clapping Bobby on the shoulder before returning to the car the two had been working on.

Everyone went off to do their own thing, leaving the two where they’d been standing, just staring at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Would you two go have a few beers and relax,” Ellen hollered, her voice carrying that soft undertone of affection as she smiled.

Cas couldn’t stop the smile that found his lips. “Would… would you like to-” he began, albeit nervously, but Meg cut him off.

“Come on, Clarence. I’ll drive,” Meg sassed playfully, a smirk toying at her lips. She wasn’t about to admit anything or just let him in. Her life had been hard, and the idea of having normal scared her.

You chuckled a little at the pet name she’d given him but didn’t say anything as the two left. The familiar sounds of cars being worked on brought a wave of comfort that washed over you. I missed this place. Me too, Sweetheart. 

Before you could look up at him, Bobby approached the two of you. He typically didn’t let his emotions show, but seeing the two of you finally together, made him smile in a way that even his eyes conveyed his happiness. “You two take the time you need. Don’t feel like you’ve got to get back to work right away. You’ve both been through hell,” he told the two of you, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

“Thanks, Bobby. But, I need to make a phone call. Can you keep her company?” Dean replied, kissing the top of your head before he wandered into the office. He had to call Sam and tell him about your premonition.

Your stomach twisted a little when he walked away, but you took a deep breath. There were plenty of people here, and Cole was in jail at the moment. So, you pushed the worry away, for now. “What’s going on?” Ellen asked, now standing next to you, having seen the worry flash across your expression. With a sigh, you looked up at her, trying to ground yourself from the waves of emotions that kept crashing through you, not all of them yours. “I had a nightmare last night. Dean said I have premonitions. I’m pretty sure he has to call Sam and Crowley because it was about Cole.” It was hard to say even that much, and you knew there was no way you could recount the details of it to any of them.

I’m almost done, Sweetheart. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

His whispered words helped you take a shaky breath as you attempted to calm your nerves again. That was about when Jodi pipped in. “Before we had left Cali, Crowley had mentioned something about getting you on the registrar for empaths with premonitions. That way, if you have them, someone can do something about it,” she offered with that soft smile that helped you relax just a little bit more.

The idea of being on that sort of list was a new concept. Although, most of the stuff having to do with empaths and premonitions was new to you. Seeing the confusion on your face, Jodi continued, “Crowley said that if you had any dreams that involved the Vaughts or their associates, whether you were awake or asleep, that you should call him.”

That was when Dean came up behind you, putting his arms around your waist. His touch melted the tension in your shoulders away as you leaned against him. “So, we gotta call Crowley later. Sam said he’s busy right now. Something about a register, or something,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder, gently.

“Can we just go home?” you asked quietly, needing not only the quiet but also the solitude. Other people’s emotions were still a lot, and you hadn’t figured out how to block them out when you needed a break.

Dean smiled a little at how you had worded that, home, like it was both of your home and not just yours. “Yeah, we can go home, Sweetheart,” he replied softly, gently giving you a squeeze.

The two of you said your goodbyes before he drove back to your place. He wanted to ask you things, but he could tell that right now, you didn’t need that on top of what was going through your head. He did hold your hand while he drove, trying to help ground you in the moment and shut out the things circling your mind.

After parking in the garage, he made sure to lock the garage door before following you down to the bunker. At least you felt safe enough there to relax. He just wasn’t sure how long it would take before you felt safe again, safe enough to at least live in the regular part of the house.

“Movie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow after he slipped off his shoes, but you just shrugged.

It was like your nightmare was playing on repeat since you’d brought it up earlier, and you couldn’t make it stop. Not even being close to Dean had helped, and now, not even being in the bunker was helping. He felt all of it- your turmoil, fear, and anxiety as you just stood in the middle of the l living room, lost in your thoughts.

For a moment, he just watched you, debating what would be the best way to help get your mind to focus on something else, literally anything else. And with that, he walked over and scooped you up in his arms, making you squeal in surprise as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold on.

“That’s cheating,” you protested, but deep down, you were grateful he’d surprised you the way he had.

“And I’ll cheat every day if it means you’ll smile,” he smirked as he carried you to your room.

You felt the blush warm your cheeks, lying your head against his chest, focusing on calming your breathing again. You let his emotions wash over you like a soft blanket on a cold winter’s day, soothing the worry that had been coursing through you only moments ago. Dean felt a wave of relief when he felt the tension slowly ease out of your body before he gently set you down on the edge of your bed.

“You’re really sweet, you know that,” you told him as he went to your dresser to pull out something comfortable for you to wear.

“Only for you, Sweetheart,” he chuckled.

His words made you smile as you slipped off your shoes, using your feet so you didn’t have to use your hands. After Dean turned around, his eyes followed your shoes as you kicked them toward your door, chuckling again, “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

“Are you gonna be a tease again?” you asked, tilting your head a bit, looking up at him. But, instead of answering you, he just smirked as he stopped directly in front of you. Seeing the glint of playfulness in his eyes, you already knew what the answer was. Of course, he was going to be a tease. Your thoughts made his smirk grow, but it was slowly turning into a grin that almost went to his eyes. Dean was gentle, like he had been before, and he did tease you, just as he had last time. But, your thoughts weren’t on your current problems; they were on Dean.

“I love it when you think about me like that,” he whispered after scooping you into his arms again, making you blush.

He got you comfortable on the couch while he set up one of your favorite movies before snuggling up with you. Phone calls could wait. You needed to relax, and that was all he cared about. Dean had already made plans for the evening. He just hoped he could keep you relaxed with everything going on.

Sometime near six, Dean headed upstairs to meet Benny by the garage door. “Thanks, man. I just didn’t want to leave her alone, and it’s not like she was in a space to hit a grocery store earlier,” he told Benny gratefully as he began grabbing the bags from Benny’s car.

“No prob. She doing any better?” Benny asked, helping Dean with the bags.

He sighed as he met Benny’s gaze, “It’s a lot for her. I’ve just been trying to keep her distracted from it all for now.” Dean glanced at the secret door that he’d left cracked, so you wouldn’t need to go up there. “She’s scared, Benny. Scared that monster is going to kill me so he can still use her.” 

Benny glanced in the direction Dean was looking for a moment, then grabbed another bag out of his car. “At least she’s got you, and that bunker.”

“She can’t live down there forever, Benny,” Dean replied, focusing on debating how he’d get all the bags down there in one trip. “I even called Crowley and told him about her premonition. He’s still trying to get her name on the register thing. It’s taking longer because of how old she is, and she’s just now having them.”

“Want some help?” Benny asked, seeing the debate going through Dean’s head, while also hiding his concern for you.

“No. She hasn’t figured out how to block out other people’s emotions yet. We’re supposed to go see Pamela in a couple days. Bobby said she could help her,” Dean replied absentmindedly as he began grabbing bags, then realized he needed to lock up before he headed down there. “Oh, how’d it go with Cas and Meg?” 

Benny almost laughed, thinking back. “Haven’t seen em’ since they left for the bar. Guess he ain’t comin’ in tomorrow either. He told Bobby something about spending the night, getting to know her better.”

Dean pictured the two of them in his head, chuckling a little. “She’s gonna eat him alive, and he’s gonna love every second of it. That girls something else.”

With that, they said their goodbyes before Dean locked up the garage. Then he loaded the bags on his arms, stubborn to take them all in one trip. You’d stayed seated on the couch, just watching the open door and focusing on the connection between the two of you. Some of his thoughts drifted through your mind, mostly just the reassurance that he was okay.

