#dean should have just dropped to his knees here and saved them all a lot of time and heartbreak

[strawlessandbraless]

The divorce arc was really something else

[according2thelore]

i just reread ur Love Potion no. 9 and now I’m thinking about es!dean cooking ls!sam a ribeye bc he has a KITCHEN here and ls!sam trying to make himself eat it <3 anyway love ur stuff so much

EEP! thank you anon! i love domestic winchesters so much, lol!

this idea crawled into my head and stuck there until i wrote it. this is humiliatingly long but thank you for the prompt!!! your brain anon!!!

mwah!! mwah!!! <3

the smell brings sam into the kitchen. younger dean is standing near the stovetop, shuffling dishes around. when sam clears his throat, about to ask what he's making, the kid jumps.

"are you making dinner?" sam asks, confused. dean picks up the dishtowel, wiping his hands. sam's younger self and older dean went out to get extra spark plugs for the old junker in the garage an hour ago, and sam was planning on reheating some takeout from the other night.

dean hasn't dropped the dishtowel, kneading it between his hands like he's trying to strangle it.

"yeah, y'know. grandpa told me that i--he--us. we? do a lot of the cooking."

sam rolls his eyes because dean has gotten in the habit of calling older dean 'grandpa' and 'the geezer' and 'ol dusty.' it's cute.

but gosh, the smell. sam's stomach roils. dean must see something shift on his face because he's quick to explain.

"d'you remember when we were stuck outsida asheville? and the only thing we had were those hotdogs?"

sam can't help but wrinkle his nose. he definitely remembers. dean had done everything he could do dress them up and make it different, but they went on a hotdog strike for months after, only choosing other food if they had a choice.

"i got real handy with the grill. that's...kinda the only gourmet cooking i've got under my belt. i asked, but. uh. anyway. i made you steak? a ribeye steak?"

it sounds like a question at the end and sam's stomach sinks because oh shit. dean made this. dean made this for me. sam looks over dean's shoulder, easier than it would be if dean were his older self, pounds of muscle not packed in yet.

that's where he's been. he's been in here since before the other two even left. cooking dinner. for sam. to eat.

it's not even a question of if sam's going to do it. because he is going to do it.

it's a question of how neutral can he make his face as he chokes it down.

and oh god, it's huge. the steak is as big as dean's face, and sam knows for a fact that he must have picked it out specifically, because dean did not have that thing in their fridge.

sam's stomach goes wobbly with the image of this little dean, trailing in aisles in the local grocery store with a hat pulled low over his eyes (like they had all agreed to do until this blew over), deciding which steak sam would like the best.

"oh wow!" sam says, trying to sound encouraging. "it's big."

dean flushes fourteen different shades of pink over a period of ten seconds, and yeah. sam sighs. he's going to eat the fucking steak.

six minutes later, after dean had pushed sam down into a chair and let his hand on sam's shoulder linger for two seconds longer than it should have--

(and really, dean is not smooth. sam wished he had known back in 2006 that dean was this easy to fluster because he would've fallen to his knees in shitty motel carpet ten years early and saved them all a lot of heartache.)

--sam is staring at easily sixteen ounces of meat. to dean's credit, it looks like it should feature on a grilling magazine or something. but all sam can smell is the slightly seared odour of flesh.

"and i heard that you like greens, so--" sam tears his eyes away and dean awkwardly balances a bagged salad in his hands. sam feels like crying. this is going to be a rough few minutes.

"share it with me," sam asks, begs really, but dean just shakes his head.

"nah, man. i made it for you. i've got one for me." and sure enough, sam's stomach sinks as dean brings over another plate to the table with a much more reasonably sized offering.

"great." sam says, smiling bleakly. his throat is clogged and thick when he swallows. he tastes acid at the back of his throat. they sit in silence for a few minutes while sam pops the salad bag, trying to frantically puzzle out how he's going to eat this thing.

he could eat it as fast as possible? give his nerves less time to process the hot skin sliding down his throat. but the chances of him throwing up would increase exponentially. he could chew and hide bites in his napkin? but dean would catch it.

sam's stomach sinks. he's going to have to chew it. and swallow it. and let it sit in his stomach. heavy and full. skin grease and meat tearing under his teeth. sam's mind whites-out with the memory of the cage, of being forced to eat his own thigh down to the bone.

"so..." dean asks, "how long have we lived here?"

sam looks up, and realizes that dean is gripping his beer bottle so tight that it looks like it might shatter in his hand. sam softens. kid looks like he's going to shit himself.

"you know i can't tell you that." sam chides. and he picks up his fork. he picks up his knife. he braces himself. and he cuts.

"and what are your...what are your plans?" dean asks, thirty minutes later. they've been talking back and forth, trading memories of things pre-2006. sam's been trying to keep this strictly common knowledge, and dean--unlike sam's younger self--takes it mostly in stride.

sam feels an automatic reflex to burp rising in his throat, and he locks his muscles as much as he can because if he feels the taste of aerosolized meat in his mouth again, he will vomit.

half the steak is gone, and dean's food is completely gone. he doesn't seem to be in any rush, and keeps giving sam more beer. sam keeps having to take sips after each bite to wash the taste away as soon as he can, so he appreciates it. dean seems more and more surprised that sam isn't letting more slip, and sam smirks to think of how much of a light-weight he used to be.

is dean trying to get him drunk? sam's kind of flattered, he thinks.

"my plans?" sam repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah. y'know. for the future."

sam looks at dean appraisingly. it could be a ploy for information, but for some reason, dean looks prematurely disappointed, like he's bracing himself for bad news. sam quickly takes another bite, thin enough that he can swallow it down without chewing at all.

"well." sam says, slowly. taking another swig of beer. "i've always wanted a dog. but--" he smiles. "'grandpa' says no. he's afraid it's going to get hair all over the car."

dean blinks at him. like he's waiting for something else. but when sam just stuffs another bite in his throat, dean cracks a hesitant smile.

"well. grandpa's very wise. i've always said so. dander is shit for leather."

sam smiles, rolling his eyes, when he hears footsteps.

"did someone grill out inside--" dean. older dean. he rounds the corner, and freezes when he sees the steak in front of sam. his younger self sitting across from him. "what the fuck?"

"dean, it's okay--" sam says, quickly, before dean can say anything, but dean is already storming across the room.

"did you eat this?" he demands, but before sam can say anything, dean whirls on his younger self. "he doesn't eat meat, jackass."

the younger dean blanches. "what? yeah he does. we eat burgers all the time."

"not my sam, one tree hill." dean turns around to face sam again. "are you okay?"

in truth, sam already feels the meat settling oddly in his stomach. he feels like he's going to be sick. but he just glares at dean instead, furious. the cage is sam's to tell--or sam's to bury, in this case. dean's tone is too acerbic for young dean to not pick up on the weight of it. it's clear from dean's tone alone that sam's aversion to meat is not a choice made on ethics.

younger dean looks like he's about to cry, sitting back in his chair. silence stretches for a second.

"give us a minute." sam snaps. dean flushes a furious shade of scarlet.

"what the hell? i'm not--"

"dean." sam says, cutting. dean peters into silence, and sam looks at both deans, one furious and one crestfallen. "he was doing something nice."

"by forcing you to--"

sam puts a hand on dean's, pushing the plate in his hands down. he makes eye contact, and sees the concern there. dean's never been good at letting sam take care of himself, and sam can already see how a version of himself 'hurting' sam is making him ready to start throwing punches. he softens.

"i'm going to be fine. let me handle this, please. i'll catch up with you later."

dean's mouth twists up in a snarl. "sam--"

"later." sam repeats, and dean growls something unintelligible as he storms out of the room. sam sags forward, finally allowing himself to process how full and ill he feels. how the alien flesh in his stomach feels revolting, thick.

"why didn't you say anything?" a quiet voice. sam looks up, smiling a genuine smile this time, and allowing it to look as weird as it probably does.

"i can't." sam says, apologetic. he's not going to tell dean anything about it. he can't know. dean rubs a hand over his face.

"i'm not used to not knowing you, sammy." he murmurs, looking sick. he looks so young that sam's chest contracts. what a sorry pair they make.

"you know me." sam reassures softly. "i'm your little brother."

dean looks up at him then, huffing an unamused snort. they look at each other for a long while, sam tracing the round curves of dean's face. his wide eyes. sam wonders what dean sees when he looks at him.

"yeah. okay." dean says, finally. "'m sorry."

sam shrugs. "how about we get outta here? there's a diner down by the movies that makes a mean veggie burger."

dean nods, still looking lost.

"they also make the best pecan pie in the state. we've checked."

dean snorts, and there he is: sam's big brother. young, and lost, but undeniably here, in the swoop of his bottom lip as he smiles.

sam's chest expands with his first full breath in almost an hour, and something else. something warm.

"i'll be the judge of that." dean says, cocky and all false-reassurance. sam wants to kiss him. but he stands instead, and nods towards the door.