When you saw him with nearly ten bags hanging off his arms, you stood to help him, but he just looked at you. “Not with your wrists still hurting,” he told you, but it was out of his love for you that he wasn’t letting you help.

You grumbled, closed the door, and followed him into the kitchen, curious about what he had Benny bring by. Most of it was necessities to restock the fridge. Then there were the other things: pie, beer, some chocolate, and dinner, which was burritos from the diner wrapped in foil to keep them warm.

He did at least let you help put some of the lighter things away, watching to make sure you didn’t push it. At least your feet hadn’t been bothering you, but all the bandages would need to be changed soon, to make sure nothing got infected.

“How about one more movie, dinner, a couple beers, and then we go cuddle up for the night?” he offered with that soft smile, making your heart melt again.

“Only if you put on something comfortable first,” you replied softly, heading into the living room again to get comfortable on the couch. You knew he wasn’t going to let you help. He wanted you to heal, and there was no point in arguing with him.

The way your hips swayed as you walked made Dean bite his bottom lip; thoughts of playfully tackling you onto the couch while you laughed, pinned under him, played through his mind. You shot him a knowing look as he stifled his laughter and attempted to focus on getting a pair of sweats and a shirt out of his bag instead of you.

You wondered if you could wait until his birthday, which was just under a week away, especially with how he affected you. It was one thing to have your own fantasies play out in your head, but to hear his thoughts of what he wanted to do… Well, those were intense. He had plenty of experience, and you had none. That thought made your brain go down a whole different tangent while he changed.

He sighed as he slipped on his shirt, then rejoined you in the living room. “I don’t care that you don’t have any experience. So, stop thinking like that,” he told you, tossing his clothes onto his bag before sitting next to you.

Not being able to hide things from him like you used to sucked a little, but the way he reassured you made it all worth it. Dean pulled you against him with one arm while gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. There was nothing in his eyes or emotions that said anything to contradict what he’d said.

For a moment, his breath hitched in his chest when your eyes met his. The apprehension, trust, adoration, and something else… anticipation made his heart skip a beat. He could easily get lost in your eyes. Dean absentmindedly licked his lips, your eyes darting to the movement and your thoughts to how his lips had felt against yours before meeting his gaze again.

“I told you, when you’re ready,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips to your forehead, then pressed play on the movie.

God, kissing your forehead and not your lips had been almost impossible, and now he was almost regretting choosing to wear sweats with no boxers. The way your lips had parted brought too many sinful thoughts to his mind, his body responding in ways he was now trying to stop. At least the movie didn’t have any adult scenes, as it was more of a kid movie, but one of your favorites.

It took him almost a half hour to calm his body down before he risked getting up to retrieve dinner, which was still quite warm, wrapped in foil. He managed to get you laughing during dinner while the two of you had a couple beers. Not only seeing but also feeling you relax allowed him to relax. For now, the books from Crowley had been left forgotten on the far end of the coffee table. And for now, things felt normal between the two of you, like there wasn’t anything else to worry about except each other.

After dinner, Dean grabbed the medical supplies from the bathroom, making you prop your feet up on the coffee table. You had tried to tell him that you could do it, but he had insisted, wanting to take care of you. Hearing him beg in your mind with his thoughts melted your heart, so you had relented.

Watching the care he took, his touches gentle, even with having to peel back the tape stuck to your skin that held the old bandages in place. You were too focused on him. The way his eyes focused on his task. The tenderness in them and his touch were heartwarming. 

I really do love it when you watch me. His thought made him smile a little without looking up at you. Dean still felt guilty that you’d gotten hurt when you got kidnapped, but the softness of your emotions always soothed those emotions in him when they surfaced. 

You tilted your head a bit, a small smile toying with the corners of your lips. It’s peaceful. It was the only way you could describe the feeling that watching him brought you. The way his emotions mixed with yours in an almost dance within you really was peaceful. Well, as long as neither of you were trying to soothe the other over your own feelings. That was when it felt complicated and more like a strange storm.

Once he slipped a pair of socks on your feet, he began cleaning up, but his mind was elsewhere. He let cuddling with you be at the forefront of his mind, so that was all you could pick up on. In the back of his mind, though, he was worried that he couldn’t keep the nightmares at bay anymore. Dean felt your eyes on him as you helped clean up the trash from dinner, and when you went into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but look over at you.

He watched the way your hips swayed as you made your way across the kitchen, a smile toying at his lips, enjoying the sight of you while simultaneously terrified that Cole would actually come after you. 

Just like you tell me, worrying about it won’t change it or make it go away. You thought to him, meeting his gaze after you threw away the trash, that compassionate smile on your lips again. Dean sighed, then shook his head a little in amusement.

“No fair using my own words against me,” he scoffed, but it was playful.

You giggled, letting the way his emotions danced with yours calm your nerves again. What was the point in worrying now, in this moment? Being in the bunker, the only way in was through the secret doors, and you had the key. “Come on, handsome. Let’s get some sleep,” the tenderness of your words helped him relax again.

Snaking his arms around your waist, he pulled you close again. He wasn’t sure what to say, though. He wanted to thank you, but that didn’t seem quite right. You felt him sigh, letting out one of your own. “Look, if I have a nightmare, I know you’ll be there when I wake up. We’re safe down here. He can’t get in. So, let’s try to enjoy whatever time we have, please,” you told him softly, your head resting on his chest.

The way your emotions flowed through the connection and washed over him in soft waves soothed the tension that he hadn’t even realized had settled into his muscles. “Alright, Sweetheart. Let’s get some sleep then,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

Before you could pull away, he scooped you into his arms, making you squeal in that delightful way. He had needed it, to hear and feel your joy, and he held onto it. It helped keep those troublesome thoughts from sneaking back to the forefront of his mind. The way you felt in his arms, the warmth of your body, the softness of your hand on his chest, it all was a balm to his troubled mind.

You watched him, loving how his arms felt around you, even when he carried you. Part of you would miss this after your feet healed, so you were determined to commit it all to memory. Gingerly, you reached up and cupped his cheek, gently rubbing your thumb over his jawline. Dean almost froze, now halfway between your bedroom door and the bed, and looked down at you. The softness of your touch matched the look in your eyes, making his breath hitch in his chest and his lips part. If only you knew what you did to him. It only got worse when you tilted your head the way you did when you got curious or confused, which brought a smile to his lips.

“What?” you asked, not quite sure how to describe or understand what he was feeling.

The smile that found his lips brightened his entire expression. “Sweetheart, I love you.” Those were the only words he found that said it, the feeling he couldn’t describe, even if it felt so much stronger and yet so much softer.

You ducked your head a little, blushing, “I love you too, Dean,” you replied a little shyly, then bit your bottom lip.

Dean took a breath, then had to shake the thoughts from his mind. He set you down on the edge of the bed, forcing himself to focus on just getting the two of you into bed, cuddling. But his mind wasn’t about to be of any help with that. Feeling your eyes on him, knowing you were still blushing a little and that you were only in a shirt, gave his mind what it needed to let the fantasies begin toying with his thoughts.

It wasn’t your intention to turn him on. You honestly just wanted to be close to him. You just didn’t fully understand the depth of what your soul was needing, nearly craving with him. Again, you wanted to apologize, even opened your mouth, but quickly closed it and deliberately didn’t think the word. 

His movements were fluid as he turned down the blankets before looking back at you, and he wished he hadn’t. He could see the longing, the need in your eyes, knowing exactly what you were trying to understand. With a sigh, he helped you onto the side you’d claimed as yours before he slid under the covers on the other side.