"lead the way."

~~~

i saw something the other day that suggested veggie!sam was a hot take, and i think i'm only a partial veggie!sam believer. i think it comes and goes--he has good and bad days.

i can only imagine the cage made sam's relationship to consuming meat weirder. but who knows! thank you again for the prompt anon!!!

-lizzy

[impala-dreamer]

Everlong - Chapter Fifteen

A Supernatural Series

~Y/N has everything she’s ever wanted - the love of a good man, a best friend she can lean on, drama, magic, and heroics. But everyone knows, things aren’t always what they seem.~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Rowena, Castiel, Others

Chapter Fifteen Word Count: 886

A/N: Thank you so so much to everyone who read and commented/reblogged/sent asks. I really appreciate your interaction and involvement. <3 This is the end... and I'm sure you'll have questions, but as I said, there were always breadcrumbs lol. Feel free to come chat with me about it... <33

Everlong Masterlist ~ Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  ~  Buy Me A Coffee  ~  Feedback is Gold

Jensen sat by her side, head held in his hands, elbows digging into his knees. His beard was thick, his hair greasy and unkempt. The flesh below his eyes was dark, his vision strained from lack of sleep. 

Y/N was still asleep and he marked the time by each labored rise and fall of her chest. Her wrists were bound to the bed, her ackles spread and locked in place by velcro straps. The sheets beneath her were wrinkled and twisted, the pillow flat around her head. 

She stirred and he sat up, leaning close to check on her. He was still shaking, traumatized by the whole ordeal. The weeks leading up to her crash, the stress of trying to help her from so far away. The hallucinations were wild and she had to face them alone. He should have done more, should have forced her to go to the hospital sooner, should have… should have… should have…

He sucked in a heavy breath and cleared the tears from his eyes when the door opened. 

Cindy, the ward nurse, came in, her white sneakers squeaking gently on the polished floor. She smiled kindly at Jensen and went about her task checking Y/N’s vitals. 

She eyed Jensen over the clipboard as she noted the time and numbers. “You should go home and rest,” she said quietly.

He shook his head. “Can’t do that.” His voice creaked and he cleared his throat, pushing away the tears. “I need to be here when she wakes up.” 

Cindy gave him a sad smile and nodded. “I understand.” 

“She will-” His heart ached and he reached for Y/N’s hand, squeezing her fingers tight. “She will wake up, won’t she?” 

The nurse sighed and hung the clipboard off the foot of the bed. “The pills she took did a lot of damage and the seizure was severe. Her… brain was without oxygen for three minutes, and…” 

She trailed off, seeing Jensen crumble. Hunched over, he dropped his head and kissed Y/N’s hand. He shuddered, unable to stop himself from crying again. 

“We can pray,” she said softly. 

Jensen looked up and nodded. “Thank you.” 

Cindy walked away quietly, tiptoeing so her shoes didn’t squeak so loudly. When she reached the door, she turned, offering a tiny speck of comfort. 

“I’m sure you did all that you could.” 

Green eyes burned with guilt.

“Yeah…” 

“You did all that you could, Dean.” 

Castiel stood at the foot of the bed, looking down upon Y/N’s unconscious form. The bullet had grazed her forehead, knocked aside by Dean’s tackle, but she had not yet awakened. She was lost to trauma, her own mind caging her deep inside. 

For days, Dean sat by her side in the hospital, watching every breath and counting every beep on the monitor. Sometimes, he whispered to her just to see if the lines on the screen would move, but mostly, he sat and stared, hating himself and everything that he had failed to do. 

“I didn’t do shit, Cas, and you know it.” 

The angel frowned deeply. “You saved her life.” 

Dean looked up, frustrated and broken. “Yeah. Sure looks like it.” 

“Dean, don’t-” 

“You sure there’s nothing you can do?” His lip trembled and he reached for Y/N’s hand, holding it tight. 

Castiel hung his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Dean inhaled deeply. His chest was aching, his body close to collapse with exhaustion. His gaze fell across her face. “Can you see inside her head?” he asked, hoping for some solace. “Is she… she still in there?” 

Cas looked ahead, squinting at Y/N. “I don’t know, Dean.” He shook his head sadly. “But wherever she is, I’m sure she’s alright.” 

Green eyes flooded with painful tears. “Yeah…”

Y/N shut the oven door and wiped her hands on her gingham apron. 

The sound of boots filled the little kitchen and Y/N smiled as Dean snuck up behind her. His sweaty arms fit perfectly around her waist and his scruffy chin landed on her shoulder. 

“Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?” he asked, sniffing at the air. 

Y/N laughed and let herself relax against him. He was warm from the sun and smelled like grass clippings and rich dirt. 

“Oh, just an apple pie,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment. “I know you’re not a fan, but-” 

His fingers wiggled around her middle and she laughed, tickled by his touch. 

“Oh, I’m a fan.” He nuzzled at her throat and then lifted his lips to her ear. “I’m a fan of you too…” 

Y/N hummed and spun in his arms, turning to face him. She wrapped her hands around him, letting her fingers curl in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How’d we get here?” she asked, soaking in the love beaming from his emerald eyes. “Cute little house in the middle of nowhere, pie in the oven, dogs in the yard? Don’t you ever wonder how things are just so… perfect?” 

Dean laughed softly and shrugged. “I guess I don’t think about it much. Why worry about things when they’re good?” 

Y/N smiled. “So things are good?” 

He licked his lips and eyed hers, his arms locking behind her back, pulling her closer. “Baby, things are… awesome…” 

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[wormstacheangel]

Suptober Day 1: Harvest

wc: 1.7k tags: fluff with the side of tiny case fic, established relationship, spoilers but cw they are drugged with cider,

It was a long hunt. One that they accepted as their last one, but, of course, they can never sit still enough not to take an easy local hunt. By local, he means a two-day trip away, but still, they saved a couple of old folks from a ghost, which was fun. Dean sure enjoyed getting thrown around until Cas finally burned the dentures.

Like he said, long hunt.

They stayed at a nice little Airbnb overnight. During breakfast, their waitress told them of the Harvest Festival a town over. Cas was still a little bruised up, but Dean convinced him to go, at least to try their famous apple cider.

“We’ll make a day of it! Just me and you.” With that, Cas agreed, taking Dean’s waiting hand across the table.

The festival was lively when they arrived in the afternoon, with more people than they expected considering the small town they were in but apparently when they say famous they meant it. The tents lined up with food from funnel cakes, donuts, chicken, and some pumpkin spice beer that Dean chugged down even though it tasted like shit.

They eventually ended up with bags filled with treats and souvenirs to take home to the kids--Sam and Eileen fall into the kids’ category. They each held a bag while Dean held Cas’ hand tight in his own, dragging him around from seller to seller, buying and tasting as he went.

“We should start heading home, or soon you’ll be too full to drive.” Cas teased as Dean finished off their bag of apple crisps. “You think we’re feeding an army.”

“Considering how Jack eats, we might as well be.”

“He gets that from you, you know.”

They continued their banter as they made their way out of the festival and to the parking lot.

Then they were stopped by a woman wearing a volunteer pumpkin shirt, “Aw, leaving so soon? Don’t ya wanna stay for the fireworks?”

That quickly took Dean’s attention, brightening up his whole face so much that once again, Cas couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. Instead, earning himself a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you before being was dragged to the car to drop off their items.

Once back in the festival, they walked around until another volunteer told them about the amazing view of the fireworks at the middle of the corn maze.

“It’s a small maze, but in the middle is a little hill. So it’s usually first-come, first-serve. But I haven’t heard of anyone taking it as of now.”

Once again, Dean was easily hooked in and took Cas along for the ride. Not that he was complaining. He enjoyed watching Dean get excited over small things, things he wouldn’t have permitted himself to get excited for before. Of course, it helped when Dean hooked his arm around Cas’s waist to tug him close, whispering, “Ever kissed someone in a corn maze, Cas?”

“You know I haven’t, Dean.”

That did it for Cas. A promise of a spectacular kiss that will put the fireworks to shame.

At the entrance of the maze stood a cider cart, and Cas made a beeline for it. “I at least wanna be warm if you are going to make me walk around in the cold.”

“On the house.” The saleswoman winked at them, and something uneasy passed through them, but they ignored it as she motioned them to go right on in that the fireworks should be starting soon.

They took their hot cider and walked right in, taking hold of their hands as they walked through the maze in comforting silence. Watching the sky above them change from orange and pinks to the dark night sky.

When the maze opened up to a clearing, Dean started to run—taking the small space on top. It was tall enough to see over the cornstalk and watch the lights twinkle from the festival up ahead. They could even see groups of people exiting the maze from their left, and for a second, Dean wondered why they didn’t run into anybody on their walkover. It looked like a lot of people were going through the maze, but nobody passed them.

That thought was quickly dismissed as the first firework lit up the sky, cheers from the crowd echoed the loud boom, and Dean felt secure with an arm hooking around his shoulders to bring him in closer. So they sat there watching the firework show and polishing off their now cold cider until Cas couldn’t wait another second.

Gently, he turned Dean’s face just enough so they could start the kiss slowly. The snap crackle pop of the fireworks above their heads just kept lighting up the fuse between them until Cas asked for them to find another place to spend the night.

“Should we go now?” Dean kissed down Cas’s jaw, feeling the hastily nods instead of seeing it. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

They both stood up and took one last look at the view before they got down. Turning left, where they were sure they saw the other folks exit from before. Every few steps, they pulled each other for another kiss-- smiling into them like giddy newlyweds--until they started to realize they’ve been walking for way too long.

The fireworks had long been over, and they soon realized it was their only source of light. It soon became so hard to see anything that they didn’t dare let go of each other’s hands. They tried to go back to the hill to see if maybe they could see the trail from there, but it was like it never existed in the first place.

“Fuck!” They turned the corner to find another dead-end. “Isn’t this shit for children!”

“You know we haven’t seen or heard anyone in a while. Not since-”

“We came in here. I know. I was thinking the same thing earlier when we were on the hill.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Cause you stuck your tongue in my mouth and impending doom took a backseat.”

They started to run, calling out for help as they did, but it only felt like they were going in circles.

Then Dean yelled, “Hallelujah!” When a flashlight shined into their faces.

“There you two are. It’s time to go.” The old man sounded so relieved to find them. He didn’t look sinister. He didn’t even make it sound like they were gone for that long. “You two okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. We got lost, I guess.” Dean shrugged, watching as Cas stared ahead of him.

“Many people do. But they always find their way out, though.”

They followed the man out of the maze while Dean’s knuckles brushed alongside Cas’. They were listening to the man recite a memory when suddenly Cas tugged at Dean’s arm.

“Dean.” It was a shocking gasp.

“Cas?” Dean turned around to watch; Cas’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before dropping like a ragdoll. “Cas!”

And just like that, Cas was out to the world.

Dean fell to his knees to take Cas into his arms, but it was useless. He was heavy, and Dean’s body was starting to tingle, his muscles becoming weaker with every passing second.

“Don’t you worry about your little friend.” The man flashed his light on Dean’s face. Blinding him, but Dean kept glaring up at him. “Just like you, he won’t feel a thing.”

“What did you do to him?” He tried to growl, but it came out too breathless for it to be threatening.

“Same thing we did to you. Same thing we do every year to a couple of tourists.”

Dean could feel himself slipping out of consciousness, but he kept trying to shield Cas from whatever was coming.

“Don’t fight it, boy.” The man walked over to him, raising his flashlight high above his head. “Hate it when they struggle.”

And with a single hit, Dean was knocked out. Falling over Cas. Hoping that at least he gets killed first this time around.

Dean woke up again when he felt someone kicking his legs with little to no effort. His arms were numb, and he realized it was because they were pulled back and tied around some huge boulder.

“Dean?”

Dean recognized the voice and happily groaned out a complaint. “Hate small towns. Creeps. All of them.”

Cas chuckled in relief. “Glad you’re okay.”

Dean blinked a couple of times before his eyes focused, looking across from him to find Cas in the same position as him. Cas looked dirty, a few scratches on his face from being dragged, which made Dean furious—tugging at the ropes that hold him back from checking for any more injuries.

“Fuck! Shit! You okay? They hurt you?”

“Not as much as they did you.” Dean didn’t feel much pain besides the stretch on his shoulders and a raging headache. “I guess that’s not true. You have a swell on your head.”

“Yeah, well, I went down swinging. Unlike you.” Cas didn’t look amused, but he looked concerned. Dean followed his gaze, looking for an explanation or a way out. “I guess we’re either bait or dinner.”

“I’m used to being bait.”

“And I’m used to being dinner. Well, aren’t we a match made in heaven?” This time Cas glared, and weirdly enough, it made Dean relax a little. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

The plan was simple, while Cas may not be a full-powered-up angel, he was still an angel. And he was stronger than an average human. So with a little more force, Cas had his arms free, rubbing his wrist while shrugging at Dean, “I always see humans do this.”

“Yeah, cause it hurts, so if you can just-” Dean motioned for his arms and Cas quickly reached to untie him. Then, when they were both free, they once again started to look around the empty cornfield. “I say leave now and call for backup; come back in the morning.”

“Considering we have no weapons, I think that would be for the best.”

“So much for date night.” Dean took Cas’s hand, and they quickly started to get themselves out of there. Running like maniacs as they pushed through the endless corn.

“I actually enjoyed myself today. You know, before the whole being drugged and left for dead part.”

“Really? That was my favorite part.” Dean joked, squeezing Cas’s hand as they made their way to safety. “You think all the stuff we bought was drugged?”

“Won’t stop me from having another donut.”

“Man, I love you.”

[quillquiver]

and it’s good

DeanCas coda to 15x19: ‘Inherit the Hearth’

He hasn’t stopped praying.

From an empty world to one filled with people, Dean has gone to his knees every night—on the floor, the gravel, the dirt—and prayed. Head down. Face pressed to his knuckles. Dear Cas…

From each failed plan to their eventual, anti-climactic victory, Dean shares it all. And when it’s all over, when they wake up the morning after with no Jack, no Cas and no world to save, it’s bittersweet. Confusing. Like being released into the wild after living in a cage.

Where does he go from here? What does he do?

What does he want?

Sam doesn’t have a problem finding his own answers, but then again, he never has; he was the one with the life outside The Life: the college boy, the dreamer. Dean… Dean needs some time to adjust. Regroup. Grieve, maybe—whatever the hell that looks like. So, he serves himself a bottle of Jack, grabs a box of Pop Tarts, and makes his way to his recliner. First day of freedom? Dr. Sexy and sweet oblivion sound awesome.

“Hey, uh, what’re you—” Sam cuts himself off, skidding to a halt in the doorway of the Dean Cave. He’s got that pinched look on his face, the one that means: inevitable bitch face, concerned edition. Dean waves him off.

“Chilling out,” he mutters, taking a long pull from the bottle. “Figure I deserve a vacation.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “A vacation.”

“Yeah, genius. A vacation. You know, a little me time?” Dean takes another pull. “You got a problem with that?”

Sam shifts his weight. Frowns at the floor. It’s weird to see him like this; he’s so big, now, but that move is straight out of his teen years—when he’d been gangly and awkward and angry and unsure. He looks up, resolved, and Dean heaves an internal sigh. Whatever the fuck Sam is trying to do, he doesn’t want any part in it.

“What if you come with me?”

“Nope.”

“Dean—”

“Look, Sammy, we fought the big fight, we won, there ain’t nothing left to do,” Dean says reasonably, bitterly, turning back to the DVD menu. “So I don’t wanna go into town, or to the store, or wherever else you’re planning on gallivanting to today. I’m gonna watch my show, drown myself in booze and pass the fuck out, because that is what I’m owed. Capiche?”

“Eileen texted. I’m… I’m going to go get her.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks, how many times a heart can break. He clenches his jaw and swallows the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly. Allows himself a second—one second—of envy and jealousy before he slaps a smile on his face and nods. “Good,” he says. He means it. “You should.”

“So…” Sam trails off.

“So…” Dean echoes.

“…Come with.”

“Sam, I’m not gonna crash your romantic reunion okay? That’s weird.”

“Dean—”

“Sam.” And there’s more that comes out in that word than he ever intended. It hangs heavy in the air between them before dropping to the ground like a stone. Loud. Shattering on impact. Dean thinks his voice might have cracked and his vision is blurring because this pity? This is fucking worse. Shoving a Pop Tart in his mouth, Dean chews with his mouth open in the vain hope that his table manners will prove an adequate distraction, but that shit hasn’t worked for a long time.

It tastes like sawdust.

“Just go,” he says. “You have to go, man.”

It’s as much a plea for his brother as it is for himself, and for one long, terrifying moment Dean thinks Sam’s going to refuse. That he’s gonna be dragged across the country to witness his brother find happiness in a way he will never be able to have.

…But Sam is kind, not cruel, and when those big eyes of his fill with tears, Dean has never been so happy to have given himself up. He watches as his little brother’s shoulders slump. As he readjusts his duffle.

“I’ll be home in two days,” Sam says. “If you’re dead, I’m gonna pissed.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean replies, forcing himself to tease. To be excited. He deserves this. “Go sing in the rain or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Sam volleys back, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. He looks so happy, and Dean can’t stop himself from mirroring the expression. It hits him all at once, then—a sucker punch to the gut, the heart—that no matter what, he did right by his little brother. That he’s grown up to be smart, and kind and caring, and now he can be happy. And Dean—Dean’ll figure it out. But Sam’s taken care of and that’s… good. That’s a lot.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Mm.”

“I love you,” Sam says. He’s seven and thirty-seven and Dean feels something inside himself ease and break all at once.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”

Sam grins.

***

There’s no more frozen pizza.

It’s already a fucking travesty that the pizza place doesn’t deliver to their secret underground bunker, but Jack polished off the last two pies—and while it’s a little bit hilarious to think of the ‘New God’ (his kid) scarfing down shitty plain cheese in his pjs, it’s also awful, and painful. So Dean slips on his shoes, grabs his keys, and shoulders on the jacket with Cas’s handprint over his hole-y sleep shirt.

It’s not like he’s sober, but he’s done worse.

It feels like a shitty pizza day, so Dean makes a beeline for the Wal-Mart and its frozen section, stocking up on two of every topping from the cheapest brand they’ve got. He grabs popcorn, chips, twizzlers and margarita mix, because fuck it, and smiles at the cashier. It’s not an epic romantic reunion, but this is what normal people do, right? They take an entire day and wallow without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Dean’s cradling his spoils, twizzler hanging out of his mouth, shuffling out of the garage when—

He freezes.

The kitchen. There’s someone banging around in the kitchen.

Not like aggressively banging—one quick sweep around the area confirms no signs of forced entry—but just like… moving shit. Washing the dishes from this morning, or getting ready to make something new. Dean’s heart is caught between hope and heartbreak and he forces himself towards the latter. It’s probably Charlie, or Bobby or Jody or Donna or, hell, even Jack or Claire. No one else can get in. And if it’s something dangerous… well, Dean doesn’t have a weapon on him, and his damn pizza’s thawing.

But it’s not Charlie or Bobby or Jody or Donna. It’s not Jack. It’s not Claire.

…It’s Cas; freshly showered, dressed in Dean’s fucking clothes, making himself a sandwich.

He’s beautiful. Dean’s shirt—AC/DC, the one with the mustard stain on the collar—is just a little small on him, and he’s humming, and Dean has to blink once twice three times to make sure he’s not a goddamn mirage but no he’s still there, still scooping grape jelly onto the good bread and then putting the dirty spoon on the counter like a friggin’ heathen and—

“Are you gonna wash that?”

It’s sure as fuck not what he’d meant to say, but it gets the job done. Cas drops the spoon—the spoon—and whirls around like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Dean,” he breathes, like Dean’s name is some kind of benediction. Like it’s important.

Dean clutches his groceries tighter to his chest. “A-Are you…?” he asks. Steps forward. Steps back. Stares because he can’t, he can’t— “Are you real?”

Cas is barefoot. He’s quiet when he steps across the linoleum. His hair is turning fluffy where it’s drying and his eyes are blue and bright and he’s a miracle. “I’m real,” he confirms quietly. His hand twitches by his side, and Dean thinks that’s fair. Thinks that he gets that Cas has reservations because of—because.

But they’re unfounded. 

Dean drops his spoils because they’re an afterthought; nothing is more important than knowing, than reaching out to touch his fingertips to Cas’s shoulder. To his jaw. He can’t stop the tears from springing to his eyes like he can’t stop himself from laughing. Smiling. And suddenly he has Cas in his arms and he smells like Dean’s soap and Sam’s fancy shampoo, and they’re holding—clutching each other, and Dean turns his head because it has to be now he has to say it now: “Cas, I—”

“I know,” Cas interrupts. “You don’t have to—I know.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, voice high with something like hysteria. The whole thing is so absurd, so insane, so fucked, that it’s all he can do to bury his face in Cas’s neck. To squeeze his eyes shut. To talk. “Well, you’re a friggin’ moron,” he says. “And you got no goddamn idea what you’re talking about, because—because you changed me, too, you dick.” Cas’s fingers dig into Dean’s waist and Dean’s heart pounds like it’s trying to escape and his throat is dry and he’s sweating and he’s gonna be sick, he’s gonna die— “A-And I love you.”

He wrenches himself away, then, glaring like he dares Cas to take the words away from him. “Okay?” he asks, rhetorically. Menacingly. It’s a declaration and a confession and a challenge. And Cas meets his stare unflinchingly. He reaches up to thumb at the wetness on the apple of Dean’s cheek. “Okay,” he says. He nods. Leans in. “Okay.” Their mouths brush. “Good.”

It’s not even a real kiss, so Dean can’t be blamed for how he chases; how he breathes good, in faint agreement like a lovesick fool, and moves until they’re kissing good and proper—slow and sweet and then deep and wet and it’s good, it’s so good, he’s so good.

Later, they’ll have to make every thawed pizza. They’ll drink the margarita mix and share the same popcorn bowl and pay no attention to Dr. Sexy playing in the background. They’ll talk about Chuck and Jack and Sam. They’ll stare. They’ll tease. They’ll flirt.

But for now, Cas twists his hands in Dean’s shirt and Dean buries his hands in dark hair. They pause for breath only to come together, again and again and again.

And it’s good.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Memories

Summary: When Dean discovers the reader has abilities she’s never told him about, he breaks things off. But when she wanders back into the Winchester’s lives a year later, he starts to realize there’s more to the situation than just a few lies...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Case Fic

Word Count: 8,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past abuse/violence, angst, sprinkle of fluff

A/N: Also written for @spndeanbingo​​

_____

Exactly three years and twenty two days after meeting the Winchesters it happened. Two and a half years of dating Dean. Countless nights in motel rooms, in the bunker, on hunts. Cuts, stitches, laughs. Colds and fevers. Being worried sick over one another and nearly dying for each other more than once.

You finally did it.

Dean saw it.

And he was so angry you didn’t even know how to respond.

You didn’t even say a word as he threw a pair of special cuffs on you. You didn’t mention how you weren’t a demon and the cuffs were useless on you. You didn’t put up a fight when you were sat down in the backseat and he drove the two of you back to the bunker.

You were quiet as you got out of the car, Dean not even saying a word as you headed straight for the dungeon without being told. He slammed the door shut after you as you sighed. You took a seat in the chair and slipped out of the cuffs with a little effort, the door opening not long after.

“How did you do that? The cuffs. You’re a demon,” said Dean as he walked straight over to you. 

“I’m not a demon,” you said. “You know it’s me, Y/N. Just-”

“What the hell are you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you, his hand reaching behind his back and pulling out an angel blade.

“I’m human. I just…” you trailed off as you looked at your lap.

“Just what,” he said, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up.

“Do not treat me like I’m some monster. I saved your life two hours ago. You would be dead if I hadn’t done that. Do not treat me like the bad guy,” you said. He dropped his hand and you saw him hold up the blade.

“Talk.”

“I have certain...abilities,” you said. “One’s I haven’t used in years.”

“So you’ve been lying to me for years then, hm?” he said. 

“It’s not the abilities that pisses you off. It’s that I never told you, isn’t it,” you said. Dean cleared his throat and started to walk away, shoving the blade in his back pocket before he returned with crossed arms. “Dean-”

“You saved me, you get a pass. You have ten minutes to load up your stuff and leave,” he said.

“Dean. I-”

“This isn’t a white lie, Y/N,” he snapped, his face hard as you stood up. “This...this is whatever trust we had being over. If I can’t trust you, I can’t be near you. It’s that simple.”

“I never intended to use those abilities ever again. It’s not something hereditary. It would never have been of any consequence to anyone. I’m human. I didn’t tell you-”

“You didn’t tell me. I told you so much shit,” he said, the hard exterior starting to crack. “I told you about hell. About all the shit I did to souls. About the shit that was done to me. I never told anyone that. No one. That’s just one thing. I told you all of it. Every goddamn second and you...you…”

“It’s a very long story,” you said quietly. “A very long and horrible story that I was too scared to ever tell you. So I lied. I lied about a lot.”

“I don’t even know you,” he said. You reached out to grab his hand but he stepped away.

“Dean, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you said, trying to make your voice as soft as possible.

“You already did,” he said dryly, closing his eyes. “Please go. Don’t come back.”

“I-”

“I’m going out. Be gone by the time I get back.”

One Year Later

“Dean, we got another one,” said Sam. You lifted your head wearily, blinking your eyes open to spot Sam looking down at you. “Y/N?”

“‘ammy,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes again. Within a few seconds you were lifted up in his strong arms. You were drifting in and out, suddenly in the backseat of Baby and then in the infirmary in the bunker. After a little while you opened your eyes and sat up, feeling a bandage on your head. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, immediately plopping back down.

“Sit,” said Dean. You looked behind yourself, Dean standing at a table, most of the lights in the room dimmed down. He spun around with a bowl in his hands and a tray of supplies. You recognized the needle and he was ripping off the gauze and stitching up your forehead before you knew it.

You hissed and he said nothing.

“Cas should be back in the morning. He can heal you then,” he said.

He worked quietly for a few minutes, new gauze stuck on your head when he was finished. He quickly left and hit off the light. You sat there until you heard footsteps, Sam poking his head in and carrying a tray with grilled cheese and tomato soup.

“Hey,” he said, setting it down on the nightstand.

“Hi, Sam,” you said.

“You were out most of the day. I thought you might be hungry,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Where did you go? You were here and then one day, you were gone. It’s not like you to screw up a hunt like that either.”

“I broke Dean’s trust,” you said. 

“There’s more to it than that,” he said.

“I’m a monster,” you said, laughing dryly when Sam stared at you. “I’m human but I’m a monster.”

“You’re one of the kindest people I know,” said Sam.

“I should go,” you said as you got to your feet. You took a leery step forward and another, Sam grabbing your hand.

“Y/N. What’s going on? You’re not a monster,” he said.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for trying to save me, Sam. But you can’t,” you said. You shrugged out of his grip and took a deep breath. You wound up outside of the bunker, by the bottom of the hill. Your head was spinning but you had enough head start that he wouldn’t find you.

You were staring at the river’s water when you heard a branch snap behind you and a flashlight light up the ground nearby.

“Not a very good hiding spot,” said Dean.

“I thought it was,” you said, closing your eyes, resting your chin on your knees again. “I’m too tired to fight Dean.”

“Good. It means I’ll win then,” he said. He stood next to you, clicking off the flashlight. “You told me about this spot, you know.”

“Once I told you.”

“I used to listen to you,” he said. 

“I don’t care about a scar on my forehead, Dean,” you said. “I’m not going back.”

“Rookie move getting caught on a hunt like that,” he said. “I thought you had super powers.”

“There’s a cost to using them,” you said quietly.

“You never said that before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said.

“What does it cost?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you whispered.

“Your soul?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “The only thing it ever cost me was you. I’m still a monster and a liar. Using them just reminds me of that.”

“Sammy mentioned you look ill,” said Dean. “I thought you looked scared.”

“You’d be doing me a favor by using that angel blade on me at this point,” you said.

“I’ve never wanted to kill you. I’m not going to kill you. You broke us was all,” he said.

“Yes. I did. So why are you here?” you asked.

“I heard there was a long and horrible story, that it might help me understand,” he said.

“No,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you looked over at him. He stared and swallowed, glancing out at the water.

“Why not?” he asked.

“The time for that was a year ago. You didn’t want to hear it and I respected that. Respect my decision,” you said.

“Alright,” he said, sliding his hand into your coat pocket. You reached inside and felt the ball shape, narrowing your eyes. “Hex bag. You’re coming back with me.”

“First you tell me to go away. Now you make me come back. Take it out and let me leave, Dean,” you said.

“Not without that story. It’s a dick move, trust me, I know,” he said. You plucked out the hex bag and held it in your hand. It burned up in your hand, Dean wide eyed for a moment. “How…”

“Just let me run away. I won’t bother you ever again,” you said as you walked past him. His hand caught your arm and you closed your eyes, Dean gasping behind you. You heard him fall over as you looked back, his hands tied in front of him along with his feet.

“What…” he asked.

“You can’t get out of that, Dean. It’s the same stuff they use in Hell. When I’m away, I’ll remove it,” you said. You started to walk away and you slapped a piece of the material over his mouth when he shouted. “I’m sorry. It’s for-”

You felt yourself get tackled on the ground, your head knocking back against the paved path. 

“Sammy, don’t hurt her,” Dean said and you glanced over, your hold on him gone as he stood up. You tried to push the two of them away but your head hurt too much. You put your hands on it and curled up in a ball. “Call Cas. Tell him we need him home. Now.”

“Morning sunshine,” said Dean as you flickered open your eyes. You looked around, in a dimly lit old room. You touched your head and sat up, Dean setting down his book at the desk. “Cas healed you up. He said your head was looking like a smoothie in there.”

“Felt like it,” you said.

“You should have died like, back at that house on the hunt,” said Dean.

“I know,” you said.

“Apparently you have a ‘dark energy’ about you,” said Dean.

“Yet I’m not in the dungeon...or the bunker,” you said. Dean sighed and looked over your head, your gaze going up to the ceiling. “What is that?”

“Bit of a pain in the ass for me,” said Dean. “We don’t know what you are and that little trick by the river was pretty impressive but that sigil? Anyone with that symbol carved in them ain’t leaving a one mile square area. Two man minimum.”

“You’re holding me here,” you said.

“In this cabin and the surrounding area. I can’t leave either. Not until that gets removed and Cas is the only one that can undo it,” said Dean. 

“I can make you undo it,” you said. You stared him down, Dean frowning when he saw you tie his hands together in front of him. 

“Go ahead and do that. But I literally can’t undo it. We’re both stuck and Sam and Cas aren’t coming back unless it’s an emergency,” said Dean. You got up from the bed and went down a short hall, Dean following you and out through a front door. The air was chilly and you saw the sun was barely up. You walked and walked and walked until suddenly you bounced off of something. You put a hand against it, Dean sighing behind you. “Unless you’re God level powerful, you ain’t getting out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Let me go,” you snapped. Dean held up his hands and you sighed, releasing him before you started to walk around.

“Y/N. Cas carved it into our bones. Rowena put the spell up. We are as stuck here as the day is long,” said Dean. 

“You can’t make me go back inside,” you said as you sat down and leaned back against the invisible wall. 

“I think you’re lying to me again. Something is wrong and you know it. You look sick. You’re weak. You-”

“Go away before I shut your mouth for you,” you said. He nodded and left, going back into the cabin. You sighed and wrapped your arms around your knees. “Castiel if you can hear me, come and take this off of me. Please. I just want to be left alone.”

One Week Later

“What do you want for dinner?” asked Dean as you stared out the window. It’d been raining all day. The cabin was nice and clean, modern and nice. The bathrooms were spa like and you seemed to somehow have internet all the way out in the middle of nowhere.

It would have been a great and peaceful vacation spot if there wasn’t the overwhelming threat in the air that you couldn’t leave.

“Y/N?” asked Dean.

“Whatever you want is fine,” you said quietly, watching the water roll down the panes. Dean walked over and handed you a blanket, running his hand over your head. “You will never get me to talk, Dean.”

“I was angry and I think we both know I had a right to be. But I think we both know I should have given you a chance to explain yourself and I didn’t. We both screwed up. When you’re ready to talk, we will. Until then...we can stay here and learn to be friends again. You’re safe here. You can try to recover from whatever it is that is running you down.”

“You stuck me here so I can’t go on a hunt,” you said. “Didn’t you.”

“That was part of it,” said Dean. 

“I’m not weak.”

“You can kick my ass all on your own. With these abilities you have? Pretty sure you win every time without lifting a finger,” he said. “Maybe you’re strong, way stronger than I’ve ever been. But you are sick. I can see it all over your face. You can recover here until we figure out what to do next.”

“I know what to do next but you won’t let me leave,” you growled. 

“This isn’t up for debate.”

You turned your head, Dean shoving your arm after a few seconds. He pointed at the tie over his mouth and you shrugged.

“You speaking isn’t up for debate,” you said. He rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen, starting to move some pots around.

An hour later he shoved your arm again.

“What?” you said. Dean pointed at the food on two plates. You stood up and went to the table, sitting down and digging in. Dean took a seat across from you, grunting. You slurped down your pasta and stared at him. He scratched at the tie and you went back to eating, his eyes widening for a moment. “It’s not fun having someone control you, is it? Enjoy your Red Special.”

He narrowed his eyes and stood up, going to the bedroom he’d been using and slamming the door shut. 

After fifteen minutes and a few washed pots later, you went to the room, Dean sitting on the floor, his eyes red and puffy.

“Fuck, Dean,” you said, removing the tie and kneeling down. He wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Red Special,” said Dean. “Red Special. That’s the first step in a Red Special and you know that. I told you all about Hell but I never told you the names of certain things so how the fuck do you know the name of it?”

You got up and tried to leave, Dean on his feet and grabbing your wrist quickly.

“Tell me. You owe me for that just now,” he said.

“Because I’ve gone through a Red Special before too,” you whispered. You shut your eyes and felt Dean’s hands on your shoulders, guiding you back into his room. He sat you down on the bed and told you not to move. He left for a few minutes before you opened your eyes, Dean returning with a sandwich and glass of water for himself. He shut the door and sat down at the head of the mattress, eating quietly as you sighed.

“You went to Hell?” he eventually asked.

“No.”

“...You had to. There’s no way you could survive-”

“I don’t want to tell you, Dean. Don’t make me tell you,” you said. He leaned over and took your hand, lacing your fingers together. You swallowed and shut your eyes.

“Were you...were you going to…” he trailed off as you shook your head.

“No. I could never do that to you. I shouldn’t have done what I did. My head just...it gets dark sometimes. It gets dark more often. The longer we stay here, the bigger the odds that I end up hurting you,” you said.

“Do you think it’s these abilities making that happen?” he asked.

“I know it is,” you said, a crack of thunder overhead.

“Then let’s try to take it away. Bare minimum information. Tell me and Sam and Cas the bare minimum you think we need to know and we’ll save the story for someday later,” said Dean. “I promise.”

Your whole body shuddered and he gave you a smile.

“S’okay. It’ll be okay,” said Dean. 

“The torturer’s curse,” you said quietly. Dean tilted his head at you and you gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s called the torturer’s curse. There’s no way to remove it.”

“We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Three Weeks Later

“Hi guys,” you said as Sam, Cas and Rowena walked into the cabin. “I made cookies earlier if you want some.”

“Maybe later. Let’s see if we can get you feeling better first,” said Sam.

“Did you bring the cuffs?” you asked.

“One pair of demonic, witch and curse proof cuffs,” said Cas, pulling them from his pocket. You nodded and tried to relax, shaking your head after a moment. Cas put them on and you saw Dean leave his bedroom, shaking his arms out. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I pissed her off this morning so you know, been fun around here today,” said Dean.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Hey,” he said gently. “We’re gonna get you fixed up and you won’t be feeling any of this bad crap anymore.”

“I hope not,” you said. You took a seat at the table, Rowena and Sam moving around and setting things up. You had to give them some of your blood, the second it was in the bowl your whole body starting to buzz. “Hurry. It doesn’t like that.”

Rowenna threw something in the bowl and a puff of smoke appeared. She said a few words and then looked at you.

“Well?” she asked.

“I don’t feel any…” you said, quickly closing your eyes, everything off. You fell over, passing out for a few seconds.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Dean, shaking your shoulder as you woke up. Your whole body felt lighter. You tried to do something you could before, anything, but none of it seemed to work.

“Hey,” you smiled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Cas put a hand on your head and nodded.

“I don’t sense the energy in her anymore,” he said.

“It’s gone?” asked Dean. You nodded and let out a laugh.

“It’s gone. It’s gone,” you said as they helped you sit up.

“How did you get a curse like that in the first place? That’s very, very dark magic,” said Rowenna as Sam took off your cuffs.

“It was a unique situation. It won’t happen again.”

“She won’t talk about what happened,” said Sam that night in the bunker. You were laying in your old bed, the boys talking in hushed whispers outside your room.

“I’m not pushing her. This curse was fucking with her head for a while and she’s had it who knows how long and she needs a little peace and quiet,” said Dean.

“Dean. The curse she had is not normal. It is old. The book we found the cure in...they only use the curse in something called a Hellscape. No one’s ever seen it in action. How the hell did she get it?” 

“I’m guessing she’s been to someplace called Hellscape then, genius. Lay off. She feels like shit. Go find a nice easy hunt for us or something,” said Dean. You heard the door open after a moment and Dean enter, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Need anything sweetheart?”

“Do you ever wish you never existed?” you asked. You felt him move around behind you and lay down, warm arms pulling you into an embrace. “That’s not an answer.”

“Maybe I used to, on bad days sometimes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

“I’m not sure what the point is,” you said.

“Of life?” he asked as you nodded. “I think you try to leave this place better than you found it.”

“I don’t think that’s why I’m here,” you said.

“Why do you think you are then?” 

“To be miserable,” you said quietly. “A vast majority of my life has been a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Then I got out of it when I found you guys and then I fucked that up and I’m back in the nightmare.”

“You’re not,” said Dean, resting his head against your back. “You’re not, I swear.”

“Maybe someday I’ll believe that,” you said as you shut your eyes.

“Y/N. Whatever you’re not telling me...it’s okay. I know it’s big. I’ll be here if you ever decide you want to share it. If not, that’s okay too,” he said.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey,” said Sam the next morning at breakfast. “I found a hunt in Norfolk. It looks like a simple demon hunt if you guys want in.”

“Yeah that sounds good,” said Dean as you nodded. You went back to your eggs, closing your eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Never better.”

“I think it’s that gym teacher. I had a bad feeling about him,” said Sam in the motel later that day. “No demon though.”

“Him and that assistant coach are weirdos,” said Dean. “You see the way they were looking at Y/N?”

“They’re not the person you’re looking for,” you said as you changed out of your fed suit, Sam quickly turning away. 

“How do you know that?” asked Dean. You sighed and slipped on some jeans and t shirt, plopping down on the bed. “Y/N.”

“Because this is my hometown,” you said. They looked at one another and scrunched up their faces. “I’m not from where I said I was. I lied about a lot. I get it. I went to high school with those guys, that’s why they were looking at me like that.”

“Well it has to be a teacher,” said Sam.

“No it doesn’t. It isn’t. I know exactly who it is,” you said, going to your bag and shoving your gun in your jeans.

“Care to share with the class?” asked Dean. 

“It’s my dad.”

“Your what?” he asked. “Your dad is dead.”

“A lie. My mom is but not him.”

“So a demon didn’t kill your parents?” asked Sam. “Or just your mom?”

“I killed my mom,” you said. Both of them shared a look, Dean looking you up and down. “I had my reasons.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, shaking his head. “Ignoring that bombshell, how do you know it’s your dad?”

“He’s the most evil thing in this town,” you said. 

“They didn’t...you know,” said Sam.

“Hurt me? Oh, I wish all they’d done to me was hurt me,” you said. Sam swallowed and you saw Dean nod. 

“Sammy. Go grab some dinner for us. Please,” said Dean. Sam excused himself but you knew Dean only did it for your benefit. “I’m starting to get the picture.”

“What picture is that.”

“Abusive parents with a kid that ends up having a horrible dark curse on them? I have a feeling you didn’t get that from your hunting days,” he said.

“I’ve had it since I was sixteen. I didn’t turn it on until I used an ability for the first time at eighteen when I got out of here for good. Every time I use them, the darker it got,” you said.

“Your dad do that to you?” he asked. “Curse you?”

“Indirectly. You know who gave me the actual curse,” you said. Dean tilted his head. “Alistair.”

You saw his face go white and you nodded.

“Alistair...you knew…” said Dean.

“I knew him before you did. My parents used to call him Ali when I was little,” you said.

“What?” breathed out Dean. “Don’t tell me...tell me he didn’t go near you as a child. Tell me that psychopath wasn’t near you as a kid.”

“I could but it’d be a lie,” you said. He sat down on the bed and ran his hand over his mouth. “It’s my dad that killed those two girls. I know it. Let’s just go deal with him and move on.”

“We are not ending the conversation there. Alistair? That’s-“

“Minimum information,” you said. “I already told you more than enough.”

“Y/N-“

“You of all people can understand why I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I talked about it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to and I did and you know what? After I did, I felt a little better. I trusted you enough to tell you.”

“Dean,” you said, pacing around the room. “It’s not a trust thing. I’ve never told anyone and if you ever find out the whole truth, not the scraps you know, you’ll never look at me the same. I know I’m broken but you didn’t make me feel like it. You guys never did and I know you’ll see what I really am if you ever hear the truth. I’m sorry but I can’t go through that.”

“So you think I was broken?” asked Dean. You rolled your eyes and he stood up. “Did you lie about that too?”

“Go fuck yourself, Dean,” you said, grabbing your backpack. “I never lied about anything like that. You know what? Thanks for everything but I’m gone.”

You stormed out of there, Dean barely getting to the door by the time you were down the block.

Four Hours Later

“Ouch,” you said as you groaned awake. You were cold and your body instantly recognized the chill. You sat upright, the air leaving your lungs. 

It took a moment to realize you were panicking, breaths coming in little sharp jagged beats. 

“Y/N,” you heard from the dark side of the basement. The voice sang song and you backed up against the cinderblock wall. You could feel the shirt you had on now and the light cotton shorts, feel the band on your ankle as you watched him step into the light. “Y/N. Relax, honey. Don’t work yourself up.”

“I…” you said, remembering sneaking into the house and then it all going dark.

“You promised that someday you’d come back and kill me. I took precautions and now...we can go back to the way things were,” he said as he knelt down.

“Dad, don’t,” you said, burrowing back into the corner.

“Hunters aren’t as invincible as they say. I’ll make you a deal. You be a good girl and let Dad have a bit of blood to sell off every so often since you have that been to hell thing going for you, and I will leave the townsfolk alone. Hm? How’s that sound?” he asked. “Or better yet, you be good and I won’t have to do that thing you don’t like.”

“Alistair is dead,” you said as you finally found your voice.

“I know. But I can fool your mind into believing it’s with him, feeling all of that. I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been gone,” he said. “So. Good girl?”

Your body shook and he smirked.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get back to the way things were soon enough.”

He stood up and pet your head, walking away before he hit the light outside the door and locked it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to use your abilities but they were gone.

The Winchesters were your only hope.

It felt like a day had gone by before the door opened. Your father had already paid you one unpleasant visit and you weren’t ready for another.

“Oh shit,” said Dean as the room filled with light. You covered your eyes before you dared expose them to the brightness, Dean rushing over and cupping your cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “I forgive you, for all of it. I promise. Let’s get you someplace safe.”

“You can’t cut it,” you said. “You need to break the seal.”

“Do you know how to do that?” he asked.

“You got a knife?” you asked. Dean pulled out a knife and handed it to you. You took a deep breath and held the tip to your foot. You dug into the flesh and sighed. You took the blade and cut into the band, the thing snapping open after a moment.

“What is that?” he asked.

“You can’t run that way,” you said. You stood up and Dean went with you. He helped you walk, pausing when you stopped halfway. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you shakily said, stepping over the midpoint of the room, gritting your teeth as you got to the door. Dean picked you up and carried you past the storage area and up the basement stairs, walking you quietly out to the front step outside.

“Where’s my dad?” you asked. 

“Sammy got him,” said Dean. “He’s in the office. I went looking for you.”

“Go check on Sam for me. I don’t trust my dad,” you said.

“If I see him, he’s getting a bullet,” said Dean. You nodded and Dean shrugged off his jacket, putting it over your shoulders before he headed inside. It was warm and smelled like him and you let yourself curl up in the warm safe feeling for a few minutes before you realized Dean hadn’t come back. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stood and looked back at the house. You reached into the pocket of the jacket and pulled out Dean’s spare gun. It wasn’t his normal spare. You looked at it and recognized it as the the other one in the set he’d gotten for you years ago. 

You took that as a sign and slowly limped into the house, gun raised as you headed towards the back.

You turned inside and saw your Dad standing by the fireplace, Dean and Sam both knocked out on the floor.

“Winchesters will sell nicely,” he said. “Pieces of course. You will be punished appropriately.”

“No,” you said quietly, pointing the gun. He glanced at you and the weapon flew out of your hands. You were forced down to the floor and you gasped, staring up at him.

“You lose. You always lose,” he said. He grabbed your arm and started to pull you back towards the hall and presumably down to the basement. You caught Dean lazily staring at you. He poked his left side wearily and you reached into his inner left jacket pocket. 

The sound of a switchblade opening was deafening in the room, your father looking down just as you stabbed it into his thigh. You pulled it out and then scrambled backwards, your Dad stalking over you.

A gunshot rang out and he dropped to the ground. You rolled away, looking back to see Dean pointing his gun. 

“You okay?” he asked.

You got to your feet and walked out of the room, sitting down on the front step. You tucked your head between your knees, a gentle hand on your back a few minutes later.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“Hey,” said Dean the next morning as you finished off your hash brown by the water. “Neat little diner they got around here.”

“S’good pancakes,” you said, popping the last piece in your mouth.

“You uh, didn’t say much last night. Or this morning.”

“Didn’t feel like talking,” you said, swinging your feet from where you sat on the railing. 

“You okay?”

“I feel better but I can’t believe it’s actually over,” you said. “I was always too scared to ever come back here.”

“I get it,” said Dean, leaning back against the railing, staring at the diner. “Talking...helps. Even if you were a pain in the ass about it back then.”

“You know when we met, I was so jealous of you. I really hated you,” you said.

“You did? Must have been my charming personality that won you over,” he chuckled.

“You were so happy and you and Sam...you have someone to love you, always. I know you weren’t happy like most people are but you got to have a little bit, a few moments at least. You guys always had each other and I wanted that so bad. I wish I’d had an older brother like you or a little one or something when I was a kid. You have no idea how screwed up I am, Dean,” you said.

“That’s funny,” he said, turning his head towards your own. “You’re one of the most normal people I know.”

“Dean.”

“I don’t know how or why but you are a good person, Y/N. Your parents from the little I do know were horrible. But you’re good and kind. You’re the opposite of screwed up.”

“I don’t feel like it,” you said.

“You will. Eventually,” he said, smiling softly. “Trust me. I learned from this really hot chick all the best ways to help.”

You glanced down and he moved behind you, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

“I should have told you the truth back then,” you said.

“I should have been less of a dick. It’s okay. Nobody’s perfect,” he said.

“My parents made a demon deal,” you said, Dean shifting around to sit beside you. “You saw that house. My parents were nobody’s when they were younger. They wanted money and power and they met with a crossroads demon. They presented a unique deal. My soul for the deal,” you said. “I was almost two at the time I think.”

“That’s not possible,” said Dean.

“I know. The demon started to walk away when my parents got creative. Ten years from then, I’d go away for five years, with a demon. They could do whatever they wanted to me. The demon wasn’t interested at first but Alistair popped up all excited and said he wanted to test out some new stuff or something and then agreed. I spent my childhood knowing it was coming. Then I went away and lived in the Hellscape for five years. It’s like bringing hell to earth. It was basically this hidden away cabin in the woods. Apparently it can only be done every so often and needs a whole bunch of stuff and I was the lucky participant,” you said.

“Five years in hell or five years up here?” asked Dean.

“Up here.”

“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. “How many years…”

“If a month is ten years…” you said. “It wasn’t great. I blocked out a lot. I can’t even remember most of it. It was weird. I remember the pain but the duration is like a really crappy month or something. But yeah, I hung out in basically hell for five years before the deal was up. Alistair though, he liked me. He said I took a long time to break. He-”

“How long.”

“Hundred years,” you said, Dean nodding. “Dean...it wasn’t like what you went through. That was hell. This was his playground. Some days I was left alone.”

“Can I hear more?” he asked.

“So when my time was up, Alistair gave me the curse. He told me all about it, told me it would strip away the human emotions so I wouldn’t feel so bad. He encouraged me to rip my parents to shreds,” you said. “I wanted to too but when I got back home, I turned into the scared little girl again. I pretended to be a normal teenager at school and then home was...bad. But I met this boy. This guy was following me after one of the football games when I was walking home and this boy chased him off. Ricky. He was the gearhead kid and I was a stupid cheerleader and he was kind. He reminds me of you actually. We dated, secretly, and I started to open up and Ricky was so smart and it turned out he was a hunter’s kid.”

“Ricky Norris?” asked Dean.

“How do you…” you trailed off, Dean smiling sadly.

“Ricky was my friend when I was a little kid. It was rare to meet other hunter’s with kids. I didn’t see him much but I knew Ricky. I never heard from him after we were like twelve,” said Dean.

“His dad had stopped hunting. He and Ricky tried to help me. They helped me learn that my parents threats about going back to Alistair were lies, that it was a one time only thing. He taught me how to fight and what a safe home was and I was going to runaway, Ricky and I were during senior year. But he never showed up and I found out he’d been killed by my parents. So I went home and I didn’t think twice about killing my mom. She and my dad hurt the one person who ever loved me so I killed her and I told him next time I saw him I’d get rid of him too. Then I ran and I hunted and I got so low and down and I wanted that feeling of being loved so bad and then bam, you and Sam walk into my life and you suffocated me with it and I love you two more than you’ll ever know.”

“We know. It’s this thing called unconditional love. We know, Y/N and you got it too,” said Dean.

“You know Ricky had to explain that to me? I understood it. I saw it with my friends and their families but feeling it wasn’t something I ever got until I met you. Ricky tried, he did, but I was too scared to feel it the way you’re supposed to,” you said. “And he and his dad wound up dead because of me.”

“Hunters help people, sweetheart. If I know Ricky, me and him would have been fighting over the chance to help you out. Nothing that ever happened was you fault. You were a child. Barely a toddler. You did nothing wrong. Life handed you all the crap at once it seems,” he said.

“I couldn’t even sleep in my room upstairs. It was the pretend room. I was always in that basement,” you said, Dean putting an arm over your shoulders. “There’s so much they did.”

“All those people and things that hurt you are dead and I’m not gonna let anything else hurt you again. Neither is Sammy,” he said.

“I know,” you said, looking at your hands. “We lost a year because I wouldn’t tell you all of this.“

“What’s a year? We got this place, we got forever upstairs. Don’t sweat it. It’s okay,” said Dean. He took one of your hands and held it in his lap. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry I-“

“Stop apologizing. Please,” said Dean. “We’re good. It’s all good.”

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“How about we take a little break from hunting, get everyone feeling better,” he said.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Guys,” you sighed from the backseat a week later. “Why are we driving to some middle of nowhere town?”

“First off, we live in a middle of nowhere town too. Second, it’s a forty minute drive which is nothing. Third, it’s a surprise,” said Dean.

“I wanted to lay in bed and eat junk food,” you whined.

“We have a feeling you’re gonna like this,” said Sam. You sighed and a few minutes later they pulled up outside of a house. You followed them out of the car, Dean pursing his lips as he walked around Baby.

“So we may have been working a case this week without you knowing,” said Dean. “Yours.”

“Mine?” you asked.

“Your Dad said some stuff after you left that office last week. Tried to bargain us into helping him, before we finished him off,” said Sam.

“He said something that me and Sam looked into. It turns out, he was telling the truth,” said Dean.

“What?” you asked quietly.

“See that house?” asked Dean, pointing behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“That’s your house,” said Sam with a big smile.

“I’m not following,” you said.

“That is your house. That is where your parents and brothers live,” said Dean, a smile spreading across his cheeks.

“I don’t…” you said.

“The people you thought were your parents? They stole you at a park to use you for their demon deal. Your real parents are inside,” said Dean. 

“Real…” you said, both of them nodding.

“They’ve looked for decades. They ain’t half bad either. Your Dad had a blurry picture of you from your first Wendigo hunt. A little more resources and they might have eventually found you on your own,” said Sam.

“Did you talk to them?” you asked, staring at the house.

“A little. They didn’t believe us at first. I sent them a picture of you and that sealed the deal. They’re good people, Y/N. Whatever you want to do next is up to you, that’s their words,” said Dean.

You turned and headed for the front door, the boys hanging back by the car.

You swallowed as you rang the doorbell, your heart jumping into your throat when you heard someone on the other side.

An older man opened it, a cautious look on his face that turned into a long stare.

“Hi,” you said. He quickly stepped outside and hugged you, picking you up. “You’re my dad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m your dad,” he laughed. “I’m your dad, kiddo.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, sitting on the back porch a few hours later. “Your mom makes like one of my top ten pies. Ever.”

“I’ll have to send you kids home with one,” she said as she sat back down next to you in the swing seat, your Dad on the other side.

“So what about school? You wanted to be a doctor when you were little,” he said.

“No she didn't. You were obsessed with trying to be a princess,” said your mom. Dean nearly choked on his pie as he started to laugh. 

“Watch it Winchester,” you teased. “I uh, I left school and got my GED.”

“Y/N had a rough go of it,” said Dean.

“The people that took you...did they treat you okay?” asked your mom.

You glanced at Dean and took a deep breath.

“I found some people along the way that became my real family,” you said.

“Y/N. You don’t have to tell us. We’re just glad to have you back,” said your dad.

“I’m okay,” you said, smiling at Dean. “I can’t believe you had four boys.”

“Well the twins were a surprise,” said your dad. “Never had a girl though aside from you.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, Dean polishing off another piece and looking at your mom.

“Does he want more?” she whispered.

“It’s Dean. He always wants more pie, mom.”

“Hey,” said Dean that night as you wandered into the guest room at your parents house. “Was today good?”

“Very,” you said. “I’m not giving up hunting but knowing I have this is incredible.”

“You’ve had a rough go of it. Sam and I wanted to give you your family back,” said Dean as he sat down on the bed and got down to his boxers.

“Dean,” you said, crawling behind him and giving him a hug. “You gave me a family a long time ago. It just got bigger today is all.”

“We love you. We wanted you to know you have more than us though,” he said.

“The Winchester’s have always been enough. I’m so incredibly lucky I have you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “You gave me so much, Dean. I’m so happy to have met my parents and brothers but I’m a Winchester. I’m always going to be that.”

“You have choices now,” he said.

“Yeah. I know what I pick. Same thing as always,” you said. He smiled and cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. “Thank you for today and how sweet you’ve been all week. I’ve been pretty awful to you lately and I never took care of you at all.”

“You were cursed and scared. I thought I told you to stop apologizing,” said Dean, brushing his thumb over your face. “I am okay. You can take care of me too but it’s give and take and I’m good with giving right now. You still need to heal. It’s only been a week. So let’s take a few days and get to know your family. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean swinging his legs up onto the bed and giving you another kiss. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

_______

[magickastiel]

Somewhere Off in the Dark (Dean/Cas) 7.3k

It’s easier to be with Cas in the dark.

Dean hasn’t got to see those eyes at full brightness, boring into his soul. Instead he can just talk and not worry about the embarrassment scalding his face or the discomfort twisting his spine.

It’s dangerous being with Cas in the dark.

Gift for @jackttwist for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! ✨

mild warning for a scene during early s13 so dean is very self-destructive and doesn't care about his own life. It's along the same times as the show but if you're triggered by that, skip from: 'Dean is sick' and pick up again at: "The Empty?" Dean whispers, feeling cold' for the cute stuff!

a03 or keep reading 💖

_

Dean will never get used to waking up and seeing eyes peering back at him.

He starts awake, half-reaching for the gun tucked under his pillow before he can pull himself back. He glares and throws the blanket off his lap, immediately regretting it when the cool night air hits his legs.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel says, voice dry and face impassive. He watches without shame as Dean clambers to his feet, eyes skimming over his legs, his rucked up t-shirt, the scowl on his face.

A chill shoots up Dean’s back and, not for the first time, he wonders how many pairs of eyes Castiel really has. He walks from the couch to Bobby’s kitchen for something to do with his overly observed body.

“I’ll shoot you one day.” He says over his shoulder. “That’ll show you.”

“What will that show me?”

Dean wants to be annoyed but instead he snorts with laughter. Castiel seems to have this affect on him.

“Nothin’. Forget it.” His eyes itch with fatigue and he rubs them with the back of his hand. “You want coffee?”

“I have no need for - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dean turns to lean his back against the counter and almost jumps again when he sees that Castiel has silently followed him to the kitchen. He can count the number of worn tiles between his bare feet and Castiel’s shoes. He has to swallow before he speaks. “Didn’t ask if you needed it. You want some?”

The angel’s eyes travel over him again and Dean feels like an ant under the hot glare of a magnifying glass on a sticky summer’s day.

“Yes.” He says eventually.

“Right.” Coffee.

He potters about, feeling eyes on him wherever he goes. He doesn’t let his hand shake.

By the time they’re sat back on the couch with two half-empty mugs, Dean’s body has loosened as he becomes accustom to the silent scrutiny. There’s no looming threat and no harsh judgement because Castiel is as he always is – curious. Every movement is apparently fascinating to him, every sentence Dean says is worth contemplation and every sip of coffee is a new experience to mull over. Again, Dean is surprised how little it annoys him.

“You remember the first time you woke me up here?” He says after a long pause. “You threatened to throw me back into Hell. Real nice of you.”

In the dark, Dean has to rely on Castiel’s voice to judge his expression. “Yes.” The word sounds solemn, like he’s disappointed that Dean remembers it. “I did say that.”