Tonight, he didn’t have to ask; you just scooted over and snuggled up against him, his arm around you, pulling you closer. You didn’t know how to ask him what you were feeling, since you didn’t even know how to describe the feeling. So, instead, you focused on the comfort of his embrace, the warmth of his body, and the steady rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat.

Dean had his suspicions of what you were feeling, but he didn’t want to talk about a topic he didn’t fully understand. As your breathing evened out, he began relaxing, letting your closeness comfort his soul so he, too, could drift off to sleep. He was just praying that you wouldn’t have another nightmare. The one thing he was praying for was that you could find and have some peace, without the looming possibility of a threat, and the fear in you would subside.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 29

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi! I’ve been trying to find some good omega!cas fics, would you be able to recommend any? I’ve done some of my own searching, but I can always count on your reviews so wanted to check!

Hey! I hope you were looking for a long list because we got a little carried away with this lol

A Baby for Christmas by DyslexicSquirrel (Explicit, 11k words)

Dean Winchester finds a list of all the Eligible Alphas in town when he’s fixing Castiel Novak’s car and the fact that he’s not on it surprises him more than it should. He’s been pining for Castiel since he showed up in Oak Grove alone and pregnant, but Castiel never gave him, or any other alpha, the time of day. Now he’s on the hunt for a mate. Can he come up with a plan to make Castiel realize he’s the perfect alpha for him and make both their Christmas wishes come true?

A Little Grace by tricia_16 (Explicit, 99k words)

Castiel is well aware that a handsome, surprisingly gentle alpha like Dean was way out of his league even before he made the decision to become a single parent. Dean's been kicking himself for blowing his shot with Cas before he could even ask for it, and now Cas is happily taken (and adorably pregnant) by an alpha who doesn't deserve him. Neither one of them could have guessed that Castiel's baby would be what brings them together, but it turns out that a little Grace goes a long way.

All That's Best of Dark and Bright by orphan_account (Explicit, 21k words)

Dean Winchester is an alpha cop. He's got a soft spot for omegas with kids and a short fuse when it comes to people hurting them. When he signs in for his shift, his first call is to a break-in in a well to do suburban neighborhood. He meets Castiel Novak and his young son, Alfie. Someone has broken in to Castiel's house and scent marked. Castiel is unwilling to offer much information about himself or his life. Dean's happy not to push, but his partner Benny thinks that Castiel might know more about who broke into his house than he's willing to admit. As Dean tries to get Castiel to open up to him, he finds himself drawn to the omega. But Castiel has to be mated, right? He already has a kid. Or at least, that's what Dean believes.

At a glance by Nachsie (Explicit, 44k words)

The first time Castiel laid his eyes on Dean Winchester, he couldn't comprehend two things about him. One, why this incredibly handsome man was smiling at him asking to borrow his drink...and Two? Why he immediately smashed Castiel's drink into another man's face? Whoever said love was dead, never met Dean Winchester.

Decadent by Redamber79 (Explicit, 36k words)

Dean is the owner of Glads n Roses, where he specializes in unique flowers and bouquets, particularly in flower language. He also sells chocolates on the side. When Decadently Yours, a chocolate shop, opens across the street, Dean sees it as challenging his business. It doesn't take long however, before they strike up a deal to sell the new business' chocolates in the shop, and then he begins to fall for the Beta Castiel, even though he knows he's involved with the Alpha Gabriel, though not mated. As Dean and Cas get closer, he discovers something else. Cas is actually an Omega, with the sweetest scent under his blockers. But Dean refuses to poach, and as long as Cas is with Gabriel, he won't make a move. Life, however, has something else in mind.

Expectations by everandanon (Explicit, 418k words)

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside. Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for. Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return. But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it: They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

Friends Helping Friends (Telling Me What My Heart Meant) by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 6k words)

Dean and Cas have known each other for about a year now, and in that time, Cas has never gone into heat. So far.

Following His Lead by InvictaAnimi (Explicit, 98k words)

Peak alpha, Dean Winchester, has the perfect life on paper. He owns his own architecture firm, is building a real estate empire, and has the choice of just about any omega partner that catches his eye. A fateful flight to London changes everything for Dean when he finds his true mate, the intrepid freelance photographer, Cas. Cas is gorgeous, brilliant, competitive, and driven. He’s everything that Dean could have hoped for. He’s also keeping secrets from him. Once they find each other, they must remain close until they mate or suffer from the debilitating and painful mating sickness. It wouldn’t be a problem if his mate would stay put, but Dean finds himself chasing his omega throughout Europe, using only the clues his mate leaves him. Dean must choose between his old life and this stranger, his career and his future mate. As an alpha, he is used to being a leader, the one in charge. To be with Cas, though, he’s going to have to follow his lead.

Head Down, Walk with Reason by goldenraeofsun (Explicit, 63k words)

As an omega, Castiel is ineligible for the throne after his father dies. When his uncle takes the crown, Metatron's first order of business is to arrange a betrothal with King John for the hand of his firstborn son, the Crown Prince of Terra. So Castiel flees. On his first night on the run, Castiel stumbles into a band of outlaws just at the border. Injured and wary, he has no choice to stay with them. And although he had planned to return to his own kingdom once it was safe, home might not be the place he left, but instead with Dean, their alpha leader that took him in.

Homemade by saltnhalo (Teen and Up, 5k words)

Dean Winchester, a successful but perpetually overworked and overtired engineer, meets chef and restaurant owner Castiel, his new neighbor. Castiel courts him in the form of homemade meals in Tupperware containers and handwritten notes, and Dean eventually takes it upon himself to return the favor.

In the woods by MalicMalic (Mature, 28k words)

All Castiel wants is to lead a simple life, away from the high society and his controling alpha mother. One chance encounter in the woods makes him believe that dreams just might come true, until life decides to make things complicated for Castiel. As he tries to save himself and his future, he doesn't realize that the solution to all his problems was just around the corner.

Lonicera by zation (Explicit, 46k words)

The one where destiny had a discussion with faith and they decided to have some fun, much to Dean and Cas’ chagrin.

Looking for: Alpha to Match Swimsuit by SillyBlue (Mature, 70k words)

Cas is 44, has a distant husband, a crappy job, and his only child is leaving for college. He plans to distract himself with a beach vacation for which his son and niece convince him to buy a cute swimsuit. But his husband decides he won't "let" him go to the beach dressed like that; a man his age in a bikini? Cas decides to keep the swimsuit - he can easily add "divorced" to the list of things to be sad about during his vacation after all. Claire and Jack decide to intervene by secretly creating a dating profile for one purpose: to look for a man that matches Cas' swimsuit. The unusual profile attracts Dean, who decided to combat his impending midlife crisis by taking some weeks off of work and buying beach wear that he had every intention of banishing to the back of his closet once it arrives. Lucky for him this has provided him with the perfect speedos to match Cas' swimsuit.

No Righteous Path by jupiter_james (Explicit, 111k)

On his 40th birthday, Dean Winchester suddenly begins to worry that he may have lost his chance for a real mate. He's been so focused on his business as a 24-hour roofing and repairman, that he's never taken the time to date properly, or even make any lasting friendships outside of his family. Beginning in their late 30's, alphas and omegas start to lose their mating and bonding hormones, making it more difficult - and often impossible - to mate or bond with anyone past a certain age. But as a modern Alpha, Dean would be content with a companion, at least. Blood bonds aren't the be-all, end-all. However, after a late night emergency roofing repair call from Castiel Novak, Omega, Dean starts to hope. Yearn. The only hangup is that Castiel admits to being as old-fashioned as the books he teaches. Nervous to go against his religious upbringing by being with someone who he can't bond properly, as alphas and omegas are intended to do. But he can't deny his attraction to Dean, and despite his sensibilities, he thinks that, just maybe, he can change for the man he's falling in love with.