Dean takes the last glug of coffee to think. There’s an obvious question that’s been lingering between them for the last ten minutes.

“Why did you come here tonight?” He asks and doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

Even though he can’t see him properly, he’s sure Castiel is staring straight at him even as he ponders his answer. It’s another reminder of how alien he is. He doesn’t have that need to look away, to hide his face as his mind races to find the right way to say the right thing. Dean envies him that.

“I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise for what?”

When he speaks again, his tone is unnervingly soft. “Your friends.”

Ellen. Jo.

Dean’s heart clenches and he feels the urge to move, unable to sit still in his grief. His knee knocks against Castiel’s solid thigh but the angel stays perfectly still.

“I should have been with them.” Castiel continues his voice low and smooth. If it wasn’t for the subject matter, Dean might think he was being read to sleep like a troubled child. “I should have protected them.”

“Not your fault.” He mumbles and means it. It never occurred to him to blame Castiel. He’s been too busy blaming himself to consider anyone else’s actions.

“I arrived with them and I should have stayed with them. I let them down. I – I let...”

Castiel is hesitating. This is new behaviour for him and it’s dangerously human.

“I...let you down.”

Dean feels like he’s been doused with cold water. He doesn’t blame Castiel for not wanting to say that. It’s so ridiculously untrue and so goddamn weird to say that he let Dean down specifically. It’s too much focus on him, on them.

“You didn’t let us down, man.”

“You are being kind.” Castiel says in neither admonishment nor gratefulness. He just states it like it’s a sure fact. “Thank you. But I shall endeavour to make it up to you.”

“Oh.” Dean says feeling dumb and strangely warm. “Right. But like I said, nothing to make up for.”

“You are not sleeping.”

He almost gets whiplash at the sudden change in conversation. “Uh well, no, not right now. You did wake me up.”

“Allow me to clarify: you do not sleep enough.” The still air is disturbed by the rustle of his trenchcoat and the sharp clack of the ceramic mug being placed on the table.

“Kind of a lot going on, dude.” Dean says, trying to protest as Castiel pulls his mug from his hands and places that on the table too. “Uhhh, what are you doing?”

“Lie back down.”

Dean does as he’s told but frowns too. He tells himself it’s a good compromise. “You gonna stare at me until I fall asleep or something?”

“I could but I believe that will be unnecessary.” He stands and looms over the couch. He looks intimidating from down here – tall as a skyscraper and dark as a void. Dean clutches at the blanket for something tangible to hold on to. “Your body still hasn’t recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of the last week. And when you sleep you have nightmares thus reliving the pain. You must rest completely to correct this and regain your full strength.”

Dean snorts. “Oh, yeah? So what you gonna do – zap me to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Wait – ”

Two fingertips brush his forehead and he sleeps.

_

Dean can’t stop looking.

Even as Benny regales them with some batshit story, even as he eats his handful of berries, even as he wanders the perimeter of their little camp.

Cas is here.

Like, actually here.

He hadn’t let himself lose hope but it had been slipping. Just around the corner, he’d think. One more fight and he’ll be there. On and on.

And then there he was, alive and washing his face like he’d just woken up after a bad night’s sleep at a motel.

Dean’s eyes flit over to him again. He isn’t used to it yet. They only found him a few hours ago. Man’s gotta bask in having his best friend back.

“Dean? You hear me?”

He sighs and turns back to Benny who, to his credit, doesn’t even look annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Sleeping, shifts, food.”

He snorts. “Got the gist, at least.”

“I’ll take the first shift. Gotta...” He glances over his shoulder at Cas again. He isn’t quite sure what he’s got to do, but he knows it involves Cas.

“Like that, huh?” Benny says, a slight smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?” He mutters, grabbing a stick and poking the meagre fire for something else to focus on.

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He waves a hand, but the smirk hasn’t left his face. “Just startin’ to feel like a third wheel, is all.”

Dean’s face heats unpleasantly. He knows it’s not like that but he can’t quite bring himself to argue about it. Instead he stares into the fire as Benny wanders off to rest. He feels horribly cracked open. He’s gotten used to his hardened shell – Purgatory took all the resilience he had and coated him in it. But the first sight of Cas had split him apart and now his usual racing thoughts have come rushing back with the force of a ten tonne truck. He almost wishes he could go back to how he was yesterday, pure focus and drive.

Now he feels small next to the fire, between a vampire and an angel.

He’s just one slightly shitty human lost in Purgatory.

“Dean?”

Cas joins him suddenly, with that eerie angelic stealth. Dean only just manages to stop himself from jumping like a kid. Cas sits on his left, watching him intently.

Everything is kind of colourless in Purgatory. It drove Dean insane for the first few days; everything seemed slightly off and unreal. Then he got used to it – the lacklustre trees, the blank water, even the fire looked kind of grey.

Cas’ eyes are still very blue.

It’s the first real colour he’s seen in months.

“Dean?” He says again, sounding slightly alarmed. “Are you alright?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. Just...weird to see you, I guess.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. “I...I suppose it is strange to see you too. I have seen you from a distance a few times. If several leviathans caught me at once, it would take me a while to kill all of them. Each time, I was very aware of how you were likely closing in on my location. Then I would catch a glimpse of you through the trees and that was when I knew I needed to get ahead again.”

“You what?!” Dean hisses, only keeping his voice down for Benny’s sake. “You mean you’ve been in spitting distance before and you didn’t say anything?! You could have...” He thinks about the sleepless nights, the desperation to find him alive. “I was afraid you were dead.”

“I am sorry, Dean.” Cas squints and tilts his head a little. Dean feels his anger dissipate. “I wanted nothing more than to join you. Together, I am sure we can conquer almost anything.” Right. That’s a total normal thing to say to someone. “But I was the one who released the leviathans. It was my responsibility to deal with them. If they got to you I would never be able to forgive myself.” His gaze drops to the fire. “I will never be able to forgive myself.”

“Don’t.” Frustration pushes at Dean’s skull, making his eyes water. “Yeah, ok. You did something pretty dumb. But you did it because you were trying to save the world. I should have...if I hadn’t been so damn caught up with other stuff. If I had just been there more - ”

“Dean, you cannot blame yourself.” Cas sounds genuinely horrified at the thought. “It was my decision and the consequences are mine to bear. All I can hope is that you can find a way to forgive me. And Sam - ”

“Sam’s good now.” Dean says quickly, half to reassure himself. “You screwed him over, not gonna lie. But at least you fixed it.”

Neither of them speaks for a while. Cas seems intent on watching the fire while Dean’s shell shatters a little more. Had he really had forgiven Cas just like that? He thought of what John Winchester would say about that. To say Cas had ‘screwed Sam over’ was a bit of an understatement. He had totally destroyed his mind. And here Dean was, casually forgiving him like it was no big thing.

It isn’t just words either. Dean really doesn’t feel any animosity towards the angel at all. Look out for Sammy. That had been drummed into him since he was four years old, when he carried his baby brother from their burning home. He still lives by it too. So it’s unnerving to forgive someone who hurt Sam. He’d been angry at first, sure. Upset, if he was being honest. He’d been hit with the double whammy of worrying about Sam and being betrayed by the only real friend he’d ever had. The only one that sticks around.

Well, that isn’t quite true. Cas always leaves but he always comes back too.

Now Dean just feels happy. And tired. He’s pretty tired too.

“You should sleep.” Cas says, softly. “I can watch over you.”

His knee jerk reaction is to tell the angel that’s weird. In any other situation it is weird. But here, he really does need someone looking out for him.

“’Angels are watching over you.’” He says, thinking of soft blonde hair and a warm smile. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “That’s what my mom used to tell me every night when she put me to bed. Guess that’s true tonight, huh?”

“I suspect she did not imagine that to come true in Purgatory while you are travelling with an angel and vampire, but the sentiment is lovely nonetheless.”

Dean can’t stop himself from grinning as he settles down, wedging his jacket under his head like Benny did.

“Do we have to travel with the vampire?” Cas grumbles beside him, sounding wonderfully like himself.

Dean raises his eyebrows against his makeshift pillow. “What, you don’t like Benny?”

“I don’t like the way he acts.” His eyes narrow, glaring at the sleeping figure the other side of the fire. “He looks at you like he wants to...consume you.”

Dean laughs and, for a moment, the clearing rings with it. “Dude trust me: Benny ain’t gonna eat me. He’s got plenty of food around.”

But Cas still looks unsure. “That’s not...” He sighs. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He gives Dean one of those rare, small smiles as he looks down at him. “Sleep.”

Dean does as he’s told for once, letting his aching limbs stretch out next to the warmth of the fire and under his best friend’s watchful gaze.

But after a few moments, he can’t resist another look, even as his body succumbs.

“You can sleep, Dean.” Cas says, almost chastising. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Ain’t that. Just...” His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his heart feels too heavy for his chest. “Just checkin’ you’re still there, is all.”

As he falls asleep, he hears his voice one more time.

“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

_

When Dean asks Cas where he can drop him, the ex-angel avoids his eyes and says something about being ‘between places’.

Yeah, Dean’s the worst friend in the world.

He drives them to a motel because that’s the least he can do.

He mentally berates himself on the drive there while Cas is quiet in the passenger seat. This really is the least he can do. He should be driving Cas home to the Bunker, buying him dinner on the way back. He should be apologising for throwing him out. But if he starts apologising that means he’s got to start explainingand that’s something he really can’t do. Not yet.

So he drives his awesome best friend to a shitty motel and books them a shitty twin room and orders a shitty pizza.

Once they’ve eaten in relative silence, Cas perches on the edge of one of the beds staring wide-eyed and blank faced at the television. Unfortunately, it’s not Dr. Sexy. Just some grim drama about murders and family betrayals. Like they don’t have enough of that to deal with already.

He looks small and Dean has the sudden urge to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude,” He says, busying his restless hands with clearing up the greasy napkins and tossing them into the bin. “Don’t sit that close to the TV. You’ll get square eyes.”

For what seems like the first time in an hour, Cas blinks. “Is that possible?”

Dean chuckles and settles back on his bed, kicking off his boots with a groan. “Nah, just somethin’ parents tell their kids. Dad used to say it to me all the time.” His smile slips as John Winchester’s dark eyes narrow in his mind. “Used to watch so much Scooby Doo it drove him mad. ‘Turn that TV off and do something useful! Ain’t got no use for a son with square eyes!’” He fidgets on the bed, fighting the urge to pull a blanket over himself.

“Oh.” Cas half turns away from the TV. “That seems unnecessarily harsh.”

Dean shrugs. “Just watched it when he was gone.” Had plenty of time.

“I assume you had plenty of time to watch it then.”

Huh.

Dean’s stunned into silence long enough for Cas to look over. Something on his face makes Cas look guilty.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t my place to comment on your father.”

“No.” Dean says but isn’t sure if he means it.

Cas stands, flicking off the TV and sitting against the pillows of his own bed. The quiet makes Dean realise that he’s alone with Cas in a motel room. He isn’t sure why it sets his teeth on edge – it shouldn’t be any different from sharing with Sam. So why does he feel a bit too hot under his shirt?

“Family is a complicated thing.” Cas continues, oblivious to Dean’s discomfort.

“Y-yeah.” The word sticks in his throat. “You miss ‘em? The other angels?”

In the soft lamplight, Cas’ profile looks striking as he thinks. “Yes and no. I miss the simplicity of being with them.”

“Simplicity? Can’t imagine Heaven ever being simple.”

“Oh, it’s not, not really. But I knew my place and I knew what I required to do. And I was known. Understood.”

“You think I don’t get you?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

Cas leans back further, turning slightly to rest his head on the pillow. His eyes look almost velvet in the soft light. Dean finds himself turning a little too, cheek brushing the cotton pillowcase.

“I think you understand me more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“Oh.” Dean feels struck dumb and something inside his chest clunks. “That...that’s what friends are for, I guess.”

“Yes.” Cas smiles, gummy and a little crooked where he’s resting his head. “It is.”

Dean rolls onto his back, heart hammering as he stares at the ceiling. Cas’ eyes are still on him – he knows the feel of that gaze like a dangerous coastline knows the relentless glare of a lighthouse.

The silence drags and his fingers itch to switch the TV back on.

“Coulda got you your own room.” He mutters, almost to himself. Least I could do. “Give you some privacy.”

“No.” Cas says firmly. “This is...this is good. Thank you.” He sounds so earnestly grateful Dean almost cringes in shame. “I spend quite a lot of time alone. It’s good to have company.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

“But if you’d rather - ”

“Nah, it’s all good.” He says and is surprised that he means it. He’s counted the stains on the ceiling three times and his heart is slowing to its normal pace again.

“Dean?” Cas sounds a little slower now. “Tell me something?”

“Uh, sure. What?”

“Anything.”

“Like a story?” Dean frowns and looks over to see Cas’ eyes are already half-closed.

“Hmm.”

“Uhhh...” He flounders. He hasn’t done this since he was a kid, making up stories for Sammy to fall asleep to in the back of the Impala. “Ok. Once, this guy woke up. Let’s call him...Dan. He woke up and realised he was underground, being suffocated. So after he panicked a bit, he dug his way out and almost goddamn blinded himself ‘cos it was a sunny day, right? He walks to this old gas station and keeps thinking ‘how am I alive?’ ‘cos he’s pretty sure he was dead.”

He knows he isn’t telling it well but it doesn’t seem to matter because Cas hums again, sounding pleased this time. Dean feels his own body melting like hot wax into the bed as he watches Cas’ eyes close.

“Then he looks in the mirror and sees he’s got this mark on his shoulder. A handprint. So he’s like, ‘who the hell left that there?’”

Cas chuckles, mouth thick with sleep. Dean pulls a blanket over himself and wraps an arm around one of the pillows.

“Turns out, his best friend left it there. But here’s the thing: he ain’t met him yet.”

Dean smiles as Cas’ breathing gets even and heavy. He watches for a moment and squeezes the pillow tight against his chest before turning out the light.

He dreams of Hell but when he wakes, all he can remember are dark wings beating hard against fire.

_

Dean is sick.

He throws up until his body is shaking, until his throat is raw and his eyes are bloodshot.

He slumps down next to the toilet and takes in breaths he doesn’t really want. The cool title presses against his burning back and he closes eyes. Which is a horrific mistake.

A beam of light streaming from his mouth, from his eyes, from the hole in his chest -

His body jerks and his foot knocks the empty whiskey bottle with a jarring clatter. Yeah, that’s rule one, buddy. Don’t close your fucking eyes.

He stands on shaking legs, picks up the empty bottle and goes back to his room where he’s stashed another. Thankfully, he doesn’t pass Sam on the way. He can’t deal with the pity, he can’t deal with the logic and he can’t deal with his stupid, childish hope. Mom’s gone. Ain’t no sense in pretending otherwise. Gone just like –

Nope.

He opens his door and chucks the empty bottle down again, letting it roll off to some dark corner of his room. He scoops up the next one and cracks open the top, taking a deep swig. It hits him hard; neat alcohol on his turbulent stomach makes him gag but he perseveres. He’s exhausted but he can’t close his eyes.

So he’s aiming for blackout.

It can’t be too far away – he can’t remember when he last ate. He’s aching all over, boiling hot and he’s...

Sobbing.

“You...you son of a bitch...” He sways a little when he looks up at the dingy ceiling but he’s trying to talk beyond that. “Whydya hav’ ta...fuck!” He rushes over to the sink and throws up the whiskey he just swallowed. It burns even more on the way up.

Once he’s stopped retching, he tries to take another swig but his body won’t let him do it. He collapses onto the floor again, legs too weak to stand. The bottle clangs in the sink, probably spilling all of its contents down the drain. He makes a weak sound of protest but doesn’t move.

His eyes feel tight and dry against the salty wetness on his face. He wonders how far above him Heaven is. If he’s even there. Something tells him he isn’t. If he is, surely he would have found a way to get back.

Dean whispers his name, a private prayer of desperation. There’s still some dumb part of him that thinks he might just appear again, slightly dishevelled and annoyed at Dean for not looking after himself.

But he doesn’t.

The silence stretches and Dean contemplates hitting his head on the floor. If he does it hard enough, there’s a good chance it’ll knock him out for a while, maybe a few days if he’s lucky.

He tries to lift his head but it’s too heavy. A wave of panic rushes over him as he starts to feel paralyzed – trapped in his own body and smothered with grief.

“Cas?” He chokes, a fresh wave of tears rushing down his face. “You...you’re meant to come back. You always come back. You gotta...you gotta come back, man. Please. Please, I can’t - ”

I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.

With all his might, he rolls onto his side before he’s suffocated completely. His head spins as he turns, his stomach churns and his eyes roll back. When he finally passes out, he doesn’t see anything at all.

_

“The Empty?” Dean whispers, feeling cold.

“Yes.” Cas whispers back. He’s only whispering because Dean is. Dean feels completely normal about that and not giddy at all.

“What was it like?” He doesn’t want to know but has to ask all the same.

“Empty.” Cas says, deadpan.

“Oh ok, smartass – thanks for clearing that up!” Dean huffs good-naturedly and has to grip the railing until his knuckles turn white. He’s got so much happiness in him his body doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels energy thrumming through him and he has the sudden urge to start sprinting and laughing.

They’ve stopped at a motel on the drive back from Colorado to the Bunker. Sam is already asleep, hair all splayed out on his pillow like Sleeping Beauty. But Dean...well, Dean was dead for a couple of minutes today so he figures he’ll enjoy being alive for a bit longer. He leans on the rail overlooking the parking lot and lets the cool air fill his lungs.

He’s got company.

“How is Jack?” Cas asks, obviously expecting a better answer than the quick reassurance they’d given him earlier.

“He’s doing ok. I was...” Dean trails off, his good mood momentarily dipping into guilt. “I was kind of a dick to him at first - ”

“What a surprise.” Cas sighs, world-weary and affectionately irritated. Dean wants to make him sound like that every day.

“- but we’ve gotten better.” He knocks Cas’ shoulder with his. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Good.” Cas smiles at him and he has to grip the railing again.

Dean watches him stare up at the moon, the pearly light making him look as otherworldly as he is. Dean is reminded there are wings somewhere behind Cas. Broken, yes, but still there. It’s weirdly exciting that Cas isn’t human. A strange thrill shoots through him when he really thinks about it. He feels like one of those people who inadvertently tame some dangerous beast and have their photos taken with the thing sat on their couch with them. It’s that precious feeling that you’ve been chosen, that something that would normally kill you with a snap of jaws or a click of its fingers saw you and thought you were special. So it decided that it wanted you to live. That it wanted to spend time with you. That he wanted –

“Dean? You’re staring.” Cas turns back to him with a raised eyebrow and a slightly smug expression. “You usually tell me off for that.”

“Right.” Dean doesn’t stop looking. “It’s just...you’re back.You came back again.”

Cas’s expressions softens and he edges a little closer. Suddenly – wildly – Dean thinks if Cas kissed him now he’d be fine with it.

He doesn’t.

“It was suffocating.” He says instead. “The black emptiness was...all encompassing. Like no matter what I did or where I went, I would never escape the feeling of total despair. Of being painfully alone. It was like - ”

“Choking.” Dean says and swallows hard against his healing throat.

“Yes.” Cas’ fingers twitch on the railing and Dean thinks that if he moved his left pinkie, he could feel his skin. Cas’ hand drops before he can really contemplate doing it. “But I did escape.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s full of energy again, happiness buzzing around his body like a swarm of bumblebees. “You got out, man.”

“I was afraid that feeling would follow me. That I would still feel that fear no matter how far I ran.”

“And?”

“I don’t.” Cas turns to the moon again, bathed in pure light, eyes shining as bright as his grace. “I don’t feel scared at all.”

Dean blinks back the sting in his eyes and smiles. “Me neither.”

_

Dean pushes open the door with a sweaty palm.

Cas stands next to him, staring into the room with his lips slightly parted. Dean’s gaze lingers on them for moment before he drags his eyes away.

Just because Cas...said what he said, doesn’t mean he wants that. Maybe he didn’t really mean it. Or maybe he did mean it but like...friends. Best friends love each other. Of course they do. Sure, it did seemlike a momentous romantic confession made by a guy madly in love with his best friend before he sacrificed himself to save said best friend but maybe...maybe it wasn’t really like that.

“You did this for me?” Cas sounds almost tearful and Dean can’t look at him like that. It reminds too much of –

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “Well, Sam helped too. Turns out he’s kinda nerdy about plants too. But I bought ‘em all and watered ‘em and...Jack got you that stuffed bee, by the way.”

Cas steps inside the room and Dean can finally look up from his feet. His eyes go straight to Cas’ broad back, casually dressed in one of Sam’s sweaters. The sleeves are too long but Cas says he likes it. He’s wearing a pair of joggers that Dean kept aside for him and a pair of socks with a hole in the toe.

“I love it.”

Dean’s heart literally skips a beat. Great, he loves it. Loves it in the way he loves –

“Wanted you to have something to come back to, you know? I know this was always kinda your room but there was nothing in here and I thought...after what you said before about the Empty...thought you’d want something good to come back to. Bright and full of life...or whatever, I dunno. Just thought you might like it.”

“It’s incredible.”

Dean thinks that’s over stating it. It’s not that good. Not nearly enough to repay his debts. Not anywhere near what Cas deserves. He deserves a real home, a huge garden, a fucking mansion with butlers and people who bow to him and call him ‘sir’. Instead Dean has given him his old room back. Sure, it’s got a few shelves up, a new rug, bedding that Jack picked out called ‘jungle dreams’, a load of plants and a tall lamp that gives everything a nice glow but it’s still the same room.

Dean has never felt more pathetic.

Castiel is an angel. Ok, barely an angel now (and whose fault it that?) but still a celestial being. He might get tired sometimes, he might get hungry and he might be able to get drunk but he’s still an angel.

He’s still better.

Better than this stupid room, better than this miserable Bunker. Better than Dean.

“Is this your blanket?” Cas asks suddenly, plucking the Scooby-Doo fleece blanket from the bed.

Oh, that. “Uh, yeah. Thought you might get cold now. Don’t want you to get numb toes or nothin’.”

“That’s...” Dean isn’t prepared for the open, raw joy on Cas’ face when he looks up. It almost sends him reeling backwards out of the door. “That’s very kind of you. You didn’t have to do all of this. It’s...”

Stupid. Stupid plants, stupid lamp, stupid goddamn blanket.

“It’s wonderful.”

“It’s stupid.” Dean blurts, feeling awkward and childish. “Shoulda done something more. Shoulda got you - ”

“You got me.” Cas says firmly. “You got me out, Dean. You and Sam and Jack...I will never be able to thank you enough. And then to come back to this room that you worked so hard on, that you filled with things you knew I would like...there is nothing better than that in the whole world. The whole of creation. To be known and to be wanted is the best thing there is.”

Fuck.

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he say to that? What can he say that would ever compare to what Cas said? What he said before –

“Right. Ok. Great. That’s...good. I’ll just...” He gestures over his shoulder to the door. Being in here with Cas is too intense, like staring at the sun or holding your hand over an open flame. “You probably want to rest.”

Cas hesitates before saying, “Yes. I suppose I should. Thank you again for this. I really love it.”

“Yeah, man.” Dean almost winces. “No worries. I’ll just...leave you to it.”

He steps back into the open doorway, unwilling to take his eyes away from Cas because he’s here, in the room Dean has imagined him in for weeks. It’s kind of annoying that Cas doesn’t have the same trouble. He turns his back, wandering towards the plants on the shelves and gently touching the leaves.

Dean lingers, like a moth perched on a lightshade.

“Are you - ” Just leave. “Are you gonna be ok by yourself? I mean, you said before that it was lonely being in the Empty. Thought maybe you’d want company?”

Cas seems surprised when he faces Dean again. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I would enjoy you staying for a while. But please don’t feel like you have to.”

The idea of Cas thinking he’s keeping Dean against his will is laughable.

“So, er - ” He sits on the bed, fingers clutching at his blanket. “What do you wanna do? I could get my laptop and we could watch a movie? Or we could watch one of those nature documentaries that kinda send me to sleep? You know the ones with the British guy with smooth voice - ”

“Actually, I should rest. I am quite tired.”

“Oh.” Dean tries to not look crushingly disappointed. “Right, yeah.”

“You could rest with me.” Cas says, just like that. Like it’s not a big deal at all. Like guy friends just clamber into bed with each other all the time and die for each other and confess their love for each other...

“Sure.” Dean’s mouth decides for him. “We could – we could do that.”

So they get into bed together.

Cas slides in as though this is his regular night time routine, looking totally at ease in his new ‘jungle dreams’ bedding and borrowed blanket. Dean’s hands shake as he lifts up the covers and slides in too. He waits for it to be weird, waits for discomfort and his father’s face swimming in front of eyes.

Instead, he just feels warm.

They’re led next to each other, unmoving and flat on their backs. Dean’s right leg is about to fall off the bed and Cas’ shoulder looks like it’s digging into the nightstand. Maybe this bed wasn’t made to fit two fully grown men too afraid to touch.

“Dean, are you comfortable? I am not.”

He laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, this isn’t great. Maybe if we...uh - ”

“What about if we do this?”

Cas’ hands are suddenly everywhere, manhandling him in a way that Dean has never experienced before but wouldn’t mind experiencing again. He ends up with his head resting on Cas’ chest, forehead pressed against his neck. His right leg has nowhere to go but to hook around Cas’ legs, entwining them together.

And Cas is holding him.

His arms are wrapped around him and not just because they haven’t got anywhere else to go. Because he wants them to go there. Because he wantsto hold Dean. Possibly all night.

Dean starts to panic.

Led like this, his ear is pressed against Cas’ chest – his heartbeat the loudest thing he can hear. What if someone breaks into the Bunker without him knowing? What if something is happening to Sam? To Jack? And he hasn’t even brought a gun with him. He squirms a little, debating on popping back to his room to get one when Cas says,

“Are you thinking about getting a weapon, Dean? I promise you, you won’t need it.”

Cas’ deep voice rumbles through his body, rocking him out of his spiralling worry so quickly Dean briefly wonders if he used some of his remaining slither of grace to do it.

“I would never let anything happen to you.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“An intruder? Judging by our current position, I assume I am the being most visible from the door.”

Dean’s fingers curl in Cas’ borrowed sweater. “You mean you’d be shot first?”

“Yes.” Dean feels his arms tighten around him for a moment. “And I believe my body would shield you from the vast majority of attacks.” He sighs and his breath tickles Dean’s hair. “Of course, if someone were to gain access to the Bunker, it’s likely they would be a supremely powerful being. That would reduce our chance of survival by quite a lot. However, if you really insist on being armed, I am confident that in the few seconds I could shield you, you could at least reach for a makeshift weapon. Whatever good it would do.”

“Right. But...” Dean doesn’t really feel comforted. “I don’t want you to...” He can’t quite say the word.

“Die?” Cas finishes for him as his fingers begin to move, leaving warm trails over Dean’s back. “No, I cannot say that I am enthused by the idea either. I have no desire to leave you again.”

“Not ever?” Dean asks and despises himself for the needy edge in his voice.

“Not ever.” His hands are moving now, big and slow in soothing motions against Dean’s back. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this. Mom, he thinks. When he was a kid. He knows he must look pathetic – six foot plus guy that’s been to hell and back being held like a baby. He should move, should pull away, wipe his eyes and tell Cas it’s time he went back to his own room.

He doesn’t want to.

“You love me.” He says instead, face burning and mouth dry.

He feels Cas smile against the crown of his head. “Yes.”

“You’re like...in love with me.”

One of Cas’ hands moves higher, fingertips trailing over the back of his neck leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Yes.”

Dean will never admit to the half moan, half whine he lets out. He buries his face in Cas’ chest and breathes him in. The smell of him fills Dean’s lungs and Cas’ arms start to feel like a weighted blanket, pressing gently on his body. It makes his eyes soft and his limbs heavy.

As he drifts off, he feels Cas’ lips brushing against his temple.

Dean wakes slowly.

He’s cocooned in softness and warmth and he has no desire to rush anything anymore – least of all to the leave the comfort of his (new) memory foam and his angel. He shifts a little, nuzzling his nose against stubble.

“I thought you were making breakfast.” Cas’ voice rolls over him slow and sweet like honey.

“Hmm.” A murmur, breathed into Cas’ neck, is all Dean can manage.

“Dean, you did promise them.” Cas says, with barely a hint of firmness. His voice is a little husky, like he’s still battling the urge to sleep.

“Oh, yeah? When?” Dean’s lips brush over warm skin.

“Last night.”

He pretends to forget. “Can’t take anything I said last night serious, Cas.”

“Oh?” He sounds a bit more awake now – that familiar dry, teasing tone creeping in.

Dean feels a pang of something in his chest so intense he almost squirms. “Alright, maybe some things were serious.”

“Hmm.” One of Cas’ hands rubs languid strokes up and down his back. “I should hope so.”

The memories come back easy and bright, playing like a dream behind Dean’s heavy eyelids. The stillness of their bedroom is punctuated by the sound of quiet voices in the living room. He grins at that, relishing waking up with the love of his life and his family just in the next room. Happy. Safe.

“Screw ‘em.” Dean says, more to himself than Cas and rubs his foot along his leg a few times, settling down again.

Cas doesn’t seem to have any objections. His hand strokes higher, fingers brushing through Dean’s hair and his blunt nails lightly graze his scalp.

Dean almost whines, his head lifting to follow the touch. He half opens his eyes again and sees a smile, unhurried and adoring. Cas leans down a little and kisses him, stubble rough and lips soft. Dean’s fingers curl against skin and his legs squeeze a muscled thigh beneath the blankets.

They stay that way for a while – bodies warm and entwined, gently greeting each other as the new day dawns. The rising sun has drenched the room in rich yellow light, soft and muffled through the curtains.

Cas’ hand is just caressing his hip and his tongue is getting hotter and more demanding in Dean’s very willing mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