Ready To Run by CrzyDemona (EvelynRaith), Inkblooded_Witch (Explicit, 117k words)

Castiel and Jimmy have always been close, on opposite sides of a single coin. While Jimmy’s rebellions have been loud, blatantly throwing every indiscretion in their father’s face, Castiel’s have been quiet, easier to hide, less publicly embarrassing. For this reason it’s no surprise when Jimmy is slated to be married off first. Something they’re informed of right as he has decided he wants to marry Balthazar, an Alpha he’s been courting on the sly for some time. Neither of them have been optimistic about their fates should they be left to their father’s tender mercies. Castiel knows that once Jimmy is gone, he will be next. He likes Balthazar, and sees no reason why they should both be condemned, so they hatch a plan. While Jimmy elopes and boards a steamer to Europe, Castiel boards a train to Nebraska as his twin. Knowing your life will never be the same is one thing, but Castiel never could have predicted what chaos would come of him getting on that train. Starting when plans to slip away before he reaches his intended destination quickly go awry.

real alpha by sharkfish (Explicit, 14k words)

Castiel has used Real Alpha since he was old enough to afford it. They’re a reputable company, and have never disappointed: every few months, Castiel calls in to an automated system to make his request, and within hours, there’s an alpha knocking on his door to fuck the heat out of him. He doesn’t care who it is, what they look like, how much stamina they have, whether they are angels or humans. It’s just an ends to a mean.

Refugee by RachaelLikesYaoi (Explicit, 123k words)

Dean Winchester was used to his brother bringing home omegas from work. They were all basically the same. Quiet, reserved, and... haunted. It made sense, Sam worked for a strictly omega lawyer that dealt with all sorts of different cases. It never really bothered Dean when they were brought home. They fixed up their guest room, replaced a couple of locks, and more often than not he wouldn't even see the omegas. It was easy. A piece of cake. Then Sam told Dean over dinner one night that one of his clients would be living with them for a year to complete his house arrest. A whole year, and no matter how many times his brother told Dean that the guy was harmless, Dean couldn't forget about what the omega had gotten arrested for. Assault. With a deadly weapon.

Roots of Fate by orphan_account (Explicit, 40k words)

Castiel Novak leads a quiet life in the little town of Fairhope. He tends his gardens and takes pride in filling his great-grandmother's footsteps as the town's honorary green witch. His quiet life comes to a halt when he gets a new neighbor and it's none other than the alpha of his dreams and high school crush, Dean Winchester. But Dean's not alone, he has a daughter now. Overnight, Fairhope is flipped on its head as every available omega and beta in town fights for the alpha's attention. Cas tries to help as best he can but Dean eventually comes up with his own solution and that's when the posters show up. Posters that claim that Dean Winchester is looking for a mate. But to win, you have to get a key from a certain orange cat. Let the games begin!

Running with the Wolves by Dancingdog (Explicit, 381k words)

Castiel made one mistake and it landed him with a child. Knowing his brothers would never accept an unmated omega with a child, Castiel chose not to tell his family about Samandriel for six years. But Michael found out anyway and Castiel soon finds himself on the run from his furious family. To save both his and his son's lives, he flees into the wilderness, where the 'wild folk' reside and they must learn to live as wolves rather than humans if they are to survive. Except, the wild folk are not the savages Castiel was led to believe whilst growing up, and he finds that maybe being a member of Dean's pack isn't so terrible afterall. Then his brother, Gabriel, shows up and takes an interest in Dean's omega brother, Sam. The problem? The Winchesters and Novaks have been enemies for centuries.

Scent Deprived by Destielshipper4Cas (Explicit, 41k words)

Dean rescues an omega from an illegal research facility. But after years of scent deprivation, the omega is catatonic at best and on the brink of going feral at worst. Now it’s up to Dean to save him. In order to break past Cas’ defenses, he might just have to let him into his home and heart in return.

The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)

Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

Undercover Boyfriend by CassondraWinchester (Explicit, 60k words)

Two men, one lie, and a whole bunch of trouble. Castiel Novak’s in serious trouble. His sister’s destination wedding in Mexico filled with several days of activities, is in only two days. And everyone expects to meet his underwear model Alpha boyfriend — the one he invented. Now Cas has to produce a half-naked hottie or suffer the worst humiliation of his life. But Cas just doesn’t date those kinda guys! Or even know any for that matter. Undercover FBI agent Dean Winchester’s cover is blown and he needs to disappear fast. When he ducks into a bar he runs into Castiel, a comic book artist, one very hot, but geeky Omega. And as luck would have it he just happens to be looking for an Alpha. Could they be the solution to both their problems? Or will trouble find them on the sandy beaches of Mexico?

You can also check our omega!castiel tag for more fics.

[buckevantommy]

alternate take on the whole saltommy thing: what if sal was holding a torch for tommy for years? meanwhile tommy has no idea, and while tommy thinks sal is objectively hot and a good friend and a decent guy outside of the firehouse bs, he would never act on his desire or the potential for something between them because they're friends and they work together and also it's just not safe to be out at the time, so he tamps it down until other guys catch his eye and never clocks sal's interest.

then we get bobby in and sal being transferred: we think of tommy transferring to the 217 as his chance to have a truly fresh start and come out of the closet, but what if sal considered leaving the 118 as his own fresh start not just for bobby helping set him on the path to captaincy but also because he was no longer working with tommy everyday so while he misses the guy he appreciates the space to get over him and move on and find someone who wants him back.

cut to present day: tommy and evan have been happily dating for months when tommy and sal catch up and tommy finds out sal is bi and also had a thing for him back in the day (he's over him now, mostly reminds me of benny pining after dean). and tommy bluescreens because what? they totally could've hooked up, or had something between them??

bonus: tommy tells evan about this to which evan exclaims: that's what it's like! the not realising at the time! all the wasted opportunities you didn't know were possible!

[fatallyaddictedtofiction]

Im just gonna allow myself to yap about supernatural and see where destiny takes me. SIDENOTE IF U WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS WITH ME LITERALLY PLEASE I WANT TO PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME.

Okay first of all im starting with the start (s1+2). BEST LIGHTING TO MOOD EVER EVER EVER. Like you want dark scary monsters??? ITS THERE. I remember there being a reason they changed the lighting (smugly: yes i listen to the podcast) but i CANT REMEMBER. The characterisation of the macho eldest son coded scared eldest daughter Dean is unreal and parallel in epicness to repressed queer allegory something is inherently wrong with him little brother. The brief moments of emotional vulnerability. Dont get me STARTED on Dean's monologue in the s2 finale i'll start crying. It's crazy how rude john is to Dean like excuse me he raised your kid and now ur bitching about him? Try saying thank you for once. I think the only reason john actually said im proud of you was because he realised when azazel said it dean was like "ur not my dad" and to john it was a little "oh shit" moment. Sam has every right to be angry but every time he gets angry at dean something in me shatters a little because deans trying so hard for himself and sam and sam doesnt know who or how to lash out (emotional dysregulation baybee) so aims for deans jugular like nooo honeyyyy noooooo. This era was the best sam in my opinion.