“I know you’re both awake.” Sam’s voice rumbles through the door, amused and still a little sleep rough. “And don’t think we forgot about breakfast either. Eileen wants pancakes and she says I don’t make them right.”

“Not unhealthy enough!” Eileen voice calls out, a little further away.

Dean laughs against Cas’ lips.

“Alright, alright! Gimme five.”

As they slowly detangle, he catches a glimpse of silver as Cas stretches. Dean’s hand feels heavy and warm, like someone’s been holding it for hours. Dean yawns and dangles one leg out of bed, then another. He’s easing himself into the day, taking it a bit at a time.

He can do that now.

He laughs as Cas drags him in for one last kiss before he slides away, shoving his feet into his slippers and tugging on his trusty robe. His ties it around him and wanders, a little stiff-legged, to the window. He pulls back the curtains and from the bed Cas both grumbles and raises his face to meet the sunrise.

Dean watches the sun bathe him in bright light and remembers seeing him like this before. But then it was moonlight and he and Cas were at some shitty motel just out of Colorado. Not in their own house, not in theirbedroom. Dean has his first unbearably intense wave of wild happiness. It won’t be the last one today.

“I like having a window.”

“I liked having eyesight.” Cas mutters, burying himself into the covers.

Dean laughs and thwacks him on the thigh as he passes out the door. Cas’ll be up in his own time.

Four steps and Dean’s in the kitchen.

His brother is perched on one of the chairs at the little island separating the kitchen from the living room. Eileen is signing at him and he’s watching, completely enraptured, with a look of total adoration on his face. Dean would have laughed at him for that once. Now, he knows what it’s like when someone looks at him like that. Now he knows what it’s like to look at someone like that.

But he might still laugh a bit. That’s a big brother’s right.

“Mornin’!” He calls cheerily, rummaging in the fridge for eggs and milk. He emerges triumphant, plopping them onto the counter with a grin. “If the lady wants pancakes, the lady gets pancakes.”

“Best brother in law ever.” Eileen says and Sam almost falls off his seat. She just shrugs cheekily. “Unofficially.”

“For now.” Dean winks and Sam splutters.

“Right, well. Once you’ve finished marrying me off, can we get some breakfast?”

“Alright, alright!” Dean glares but he’s itching to get started. “Goddamn demanding baby. Eileen you could do so much better. Sadly, I’m already taken - ”

She laughs and so does Sam. He wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and she plays with his hair as they all talk. They talk about Jack getting hyperactive on sugared almonds, about Claire and Kaia wearing matching suits, about Jody and Donna getting drunk and singing karaoke until they were booed off the stage.

Then Cas stumbles out of their soft-lit room; hair wild and face crumpled. He bids them all good morning in a slightly rough tone before shuffling over for coffee. He cradles his mug in both hands as he leans against the corner counter, basking in the sun with his eyes closed.

Dean watches him, aching with joy.

Being in the dark with Cas is easy. But being with him in the light is better.

He twirls the whisk in his hand and it knocks against the ring on his left hand, so new it glows against his skin. Cas kisses his neck as he passes into the living room and Dean grins, looking up at his family.

“Hey, Eileen. What’s the sign for ‘husband’?”

[mummybear]

Borrowed Time - Chapter One - The New Guy

Words: 3173

Warnings: Swearing... think that’s it for this chapter :)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mark (OC), Tiffany (OC), Mentions of Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: So this is the first series I’ve written in a while or at least the first one I’ve posted! So I hope you guys like it! The next chapters will be out every Friday, until it’s finished :) The series will probably only be around 6 chapters long, but I really hope you enjoy it! Let me know If you want to be tagged in this series or in any of my other taglists :D

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr​ Thanks babe ❤😘

Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/mummybear

Series Masterlist

You let out a shaky breath as you take your seat at the back of the class, hoping that he will just leave you alone today. One of the new guys at school had developed a thing for you, ever since you’d ignored him on his first day, it was like he was determined to get you to talk to him. Lately though he’s been getting under your skin, and you’re so close to giving in. Sure the guy was hot, in fact, he may have been the hottest guy you’d ever seen, but he was also one of the biggest players in the school. The exception being in the last two weeks, where he had barely spoken to another girl who wasn’t you. Safe to say that had started the rumour mill. Then you hear the murmuring starting in the room, and that unmistakable feeling prickles across your skin.

You fight the urge to look up, but it’s like your eyes are drawn to him, like some kind of magnet is connecting the two of you. You finally give in and look up to find him already watching you, gorgeous green eyes locked on yours. Trying to look away is pointless, you know that by now. You do you best to calm your nerves enough so that you’re finally able to drop your eyes to your desk, and start pulling out the things you need for the upcoming lesson. 

That doesn’t stop your entire body tensing when the chair beside you scrapes along the floor loudly as it’s pulled out. It’s almost like you can feel the eyes of everyone in the hall turn on you. You can’t control the way that your body responds to the sound of his deep voice.

“Mind if I sit here, Y/N?” he asks quietly. You try and ignore the gasps that practically echo around the large room, as you force yourself to look up at him again.

Swallowing around the lump in your throat you nod.

“Um, yeah, sure. If you want to,” you answer shakily. You hate how your voice sounds, but if he’s noticed then he doesn’t let on. He gives you one of those panty dropping smiles as he takes the seat next to you, and you could swear your entire face flames bright red.

You inwardly roll your eyes when you see Tiffany Chase heading over to your table. You never understood how she had come to be the most popular girl on the campus, but clearly dating every guy in existence was a good trait to have these days. That was yet another reason you were glad about not being “popular”, whatever the hell that even meant. 

She leans on your desk, until her tits are practically in Dean’s face, but to his credit, and your surprise he doesn’t look. Instead he sits back in his chair, eyes immediately fixed on hers, not wandering her body, or the cleavage she's so blatantly offering him. She makes a point not to even spare you a glance, which is completely fine since you have no interest in what she’s giving away.

“I thought you were gonna show me your car, baby? Why don’t you ditch the charity case and come and have some fun with a real woman?” she purrs seductively, curling her fingers around Dean’s loose tie.

You wish you were anywhere but here, but you know there’s no other seats in class now, so your only other option is to pray for the ground to swallow you whole. You’re a little taken aback though when Dean’s large hand wraps around her tiny wrist and pulls her hand away, still remaining surprisingly gentle, especially with the look of thunder that’s overtaken his features.

“Sorry, Tilly. Change of plans, I told you last week, and a few times this week… if memory serves. Besides, there’s only room for one woman in my life.” As he says this you feel his hand resting on your knee, and you turn to look at him to tell him to move. But you stop yourself when you see the pleading look on his face.

Tiffany scoffs in disbelief, and has a look on her face like he just slapped her. 

“It’s Tiffany,” she corrects him sharply, before she turns her gaze on you. And you have to fight every instinct not to push your body back into your chair, instead you sit straighter, trying to keep your face neutral.

“Can you like… move or something. Dean and I really need to talk, I think you’re making him uncomfortable,” she huffs, as if your mere presence disgusts her. 

“Sorry, Tiff. I think you're the one  who’s making my boyfriend uncomfortable, actually. He’s just being too polite, could you please just leave us alone now? I believe he’s asked you enough.” 

It takes everything you have not to throw up the contents of your stomach, where the fuck did that come from?! You inwardly scold yourself, trying to hold your nerve. But to your surprise, Dean takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, and throws his other arm over your shoulder.

His lips press to your ear, and you can’t hold back the shiver.

“Thank you, I owe you,” he whispers, and you can already feel the blush creeping up your neck, the entire class is staring at the three of you like you’re aliens. But Dean’s currently more than enough of a distraction.

Her shrill laugh echoes around the room, followed by most of her bitch club behind her.

“Oh sweetie, no. Don’t be silly now. There is no way on this planet that you could be his girlfriend, you’d be extremely lucky to get a pity fuck with a normal guy, but Dean? No way. Now move, before I move you.” 

Your heart drops into your stomach, but you refuse to look away from her. However, before you can even utter a word, Dean’s voice drops to a low growl.

“I don’t give a shit about your name, or you. You don’t get to talk to her like that, and you lay a finger on her, I promise you’ll regret it. So, whatever your name is, unless you want me to tell Mark that you’re trying to fuck me... and just about every other guy you set your eyes on, I suggest you go back to your own seat. But first, I think you owe my girlfriend a fucking apology.” You watch the colour all but drain from her face.

You lick your lips nervously as you turn to look at him, seeing the fire burning in his eyes, but his eyes don’t move from Tiffany’s face. 

“Dean, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” you whisper sounding a little desperate even to your own ears. You rest your hand on his tensed bicep, trying to ignore the way you're clamping your thighs together, because this might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever been a part of. Even if you had only started this ruse to get him out of an awkward situation. Nobody had ever defended you like this before, especially not this publicly.

“Oh, it does matter, baby girl. Isn’t that right?” Dean asks, mock sweetness in his voice and his arm tightens around your shoulders.

“F-Fine. I’m sorry, Y/N,” she responds the best she can with the amount her voice is shaking, before hurrying back to her friends.

The teacher walks in the classroom, forcing everyone's attention to the front, and you try to ignore the sense of loss you feel when his arm leaves your shoulders. But that feeling is quickly replaced when he takes your hand and links your fingers with his, and rests them on the table top between you.

“Dean, we should talk,” you whisper, when the teacher turns back to the board.

“Later, sweetheart, wouldn’t want you getting in trouble,” he smirks, pressing a lingering kiss to your already flaming red cheek.

-

Unfortunately, you don’t get time to talk to Dean, and you don’t see him after your last lesson either. You try to ignore the snickering and staring as you start to walk through the parking lot to make your way home, though it affects you more than you’d care to admit. When you don’t see any sign of him, you continue to walk lost in thought, knowing that it will take you at least half an hour but it’s worth it, because you can’t stay here. 

You’ve been walking for about ten minutes when you hear a car roll to a stop behind you, the soft purr of the engine calming slightly as the window is wound down. You can’t help but smile as you turn around, and sure enough, there he is. Sitting in the driver's seat with a cocky smirk on his face. He leans over to the passenger side and pushes the door open, “you gonna get in, sweetheart? We can talk while I drive you home.” 

You walk closer and fold your arms over your chest, raising your eyebrows at him through the now open car door.

“And what makes you so sure I wanna get in your car?” you ask through your own smirk.

“Come on now, is that any way to speak to your boyfriend? Just get that sexy ass in the car so that we can talk.” There’s a teasing note to his voice, and your smile widens despite yourself.

“Fine. I’ll get in… but only because we do need to talk,” you tell him, trying not to laugh as you climb in the front seat and close the door behind you.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, princess,” he laughs, tossing his sunglasses in the backseat. You give him your address, and he quickly works out the new route, before starting to drive again. He clears his throat and shifts awkwardly where he sits, before glancing between you and the road.

“I owe you, for what you did today in class. You didn’t need to save my ass, but you did it anyway. I really appreciate that.”

You blush shyly as you look at him, “I was going to apologise honestly. I don’t know what came over me, I guess I just wanted to help out… somehow, I know people can be a lot for anyone, no matter who you are,” you laugh awkwardly, rubbing your clammy hands over your skirt.

Dean shakes his head, and a smile crosses his plump lips. 

“Sweetheart, don’t apologise, you did me a massive favour and I really can’t thank you enough,” he sighs regretfully, as he pulls into your driveway. 

You thank him for the ride, but before you move to climb out of the car he grabs hold of your wrist gently, and you turn back to him questioningly.

“Is everything okay, Dean?” you ask nervously, wondering what he might say. You’re not sure whether to lean in or turn away when he turns in his seat to face you.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you with a smile, “can I have your number?” You’re a little surprised at how shy he sounds, but you smile as you take his phone. 

“I just think it might be a little odd trying to play along with this, especially if we can’t even get ahold of each other.”

“You make a good point there, Winchester. But for the record, I would’ve given it to you anyway,” you smile fondly, phoning yourself from his phone, so that you have each other’s numbers, before handing it back.

“So… How long do you wanna play boyfriend and girlfriend?” you wonder aloud, noticing the way that he blushes and scratches at the back of his neck, before focusing back on you again.

Dean clears his throat and shifts closer to you.

“About that…” he trails off, and you feel a blanket of nervous confusion settle between the two of you.

“What about it?” you question nervously.

“Would you be okay if we stayed together, at least until I have to leave town, I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” before he can continue you cut him off, resting a hand on his thigh.

His eyes snap to yours, and you quickly pull your hand away and clear your throat.

“You don’t need to explain, Dean. Besides, it was my dumb ass that got us into this mess. It’s really the least I can do,” you smile genuinely, and an obvious moment passes between the two of you, a moment which is completely unexplainable. But there’s a knock on the window closest to you that pulls the two of you out of it.

You jump back harshly, your back practically slamming into Dean’s shoulder when someone leans against his car, and his head is already half way through the window.

“Damn, I almost didn’t believe it when Tiff told me you were seein’ some frigid bitch, Dean. You hit that yet?”

Dean growls, and you can feel him stiffen beside you as he wraps a protective arm around your waist, like he can shield you from Mark’s words. It’s actually really sweet of him.

“Maybe you should tell your girlfriend to mind her own fucking business, and you should do the same, Mark. Before I put you on your skinny little ass.” 

Mark lets out a deep boom of a laugh, and leans further into the car, his eyes sweeping over your body, clearly not taking Dean’s words seriously. It makes you feel nothing like Dean makes you feel when he looks at you, this guy makes your skin crawl and your stomach lurch.

“Shit, that’s gotta be one sweet pussy if she’s got you so whipped already.” 

Before Dean can speak, you sit up a little straighter, and glare at Mark. Feeling Dean stiffen behind you gives you the confidence you need to get these words out.

“Why don’t you tell your whore of a girlfriend to stop trying to fuck my man, it’s really kind of pathetic. He’s not interested,” you huff out, hardly able to stand looking at him, so you turn to face Dean who’s smirking right at you, and way closer than you’d first imagined.

Mark starts to grumble something behind the two of you, but neither of you are really listening, and you can’t stop staring at Dean as he cups your cheek in his big hand.

“What she said,” Dean agrees easily, his husky voice sending shivers up your spine. You let his thumb brush your bottom lip, “you’re even sexier than usual when you’re jealous,” he smirks confidently, leaning in a little closer.

You swallow thickly, your fingers just barely manage to wrap around his wrist.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, watching as his eyes flick down to your lips, and he licks his own. There are so many reasons this is a bad idea, but for the life of you you can’t currently think of any. 

Dean doesn’t even hesitate, before you can blink his lips are pressing against yours. The kiss is firm and his lips are so soft that you quickly lose yourself in the kiss, and you feel like your entire body is being drawn in by him. 

He pulls back all too soon. His eyes are lidded as he looks at you, and his hand moves from your jaw, to cup the back of your neck. His hands feel huge, as he tugs lightly at your hair and you gasp against his parted lips. 

“I s-should probably get going,” you whisper shakily, letting your fingers trace over the skin of his chest, where his shirt buttons are undone.

Neither of you even attempt to move, and before you think about it too much your lips are brushing against his again. He pulls you against him tightly and deepens the kiss, making you all but melt against him, and his hands remain firm against you as he effortlessly takes control of the kiss. You feel yourself edging closer, heart pounding in your ears and your head foggy, it takes everything you have to pull away from him, but you just about manage it. Looking up into his lidded eyes as you both pant hard, you swallow thickly and look over your shoulder, relieved to find that Mark has gone.

Dean cups your cheek when you turn back to him, his face the perfect picture of lust. 

“You should go in, sweetheart. Or I might change my mind about letting you go… but I’ll text you tonight, okay?” he rasps, pecking your lips.

You can feel yourself blushing as you nervously bite your lip. 

“What makes you think I want you to let me go?” you giggle as he leans in closer again, he’s so warm and smells incredible. 

“Oh trust me, if this had anything to do with what I want to do, you’d already be screaming my name,” Dean all but growls.

“Dean.” His name is a whisper on your lips, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears again.

Dean lets out a deep groan and shifts awkwardly in his seat.

“Shit, you don’t make it easy on a guy, sweetheart,” he smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You live here by yourself?” he asks suddenly, nodding over to your house, clearly trying to change the subject.

You shake yourself from your heady daze, trying your best to concentrate on what he’s saying.  Clearing your throat you give him a small nod, unable to stop the smile from crossing your lips.

“At the minute, yeah. It’s usually me and my best friend, but she’s away visiting family this week. It’s good though, much closer to campus than my parents’ house,” you explain happily, remembering the way that she had told you to take advantage of the free house, but then you notice a strange look crossing his face.

“Sounds nice. I’ve never really had anywhere like this, my family didn’t really stay anywhere too long, not since my mom died. My dad has to travel a lot for work, and I’m learning the ropes, so I can take over one day.”

Your heart aches for him, and you have no idea how it’s even possible to feel this close to someone you’ve only known for a little over a month.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. It doesn’t sound like you’ve had much time to just be you. If you ever need to get away, I have no intention of moving any time soon, you’re welcome to stay here,” you tell him softly, resting a gentle hand on his arm, until he finally looks at you again.

“Thanks, sweetheart. That means more than you know, and I promise I’ll text you later. We can talk more then, okay?” 

You lean in close and press your lips against his, the kiss lingers a little, before you finally pull away and whisper against his lips, “I’ll be holding you to that, Dean.”

Bold wont tag guys sorry!

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[omniscientoranges]

let me help (since you’re already half my heart)

okay, I take it that some people wanted a continuation of the fic idea I had in this reblog. I, personally, wanted to not do my homework. This worked in everyone’s favor here (except for my grades).

15x20 fix-it rewrite of Dean’s death scene - Cas saves the day edition

[AO3]

"I need you, I need you to tell me it's okay," Dean begs, holding Sam's gaze please tell me I can go you have to tell me or I won't be able to, "You tell me it's okay."

Sam swallows hard and opens his mouth to respond, "Dean, it's-"

"No, it's not."

Sam jumps at the interruption, Dean slowly slides his eyes past Sam's shoulder. He knows that voice. Fuck, does he know that voice. Guess Jack must've pulled him out after all.

"It's not okay, Dean," Cas says, stepping around Sam. "You're not going anywhere, not yet, not if I have any say in it."

"Cas," Dean whispers, looking at him like he's a welcome ghost, "You real?"

"Of course I'm real," Cas affirms, or, reaffirms, as it were. What about all this is real. We are.

Dean looks awestruck, not all there enough to try to hold back the stars in his eyes that always come from looking at Cas. Cas, for his part, does hold back - he's got a job to do.

"Sam, I'm going to pull your brother off this-" Cas tilts his head a bit, "large nail, I suppose? Can you support his weight while I heal him?”

Sam nods once, finally, something I can do to help, "Definitely."

"Okay," Cas reaches his hand around Dean's back, "Dean, are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

With that, in one swift motion, Cas wrenches Dean free from where he's staked up. Dean lets out an involuntary groan, and Sam's knees buckle slightly before stabilizing. 

Cas presses his hands to the mess of a wound on Dean's back. That's certainly pierced an artery or two, Cas thinks, this will be... more difficult than I thought.

He concentrates, screwing his eyes shut, pushing as much of himself into this as he can. Dean's breathing is erratic, and, horrifyingly, it's starting to get quieter.

"Cas," Sam says, his voice drowned in worry, "Cas, it's not working."

Cas clenches his teeth in something that could only be described as a snarl and rips his hands off Dean. Sam starts to protest before he sees Cas flick his wrist and slip his angel blade down his arm. Cas takes the blade in one hand and cuts a long slice down one palm, then gives the other the same treatment. Pure grace spills out through the cuts, casting shadows and suddenly making Castiel's hands the brightest light source in the room. He moves them back over Dean’s puncture wound. Work, please work, don't do this now, don't let this be when my grace finally fails for good.

Sam and Cas hold their breath, Dean takes out another labored one that could very well be his last, or second to last, or third to last, or-

"It's not enough," Cas shouts. He moves from his position behind Dean and nudges Sam over. He brings his bleeding, glowing hands to Dean's face. "Dean, Dean, look at me. Do you trust me?"

What a stupid question, Cas, "Course, 'course I do."

"Do you know what I'm asking you?"

Oh, oh. Shit. "I- yeah, yes, yes, I know."

Cas nods and leans in, lips slightly parted and hovering a few inches from Dean's. The glowing from his hands dims, and suddenly there's grace floating like smoke, like blood in water, from Cas' mouth - curling into Dean's. Cas' eyes light up a more brilliant blue than they already are, and Dean's half-closed eyes light up the same. It's not clear whether it's Dean or Cas who closes the distance, though realistically, it's probably both of them. Hell of a way to have a first kiss.

Dean feels the tendrils of Cas' grace wrap into him, coil around his soul, seep through his skin and stitch up the ripped muscles in his back. It's strange, Dean's been a vessel for an angel before, but it didn't feel quite like this. It didn't feel... it didn't feel so familiar. It didn't feel like coming home.

Of course it feels like that, though, Dean thinks, it's Cas. That's just what it feels like to be around Cas on a normal day. At that thought, Dean can feel Cas smile slightly against his lips. You feel like home to me too, Dean. You always do. 

Suddenly, or slowly, all at once, or piece by piece, Cas disentangles his essence from Dean's. They part their kiss, and open their eyes to look at each other. They've looked at each other a lot, seen each other a lot, but this is different. Markedly different. Like the universe looked at them and decided to synchronize their heartbeats from this moment forward.

"Are you okay?" Cas breathes out.

Dean lets out a soft laugh, and nods his head.

Cas lets his hands fall from Dean's face and makes way for the crushing bro-hug that Sam pulls Dean in for a second later. He stands off to the side as the two exchange a few words of relief, followed by one, two quick pats on Sam's cheek from Dean and an understanding nod from the former as he turns to walk to the exit. Sam shoots Cas a thankful smile as he walks out of the barn, Cas returns it easily.

After Sam's a good few steps out of earshot, Dean saunters up to Cas, smiling. "That's a- that's a pretty cool trick you got there, Cas."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it, I'm fairly certain it was my last one."

Dean furrows his brows, "What do you mean?"

Cas drops his eyes to the floor, "I- my grace has been failing for some time, Dean. Saving you just now, I think that was the last of it."

"So, you're tellin' me you're human? Again?"

"It would seem so," Cas says, still not quite meeting Dean's eye, "But-" and there, that's when he finally looks up, "But, I don't think it'll be so bad. Not as long as I have someone to pass the time with."

"Yeah," Dean laughs, moving forward and draping his arm around Cas' shoulders, "Funny you should say that, I think I might know just the guy for the job."

"Hm, I think so too."

- - -

Tagging ppl who specifically asked in the reblogs/comments so you guys get some closure, let me know if you want to be taken off!

@thenightwolf732 - @goblinwritergay - @queer-things-dont-happen-dean - @opinions-nobody-asked-for

[weasleyswhor3]

“I’m jealous, Angel” (George Weasley x reader)

Warnings: Smut

A/N: this is a wee halloween fic as tomorrow is halloween, wrote it rather quickly but hope you all still enjoy my second fic x

Word count: 6.3k

Halloween. The one day a year you could dress up as out there as you like, and no one seems to care, actually you get praised for it. Halloween at Hogwarts was always fun, a huge feast in an appropriately decorated Great Hall, then later on each house would host a not so secret common room party, usually one of the biggest ones throughout the year, everyone went, whether it was there own house or sneaking into a different common room. People planned for months, stocking up firewhisky and even those with muggle family’s sneaking in all different types of drinks. Y/N was sad this was her last Halloween at Hogwarts, having years of fond memories from this time of year.

Giggles and tumbles could be heard from every room in the tower, girls usually tipsy while getting ready, Gabby, my best friend, currently lying in on the floor in fits of tears as she couldn’t stop laughing at something I clearly missed. “Get up Gabs, your gonna ruin your outfit!” I said to her reaching my hand out to help her up, she looked amazing, she went for a cat this year, she has dark smoky makeup on, cute wee cat ears and a gorgeous little black dress. “Tonight’s going to be the night!” she exclaims, myself, and our other two roommates all glance at each other and roll our eyes, replying with a choir of “Sure”, “Whatever you say Gabs!” “About time!”, you see Gabby has had the biggest crush on Dean Thomas since starting back in September, only issue was she never really saw him, being two years apart caused quite a boundary between them too, but Gabby was certain tonight was gonna be the night to cross that boundary. I was excited for her, she hadn’t shown interest in anyone since Oliver Wood left, so it was about time she got back out there.

I stared at myself in my full length mirror, this year I had gone for an Angel, I wore a small white tennis skirt with a simple white cami top that had lace detail over the neckline, I paired it with knee high white stockings and a small pair of silver heels to match my silver wings placed on my back, my hair was curled into loose waves and I opted for subtle makeup with decorative white glitter scattered on my cheekbones. I look quite good. “George is gonna love you tonight, you look hot!” Gabby said as she brought me into into a drunken embrace, I blushed at her words, hoping indeed my boyfriend would enjoy my outfit. I needed more alcohol to catch up with her it seemed, so I grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey from her bed and drank as much as I could in one go, while my friends cheered me on. Soon we could hear the music start down in the Common Room so we planned our strategical late entrance, deciding to wait another half an hour until heading down.

30 minutes passed and we were definitely a lot drunker than before, but regardless we got our heels on and we prepared to make our entrance, feeling myself get slightly insecure looking around my friends, they were the IT girls of our year, every boy dreamed of getting one of them for the night, people would argue I was one too, but I had been happily with George for 3 years now, so I never really saw myself as one, but I didn’t want it any other way, I was so completely in love with George. My insecurities washed away immediately as I walked into the common room, with not even one minute passing before being approached by the 6 foot redhead I was so lucky to call mine, smirk evident on his face he maintains eye contact with me, only once breaking it to glance down at my body, when he was close enough he leaned into my ear and whispered “Holy shit Y/N, what are you wearing?”, without giving me time to respond he grips my cheek and brings my head round to place a soft kiss on my lips, deepening it as I kissed him back, soon it became slightly aggressive in the sexiest way possible as his hands ran over my lower back while my arms were wrapped around his neck. I pulled away, giggling as I muttered his name “George, I only got here, save that for later” I winked up at him, he smiled back down at me, “Can’t help it princess, you look so hot” Guess Gabby was right. George scans your body again, hands roaming down your waist and going to play with the hem of your short skirt, you slap his hand away, leaning up on your tip toes to level beside his ear, whispering “later.” As you walk away backwards you run your small hand down his arm, shooting him another wink and running off to find Gabby.

I find her among a group gathered in the far corner of the common room, noticing Dean was also in this particular group, I let out a soft laugh as I work my way through the group towards her, I poked her side and she wipped her head round, long dark hair almost hitting me in the face, she let out a excited yell as she pulled me into another drunken embrace, but only this time, way drunker than before, I look around the circle laughing “What the hell did you give her to drink?”, much to my surprise, Dean returns my laugh and states “I’m not quite sure actually, someone gave some to me and It tasted good so I got her some” Dean got her a drink. I laughed again, returning my gaze to her as she had a smirk on her face knowing exactly what I was thinking. Conversation began flowing as the night carried on, me and Gabby continually taking over the dance floor, probably making absolute fools of ourselves but we were having fun, that’s all that mattered. Little did I know, a certain someone watching me was not having as much fun, George was getting impatient, I had hardly spend anytime with him all night, too caught up in my best friends new conquest.

While myself and Gabby were over at the table getting ourselves a drink that we definitely didn’t need, Dean approached her, I watched out the corner of my eye as his hand gently rested on her hip as he whispered something in her ear, I couldn’t hear it but when he grabber her hand and they began to walk away, not before Gabby turned her head back in my direction giving me a wink. I got the idea. Excitedly I scan the room, looking for someone to express my happiness too, my eyes landed on my boyfriend, who was already staring at me, with a bored expression on his face while sat with his friends. I ran over to him , throwing myself on his lap, “Did you JUST see what happened!” I whisper-shouted, he responded with a raise of his eyebrows and a small nod, this reaction making me frown, “What’s wrong gorgeous?” I asked while cupping his face before running my hands through his hair, I noticed his mood lighten slightly at this small sign of affection but still remaining silent for a few moments before making eye contact with me, “I haven’t seen you all night Y/N, you ran off and have left me all night to watch you from across the room, running around in that short wee skirt, downing drink after drink as every boy who caught sight of you drooled over your gorgeous legs and perky bum peeking out every time you jumped about with gabby, it’s not fair Y/N, it’s torturing me!” as soon as he finishes he lifts you off his lap and walks towards the boys dorms, leaving you standing their speechless and slightly confused, you never meant to upset him, or make him jealous, you were just having a good time with your best friend.

Your shook from your thoughts as you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, looking up to see Fred giving you a sympathetic smile, nodding towards the stairs your boyfriend just disappeared up, “You should follow him Y/N, been in a fowl mood all night, couldn’t handle seeing you being watched by so many boys, go remind him that your all his,” he says, dropping you a wink and pushing you slightly towards the stairs, you return a small smile and a grateful nod as you run up after your boyfriend. Standing now outside his dorm room door, you knock once before walking in anyway, and there he is, shirt now discarded on the floor while he sits at the edge of his bed with his hands in his head. He knew it was you. You walk over to him, standing in front of him as you reach your hands to play with his hair, he lifts his head to look at your face, sorry written all over it. You take a seat beside George, his eyes following you, it’s your turn to look down at the floor, “I’m sorry Georgie, I should of noticed how little I was around you tonight, I was too caught up in Gabbys night I forgot about our night, it was silly of me.” You were now looking into his brown eyes, giving him a small smile in hope he would accept your apology, “I’m being selfish Y/N, i’m always selfish, I want you all to myself, I hate seeing other boys look at you the way I do, I don’t blame them but I doesn’t stop me wanting to smash their faces in,” You can’t help but let a giggle slip from your lips, he also lets a small smile shine through before continuing, “You are so unbelievable Y/N, I know what they all think of you, how much they would want to see your perfect body and beautiful face below them, your soft lips all over them, ugh- i feel sick thinking about it...I’m jealous, Angel”

Your heart broke hearing George get so worked up over other boys, your mind blown at the fact he could ever believe you wanted anyone that wasn’t him. You grab his face, bringing him in for a kiss that was full of so much passion and promise, his hand finding itself a spot on your stomach which his finger tips ghosting your waist, you pull away, keeping your hands on his face, “George I don’t want anyone else, i’m all yours baby, forever, your it for me. I don’t care how many boys look at me or what they think about me, I only care about you. Don’t be jealous, please, they all know they could never be you, and you should know, even when i’m not showing you, you have all of me, all of it.” Slowly you swing yourself over, now straddling his lap, caressing his face with your thumbs on each cheek, “I love you Y/N” George says before taking control, bringing you back in for a kiss, which soon turned into a make-out, his hands proudly grabbing your bum as your wrap your arms around his neck, playing and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck. You knew this was George’s weakness so when he let out a deep groan into the kiss you knew this was going where you wanted it to.

Suddenly you were lifted and slammed into the mattress you were sitting on moments ago, his hands not once leaving their position on your bum, or breaking the kiss, “George,” you moan into the kiss as you can feel is hardening member against your core, sex with George always excited you, no matter how long you had been together. Breaking apart for air, he inches towards your ear, “You look so hot, my dirty wee girl dressed up all innocent and angelic, you drive me crazy Y/N, fucking crazy” -” Show me how crazy” you reply sharply, knowing how much challenging him turns him on. His eyes darken while you look up at him with big soft eyes, trying to look as innocent as possible. Something in him snaps, “Stand up. Strip. Keep the skirt and stockings on.” You jump up, starting with your heels, while he sat on the edge of the bed watching you, next the wings, the top, the white bralet and lastly your panties, throwing them at him as you giggle, he catches them with one hand, placing them down beside his legs, he sucks in a breath before ushering you to stand between his legs, as soon as you are in touching distance his hands are at the back of your thighs, rubbing the soft skin, he leans forward taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, causing you to let out a whine, his hand running up your thigh under your skirt, delivering a loud smack to your cheek, jolting forward, George mutters “Louder princess, let all them boys know who you belong to,” and with that he repeats his assault on your nipple but now both hands squeezing your behind, you completely fall into a state of bliss and release a loud high pitched moan, “That’s more like it” George smirks, proud of how easily he gets you worked up, grabbing you waist, he pulls you down to the bed before moving back on top of your half naked body.

George couldn’t lie, you did look quite angelic laying there waiting for his next move, looking up at him as if he put the stars in the sky, he was so in love with you.

His thoughts interrupted as he catches one of your hands run over your chest, and the other move down towards your clit, you begin to play with your nipple while rubbing circles over you now dripping pussy, George is in awe, those angelic thoughts being erased as he watches his girlfriend throw her head back into his mattress as she pleasures herself, he could feel himself growing hot and definitely harder, hearing her soft moans, he knew if he didn’t stop her now he wouldn't at all. Grabbing your wrist, halting your actions, opening your eyes to give him that same soft innocent look, he brings his hand up around her neck, chocking her gently, “Stop acting so fucking innocent, stop acting like you aren’t my wee slut, can’t even wait for me to touch you, need to do it yourself, dirty, dirty girl,” his words cause you to moan out, “George, I want your cock, please, I need you!”, rutting your hips up to brush against his. As if he needed anymore than that, he quickly undoes his trousers, pulling them down his legs, throwing them into the pile of clothes you had created, he kneels on the floor beside his bed, grabbing you from being your stocking covered knees, pulling you towards him so your core was right in front of his face, he glances up at you, shooting you a wink before his head disappeared under your skirt. Feeling his tongue flick up and down your burning heat turned you into a moaning mess, his name slipping from your dirty mouth egged George on, flattening his tongue against your clit as he licks a slip slowly up, placing a kiss on the soft shaven skin before surprising you by slipping his tongue into your hole, repeating this action until your hands run through his hair, tugging at it, he moans into your core, causing you to grab a fistful of his ginger locks. He lifts his head from under your skirt, catching your view as he brings his thumb up to wipe is lower lip and chin, not once looking away, he smirks and brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks all the access off, your breath hitches in your throat and he lets out a chuckle as he stands up and begins to take off his boxers, your excitement growing in your stomach.

His dick, standing thick against his stomach, tip red with neglect, but George didn’t mind, as long as his girl was satisfied, “You want it angel, you want my cock?” he says as he leans back onto the bed, you whine “Yes George, want your big cock, please.” He leans down placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on you lips, admiring your blushed cheeks as he grabs the hem on your skirt, moving it up around your waist. Breaking the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, he slowly inch by inch presses his dick into your entrance, both of you unable to control your moans, the room becomes filled with panting, whines, moans and mutters of each others names as his pace increases, your hands digging into his shoulders and his hand firmly on your waist, keeping your tiny body in his control. “So fucking wet Y/N, so perfect” George grunts before catching your lips with his, causing a very messy make-out between the two of you, “I’m gonna cum Georgie!” you say catching your breath again, “Me too princess, come with me.” You let go and released around his thick cock, the warm wetness sending George over the edge as he fills you with his cum, collapsing on top of you, before removing his dick he kisses you, “I love you so much Y/N”, you return the kiss, smiling up at him, “I love you too gorgeous.” Removing himself from you he stands up, you following him by siting up on the edge of the bed, scared your legs will fail you. George reaches to the back of your skirt, undoing the zip, you catch the memo and lie back down, raising your hips so he can remove the skirt from your body, throwing it down before going back for your stockings, them also joining the pile of clothes. Now both completely naked, he picks you up, taking you to the attached bathroom and setting you down on the counter, both feeling no need to talk, he begins to remove your makeup, kissing you when hes finished, finding a towel he soaks it with harm water, cleaning up the mess now dripping down your thighs, kissing the soft skin like before when hes done. Picking you back up he carries you to bed, setting you down, leaving space for himself to crawl in after you.

He pulls your naked body into his and kisses your forehead, “I’m yours forever Y/N too, that’s if you want to keep me,”  George says, without looking at him you knew he was smiling, lifting your head to look at him, “Forever Georgie,” 

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Prime Time,Bitch!

Tagged: @spnquotebingo the keep reading function is messing up for me

Sam said he was locked up tight in the dungeon. He was never locked in with her. She was locked in with him. The hunter becomes the hunted with no where to run.

Warning: Mature Language,Blood,Gore,Character Death?

-"Thoughts"- (they are red for those who can see)"Quotes" 'Reading'

"I'll be right back. This demon side is fighting to stay in control. I just need a few more pints of blood." Sam said as he slung a bag on his shoulder. "Yeah I got it get some food to!" Y/n said with a smile as she walked him to the impala. The roar of the engine rumbled as she waved him off going back inside what she didn't know was Dean knew that Sam just left and a chilling smile grew on his face.

Y/n popped popcorn as she sat in her room a horror movies playing as she got comfortable. A scream came from the movie drowning out the sound of the dungeon door opening up. The youngest Winchester laughed as a girl tripped over nothing her and Dean always make fun of them they had no real reason to hit the ground so they should get right up. This made her slightly sad. Was Sam going to fix Dean or was it already to late for him? Shaking off the thought the killer was about to crush the women's skull when the power cut out,but the red emergency lights didn't cut on yet which was weird. "God damnit." She grumbled getting up and grabbed a flashlight and went to the breaker to fix it walking right past the open door. Flipping the switch the normal lights don't turn on only the red ones and she turned around to get her phone to call Sam when she dropped her flashlight. Y/n gazed at the empty chair in the center of a devils trap she took off running to her room,but paused he knew she would run there for her phone and Dean or the demon he's become won't let her get help. She changed course to Sam's panic room to hide.

"Oh N/n where are you? I miss my little sister don't you miss me?" A metal sound of something dragging on the floor made her tense. Thinking of all possible things it could be of how she's going to die.–'It could be a bat,but we don't have any metal ones in the bunker. Maybe a sledgehammer,but that would have ment he when into the garage and the power going out would have locked everything.''– Her eyes widen as she released what it was he must have been carrying around she was sharpening it with the rest of the blades earlier that day."Have you figured it out yet? I know how you think when a horror movie is playing you see ever scenario before the movie can catch up. No wonder Sammy says you cheat at Clue!" Dean laughed as he seemed to wander to each room. The sound of wood splitting as he yelled "Here's Johnny!!!" It seemed so much worse that Dean was the evil this time a normal demon would know her so personally this seemed almost cruel him quoting films they watched together. "What to clichés? I admit the axe is old school."

The panic room the size of a cubbie it was so small,but just big enough I could calm down and think properly. Looking up another version of myself sat in front of me...my conscience. I could speak,but she could she's in my head after all. –"You can't run. There's nowhere to go doors locked down the moment the lights went."– I saw a illusion of myself running through the halls just to hit a corner and get a axe to the chest before it faded away. –"Can't go for your phone or your laptop he probably broke it the moment he noticed you weren't in your room."– I saw myself creep into my room just to see a shattered phone and my laptop with a cracked screen buffering to open instant messenger to text Sam. The laptop was slammed shut on my fingers causing some to break and get sliced by the glass looking up the sick grin of the Demon caught my eye before the axe ended that path. –"The burner. The one in your dresser Dean doesn't know about it so neither would the demon.Get it and get back here as quickly as possible. "– It was settled call for help. Listening for any foot steps I creep out of the hiding space a faint whistle going off down one of the many halls way from my room. Sneaking down the hallway staying low I get to my room where the door is torn to shreds as I open my drawer and fish out the phone. Going back down the hallway I get back to Sam's room and immediately call him.

"This call has been forwarded to a automatic voice message at the tone ples–" Hanging up I call again and again with no answer. At this point help was no longer a option. The whistling seemed to get closer and I rushed to the panic room until I paused. –"A enclosed space in a closet. There's not much space to move around if he finds you there your done for."– I back away slightly. –"Behind the door offers a easy place to hide and get out,but if he does the same to Sammy's door he did to yours it's not much of a hiding spot then."– A axe goes through the door creating a massive hole and Dean peaks inside and sees the white of you tank top in your (f/n) flannel. The door was whole again as I looked around the sound of metal getting louder running out of time. –"Under the bed allows you to see him without him seeing you,but like the panic cubbie not a lot of wiggle room if he hears you your done."– It was too late running to the metal door of the panic room she slams it shut not to loud to sound like she's trying to hide it,but just loud enough for the demon to register it. Sealing it shut I slip under the bed and wait for the time to get out and hopefully find a weapon.

Boots walked into the room turning to the closed closet. "Oh N/n!~ There's only so many places to hide in such a small room. Did you really think I wouldn't hear that heavy ass door close?" He chuckled darkly as he opened the closet and went to the small door. Dean tried turning the wheel to unsealed it,but it seemed to dawn on him that it could only be opened from the inside. With a huff anger he began pulling the brick of the wall started to bend outwards and crack. I was glad I wasn't in there. Going to slip out from under the bed while he's distracted the burner phone rang its annoying ringtone. Not even bothering to stop it I rush to get out faster,but a firm grip caught my ankle and dragged me out. Turning onto my back Dean stood their his apple green eyes staring at me. "Found you." He lifted up the axe having let go of my ankle lifting up my feet I put as much strength as possible into kicking his stomach. The demon was knocked back into the closest hitting the ground. Unfortunately axe still in hand. Stanfing up I ran leaving the phone behind. -"Sam took Baby so the trunk armory is out of the question. The garage has so pretty handy tools too bad that it was sealed along with the front and only entrance. Kitchen has knifes none that can hurt him,but just enough to slow him down. Library demon blade was in there last you checked,but Sam could have grabbed and put it on a high shelf."– Too many options and the kitchen was closer so that was the first stop grabbing a knife I held it tightly as a stalked slowly to the Library to see if there were any supernatural weapons.

The library was dark and the red lighting barely lit up the large room. "Would you like to play a game?" Dean mocked in a deep voice as he went around the bunker his voice echoing no real pinpointing where he is. I can't call Sam and prying to Cas hasn't worked meaning Dean made angel banishing symbols in most of the rooms. Y/n was getting desprit the bunkers massive size most of it was unexplored by them so being lost in a underground maze b wasn't the best option. "Are you scared yet Y/n? Well be afraid. Be very afraid. I'm what goes bump in the night sweetheart! Never thought the Winchester’s downfall will be by the hands of the oldest. What a twist!!! Right?" Dean yelled turning to the table I saw the supplies I cleaned with,but the weapons were gone and a note was left on in their place. 'Hey Y/n I put the weapons back into the trunk for tomorrow's hunt so you wouldn't have to...you're welcome and your blade was just sitting on the table so I put it up. ~Love Sam' I wanted to cry oh chuck nothing can save me in this buncker Bobby was sending us gallons of holy water next week because we were low...all rooms were demon proof,but he seemed to be a exception now,so no calling Crowley either.

Turning around the library doors open and I duck behind one of the many shelves. "Welcome to my nightmare!~" He said with a chuckle that bounced from every wall. Dean knocked down books and destroyed anything in his way while he looked around. Crawling on the ground I go to leave when the sound of something whooshing in the arm made me drop like a bag of rocks. The axe meet the shelf and I gazed at the red illuminated face of my brother eyes now black and demented. Laughter bubbled out of his chest as he mumbled. "Carful dear wouldn't want to lose you head." Yanking the axe free many books tumbled down. Taking the kitchen knife in hand I slash his calf and go for his thigh when the knife is flung out of my hands. "You little bitch!!!" He hissed now holding the knife and showing it into my stomach. A silent cry came from my lips bot to give him the satisfaction of my screams just yet. I look up at him and just past his head where I couldn't normally reach was the handle of my blade peeking over the shelf.

I begin to giggle and it turns into fits of laughter. Black eyes flicker back to confused green ones. "What's so funny?" I catch my breath as I lean up slightly. "You picked the wrong place to corner me. Wanna play?" Grabbing his knee and pulling it buckled under him causing Dean to hit the shelf letting the blade fall freely. Reaching out I catch it "Let’s play." Stabbing upward into his stomach the same place the knife was lodged in my own stomach. He howled in pain as I removed the blade and ran keeping pressure on the knife wound as I turned corners just to get away. -'He played with your head play with his. The intercomes...a good distraction can lead him away and let you get the jump.'- I hurry to the intercoms not before making a pit stop.

Demon!Dean POV

I growl at the wound on my body the little shit stabbed me. This makes killing her so much easier then she can be just like me. Grabbing the axe I stomp through the bunker. "What a excellent day for an exorcism." Her voice sounded through the speakers now I know were she is. "Would you like that?" I said aloud with a grin. "Intensely." Y/n said trying to make her voice horse before the clipping sound of the intercom stopping rang out before being replaced with a creepy melody that always scared her. "There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." My ear drums almost burst at the loud deep voiced scream ears still ringing I didn't register the blade being driving into my sholder flinging her back I turn around as she's running down the narrow hallway taking the axe with both hands throw it straight and the axe hit her almost dead center in the spine. The audio cut off after the song and I stood over her. Y/n had her face turned coughing up blood I definitely hit her lung. "Thanks for catching it for me." I smile as I heavily put my foot on the small of her back pulling the axe out. She screamed out it was mildly gurgle from the blood. Turning her over my little sisters eyes shined with unshed tears. "Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." I said with a small whipping the few that slipped by she whimpered Sam's name and I grew frustrated. Lifting the axe again. "Looks like you couldn't make the cut,N/n. Just another extra that stuck around for too long." Dropping the axe down it went into her chest the creaking of her collar bone and sternum were whispers compared to the blood curdling cry. They soon died out as her skin paled and her breathing stopped she'llmake a strong demon. "See you soon." Taking the axe out I begin to drag her body.

The lights in the bunker cut back on meaning Sammy was home. Having placed her perfectly in the chair I was tied to I wait until he finds her standing next to the door. "Y/n?! Y/n!?" He yelled most likely having gone to her room rushing the the dungeon his heavy foot steps abruptly stopped. "Oh God! Y/n come on!" The moose of a man rushed in the room cradling her face in his hand. "You were too late, Sammy. She called your name before she went,but I guess five missed calls wasn't enough for you to rush home. N/n fought for so long waiting it out just for you to never show." I said closing the door as he turned to me standing infront of her corpse. "You didn't make things easy on her. I mean you took all the weapons and put the only thing to defend herself on the top shelf...like keeping the cookie jar way from a child. In some way you killed her before I could." Lifting the demon blade that had his own blood on it. I stalked towards him cornering him in the room. "Sure you won't give me a good chase,but woah she wore me out." Holding the blade to his throat when a gun shot fired and a sting hit my arm causing me to drop the knife.

Y/n stood colt in her left hand the axe keeping her up in her left. "Demons always so sure that what's dead is dead and can't be undead. Ever heard of a pulse jackass. " so distracted that she was alive Sam was able to restrain and she held a handful of bags of blood. "Let's get this over with." She bagan to inject me and I felt myself become mire human and I started thrashing hard. With the last vile in hand she looked into my eyes. "You should be dead." I hissed as she pushed the needle in. "Sorry. I'm into survival."

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n This is the last one in round one of the Spnquotebingo and I ended with a dozen quotes.

Title: "Prime Time,Bitch!" Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

"Here's Johnny!" -The shinning

"Would you like to play a game?" - Saw

"...be afraid. Be very afraid"- The fly

"Welcome to my nightmare."- Nightmare on Elm Street

"..lose your head." Alice in Wonderland

"Wanna play?"- Child's Play

"What a excellent day for an exorcism...Would you like that?....Intensely." - The Exorcist

"There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." - The Conjuring 2

"Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." - Hellraiser

"See you soon." - Coraline

"She called your name before she went,but I guess..." -Hadestown

"...what's dead is dead and can not me undead." -Jacksepticeye (DBD playthrough)

"I'm into survival." ‐Nightmare on Elm Street

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Turn

[Gif credit to @rainbow-motors​]

Square: A/B/O ( @supernatural-jackles​ tell me a story bingo)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Human!reader (soon Omega!Reader)

Summary: A hunt goes sideways for the reader and she’s bitten by a rare alpha, not all alphas have this ability and she is turned into a wolf. She tries adjusting to being a wolf and a hunter with Dean Winchester, an alpha of his own pack.

Warnings: ABO Dynamics, angst, suspense, language, SMUT (18+, Knotting, mating, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up boys)), fluff and crack.

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 3,962

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: Trying something new with this one. I realize I left a major hole, but maybe it could make for another part. We’ll see.

~

She ran down the halls, frantically.

Shit, shit, shit. She thought.

When she thought she was possibly hunting one rogue werewolf, she ran into the whole pack of them in the fancy mansion.

She frantically turned down the end of the hall finding the winding staircase. Running fast down the stairs her feet practically slid and glided down them.

Once on the ground floor she could hear the distant growls above her on the upper floor. Seeing the double door leading outside she ran for it.

When a large hand emerged from no where when she passed the foyer. Lifting her up high, she struggled to gain a breath as she grabbed onto the strong arm that held her up. Punching, hitting it as hard as she could finding some sort of weak spot to get him to let go of her.

“You damn hunters think you run the show.” He growled.

She choked as she tried to speak, only making him chuckle.

“Not so much of a hunter when cornered.”

She pulled her hand down, forcing a silver hidden blade down to her hand. In one slicing motion she cut his arm. Not severing it from his body but giving a deep and deadly gash at the bend of his arm.

“ARGH!” he shouted in pain as he dropped her.

Gasping for air quickly, she took off as fast as she could.

She burst from the doors, just a few more feet and she’ll be in her car and home free.

All of that went out the window when he pounced on her back, forcing her to the ground. She hit the ground hard with a grunt, nearly face planting the dirt.

And she felt sharp needles of teeth as he bit into her shoulder.

She screamed at the sudden pain.

Before he could rip out the muscle, something yanked him up off of the ground.

She felt a sudden burning pain take her body over, her muscles felt like they were melting, it felt as if she was being burned alive.

Blind by the pains she didn’t hear that the strange person that ripped the alpha wolf off of her had killed him.

Crippled by the pain she didn’t feel or notice the strange person lifted her up in his arms and rushed her to his car and took her some place safe.

 She had no idea how long she was out, but she was still to weak to even stay awake for what was going on.

“Sam, she’s been out for far too long.”

“Dean, she was bit by one of the alpha pure breeds. The process for turning is different than other breeds of wolf. You’re typical werewolf the transformation is barely noticeable until the full moon. This, is different. Her dynamic is changing before our eyes. She’ll either make it or she’ll die.”

There was a low growl.

“Hey, don’t growl at me, that’s the truth and that’s what she’s faced with.”

“Her eyes are opening, look Sammy!”

She saw two tall blond men standing before her at her bedside. But she was too tired and weak to fully awaken.

“She’s looking weak Dean but she’s alive.”

“Did she present yet?”

“Not yet, and that’s where I’m afraid she might die seeing as how she’s really weak now.”

“Fuck!”

“You can’t save them all Dean.”

“I nearly wiped out the pack, they target all kinds of humans to build their army. I didn’t want her to become one of them.”

“We’re like them too Dean, just…more human.”

“I know what you mean…”

“Where…” she managed to stutter out.

“You’re safe in our bunker in Lebanon Kansas. You should rest, your transformation isn’t over yet.”

Letting herself slip back to a deep sleep she nods at him.

“Now, we wait and pray.” Sam says.

Dean looking down at her worried and concerned.

He didn’t notice Sam giving a side glance. Why was he so concerned for a stranger. For a human he’d never met before.

 The presentation process was a quick one, turns out she survived it all only coming out weak and tired.

Waking up where she woke before she let out a tired groan before sitting up. Her arms trembling at the effort it took to do so.

The first thing that hit her were the smells. There were so many smells it gave her a headache. Sounds, some louder than some. She heard voices in the halls. She recognized the voices.

She got up quickly only to fall on the floor with a thud. “Oghf.”

Pushing her upper body off of the ground so she could sit up more she felt forming bruises on her knees and hip for how she hit the ground.

“Ow.” She whined rubbing her knees.

“Sam, did you hear that?” she heard Dean ask.

“Sounds like she’s up.”

She tried to hurry up to her feet.

Once up on her feet her knees wobbled. She held onto the bed before she fell again.

“You’re up.” Dean says entering the infirmary.

“What happened to me?”

“You transformed into a wolf.” Sam says simply.

“But I still look human.”

“My brother and I are wolves as well. We’re both Alphas.”

“Oh, kay?” she looked confused.

“Show her.” Sam asks of Dean.

With total concentration Dean closed his eyes, cast his gaze down and his body morphed from human to a large black wolf. A large, black, four legged wolf.

Her eyes bugged out of her head; she was shocked yet amazed. “Pretty.”

Dean’s ears went down, as did his head when he turned to walk out.

“Did he not like that comment?”

“Not really.”

“Its just, wolves are my favorite animal. I really like wolves; he just was a really pretty wolf.”

“Nothing about this is pretty.” Dean grumbled back into the room in his robe.

“Look on the bright side of things man, you get to change into a wolf, you’re faster than your enemies, and you’re much stronger…” she trailed.

“Whatever.” Dean grumbled, leaving again.

“Is he always like that?”

“Yes, he’s not one for being positive about anything.”

She looked on after Dean, wonder what can she do the help cheer him up.

“But lets get you to a more suitable room.” Sam says, snapping her out of her gaze.

Taking her arm he helped her through the bunker. Slowly regaining her strength.

 “Okay!” they heard a scream from her room.

The brothers ran into her room to investigate.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

Seeing a half-naked Y/N, they see a tail emerge from her bottom. A pure, white, fluffy tail.

“Why do I have this tail?”

“Were you trying to transform?”

“How do I do that?”

“It’s hard to explain but it takes a lot of concentration.”

“Dean, what do I got to do?”

“What I do is close my eyes, so nothing distracts me. Then concentrate on one thing. Wolf or human, concentrate on that.”

She saw her do as he told her. Seeing her face scrunch up in a slight discomfort her tail shrunk into nothing.

“Is it supposed to be uncomfortable?”

“Yes, going full wolf is even weirder than having just the tail part.”

“It just felt like my spine just expanded.”

“It’s something to get used to.” Sam says before exiting.

She nods, and finishes getting dressed.

“How’d that happen anyway?” Dean asked.

“I don’t…I guess I was trying to do what you did…and it felt like something just popped out of my ass.”

Dean stifled a snorted chuckle.

“It’s not funny! It scared me.”

“Sorry, sorry, just…the delivery…Look, like Sam said, it’s something to get used to. And if you need anything, Sam and I are here. Just let us know, okay.”

“Okay.”

 “So get this…” Sam says entering the kitchen.

“I’ve found those wolves you missed Dean. They’re not far from here.”

“They could be after me, I mean I did wipe out their pack.”

They hear a whine down the hall. Deans ears practically perked up towards the noise. And he was up in a heartbeat.

Knocking hard on the door, Dean entered before she could acknowledge him to let him in.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, what is this?” she whined as she writhed in pain on her bed, holding her abdomen.

Dean could smell it.

“Oh, it’s your first heat, Omega.”

She let out a groan. Dean taken aback at the sound she made.

“You…you liked that I called you that.”

“What, no…I…I don’t know. What’s a heat?”

“It’s your period basically. And you get super, super horny.”

“And I’m gone.” Sam leaves abruptly.

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Do normal pain meds help this pain?”

“No, unfortunately being a wolf you have a different body chemistry when it comes to medication. Let’s head to a special doctor that helps our kind and he can give you some meds.”

“Okay, but favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you carry me?” she whines.

“Sure thing sweetheart.” He says with a sweet smile.

Once the appointment was done and out of the way Dean takes her back to the bunker.

“So you need sex just to help with the pain as well? Don’t you have toys?”

“Well, my toys aren’t for girls, I might have one that maybe you can use.”

“But what’s this I hear about the wolves…”

“You’re not going, not only are you still new to being a wolf, you’re in the middle of your first heat. Besides, Sam and I we got this. just hang back at the bunker, ride out your heat and we should be back soon.”

“Fine, I guess you’re right with the whole heat thing.”

“Trust me, you want to stay in. Some Alphas can get feral if they discover an new, unclaimed omega in heat.”

She shrunk in her seat at that fact.

“But don’t worry, I won’t let anyone touch you.” He adds quickly, seeing her relax again.

 She paced the library anxiously. Something told her gut something was wrong.

Why was she so worked up? She barely knew them; she only knew them for a few months.

She heard the bunker doors open, hearing heavy breathing at the top of the stairs, and the door closing. She hurries out of the library and into the war room. She sees Sam holding Dean over his shoulder. The color of his face pale and sickly. And she could smell it.

Silver.

“What happened?”

“They had a hunter with them, I never heard of a hunter allying with wolves before.”

“I have. It usually helps them on finding someone or something. But I was told to avoid that because it’s a scam. A scam where you can get dead quick.”

“Well, they sniped Dean with something, it’s released a poison into his system.”

“I think I know how to help. Lets get him into the infirmary.”