Rest of the show down here:

Onto S3-5. Cant remember jack about season 3. Season 4 CASTIEL MY BELOVED MY LIGHT MY LIFE MY REASON FOR LIVING. Absolutely loved everything about Weird Cas and i wanted more of him why did they have to domesticate him. His and Deans dynamic was impeccable and yk something??? I wanted to see Dean in hell torturing people i wanted to see it on his face how much he hated that he enjoyed it and i wanted to see Cas' face at watching the righteous man lose. Like the best we got was Yellow Fever GOD I LOVED THAT bit when he was hallucinating the book and it said "you gonna cry?" Like so many people think thats a funny episode but it makes me so sad because he is DYING and from such a young age hes been told to stow it away, lock it down to the point hes HALLUCINATING IT. Cas falling for dean. Im sorry i just. They are the best love story. LUCIFER. He was scarier back then, but i do love later seasons lucy too. Something about the peeling skin and the "we will always end up right here" just slapped. ENDVERSE EPSIODE god so good can we just take a moment to think about it. Okay cool thanks okay. Demon blood Sam arc was fun but had unfulfilled potential. Cant give you specifcs rn its late and my brain needs to get this all out so if you know you know. The whole meta stuff with Chuck was eh until he was confirmed as god and then i was like duuude the faint strings of marionettes are glistening in the sunrise like how do we know --- im getting ahead of myself.

S6-11. I know, its a big chunk. But basically the whole thing could be renamed "Crowley's unrequited love story". Cas and crowley were the best duo i almost forgot like they are genuinely so funny together and i bet it would be great to be tortured by them UMM THE BETRAYAL i honestly loved Cas' episode the only thing i didn't like was how the reveal itself was done like... Idk just a bit... Kryptonite???? Anywho i Loved the tension between Dean and Cas DEAN LOOKED BACK. Um leviathans were my favourite monster but they became so dumbbbb after washing up liquid killed them. BOBBYS EPISODE ALWAYS MAKES ME SOB MY EYES OUT "i raised two boys and they became heroes" allow me to DIE. Also damn impressed a shot to the head didnt take him down but it was lovely to see Deans first world, first solid rock properly crumble around him (forgetting john okay he wasnt a healthy rock) . PURGATORY DEAN JDJSJDJDJD kill me please his fight or flight mode was SO. So sad we didnt get more of purgatory like i would pay to see more i would kill probably but we'll overlook that. Benny my beloved. They definitely all got together Cas included like who wouldnt at that point. Smth i didnt like is how wheneer they went back to purgatory, unlike how dean described it "360 battle 24/7" or some shit like that it was EMPTY. Like please,, i know the plot needs convenience BUT PURGATORY ISNT SUPPOSED TO BE CONVENIENT. But dean recrafting his own memories to make himself believe that he failed to save Cas rather than what he perceived as Cas giving up on him- hang on i dropped my jaw somewhere, gimme a sec i need to go find it-- LIKE. HHHH. The whole mind control shit going on with Cas because his ties to Dean had been severed (saw a post about that and loved it but cant rmb it) and HIM BEING THE ONE TO BREAK IT. The crypt scene mmmm i love. Want more. Mark of Cain dean was literally my favourite. A violent, mentally unstable man who also has bad mental health and is often covered in blood? Yes pls. Cas being with him every step of the way. I havent mentioned Sam in a while. Hes just kind of been there. Hate that he slowly became 2D. Far away in the background hes got his worried expression and is rocking, saying "Dean? Dean? Cas? Jack? Dean?" Like writers why did u strip his personality except for worry. Do Not get me started on the whole Amelia thing ill stab someone. But yeah cas saying he'll watch dean murder the world is my universe :). If someone said that to me id say "omg really?" And develop a huge fat crush (somehow). CHARLIE DYING WAS AN ABOMINATION When they brought back Eileen why not charlie like. Dont bring characters back at this point because theres all sorts of issues grr. Amara was cool af but i didnt like the whole amara x dean stuff because it was just weird. Luciferrrrr hes so girlypop i love him DEAN DIDNT KNOW IT WASNT CAS but thats only because lucy purposefully wore less clothes around him to distract him.

S12-14. Im running out of steam. MARYYY. It hurt to see Sam get along with Mary becsuse he never knew her as anything else while all dean wanted was a mom and that wasnt who she really was anymore. He loved her so much but couldnt break through that barrier of "it wasnt the perfect marriage until after she died" vibes. God that scene in s5 where its suggested dean saw +/ smelled what happened to Mary and he was literally backing himself into a corner BROKE me. Havent mentioned the Wayward sisters but please know they are so important to me they are my everything. Jack is also. Loved Kelly, very sad she had to die. Wanted Jack to be a baby but thats not good for television is it. But i love Jack so much hes such a sweetie who can kill with a thought. Alternate universe michael and Michael!Dean was epic af but michael dying like that was so anticlimactic gonna be honest i think they were just reaching for ways to lose Jacks soul. Garth GARTH!!! Hes so cute. I loved all those "hand recorded" episodes btw like ghostfacers and that one teen wolf type stuff. Dean hiding in his room is so me. Free Will Theory is so fucked up at this point ur sat there saying gods been pulling the strings this whole time and i supposed to be okay with it?? I so get why deans angry but i definitely think thats something Chuck emphasised (crappy excuse for crappy writing) to an extreme level because WHAT. Like dude. I cant even describe how out of character he felt at some times.

S15. Currently rewatching and cant rmb much of it. 3 characters dead in the first 3 episodes. They either kill off all side characters or we dont hear from them at all to tie up or shove away loose ends. I cant even talk abiut the finale please i cant rn im way too tired. It straight up didnt need to exist, it could've only been 19 eps. Cas. Castiel. He did want you my darling.

[jackiequick]

Ben Carter ~ Rebel Just For Kicks | Marvel Studios OC

Full Name: Bennett Sawyer Carter

Nicknames: Ben, Benni, Benji, Sawyer, Scout, Ace

Alias: Oliver Halloway, Jackson Harper, Dean Nolan, James Shepherd, Bellamy Wheeler, Jonathan Hunter, Leon Lance etc

——

Date Of Birth: October 16th, 1984

Place Of Birth: New York City

Place Of Residency: Washington, DC

——

Family: AGENT 13, Sharon [CLASSIFIED] — Sister

—————

“I wanted to be teacher but my father didn’t allow it. So now I live in the shadow of my older sister, but I do this job to protect her.”

“Did you really just challenge me to burger eating contest?”

“Yippee ki yay, mother-oops, sorry, there’s children present..”

“Man, I need a break. Who wants pie?”

————————

Personality: 

He is delightful blend of charm and goofiness, often bringing humor to even the most serious situations. His clumsy nature leads to lighthearted moments, endearing him to those around him. 

Beneath his playful exterior lies a fiercely loyal protector; Ben would selflessly throw himself into harm's way to shield his loved ones, demonstrating an unwavering commitment to their safety. 

With a quick wit and a knack for sarcasm, he deftly navigates tense scenarios, using humor to defuse potential conflicts. Friendly and charismatic, he easily connects with others, making him a beloved figure among friends and allies alike.

-------

Background 📖

Growing up in a family where his sister, Sharon (AGENT 13), was clearly the high achiever, Bennett always felt the pressure to live up to his family’s expectations. 

His dream of becoming a teacher was dismissed by his father, who pushed him toward a path of espionage or government work like his sister. While Sharon excelled, Bennett found solace in humor and developing a carefree persona to cope with the pressure.

—

“I don’t want to be like Sharon or you or even aunt Peg, dad! I want to teach and travel, not go around getting myself into trouble.” Ben replied.

“Son, you will be a fine young agent just like me. Being a teacher is too small of a career and you won’t be paid much.” Michael, his father, add in a stern tone. “You’re a Carter, act like it.”

“But I am not fit for that kinda job…”

“You say that now, but you will be.”

“Dad...”

—

While Ben respected his father and admired Sharon’s achievements, he couldn’t help but feel torn. More than anyone in his family, Aunt Peggy Carter had always fascinated him. She was a legend in her own right, a brilliant strategist, co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a woman who had helped shape the modern intelligence world. Yet, despite her immense legacy, Ben wondered if Aunt Peggy might have understood his desire to take a different path.

Sometimes, when the pressure became too much, Ben found himself wondering, What would Aunt Peg say if she were here?

Deep down, he believed she would have told him to follow his own path, to be his own person. Unlike his father, Peggy might have recognized that having goals—big or small—was important. But Ben never had the chance to ask her. And that uncertainty gnawed at him.

Would Peggy have supported his choices? Or would she have dismissed his dreams like his father had?

This question haunted Ben, even as he tried to balance his own desires with his family’s expectations. He longed for a mentor who would understand him, someone who wouldn’t see his dreams as "too small."

Though he eventually followed the path set out for him, Ben’s inner struggle never fully disappeared. He carried the question of Peggy’s approval with him, both as a source of strength and as a reminder of what he had given up.

---

-------

—Relationship with Sharon Carter 🛠️

Growing up, Sharon and Bennett shared a close bond. As the older sibling, Sharon was protective of her little brother, often looking out for him when their father’s strict expectations weighed heavily on him. In their early years, they had a lot of fun together—playing games, pulling pranks, and exploring the streets of New York. Sharon was always the more confident and adventurous one, while Ben was more cautious, happy to follow her lead.

But as they got older, the gap between them began to widen. Sharon embraced the world of espionage with determination, diving headfirst into training and missions. She became the perfect soldier in their father’s eyes, the embodiment of the Carter legacy. 

Ben, on the other hand, grew unsure of himself. He admired Sharon’s strength and skill but resented the fact that her success only made him feel more inadequate. Often feeling torn between his personal dreams and the family legacy.

Despite their differences and the tension that arose from their father’s expectations, Ben and Sharon deeply cared for each other. Sharon was fiercely protective of Ben, even if she didn’t always understand his reluctance to embrace their family’s legacy. Ben, in turn, admired Sharon’s strength and independence, even if he resented the comparisons made between them.

As Ben began to settle into his own role in intelligence work—whether by choice or circumstance—Sharon continued to watch out for him. He didn’t want to live in Sharon’s shadow, but he also didn’t want her to get hurt. Part of his decision to follow the family path came from his desire to protect Sharon—to make sure she never faced the dangers of their work alone.

—

"I do this job for a lot of reasons," Ben once confided in a rare moment of vulnerability. "But mostly? I do it to protect you."

Sharon, uncharacteristically quiet, nodded. "I don’t need protecting, Ben."

"I know," he replied, looking down shaking his head and then looked straight at her. "But I’m still going to try."

——

—-

They weren’t as close as they had been in their childhood, but they had come to respect each other’s choices. 

Sharon continued to work in her career, while Ben had found his own way, even if it wasn’t the life he originally wanted.

————

———————

——

| CARTER — S.H.I.E.L.D. Associate | ⚖️ |

While Bennett initially resisted the idea of following in his family’s footsteps, particularly those of his father and sister, he eventually found a place within S.H.I.E.L.D., albeit on his own terms. He didn’t strive to be a leader or a figurehead, but he knew that protecting those he cared about—and finding his own way to make a difference—was important.

Reluctant Start, Natural Talent

After years of pushing back against his father’s expectations, Bennett’s path eventually led him to S.H.I.E.L.D. He realized that, whether he liked it or not, his family’s legacy wasn’t something he could easily escape. Yet, when he decided to join S.H.I.E.L.D., it wasn’t out of a desire to live up to the Carter name exactly—it was about finding his own purpose. He just wanted to make his mark in a way that felt authentic to him.

Though Ben had always been reluctant to pursue espionage, he discovered he had a natural talent for certain aspects of the job. He wasn’t the best strategist or mastermind like other agents, but he excelled in the physical and tactical elements of the work.

——

"Watch it, Carter. You're like a kid in a candy store," Maria Hill remarked dryly, watching as Ben eagerly examined the array of weaponry laid out in the SHIELD armory.

Ben scoffed, flashing a grin. "Hill, lighten up. It's a wall full of guns, knives, and other weaponry! Look at this," he said, picking up a sleek new handgun and examining it with gleaming eyes. "And ooh, is that a new set of bows and arrows? Bet Clint would love this!"

Hill shook her head, but she couldn’t hide the faint smirk on her face. Ben's enthusiasm, though sometimes overwhelming, was infectious.

——

~ Role within S.H.I.E.L.D. ⚙️

Active S.H.I.E.L.D. Associate: Bennett works as a simple, yet kind field agent, engaging in various missions and tasks for the organization.

Hand-to-Hand Combat: Skilled in close-quarters combat, always eager to improve and test his fighting abilities.

Weaponry Enthusiast: Excited by weapons, particularly guns, rifles, knives, and advanced tech. He enjoys trying out new gear.

Scouting Missions: Loves scouting and reconnaissance missions, especially because they let him travel and explore new places.

Undercover & Surveillance: Although reluctant at first, he secretly enjoys undercover work and surveillance, finding it both challenging and exciting.

——————

———

————————————

—Strengths & Weaknesses 🖥️

Strengths

1. Charisma and Charm

2. Loyalty and Protectiveness

3. Wit and Humor

4. Adaptability

5. Combat Skills

6. Empathy and Understanding

Weakness

1. Self-Doubt

2. Emotional Burden

3. Reluctance to Embrace Leadership

4. Tendency to Avoid Conflict

5. Clumsiness

6. Difficulty Accepting Help

——————————

———

———

Fun Facts & Quirks! 🧲

- Foodie at Heart -> This man loves burgers, pies, ice cream, donuts and etc. Depending on where he is, Ben will find some sort of food to eat.

“Did you seriously go and buy milkshake?” His teammate asked.

He shrugged and pointed, “What? You were takin’ too long. I got hungry.”

- Clumsy Charmer -> He is notoriously clumsy at times, often stumbling on his own feet or bumping into something by accident.

“Who put a damn step there? That wasn’t there before!” He shouted almost tripping over but caught himself quickly.

- Tv & Film Fan -> He is often found quoting a line from his favorites or referencing a form of media. However he doesn’t always like to repeat the same thing, more than twice.

“No more Punzel! If I have to hear Zachary Levi’s voice one more time, I’m done.” He shouts during moving night.

His friend gasps, “How dare you? Flynn Rider is wonderful!”

- Dreamer -> Despite having to cut out being a teacher in his life, he always wondered what he might’ve showned those young minds.

“I could’ve been a History teacher or English..? Not math, I suck at that subject! Hell, I might quit this job and find out..”

- He talks to favorite things -> He will talk to his car, his guns and jacket. You already know if Ben had a pet he will be chatting with that animal too.

He grins seeing his favorite handheld gun and picked it up, “Hello sweetheart, gods, I missed you.”

Other things include: Ben is a music lover, mildly superstitious, enjoys collecting items, fear of heights etc.

————

—————

Additional information | 📬 |

-> Favorite Hero

Bennett will never admit it but he enjoys the heroes he seems on the streets and in his line of world.

You would think because his aunt Peggy association to Captain America, automatically that’s his favorite. He admires and respects Steve Rogers greatly, hell he hopes to have enough goodness in his heart to be like him, but not his favorite.