Sam had laid him down on one of the beds gently. Until he started convulsing.

Sam trying to hold him down.

“Don’t you’ll pull a muscle.” She advices.

“How can we help?”

“I called one of my hunting friends, he’s on his way down with the antidote. It’s simple, marigold, Echinacea roots, and calendula officinalis, not only will it treat the poison but other ailments as well. The burning, itching, to start.” She says holding up a needle that has the fluid form of all those ingredients inside the syringe.

Dean finally calmed down, falling into a deep comatose state.

Making a tourniquet, she injects the medicine into his arm. Pulling the tourniquet away while still injecting.

“Now we wait.” She says, pulling the needle out and placing a bandage on the injection site.

 Hours pass and his complexion looks better.

“He’s looking better,” Sam mentioned.

She looked at the injury site, seeing the inflammation going down.

“It’s working.”

“How’d you know?”

“My dad made the poison. I just so happen to know the antidote.”

“How do you think he’ll react when he finds out?”

“He won’t.”

“Why not?”

“He died a few years ago on a hunt. Vamp drained him dry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, he died saving people. The kids got out of there safe. I just couldn’t get to him in time.”

“You know it’s not your fault he’s dead, you know that right.”

“I know dr. Phil.”

Sam giving her a bitch face. Only making her giggle.

Dean moaned as he began to stir awake.

“Hey, take it easy Dean, you’re gonna feel shitty for a bit.”

“Great.” He grumbled.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“Awesome. I feel like I was being pulled apart and squished.”

“Joys of being poisoned.”

“How am I still here?”

“Y/N knew the antidote; she had a friend of hers bring it up.”

“How did she pull that off?”

“I told him the truth. He’s my childhood friend. He’s looked after me a lot growing up. He’s also older than me, he’s like my big brother.”

“Nice.” Dean says.

Sam and Y/N nodded.

Dean began to get up, only wincing in pain as he moved.

“Easy, just take it slow.” She advised.

“It all hurts.” Dean whined.

“Want us to help you to your bed?” she asked.

“No, I got it.” he says as he toughened through the pain. Getting up out of the bed and limping to his room.

“He’s just acting tough,” Sam mentions. “Anyway, I’m gonna head to bed. I suggest helping him.”

“I’ll try again. Alright, night Sam.”

Sam had walked the opposite direction of Dean down the hall heading to his room, Dean slowly walking to his room. Leaning against the wall now.

“Dean.”

“Okay, I might need help. This hurts.” Dean says, breathing hard and labored.

“Just lean against me, I’ll help you.” She says taking his arm around her shoulders. Taking half of his weight as he limped against her.

“How long am I gonna be like this?”

“I’d give it a few days. My dad made the poison to slow down a wolf and he’d capture them for questioning. Then he’d make the antidote, so he’d keep them alive for the questioning.”

“Ever since you changed, I keep forgetting you were a hunter.”

“Yeah, well, just be glad my friend was one, able to the help and B, that I even made large batches of the antidote to begin with.”

They finally made it to his room, room 11. She helped him get to his bed. Dean landing on the bed on his side with a huff.

“You plan on sleeping in all those clothes?”

“No, I’ll sleep naked, I ain’t getting up to change, fuck that.” He grumbled, laying there, his eyes close. His face scrunched up in pain.

“Dean, I want to help.”

“I get that you do. But I barely know you. I’m not gonna have you strip me down.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep.”

“Okay, just, holler if you need help.” she says turning to leave. “Night Dean.”

She heads to her room. And she can hear him grunting and groaning as he took his clothes off all while laying down. Only making her chuckle. Shaking her head.

 Sam and Dean had left the bunker on a hunt for the wolves again.

It had been months and they have resurfaced again.

She found herself pacing again. Just like last time.

No, not again. she thought.

She calls up her hunter friend telling him where to meet her.

Once out of the bunker she transforms into her wolf form for the first time.

Oh wow, that was…yep, definitely weird. She thought.

She ran, following Dean and Sam’s scent.

The scent took her to a forest, and she smelled something off.

Blood.

But who’s blood is that? She wondered.

Just outside of the forest she sees her friend.

Turning into her human form to be able to communicate.

“Did you bring them?”

“Wow, you’re very naked!”

“FOCUS!”

“Yes, I brought the poison darts and the antidote in case any of you get hit by theirs.”

“Stay alert, these wolves are like me, Sam and Dean.”

“Winchester?”

She nodded. “Why? You heard of them?”

“Yeah, they were humans once. But that was a while ago.”

“What?!”

“Focus Y/N, your friends need you.”

“Right, I’ll talk to them later about that.”

“Now go get them pipsqueak.”

Turning back into wolf form she runs into the forest, keeping a nose out for Dean or Sam.

Hearing feral growls and snarls caught her attention.

She saw golden wolf with white patters hurt, and laying under a tree. And a solid black wolf attacking two wolves all his own.

Dean. She thought.

But when one wolf gets on top of him, she jumps into action.

“Dean!” though words didn’t escape her mouth.

She pounced on the dog pile, going after the wolf she spotted on top of Dean.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean shouted.

She can hear him? How’s that? She wondered.

“Sorry!”

“Oh, how cute, his little omega friend coming to his rescue.” The opposing wolf said.

The two wolves were alphas, but not the alpha that changed her.

One wolf, all black with few white patterns. And the other grey with white patterns. They stood in front of them. Dean next to her.

He was larger than her form, but she felt safe next to him. And also willing to protect him even if he didn’t want it.

“This is too pathetic.” The grey wolf says.

“Can it Balto!” Dean barked.

“Let’s end this. Now.” Said the black and white wolf.

As they stood there, ready to pounce one another. She smelled it. Another hunter, it’s not her friend. And he had his sights on Dean.

“Dean!” she shouted, getting between him and the hunter.

The hunter fired. A dart hitting her the back of her shoulder.

A shot rang out.

Y/N’s hunter friend had his regular gun, he in defense of his friends, killed the hunter before he could take another shot at his friend. Or Dean.

“They brought a hunter!” the grey wolf panicked.

The hunter taking two quick shots, hitting the wolves with poison darts.

“Lets get out of here!” The black and white wolf shouted as they ran off.

They ran only a few feet, allowing the poison to pump quickly through their system.

“Shit, I don’t feel good.” The grey wolf stated, slowing down.

“We just got to get to the hunters stash and find this antidote.” The black and white wolf pushed.

The grey wolf collapsed with a whine.

“No, not now.” The black and white wolf panted.

Collapsing as well. They died quickly, after a moment after their bodies landed on the ground.

Dean hurried to her.

She had transformed back to her human form. Panting hard and labored she laid on the forest floor.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Dean says. Taking her into his arms. Making her cry out.

He looked around panicked. Seeing her hunter friend coming through the woods.

“Oh, you both are very naked.” He comments.

“Do you have the antidote?”

“I do, here, let me.” He says.

Cleaning her arm, making a quick tourniquet, he injects the needle in her vein hoping for quick work of the antidote.

“Sam’s hurt,”

“I know, I got him in my car, where do you want me to take him?”

“The bunker, where you gave her the antidote for me.”

“Okay.” He says, running for his car.

“Hang in there Y/N, you’re gonna be okay.” Dean says as he picks her up, getting up on his own two feet he runs to his impala. Speeding all the way back to the bunker.

 She woke up in Dean’s room, feeling sore and weak.

She stirred awake, sitting up feeling her muscles achy, stiff, and sore.

“Easy sweetheart.” She heard next to her.

She saw Dean on a couch by his bed. Getting up to sit by her on his bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Did you get them?”

“Yeah, your hunter friend did. He went back to clean up the mess before anyone saw.”

“I just had a gut feeling something bad was gonna happen if I didn’t come to help.”

“Deep down I’m glad you did, but this is why I wish you didn’t. You almost died out there.” Dean’s voice wavered.

“I’m aware of that, but I didn’t want you going through that again.”

Dean took her hand in his, putting it to his cheek, taking in her scent.

“Dean, I’m okay.” She assures him.

He bends down, kissing her forehead. “Don’t scare me like that again.” he whispers.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Oh would you two please, make out already!” Sam says from the door.

“Sam,” Dean snapped.

Sam just rolling his eyes and leaving. Making Y/N giggle.

When Dean turned his head back towards her, he found her lips on hers.

Shocked at first for a brief second, he quickly returned the kiss.

What started as a sweet kiss quickly turned hungry and needy.

Not before long they shed their clothes, lips always staying attached in the heated kiss.

Dean pulling away, noticing a scent.

“Oh, of course your heat is starting soon isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is, now alpha, please,” she whined.

“Such a needy omega.”

Dean ground his hips against hers, letting his hardening member brush between her folds, glistening with her slick.

“Making slick like no one’s business too.”

“Fuck me alpha, I need your knot.”

“Do you want that? You want me to mate you?”

“I want you Dean; I think we both knew what was happening as time went on.”

“You’re my omega.”

“And you’re my alpha.”

She felt the tip of his member entering, slowly stretching her along his girthy cock.

She felt his balls hit against her ass, he was fully seated with in her, he pulls out then thrusts back in without resistance.

Her jaw drops in the pleasure that shot through her body.

He began a rough and fast pace with each heavy thrust. The sound of wet sex filling the room aside from their moans.

She could feel Dean’s knot getting bigger and bigger, and with one thrust he locks in throwing her into a dizzying orgasm, making her see stars as he fills her up full of his seed.

In that moment of their orgasms hitting, she felt his teeth bite into her shoulder, her doing the same a second later.

He releases her after his knot calmed down after what seemed like hours. He continued a slow thrust as he kissed and licked the mark he made on her neck and shoulder. He could feel her doing the same. Humming against his skin.

“My ‘mega.” He says against her.

“My alpha.” She purrs into his ear, kissing at the base of it.

 She woke up in Dean’s arms, feeling the remanence of last nights activities dripping down her thigh as she adjusted herself. Making Dean stir awake.

“Morning Omega.”

She purrs at her title.

“Morning Alpha.”

They heard a pair of footsteps stopping by the door.

“You know, I’m glad you guys took my advice and made out, but you could have shut the door.”

“Sorry Sammy.”

“Yeah, well, it spurred me into my rut, so thanks a lot.”

“You’ve got your toys Sam; my omega is off limits!” Dean growled.

“I know Dean, and I wasn’t even thinking about doing your omega!” Sam argues as he walks to the kitchen.

“Be nice Dean, we did trigger his rut after all.”

“Yeah well, if he’s in his rut, that means mine’s not far off.”

“Well, I’m here for you Alpha.” She says curling into him, snuggling close.

He holds her close, purring in acknowledgment.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Dean.”

~

a/n: Part 2

a/n #2: What’d you think? I know I left out a major portion of some story maybe it could be for another part, who knows. Feedback is always appreciated. :3

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @mlovesstories​, @akshi8278​, @flamencodiva​, @megzdoodle​, @shawnie74​, @misfit0118​, @anotherspnfanfic​, @lyarr24​, @missmemoire09​, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/17/2021

[loveinterestcastiel]

sursum corda

Part one of a new canon divergent series, “A Sacrament to Be Taken Kneeling”

Summary: the opening dialogue to the eucharistic prayer, or anaphora, translated to english means “lift up your hearts”, and is the beginning of a devout worshipper’s holy communion with god

Canon divergent from 6x22, this one is rated M for religious blasphemy, power dynamics, and mature subject matter (later installments will be rated E for violence, sexual content, and graphic depictions of blood). Honestly this is just a fucked up exploration of the catholicnatural that could have been if the spn writers hadn’t been cowards and had instead really leaned into the whole Godstiel thing, and his dynamic with Dean. I’m going to hell for this and you know what? That’s just fine with me.

It can be read here or in AO3! Enjoy <3

Castiel was brighter than the sun, and he was beautiful. He was the most terrifying thing Dean had ever seen, because somewhere in there, he could still see Cas, the old Cas. He let Crowley go. Dean was going to kill that demon, but- later. Later, when they got out of here and got Sammy put back together.

Then Castiel blew Raphael up with nothing more than a snap of his fingers, and their most formidable adversary, after all these months, was suddenly just a bloody smear on the wall. The last Apocalyptic threat, gone, just like that, leaving Dean and Bobby alone with a Cas-gone-nuclear.

They were so, so fucked.

Cas looked over to Dean, his face softening incrementally but still distinctly smug.

"So you see," he said, turning away from Dean and moving as if to inspect his explosive handiwork, "I saved you."

Dean Winchester is saved.

“You sure did, Cas,” Dean said faintly, drifting further into Cas’s orbit as if somehow compelled. Castiel didn’t acknowledge him, keeping his back turned, his spine ramrod straight. Damage control. Holy fucking shit, damage control right now. “Thank you.”

“You doubted me. Fought against me.” He slowly turned to face Dean, a mockery of their first meeting in that rundown barn years ago, tilting his head the same way, his blue eyes the same limitless color and just as mesmerizing, but somehow about a million times more unsettling. “But I was right all along.”

Dean’s stomach swooped. “Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry,” he added quickly, his breath shallow and shaky. “Now let’s just defuse you, okay?” he suggested, the words cumbersome and heavy in his mouth.

Cas narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. “What do you mean?” he asked icily.

Dean forged on desperately. “You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe, so before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.” Oh, he felt like he was going to be sick. Please, Cas, please just listen to me…

“Oh, no, they belong with me,” Cas countered, his tone almost patronizing, like he was speaking to a child.

“No, Cas,” Dean interrupted before his brain or his fear could catch up to him. “It’s- it’s scrambling your brain.”

“No, I’m not finished yet,” he said firmly, with the ghost of a cold smile tugging on his features. “Raphael had many followers, and I must-” Cas paused, choosing his words, “punish them all severely,” he finished deliberately.

Bobby’s eyes darted over to Dean. He was visibly horrified.

Okay. One last effort. Okay.

Dean shoved down his fear and tried again. “Listen to me.” He stepped closer to Cas, swallowing hard as his voice fought to stick in his throat and looking steadily into his eyes. “Listen- I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge. But we were family, once,” he pleaded. “I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times.” Castiel’s face remained impassive but Dean continued. “So if that means anything to you- please,” he begged, abandoning his pride. “I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.”

Castiel wrenched his eyes away from Dean’s and cast his gaze down to the floor between them. Was he considering it?

“You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas,” he tried to reason. “Get rid of it before it kills us all.”

A beat.

“You’re just saying that because I won,” Cas mused, raising his gaze back up to look at Dean again, pinning him there like a specimen under a microscope. “Because you’re afraid . You’re not my family, Dean,” he said, closing the remaining distance between them until he stood less than an arm’s reach away, positively radiating power, the air vibrating with it. “You’re just… human.”

His eyes lingered on Dean’s face, tracing his freckles, his eyelashes. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. Castiel’s face hardened into stone, his next words iron. “I have no family.”

The words rang in Dean’s ears, banging about his brain and battering it into despair. It felt like a small death, his heart pulling on his ribs as he floundered for a new angle to pursue.

And then Sam was there, behind Castiel, and he just stabbed him with an angel blade, and Cas was swaying just a bit with the blade still stuck in his back as Sam gasped for air behind him, clearly distressed and stumbling backwards.

Dean froze, horrified.

What the FUCK were you thinking, Sam?

But- oh. Oh god.

Cas wasn’t dead. It didn’t work. His brain buzzed blankly with a static-y sensation of bewilderment as Cas reached around himself and pulled out the blade- shiny, clean, utterly free of blood- with an alarming squelching noise.

"I'm glad you made it, Sam," Cas said in a distressingly level voice, placing the newly-extricated angel blade on the table in front of him before turning to glance at Sam. “But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore,” he said, matter-of-fact as could be, as if he hadn’t just dropped yet another massive bomb on their lives. Sam looked to Bobby, his eyes wide, and Bobby shrugged back minutely, similarly floored.

Look at me, Cas, leave Sammy alone, you’ve done enough-

As if he heard Dean’s thoughts- fuck, was he praying?- Castiel turned back to Dean and met his eyes. “I’m your new God,” he said, with an air of authority and immense self-satisfaction permeating his words. “A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in the periphery of Dean’s vision as time seemed to swirl and slow down to a crawl- clearly, he hadn’t expected this either.

Sammy was strung out and swaying on his feet behind Cas, his eyes darting and rolling over the room as he rode out the hellish things that tormented him in his head, seemingly incapable of reacting to the gravity of the situation as what Cas had done put him out of his mind with fear.

In the span of a heartbeat, Dean made his choice. He had no choice.

He fell to his knees.

The crack of bone on hard tile was near agony. His gun clattered uselessly to the ground beside him as he shifted his gaze to land somewhere around the hem of Castiel’s coat. He couldn’t look at his face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. It was almost impossible to believe the terrifying figure before him was once his closest friend, and had saved him from Heaven and Hell alike before he had turned into whatever this was.

His throat was dry. He forced himself to swallow, drawing his tongue over his bottom lip as he tried to find the right words.

Bobby started to kneel, too. Survival instincts, probably. He’d have never gotten this old without them, anyway.

“My lord,” he began hesitantly.

The new God waved his hand dismissively at the title. “Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean corrected himself. Great start, you fuck up. “Cas, I swore my obedience to Heaven, once. To God, and his angels. To you,” his voice cracked as he risked a glance at the former angel. His eyes were like fire. Glowing. Unreal.

Bobby interrupted: “Dean, no-���

But Castiel snapped up a hand, palm out, and Bobby’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. “You will be silent,” Castiel ordered, his eyes never leaving Dean. He looked intrigued by Dean’s sudden compliance and admission. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, Dean. What can you possibly say to justify your lack of faith in me up until now? I could have cast you back into the pit, and Sam, too, had I not done this, all of it, for you.”

“I know you did, Cas,” Dean said. “Thank you. I- thank you. You were right, about everything, and I should have listened to you. I was wrong. I should have trusted you.” The words tasted like poison in his mouth. A part of him meant it. A part of him was just desperate enough to say anything. The rest of him wanted to see the cold monster in front of him dead. But how could he turn back now, without sentencing them all to death? If he played his cards right, he might even be able to save Castiel. Surely if he could get him to let go of those souls, he’d start to see reason, would be Cas again. But he was getting ahead of himself. Gotta think a little more short-term, right now. Band-aids and duct tape, not trauma surgery.

“I was blind,” Dean said, “and proud. I took you for granted, and I can do better. Be better. For- for you.”

He had never felt so weak. Groveling to his dad was different. He was his dad’s son, sure, but there was no love there. It was all survival, clinical, even his rage and his fists when Dean didn’t do enough to earn his mercy were detached. Duty and discipline and disappointment. This was different. It was hot with near-tears, messy and filled with grief for a man who wasn’t even dead. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told Cas he was like a brother to him. It was the closest comparison he had for what the angel was to his heart. He had never needed anyone like he needed Castiel- because he wasn’t Sammy, or Bobby, or Lisa, or Ben, or Cassie, or any other category of need. He was just Cas. And Dean wanted him in his life. Or he used to, anyway.

“I don’t know what I can do to make it right between us, Cas,” he said, his throat tightening slightly. “But I want to,” Dean offered, looking down in shame. “I want to be-” he choked out.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked, taking another step forward, the very picture of authority and control. One more step and Dean could reach out and touch him. The air was electric, heady with power as it positively radiated from his body.

He lifted his head to meet Castiel’s eyes in a pose of supplication, his knees aching, his eyes burning with tears as the situation started to overwhelm him. “I want to be forgiven,” he gasped out. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us.”

“And Sam’s betrayal?” Castiel inquired, casting new fear into Dean’s heart. “He stabbed me in the back. And he has not knelt as you have. Why should I offer him mercy?” he mused.

“Look at him, Cas,” Dean said quietly. Sam was hunched over on the floor in the corner, holding his head in his hands, rocking slightly into the wall and pushing off of it again in a strange repetitive motion. “He can’t follow any of this. I don’t think he even knows where we are. It’s been getting worse as time passes. He was slightly more coherent an hour ago, but-” Dean shook his head. “I think he was just trying to protect me. I don’t think he even knew who you were, just- saw a threat and tried to take it out.”

Cas made a noncommittal little noise, glancing over to where Sam had retreated.

“Cas,” Dean said, drawing his attention back to himself. “He didn’t know what he was doing. Can you try to forgive him that?” he pleaded as the first tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“And in return?”

“Anything,” Dean swore. “Just- Cas, please. I’ll do anything. I will, I swear it. Just please help Sammy.”

“It won’t be as easy as you think,” Castiel warned. “I want your trust, Dean. I want the bond we once had, and your submission to my better judgement, untainted by your... fear.” His voice turned hungry, reminiscent of when they worked that killer Cupid case last year and it turned out to be Famine. To be on the receiving end of desire of that magnitude was by turns exhilarating and horrifying. “I want your love.”

“Cas,” Dean said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from his friend’s face even as Bobby attempted to fight his holy gag order from his place next to him. “I… I’ll try. For you,” he added, trying to add a note or resolve to his voice as his thoughts roared in fear and grappled with the idea, stuck on the precipice of this terrible new unknown he had run up against. But he truly had no choice. Sink or swim.

“I swear, Cas,” he said, raising his hand to his heart, “I’ll try.”

Castiel’s eyes softened. They stopped glowing.

Suddenly, for a moment, he looked just like himself. More than that, he looked heartbreakingly human.

He moved suddenly, sending Dean’s heart sprinting again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

But he didn’t hurt him. He didn’t hurt Sam, or smite Bobby, or engage in any sort of holy wrath. He just kneeled, in front of Dean, and clasped his clammy hands briefly in his own warm, dry ones before shifting them both to his right hand and raising his right palm to Dean’s cheek, his eyes darting over his features with an air of disbelieving gratitude. It was so...

Castiel had lovely hands, Dean noticed. Strong, soft, and broad, with a gentle grip and long, agile fingers. So different from Dean’s own hands, already scarred from the last few years of wear and tear since his resurrection. Of course, he’d noticed before. Noticed that sort of thing about Castiel, how he used his hands to fight, to pray, to eat and to comfort, how they looked drenched in blood and how they looked at rest. How they looked striking a blow to his own face, and how they looked when he healed him. They were one of a million things Dean knew about him better than he knew himself.

“Oh, Dean,” he said softly, “That’s all I ask of you. Just try. Lift up your heart to me, and I will give you everything.”

Dean inhaled sharply, his chest tight as he leaned into the touch. "It's yours," he breathed out, "It's all yours, Cas."

Castiel smiled, and the world fell away.

Tagging in some people who I think might be interested, just dm me to be added or removed: @castieljew @dependsupon @autisticandroids @sunforgrace @heller-jensen @lateral-org @cactuscas @adhdeancas @icaruscastiel @holmesemrys @evermorecastiel @yana125 @faithcastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @i-sing-for-me @whatevr-4evr @sonder-stars @jeanne-de-valois

[supersupernaturalimagines]

Crazy to Think

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Summary - Castiel Request: When you almost get yourself killed for Castiel, it makes him start to question everything. Does age really matter when you care that much for someone? 

Word Count - 1,856

Warnings - Canon typical violence and some language, but that’s it! 

You knew in the back of your mind that it could never work. From the moment that angels had walked into your family’s life, you had learned very quickly that they were no good. They were not the strong protectors and guardians that you had always heard they were. In fact, most of the angels that you had met so far turned out to be nothing but pricks, doing whatever it took to make their own agenda pass. They cared little about anything else. So the thought of having one of them care for you didn’t seem possible. 

Castiel wasn’t like any other angel you knew though, and that was why it had been so easy to sacrifice your life for him. 

The blade had punctured something. You were sure of that by the amount of blood that you could feel leaking through your clothes. What organ it had, you didn’t have a clue. You didn’t care much anyway. You couldn’t when Castiel was holding you in his arms, one of his hands clutching you to his chest while the other held your head upright. He was calling your name, and it took a lot of attention to focus, but you did so, for him. “You have to stay awake. I’m going to heal you.” 

“Urgh, I know, but it still hurts like hell.” You groaned, letting out a hiss of pain as Castiel pressed his hands against your wound. “Shit, Cass!” 

“Shut up and let him do it, Kid.” Dean said, dropping down beside you and glancing at Castiel. “You can fix her up?” 

“Yes, but not here. They’ve put up symbols to weaken my powers.” Castiel replied, sparing him a glance before his gaze and those gentle blue eyes focused on yours once more. “I will have to carry you, and it will hurt.” 

“Doesn’t it always?” Another groan left your lips, and you turned your head to bury it in Castiel’s shoulder. You didn’t want the man you loved and the man you considered a brother to see you cry. You never wanted to be anything less than strong for them. 

You felt a hand clasp your shoulder for a brief moment and then withdraw. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Dean. “All right, let’s get out of here as quick as possible.” 

Without another word, you felt Castiel lift you into the air. The next few minutes were a blur of pain and blackness. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you forced yourself awake by trying to remind yourself that this was probably the first and last time that Castiel would be carrying you in his arms. 

And of course, the moment you all broke free from the tree lines, demons surrounded you. “Take her and go!” Dean yelled at Castiel. 

Castiel looked torn, “but Dean -!”

“I’ve got this! Go!” Dean yelled again. 

This time, Castiel didn’t hesitate. You heard the flutter of wings, and the two of you were outside the bunker. Castiel rushed the two of you inside, placing you on the couch before bringing his hand to your abdomen. 

You had always loved watching Castiel heal people, the gentle touch he would press against their skin, the way that his eyes would close in concentration . . . knowing you were going to see him like that was one of the few things keeping you conscious. 

As soon as his hands rested once more on your injury, a warmth flowed through them into you. You closed your eyes as white hot warmth seemed to enter your body, then vanish away. After you opened your eyes, you glanced down to find your wound healed. 

Once you were better, you had expected Castiel to let go of you at once, but instead, you found him staring at you, his expression unreadable. “Cass?” You whispered, the expression on his face making your heart start to pound against your chest. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked, the slightest frown on his face. 

There wasn’t any question as to what he was referring to. You had taken a stab from an angel blade for him. A stab that could have killed you if Castiel didn’t have his grace. Thinking back on it, there hadn’t been much thought in the first place. “I . . . I did it. I didn’t think about it.” 

Castiel shook his head, the confusion clear in his eyes. “Human life is so fleeting. Barely a leaf passing in the wind, and your life has just begun. It doesn’t make sense that you would risk it for -”

“I didn’t want to live in a world without you alright? With no guarantee that you would be brought back to us.” You snapped, once again annoyed that he had brought up your age. You weren’t that much younger than Sam, yet it was something that was brought up all the time. Yes, you were young, but not that young. “I’m done losing people I love.” You said, hoping that for once he would catch the double meaning to your words. 

After several moments of staring at each other, you opened your mouth, ready to take back everything that you had said, but Castiel beat you to it. “I must go help Dean.” He said, and with the soft sound of feathers unfurling, he was gone. 

Turning over, you groaned into the pillow, embarrassed. You weren’t sure why you kept putting yourself through this pain over and over expecting a different result. 

Castiel was never going to care for you the same way that you cared for him. He was an Angel afterall. You weren’t even sure if they could be in love. 

Apparently the fight had taken more out of you than you thought, because sometime later you woke up to the sound of three familiar voices nearby.

“So what happened when you brought her back?” Sam was asking. 

“I healed her.” Castiel replied, and once again, you could hear the confusion in his words from here. 

“After that, Cass? Did she give you a big kiss of thanks? Or did you plant one on her for saving your life?” Dean asked, digging for more information. 

Castiel hesitated a moment before responding this time. “She did say that she loved me.” 

You could only assume that one of them had spit out their food, and by the hoarse sound in his voice, you figured it was Dean. “About damn time, did she blurt it out or something?” 

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that. She said she saved me because she couldn’t lose anyone else that she loved.” Castiel told the brothers. 

“That’s the same thing, Cass. So did you plant one on her then?” Dean asked. 

No he most certainly hadn’t, but you did find it a tad bit embarrassing that the whole crew seemed to know about your, not so subtle, crush on Cass. 

“I did not.” Castiel admitted. “I went back to help you.” 

“Wait . . . you left her here? Without saying anything else?” Sam spoke up in disbelief. 

“Yes . . . Was there something else I should have done?” Castiel asked. 

“You mean besides plant one on her?!” Dean questioned. 

“Dude! Stop saying that. It’s weird.” Sam interrupted, and then he focused his attention back on Cass. “You should have said something Cass. Didn’t you want to?” 

You tilted your head back towards the door, making sure you could hear every word that Castiel was about to say. “Of course I did. I just wasn’t sure if it was . . . appropriate. She is rather young.” 

“Well if you’re waiting for someone around your own age, you might be waiting a while.” Dean told him, and you couldn’t help but smirk at his response, amused that at least someone wasn’t taking that bullshit response. 

“Does it matter anyway?” Sam asked him. 

There was silence, and you waited with bated breath for Castiel’s response. “What do you mean?” 

Of course, Dean was the one to speak up. “He means if you think age is what’s standing in your way, you’re lying to yourself.” He told him. 

“And whatever you’re scared of, you should go talk to her about it.” Sam suggested, and it sounded like someone clapped Castiel on the shoulder. 

Then there was silence, and you turned back as fast as you could to the position you had woken up in, afraid one of them would walk in and realize you had eavesdropped on their whole conversation. Sure enough, you felt footsteps heading straight towards you, and tried to deepen your breathing, but you tried too hard. 