He actually secretly admires Spider-Man for his wit, willingness to help out, relatability and kindness towards others. He only seen the hero from afar but he can tell why people online like him.

~~~

-> Dating Life

When it comes to dating, Bennett tends to casual date. Nothing serious. He enjoys meeting new people and exploring connections without the pressure of committing or wanting to make they both hit it off well.

He has had serval crushes over the years, nothing notably strong or anything. However he once had a significant crush on a fellow agent, but he never acted on it, fearing it could mess up their professional relationship. He didn’t to push anything.

His flirting style is light-hearted and humorous. He tends to use playful chill banter and finding whatever he can as a simple ice-breaker. His charm is evident in his ability to make others smile, and he often employs self-deprecating humor to put his crushes at ease.

Currently, Bennett is single and he doesn’t mind it actually. Honestly, he thinks no one can compete with his notorious lack of skills and put up with him half the time to his bad jokes. But hey? We might be wrong and there is a certain someone out there for him.

~~~~

~ Hobbies and Interests |🛋️| ~

Cooking: Bennett enjoys experimenting in the kitchen. He loves trying out new recipes, especially when it comes to making burgers and desserts. His friends often joke that he should open a food truck.

- “Who needs a Michelin star when you can make the perfect burger at home?”

Movie Buff & TV Binge-Watcher: Bennett has a soft spot for action flicks, buddy cop movies, and classic comedies. He often spends his free time rewatching old favorites or discovering new series to binge.

Collecting Vintage Memorabilia: Bennett enjoys collecting vintage movie posters, old records, and retro tech. His apartment is littered with relics of the past, from vinyl records to an old-fashioned radio. He particularly loves hunting for rare finds at flea markets and antique shops.

- “You can laugh at my vinyl collection all you want, but there's nothing like listening to the Life Is A Highway on the original record.”

Tinkering with Cars: Bennett inherited a love of cars from his father. He spends weekends tinkering with his car, working on engine repairs, or upgrading parts. He’s not a full-blown gearhead, but he enjoys spending time in his garage fixing up his old, reliable ride.

——

————

-> Fears and Insecurities |🪤| <-

Fear of Failure: Bennett often worries about not living up to his family legacy or his own potential. This fear sometimes holds him back from pursuing more serious relationships or challenges.

- “What if I’m just not cut out for this? What if I let everyone down?”

Insecurity About His Role & Fitting In: Sometimes he can feel like he’s qualified to be an agent, and to overcompensate that with humor.

- “I mean, I’m just a guy who likes burgers and makes a lot of bad jokes… how did I end up here?”

Fear of Not Finding His Own Path: Bennett has always wanted to follow his own dream of being a teacher or traveling, but the weight of family expectations and his current career pulls him in another direction. He’s afraid that he’ll never get the chance to live the life he truly wants, and instead, be stuck in a role he didn’t choose for himself.

- "Maybe it’s too late to figure out what I want. Maybe this is just who I am now…"

Insecurity About His Intelligence: Though he’s smart and capable, Bennett sometimes feels overshadowed by more academically inclined people, like the tech geniuses or strategists he encounters in SHIELD. He’s more street-smart than book-smart, and while he’s skilled, he occasionally doubts whether he’s as sharp as others around him.

- "Sure, I can shoot straight, but can I crack codes and come up with genius plans? Not so much. Maybe I’m just the muscle here."

~~~~~

-> Signature Style

Bennett tends to dress in casual, comfortable clothing—jeans, graphic tees, sweaters, thick jackets and sneakers.

He has a penchant for customizing his gear and equipment, adding personal touches that reflect his personality, such as stickers or playful designs.

~~~~~~

-> Habits

Midnight Snacker: Bennett has a habit of raiding the fridge late at night, often resulting in humorous situations when caught.

- “Don’t judge me, if my stomach is craving a handful of cereal at 1 in the morning.” He mumbled as he eats the mouthful of Honey-Nut Cheerios.

Movie Marathoner: He loves binge-watching movie series and often tries to convince friends to join him, complete with snacks and drinks. Sometimes he is found watching classic footage he got stored away somewhere while sipping a nice cup of coffee. Such as old race car footage.

Non-Stop Talker: Ben has a real habit of making one handed comments, give a witty compliment or over speaking in a conversation, especially when it’s not needed. Sometimes he can’t help it but spit out a few sentences and split out of the room just as quickly. Or if he gets nervous, he might ramble until someone shuts him up.

Short-Term Memory: He will never admit it but Ben has a tendency to forget things easily or get distracted, which results in issues for himself and others. People need to often repeat what they said a few times or Ben has to write it down somewhere to make sure he did it. He wonders if it’s on-set early Alzheimer like his aunt Peggy has but tries not to think about it too much. 

- “Can you repeat that? I only got caught half of what you said…” He replied looking up at you with a soft smile.

Vintage Fashion Enthusiast: One thing he will never admit nor you will ever except is for Ben to find fashion a causal factor in his life. He has a habit of wearing or finding timeless pieces whenever he went. Either a classic leather jacket, wrist watches, a necklace and or thick sweaters for colder temperatures. They’re simple items but a small part of him gets excited to wear them.

~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

Hope you like him! I might consider to continue his story soon hehe 😉

Let me know what you think

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @starkleila @aidanxsophxoxo @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @rickb-chaos @topgun-imagines @hardballoonlove @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @ximehs @savemewattpad @theonlyblackcanary @terry-perry @triptuckers @daughter-of-melpomene @superspookyjanelle

[boykingscourt]

Ooh! Who is who in your Lost Boys au & what are the best protectiveness parts?

ok so lost boys au that lives in my brain. this might be long for no reason so I apologize for that. two things to keep in mind:

idk if you've seen the lost boys before, but don't try to think of the characters as a 1:1 ratio, not in their relationships to each other nor their personalities. some of this will make more sense given their relationships in the movie and some of it will not

vampires-only universe. and the winchesters are just normal people with no prior knowledge of them

so most importantly dean is michael (older brother who falls in with the vampire gang and is unknowingly turned) and sam is... well sam! it makes almost too much sense given michael also calls his little brother sammy

dean is early 20s and sam is late teens

in this, john is lucy. lucy is technically divorced in the movie, but we can just keep it canon and have john be a widower (sorry, mary). certainly a version where mary is alive and john is dead can exist, but it's not this one

okay so this next part is kind of embarrassing. I know the lost boys is about well the lost boys, the gang of four vampire boys, but I really only have the most important member planned out.

benny is david, the leader. it makes sense given his relationship with dean in canon. can be homoerotic if you prefer. I can't find any photos of ty olsson around the age I'd want him to be here, but you can imagine him as dean's age (at least at the moment he was turned)

cassie robinson is star, who in the movie is david's (unwilling) girlfriend and is herself a fledgling vampire. if you want dean and cassie to be together the way michael and star were, then that's fine too! cassie is gorgeous; star is gorgeous, and both are brave. makes sense to me

btw I don't care about that little kid who hangs around star in the movie, so we're not gonna care about him here

my favorite role to fill was the frog brothers, two teens who work at a comic book store, befriend (movie) sam, and try to warn him about the existence of vampires. making them charlie and garth seemed like a no-brainer. they can still call themselves the frog brothers (even though charlie called the men of letters' name sexist, being a frog brother is just much cooler and I think she'd like it). they don't have to be literal siblings. sam, charlie, and garth will work to cure dean of his vampirism by attempting to locate and kill the head vampire

oh the grandpa is going to be bobby, a family friend john and the boys move in with for the time being. I don't think this needs further explanation

okay so now max, the head vampire

I want him to be rowena. now HEAR ME OUT

I love rowena and of course I don't see her as a villain by the end of spn but damn it let me have fun!! let her seduce john with the motive of turning him and his boys into vampires so they can all be one big happy vampire family. let sam, charlie, and garth try to prove she's a vampire in front of john and have that hilarious and iconic dinner scene from the movie ensue

because vampire mother is much cooler than a dorky vampire dad, yeah?

so now the best instances of michael protecting sam in the movie that I can then use for dean and sam? while it's true michael is not as outwardly protective of (movie) sam as dean is of (spn) sam, it is clear he cares for sam a lot and is not letting any vampire near him (including himself)

there's another iconic scene where sam is in the bathtub and michael nearly feeds on him, only to be mauled by the family dog lmao. so dean can indeed nearly feed on sam and get mauled by the family dog, sam's dog, bones in this case!

bones is a very good boy

when the vampires make their final attack on the winchester brothers, cassie, and the frog brothers, (who are all at bobby's house while both bobby and john are away) bones will run out into the yard, leaving sam to run after bones and dean to run after sam, shouting at him the entire time. bones will be fine!

there was also a part earlier in the movie where sam and the frog brothers sneak into the vampires' lair to kill them. this is where that gifset came from. michael (dean) is weak from the sunlight and nowhere near as powerful as david (benny) and his gang, warning sam (sam lol) that he can't protect him down there, to which sam replies that he has to protect dean this time

if you are still having a hard time seeing the vision, please imagine these two scenes as sam, dean, john, and rowena and then sam, dean, and cassie, respectively

and there you have it! lost boys au that lives in my head. ending and in fact the majority of the plot is up to you

if you know anything about the movie and want more specifics, and if I've thought of those specifics, ask away again!

[melanieathene]

In Purgatory

The mind is its own place and, in itself can make a Heaven of Hell or a Hell of Heaven.

— Paradise Lost, John Milton —

Purgatory was no place for humans. Nor was it meant for angels. It was a repository for the souls of demons, vampires, Leviathans, and other monstrous beings who were fit for neither Heaven nor Hell. But here Castiel was, an angel trapped in a place he had no right to be. What was worse, Dean was here too.

Purgatory was even less of a place for a human in an angel’s company. Castiel was a beacon of light, drawing monsters to him as nectar draws a bee. He knew this. Dean knew this. But Dean had spent the better part of a year searching for Castiel after the angel had fled upon their arrival in Purgatory, vainly hoping to draw danger away from Dean. Now that he had finally found Castiel, Dean was adamant that they stay together and make their way home. It was useless to protest, futile to try and explain that he had to atone for the sins he had committed. Castiel told himself that he would comply simply to ensure Dean had not misplaced his trust in his vampire companion. But the truth ran deeper than that. Castiel had no real desire to distance himself from Dean. He had missed the hunter terribly in the time they’d been apart. It was an ache that had crept deep into his bones. A temporary salve to such a spiritual wound was worth the risk... or so he hoped. After all, it would only be until he saw Dean safely though the portal.

Of course, his worst fears were soon realized. His presence drew a horde of Leviathans. The ensuing battle was brutal, intense and damnably prolonged. Even the vampire was tired by the time the last Leviathan lay lifeless on the ground.

Breathing heavily, Benny surveyed the gory remains, his eyes widening in dismay. “Where’s Dean?” he said.

~~~*~~~

They decided to split up, the better to cover more territory. Benny chose to retrace the route the Leviathans had taken to find them. Castiel headed in the opposite direction, towards the river, fear lending wings to his heels. Brambles tore at his clothing and branches slapped his face as he ran, heart pounding with the fear that he’d be too late. That Dean was already dead... or, worse, that he’d been carried off to face a slow, torturous death.

He almost ran straight into the river before catching himself on its brink. He stood staring blankly at a decapitated Leviathan whose head had rolled into the water. Two other bodies lay nearby in the tall grass. Yet a fourth was sprawled under a tree, several yards downstream.

“Cas,” Dean said, stepping out of the shadow the old tree cast. Weary. Bloodied. But alive.

Castiel froze, rooted in place for the count of one heartbeat... two... And then he was again in motion, running, running not in fear this time, but with a swell of emotion that drew him forward like a magnet. Running to Dean. Folding him into his arms. Holding him as if he’d never let him go.

“Dean,” he sighed, pouring all the relief and love in his heart into the utterance of the name.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean murmured, his arms coming up to return the angel’s embrace. “I’m okay. It’s all right. We won.”

“Dean,” Castiel repeated helplessly. And kissed him.

So entranced was the angel by the taste of Dean on his tongue, by his joy at savouring the very essence of the man, that he failed to notice Dean’s hands had dropped down to his sides; that the pliant body in his arms had stiffened in shock, in surprise... god forbid, in horror. But as his mind caught up to his runaway body, trepidation replaced rapture. Castiel stepped back, ashamed of his impetuous behaviour; ready to recant, to somehow try and make amends for his audacity. Conciliatory words trembled on his lips, words he never had the chance to say. Because suddenly he was the one who was shocked into immobility. Because Dean Winchester’s heart had finally kickstarted his brain. And it was Dean’s turn now to draw Castiel in, to fold him back into a tight embrace and return his kiss with unbridled enthusiasm.

Not that it took the angel long to respond...

They drank each other in as if they were dying men who, parched by the desert sun, had finally found a source of water. Their lips parted only when Dean had to draw a much needed breath. Their eyes locked, then; their fingers read the Braille of each other’s face, until neither could stand another second without the taste of the other and they fell together once more. Time and place ceased to have any meaning. They were lost, lost to the wonder of finally, finally coming together.

Who knows how far passion might have carried them had not Benny’s increasingly anxious cries of “Cas! Dean!” interrupted the moment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I detest that vampire?” Castiel said, resting his forehead against Dean’s.

“A time or two.”

“And have I ever said how much I love you?”

“Every day. With every look you give me, with everything you do. But it’s nice to hear the words.” Dean placed a tender kiss on the angel’s nose and reluctantly stepped away, moments before Benny pushed his way through the last of the tangled vegetation and joined them at the water’s edge.

The vampire stared at them suspiciously. “You could have answered,” he grumbled. “I thought you both were dead.”

“Still alive and kicking,” Dean replied. “Unlike my friends over there, who thought they’d captured a prize. Guess the joke’s on them.”

“Then may I suggest we get a move on. The sounds of battle carry, and the stench of death will draw more unwelcome attention.” Benny tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. “If you’re quite done here, that is.”

“Are we?” Castiel inquired, also tilting his head.

“For now,” Dean said, and smiled. “Let’s go home.”

“Amen to that, brother.” Benny turned and walked away. “It’s not far now. A day or two at most before we reach the portal.”

Castiel’s answering smile faded.

“It’s mutual, you know,” Dean said, casually continuing their earlier, interrupted conversation. The back of his hand brushed against the angel’s, deliberate, lingering, and the fire the simple touch ignited in his veins made Castiel want to turn his hand and lace their fingers together.

But he didn’t, of course. Instead, he let Dean go, trailing along behind as the human followed after the vampire, his heart a leaden weight in his chest. Castiel understood this was but a small foreshadowing of the pain he’d feel when Dean was truly gone, safely back on Earth where he belonged, and he would be left alone in this nightmarish place, with only the memory of their kisses to sustain him.

“I didn’t know,” he murmured softly to himself. "But now I do. And that’s what makes it so hard to honour my resolution."

Knowing he was loved; knowing he didn’t deserve that love; knowing he couldn’t keep it, but wanting to with all his heart... He was being pulled in two directions at once, torn between elation and despair.

It was its own special kind of Purgatory.

And he knew there was no hope of escape.

Originally posted to AO3 on 2022-08-14. Just thought it might be fun to post some old stories here. :)