Castiel said your name without any attempt of being quiet. “I know you are awake. Normally when you sleep, your heart rate is much lower.” He told you. 

You felt the heat rising to your face as you opened your eyes, embarrassed at being caught. “How long have you known I was awake?” You asked. 

“As soon as you woke up.” He responded, as if surprised by your question. “I assume you heard everything?” When you nodded, he gestured to the other end of the couch. “May I?” 

Nodding, you sat up and moved your feet so that he could sit down beside you. “Is Sam right . . . or is it the age thing?” You asked after being unable to take the silence for a second longer. 

Castiel still made you wait, his eyes on his hands as he wrung them for a few moments. Finally though, he looked up at you, a soft expression on his face. “I suppose it’s both. Your life is so fleeting, even if you are younger. I don’t want you to waste it on unknowns with me, no matter how I might feel about you.” 

You leaned forward onto your knees, desperate for the answer to your next question. “How do you feel about me, Castiel? If we were two regular people, angels, whatever . . . How would you feel?” 

His eyes drifted down to your lips for a moment, then made their way back up to yours. “I care for you deeply. A lot more than I should, and if we were two regular people . . . I would not be questioning what I wanted.” 

Your heart must have leapt out of your chest at his words. For so long you had been sure that there was no way that Castiel could feel the same way for you that you felt for him. Now, here he was, confessing that he, in fact, did. “Castiel . . .” You leaned forward to close the small distance between the two of you. 

But he stopped you, his hand resting on your cheek and caressing your skin with his thumb. “But we are not two regular people . . . and I can’t risk putting you in any more danger than you already are, because that’s what being with me would lead to. Danger.” 

Your heart, that had been so high moments ago, crashed back into your chest with blinding pain. You leaned back, away from his touch. “That’s not -”

“I must go.” Before you could even say another word, he was gone. 

And you were left . . . with nothing but a broken heart.

[itsthestutterforme]

Forgotten 1/2 (Supernatural)

Summary: Y/N commits suicide and the Winchester tried to cope with her death. Jack refuses to believe it so he brings her back to life. He thought things were fine until he realized Y/N didn't have any memories of them.

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicide. Make sure you check in on your friends and family. You don't know what they're going through and staying quiet about it.

Characters: Jack x reader, Sam x reader, Dean x reader, Castiel x reader, Henry Cavill as Ruben

--

The bunker sounded quiet and lifeless without Y/N there. The past few months, she's been going through a rough patch with her. One day, the Winchesters came back from a week long hunt to find her in the bathtub with her wrists slit.

Dean pulled out her of the tub and wrapped her in a bed sheet because he knew that Sam couldn't see Y/N like that. He also know that Sam didn't have the heart to bury her, but the image of her pale, lifeless corpse was forever seared in their brains.

This happened a few weeks after Jack killed Mary and they are barely holding themselves together. Y/N was like a big sister to Jack, and when Castiel told him what happened to her he was heartbroken. He snuck into the bunker before they burned her body and transported her to a random warehouse.

He hovered his hands over her and snapped his eyes shut to concentrate all of his power to bring Y/N back to life. After a few minutes, your body jolts up and you gasp for air. "Y/N?" Jack says excitedly.

Your Y/E/C scanned the room of broken windows and brick walls starting to detierate. Your eyebroes furrow when you see a young boy staring at you happily.

"I'm sorry but.. who are you?" You asks. His smile falls and his eyes saddened. "What? You dont know who I am?" You shake your head and add, "No idea." "I need to call Castiel," he says slowly. His jaw clenched as he eyes focused on a random spot on the bed. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and dials a number.

"Please stay here," "Who's Castiel?" You ask. "Someone you care about you. Just please stay here until we figure this out," he says, clearing in distress. "Okay." He walks towards the doorway but doesn't leave the room. "Cas, something went wrong." "Jack, what did you do?" A man with a low, scratchy voice says.

"Y/N is alive. I brought her back to life before they could burn her body," Jack explains. Burn my body? Was I murdered? Is he my killer? You think to yourself. "You what?" "She's awake now but she doesn't know who I am and I don't know what to do." Jack says all in one breathe. "Okay, where are you?"

"I don't know, some warehouse a few miles from the bunker." Jack answers. "I'm on my way, just keep an eye on her." Cas says before hanging up. Jack's gaze fall on you and your heart starts to race.

He makes his way towards you and sits back down on the chair. "Don't be nervous, Y/N. I would never hurt you. You're like a sister to me."

"What happened to me?" "I think Cas is better at explaining that than I am." You cross your legs and push your hair back so it's out of your face. "Can I lay on you?" He asks. "What?"

You barely even know this kid, but honestly, he does look like a kid. A kid that's been through a lot more than he should have, you give in.

You let out a slow sigh before scooting over on the bed. The bed creaks with every movement and you were surprised it didn't collapse under you.

Jack sits down next to you and lays his head where your shoulder and chest meet. A soft sigh leaves his lips and there was a moment of silence before you hear a sniffle.

"You okay?" You say, looking at him. "I really missed you, Y/N. You're really important to me and I'm sorry I could be there for you when you needed me." He croaks. "Jac-" "Jack!" Castiel's voice echoes through the warehouse.

Jack stands up from the bed and says, "In here." Cas follows the voice to the room and stops when he sees your laying there, staring at him.

You stand up from the bed too and Cas rushes over to you. He takes you into his arms and you stand there awkwardly, letting your arms dangle by your side. "She doesn't remember who you are, remember?" Jack says. Cas pulls away, wiping away some of his tears. "Right, I forgot about that. Sorry," Cas says to you.

"That's okay," you say with a soft smile. Cas matches your expression and his eyes fixated on yours, like he was having a conversation in his mind. "Her not remembering us may be for the best, Jack."

Cas looks over his shoulder at Jack. "What? No, I need her. We need her." Jack explains. "This life had already taken enough away from her. She needs her life back."

"You love her. How can you let her go?" "Sometimes, you can love someone so much that you know letting them go is what's best for them," "We just got her back." Jack says, on the verge of tears. My heart sank into your chest.

"Name the place, and we'll take you there with a snap of our fingers." Cas says, returining his gaze back you. You glance over a Jack and say, "A road trip doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"He's just a kid, Castiel. He needs emotional support," you add and a small smile tugged at his lips. "What?" "You're sounding to act a little but like yourself," he explains. You exchange a smile and Jack asks, "What about Sam and Dean?" "I'll handle it," Cas says.

**

It's been two months since Castiel and Jack dropped you off in Chicago. You had enough common sense to live in a city, and there was something drawing you to Chicago. But you have no idea what it was.

One night you were walking out of the subway to walk a couple blocks from your apartment. You were grabbed and dragged into an alleyway. A hand was pressed to your mouth and you stared into the eyes of a fairly attractive man.

His navy blue eyes search yours and he moved his plump, pink lips to whisper, "Don't say scream or making any noise. You're being followed."

He pulls his hand away and looks over at the sidewalk you were just walking on. His has a well groomed goatee and get black hair that is combed to the side in a thick swoop to the right.

He looked like a classic mobster. He even has the black trench coat and all and you eye him suspiciously. You look to the sidewalk with the shadow of a large figure grows closer.

Your heart is racing but nothing is telling you to run. Everything is telling you to fight. The man was still relatively close to you and not moving. "What are you doing?" He leans in closer and crashes his lips onto yours.

He cups your cheeks and tilts his head to the side to gain more access to your mouth. Your body plattens on the brick wall and footsteps walks passed the alleyway.

The man finally pulls away and you lift your leg to kick him away by the solar plexus. He falls flat on his back and you say, "What the hell was that for?" He up from the ground and said, "You're a tough broad, aren't you?" "Damn straight. You pull anything like that again and I'll do alot more than kick you."

You hear a woman's shrill and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You rush into the alley way and run towards the sound of her screaming. You slide to a stop to see a man trying to drag a woman I to the alleyway.Your eyes scan around for a weapon and you find an iron poker. Thank God you have your tetanus shot.

You keep a tight grip on the rod and swung the rod at the arm. The man grunts in pain and let's go of the woman. "Run," you command. She looked at me reluctantly. "It's alright." She shakes her head and says, "Girls support girls." She pulls out her pepper spray from her purse and we both turn our attention to the attacker.

He was still cradling his arm and when you take a step towards him. He stumbles backwards and says, "I-I'm not looking for any trouble." "Oh, I thin-"

"You okay, darling?" Your boyfriend, Ruben, asks. He walks up behind me and slides a hand down my arm. "Yeah, just think about how we first met," "Oh you mean when you kicked on my ass like a rag doll?" He teased as he sat down across from me.

"To be fair, you kissed me randomly and I didn't know who you were. And the guy that attacked Y/F/N worked for you."

"Well can you blame me? You're drop dead goregous and I wanted to know what you were made of." "So you tried to attack me?" "You can learn a lot about someone by how they fight. Most girls either run away or fight to run away. You fight to protect others." "And that's when I knew I had to have you." He adds, tapping his thigh for you to sit on.

You stand up and sit down perpendicular to his body. His hand trails down to your lower back and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. As the kiss intensifies, his hands fell lower and lower down your leg.

He pulls you so you're straddling his lap. He grips your ass and your roll your hips a little, making him moan. Who knew that you would end up falling for a mobster?

**

You've grown quite used to be Ruben's right hand woman. He made me in charge of the tactics and strategy because you have strength in planning and preparation. You were in the middle of planning for a drop off and pick up back while Ruben was out conducting business.

You hear a loud struggle and grunts. You look up from your notepad to see some henchmen walking a taller man into the red room. All of them were bloody and disheveled from fighting. "What happened to you guys?" You say as you approach them. "Y/N? You're really alive?" The man asks.

"How do you know me?" You ask. "He doesn't. He's just trying to save his ass because he knows he's going to meet his maker," one of the henchmen says.

The man reaches and touches your face. You gasp in shock of his warm, calloused hands but you only felt it for a second before he is shoved to his knees. One of the henchmen pulled out his gun and cocks it.

"Hey, trigger happy, put the gun down " you command. "Boss says to kill anyone who interferes with our business. We found him tearing one of our warehouses apart."

This man's touch feels familiar and something tells me to let him live. "Let him go," you state. "What?" "Did I stutter? I said let him go." He puts his gun away and you help the man up.

"Look, I don't know you, b--" "Dean. My name is Dean." He interupts. "Dean, you need to leave Chicago and never return." His hazel green eyes scan your face and he nods. You motion to the door and he says, "I'll always love you, Y/N." You two lock eyes for a moment before he walks out of the door.

"Boss will-" "I'll tell him what happened, don't worry about it." "Worry about what?" Ruben says, making the henchmen jump. "Privacy," you tell them and they all walk away. "Worry about what, baby doll?" "One of the warehouses was trashed," you say with a sigh.

You walk into your office and lean against your desk. "Did they find who did it?" "Yes," "Did they toss them in the red room?"

"No," you say. You eyes dart away from his gaze and he asks, "Why not?" "I knew him." "Y/N, you made a vow to not let personal affairs mess with business."

"I know, okay. I'll pay whatever price. I'll pay for the damages out of my own pocket and go to the warehouse to cl-" "You're going nowhere near that warehouse," "Come on, baby, talk to me." He adds, sitting next to you.

"Remember how I said that I had a life before I went to Chicago but I didn't remember it," "Because of your head trauma, yeah." He answers.

"I think he knew me before then. He knew who I was but I had no idea who he was. All I know is that his touch was familiar an-" "Wait, he touched you?" His jaw flexed and he stands up from leaning on the desk.

"Y-yes, but only for a second." "He's a dead man," "Ruben, please," you say, standing between him and the door. He steps so close to you that your chin gently grazes his chest.

He lifts your chin so you are looking straight up at him "You're mine, you know that right?" "Yes," you say softly. "We're going home," "But what about the tactical plan f-"

"You can finish it at home after I edge you for an hour," "Damn it," "Should've thought about that before you let him touch you,"

**

An unknown number has been calling you the past few days. Ruben always warned you about answering calls from unknown numbers.

Since you were a part of his business now, that put a target on your back. You had to be vigilant and careful with your words. You never know how is watching or listening.

The same number called you for the fifth time today and you slam on the answer button. "Hello?" You answer. "Hey, sweetheart," Dean deep, velvety voice says. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"You're in danger, Y/N. We're coming to get you," "First of all, I'm Nuben's girlfriend. I'm always in danger. Second of all, no you're not because they have a shoot to kill order on you."

"I don't care, Y/N. Lucifer is after you and we're not sure why," "Lucifer does not exist outside of the bible. "You're wrong about that, sweetheart." "Stop calling me sweetheart," "You have to believe us, Y/N. You're life is at stake here. If Lucifer finds you, you and your little boyfriend is a good as dead."

His words echo in your head and your mind started to disassociate. Series of images flood your brain and there was a sharp pain in your head.

You hiss and drop the phone on the floor as you hold the sides of your head. Voices of different people you've never hurt before echoed in your head and images of a man with dirty blonde hair and stained t-shirt and jeans.

His eyes glowed a crimson red and with the snap of his fingers, he could make a person's neck snap of their entire bodies explode. Then some images of you and Dean came into mind.

You were laying next to each other talking about something and he kisses you. Then the images were gone and you looked around frantically. "What the hell was that?" You say to yourself.

[kyber-kisses]

Going Under

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, spn level gore, drowning

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Square filled: Drowning

Summary: When the reader and Dean are captured by a nest of vamps, things take a slight turn when the readers life is suddenly put in mortal danger. Will Dean be able to save her in time?

“I can’t believe you.”

“Are you seriously going to bring that up right now?” You hissed, eyes blazing as you leaned forward to look at Dean.

“You’re damn right I am!”

“Dean, look around you. Now is really not the time.” You tried to gesture to the room around you but ultimately failed due to your zip tied hands.

So. . . Things may or may not have gone terribly wrong while you, Sam, and Dean were working a case. The three of you had been expecting a few vamps but somehow it had quickly turned into a full nest. One thing led to another, you and Dean were captured and Sam was yet to be found.

“Oh it never is, is it?” He grumbled, his eyes focused on his own restraints as he tried to figure out how to get out. He couldn’t have been more than four feet in front of you, the two of you facing each other. But it wasn’t the person in front of you that had you worried- it was what lay directly behind you.

The two of you were being held in the natatorium of the high school all the victims had attended, the air humid and filled with the strong scent of chlorine. The only lights that were still on were the ones embedded in the walls of the pool, the reflection of the water dancing turquoise on the tiled walls and ceiling. Your captors had yet to come back, the only sound being the lap of water hitting the edges of the pool.

Unlike Dean, you had your back facing the water. The back legs of your chair resting on the lip of the pool. Apart from your hands being bound together with zip ties you also had to worry about your ankles. Thick rope dug into your skin, binding them together. The other end of the rope had been looped through one of the holes in a cinder block, the piece of concrete partially sticking out over the ledge of the pool. All it would take was one small nudge to send you sinking.

Needless to say; this was not an ideal situation to be in. . . And to top it all off, Dean was still mad at you for the so called “hiccup” on the previous hunt.

“I told you, I’m not gonna apologize!” You snapped, leaning forward once more in your chair.

“Well you should! What you did was reckless and stupid!”

“I was saving your fucking life! You could be a little grateful every once and awhile!”

For a split second you expected steam to come out of Dean ears, his jaw clenching as he glared at you. “You jumped into the line of fire!”

“Yeah, to save your ungrateful ass! If I hadn’t done something you would be dead!”

Dean opened his mouth once more to respond, but was stopped short when the doors leading out into the hallway banged open, revealing what had to be the biggest vampire you had ever seen. It was like looking at a six and a half foot tall pillar of solid muscle.

“Well what do we have here?” He grinned, stalking across the concrete floor and towards you and Dean. “A Winchester tied up all pretty for me? It must be my lucky day.”

“And you must be the big ugly vamp I’m about to kill.” Dean fired back, twisting his hands in his bindings. His words getting a loud chuckle from the vamp, but once his amused expression fell he was driving his fist into the side of Deans face, his head being whipped around by the force.You wriggled in your seat, the instinct to kill growing tenfold.

“Hey big guy, hands off him!” You tried to leap up but didn’t get very far with your ankles and wrists bound, the failed action making you drop back into the seat. You could see Dean giving you one of his warning gazes, silently telling you to back off.

The vampire turned, his back now facing Dean as he took a step forward. “And who’s this?” He grinned, grabbing your chin forcefully with a calloused hand.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

The vampire paused, looking back over his shoulder at the struggling Winchester. “Is she yours?”

“I ain’t nobody’s, you big ass freak.” You spat, taking your opening when he turned back to you,and slamming your head into his full force. He stumbled back with a string of curses, hand leaving your chin to slap over the point of contact.

“Why you little-“

“Bitch? I know. Very original.” You deadpanned.

Lowering his hand from his head, the vampire set his gaze on your before bringing hit hand back and connecting it with your cheek in a harsh slap that echoed across the pool. Head knocked back by the sudden force, you stretched your jaw. You gave yourself a moment before looking back up at him, a bloody grin on your face.

“I know pillows that hit harder than you do.”

He raised his fist again.

“I said don’t fucking touch her!” Dean growled, the plastic chair he was bound to creaking loudly as he tried to free himself.

Where was Sam? Sam needed to find them and quick before this dude did anything to permanently harm either of you.

The vamp smiled, clearly getting a kick out of seeing a Winchester squirm in his seat. “This is mildly entertaining to watch.”

“Fuck you.” You snapped, leaning forward once again. All you wanted to do was keep this guy away from Dean.

“Alright, and that’s enough from you.”

What happened next was so quick neither of you had time to properly process what he was doing. The vamp stepped forward and nudged the cinder block with the toe of his boot. The block disappeared over the edge of the formerly still pool with a loud splash and you were pulled back with it. Deans eyes widened in pure terror as you let out the beginnings of a yell before being swallowed by the water as well. It was as if gasoline was poured onto the spark of fear in his belly. One moment he was frozen in shock and the next he was struggling harder than ever before against his bindings, eyes flicking back to the number on the edge of the pool saying his deep it was.

8 feet.

There’s no way your gonna be able to fight yourself to the surface with your ankles bound to that block.

“You son of a bitch- I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Dean hissed. The adrenaline pumping through him was at an all time high. A sudden idea tumbled into his skull and Dean was suddenly planting his feet on the floor and pushing himself back with all the energy he could muster. The plastic chair careened backwards, and between his weight and the concrete flooring, the flimsy piece of furniture broke, pieces of plastic shrapnel flying out across the floor.

Meanwhile, you were struggling. A lot. Your head was pounding, every cell screaming for oxygen as you struggled at the bottom of the pool, your hair rising upwards like seaweed as you tried to break the zip ties, your body arching in your struggle. You tilted your head in the direction of the cinder block, the one thing keeping you from the oxygen your body so desperately needed. It felt like every inch of you was throbbing, your lungs on fire.

When was the last time you were this scared for your own life? You couldn’t remember.

Blackness slowly began to seep into the corners of your vision after a solid thirty seconds of struggling. You needed to breath. You needed to take a breath. And even though you try and fight it, you suddenly inhale whether it’s air or heavily chlorinated water. Just like that a cold flow of water is thrust up your nostrils, a stream cascading into the back of your throat and nose, sending jets of pain through your body. The steady hum of the water in your ears slowly begins to fade into something softer, gradually muting into silence, one with the darkness. You give up on the fighting and thrashing, allowing the water to hold you in a suspended position beneath the surface as everything goes black, your body giving one last spasm before shutting down. . .

Dean rolled to his feet quickly as the vamp lunged at him, using the plastic handles of his chair to somewhat defend himself as the monster attacked. He blocked the first few blows before he lost the upper hand, the vamp bowling him over and sending him sliding across the floor.

“I would just give up. She’s probably gone by now.”

Dean ignored him, crawling to his feet again before slamming into him. Once again, he only got a few punches in before he was pinned beneath the massive body. Solid hands wound around Deans throat, beginning to squeeze. It only lasted a second though before Dean hears the distinct whistle of a blade moving through the air, and the vamps head is suddenly freed from his shoulders, revealing a very bloody Sam behind him.

The younger Winchester let the machete drop from his hands as he pulls the corpse off of Dean, chest heaving. “Where the hell is Y/N?”

Y/N.

Dean is up and on his feet in seconds, rushing across the concrete floor as he quickly shrugged off his jacket before diving into the lit up water of the massive pool. It’s not hard to find you, but the chlorine burns his eyes as he dives to the bottom. The rope keeping you tethered to the cement block is thick, and Dean is thankful for the blade he keeps stashed in the side of his boot.

He works fast, his adrenaline still pumping as he saws through the rope. His lungs have never burned like this before and everything in him is telling him to go to the surface for more air. . . But he doesn’t. After what feels like an eternity the rope finally snaps and Dean wishes he could let out a sigh of relief. Wrapping his arms around your torso he searches for his last bit of strength and kicks upward.

“Dean!”

That’s the first thing he hears when he breaks the surface, taking in lungfuls of air as he tries to tread water. You are dead weight in his arms, and its difficult to keep the both of you above the waterline. Through the water in his vision, he can just barely make out Sam, his brother on his knees at the edge of the pool.

“Sam- help-“

Dean somehow managed to get close enough to the lip of the pool that before he knows it, Sam has his hands underneath your armpits and is hauling you out of what almost feels like a grave. Dean sucked in a breath before bracing his hands on the edge and pushing himself out of the water. Its only when hes on his knees next to Sam that he almost freezes at the sight of you.

Almost.

You look like a rag doll, your body limp and lips a light shade of blue. Fear runs rabid through his body still and just like that he is back in action.

“Sam, cut the bindings on her hands.” Dean spoke quickly as he pressed his ear to your chest.

Heartbeat. He needed a heartbeat.

After a moment he pulled back again, rolling up his sleeves as he started the compressions on your chest.

“You are not allowed to die on me, you hear? And definitely not like this.” Dean huffed. A small part of him was afraid that he might break your ribs with the amount of pressure he was using, but the desperation to see you breath took over and he ignored it.

“Dammit Y/N-“

Tilting your head back slightly, Dean lifted your chin and pinched your nose shut before placing his mouth over yours to create a seal. He gave you two breaths before pulling back and continuing the compressions.

His eyes stayed glued to your face, hoping beyond anything he would see a sign that you were still with them.

Nothing.

And then his mouth was back on yours as he tried desperately to breathe life back into you. “C’mon sweetheart. I got some things to say to you and I can’t do that if your dead.” He pulled back, hands going back to your chest.

Sam let his brother continue the cycle two more times before he was clamping a hand over Deans shoulder.

“Dean-“

The hunter swatted him away, continuing the compressions. “She’s not dead. She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s staying that way!” He panted,ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes as he leaned back down to give you another set of rescue breaths.

Apparently he was right because barely a second after he pulled away, you coughed. . . Or more like slightly gargled. A spray of water leaving your lips as you choked.

“There we go!”

Dean let out a sigh of relief as his shoulders dropped, the hunter helping to roll you to the side as you emptied an unhealthy amount of water from your lungs. His hand rubbing your back softly. Filled with relief he let out a light chuckle, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Unfortunately your body was still too weak to keep you conscious and once the water was out of your system you were slumping back onto the wet floor, your head coming to rest on Deans thigh.

“Y/N?”

“She’s out. But we need to get out of here Dean, I took down a bunch of them but I don’t know how many vamps are still here.” Sam sighed.

There was silence, Dean too focused on the unconscious Y/N in his arms to hear his brother properly.

“Dean!”

Snapping out of his state, Dean looked up- your head resting on the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. Hand me one of those towels.” He pointed behind Sam towards the rack, several towels rolled neatly and stuffed into it.

Sam popped up into his feet, quickly retrieving one before handing it over to his brother- who wrapped in snugly around you and then hoisted you into his arms.

“I got ya. I got ya.” Dean breathed, cheek coming to rest on your wet hairline. “We’re gonna get you back to the motel, and your gonna rest up and everything’s gonna be fine.”

He couldn’t tell if he was saying those words to comfort himself or you. Maybe it was both. Both would be preferred.

With Sam taking the lead, the two of them navigated the empty halls of the high school wanting nothing more than to leave it all behind.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

When you first eased into consciousness the first thing your body registered was that you were breathing. And this time it was actual air and not water. The second thing you noticed was that your body felt like lead, even your eyelids were struggling to open. Your fingers wiggled against the soft sheets as you slowly attempted to opened your eyes, the morning light trickling through the blinds of the motel room to illuminate the space.

You tried shifting your position, your body stiff as you let out a groan. Your sudden movement and noise gaining the attention of the other people in the room.

“Y/N?” Suddenly setting down his glass at the small table, he turned towards you, clearly surprised to see you awake. “Hey, how you feelin?” He spoke softly, sitting down besides you on the bed before reaching for your hand.

“What- what happened?”

Bracing your hands on the mattress as you tried and sit up. Dean was besides you in an instant, sticking a pillow behind you before helping you up to lean against the headboard. Why was Dean suddenly being nice to you? Last time you checked he was mad at you.

“You almost died, that’s what happened.” Dean scolded, sinking back down onto the side of the bed.

“Dean-“ Sam began, quickly being cut off by you.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean; almost died?”

“I mean, you almost drowned to death in a pool.”

Dean watched your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Drown? That didn’t make any sense. You knew how to swim. How the fuck could you possible drown?

“What were we doing at a pool?”

“What were we-“ Dean choked on the words, unable to believe you just asked that. “Y/N we were hunting a vamp nest.”

That’s all he had to say before it slowly came back to you. Bits and pieces falling into place. Some parts were still blank, but you remembered a good portion. Dean and you being caught. That big ass vampire. . . Something having to do with a cinder block?

“Wait Y/N, what all do you remember?” Sam spoke suddenly, worry crossing his features.

“Everything up until getting caught. . . And maybe a little more. But I don’t understand the drowning bit.”

Turning his attention from you to his brother, Dean looked at Sam with wide eyes. “Why doesn’t she remember?”

“I mean in some cases of drowning if there’s a lot of water in the system and depending on how long she was under. . . There might be some brain damage.”

“I’m sorry, brain damage?” You and Dean spoke in unison. You sat up a little straighter, suddenly worried.

“I don’t think it’s too serious, but I can call Cas. See if he can’t stop by to check on you.” Already pulling out his phone, Sam left the room leaving you and Dean to sit in silence. It felt like you sat like that forever before anything was actually said.

“Do you have any idea what I’d have to go through if you’d died last night?”Dean spoke suddenly, looking across the bed towards you.

“What?”

“Years of guilt. Crippling, self loathing guilt.” He continued, eyes darting down to look at his hands. “I know what you were trying to do last night. Antagonizing that vamp to keep him away from me. Putting yourself in harms way like you always do.”

Oh. Oh. That’s what this was about. You may not remember last night clearly, but that didn’t mean you didn’t remember the times before. It was what Dean had been angry about before as well.

“Dean-“

“You’re not supposed to die for me, Y/N.” He added. “And neither is my brother. But no matter what I say, or how hard I try to drill it into your skulls, you’re not gonna stop trying.”

“You’re right. I’m not going to stop trying. I love you too much to.” The second it left your lips, you were slamming a hand over your mouth.

Okay so maybe you did have brain damage. There’s no way a sane person would just let it slip they love someone. Nuh-uh. No way.

You watched Dean with wide eyes, trying to judge his expression. His own eyes widening for a moment before a soft and knowing smile fell across his features and he was reaching across to pull your hand away from your mouth. You didn’t realize until that moment how close he really was.

Dean gently leaned in, giving you more than enough time to pull back. . . But you didn't. His lips eventually pressing against yours softly. And no, it wasn't some sort of powerful, passionate kiss. It was a gentle and close-mouthed kiss like you do when you’re in eighth grade and you’ve never held hands before with a boy. It’s almost as if he’s testing the waters, seeing if you really want this. You do. More than anything.

“You know, I’m falling for you so much that it’s freaking me the hell out.” He paused. “That’s why I got mad. I don’t want you getting hurt, especially for me. Now I know that’s no excuse for me being a dick, i just- don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I lost you last night-”

“I wont. . .wait, You're falling for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you hated me?”

“I could never hate you.”

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