#destiel au ficlet

[rowanspn]

Chapter 29 of The Covert Identity.....now on AO3.............

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 17: Wings

The woods were quiet around the small hunting cabin. Dean knew he should alert the encampment that he had found Cas, that he had strayed from his route, that someone else needed to check the perimeter. He knew all those things, but still he laid on the bed where he had dragged Cas hours before, pillowing his head on his chest, and counting every breath that he huffed out in sleep.

Cas was still pallid, the circles under his eyes purpled and sunken. He looked like he hadn't eaten properly in weeks, and bruises and cuts littered his pale skin. Dean couldn't find it in himself to make him move.

He raised the hand that had been secure around Cas's waist to graze, light as a feather, across the spots where his wings had once sprouted. The bandages there were dry, a good indicator that the bleeding had stopped. His stomach rolled with the knowledge of what the angels had done to Cas, what they had taken from him.

On his patrol, from the air above the cabin, he'd seen the dark trail of blood to the front door. He'd expected a wounded animal or a dead body. Instead, he'd found Cas, wingless, barely conscious, in a pool of his own blood. When Cas had turned at the door opening, he'd tipped listlessly, though whether that was because of the blood loss or the strange balancing act he had to pull without his wings, Dean wasn't sure.

His heart tripped into a painful, euphoric rhythm at the memory of Cas's wild eyes going soft and filling with tears. The way his frighteningly pale lips formed Dean's name, the way his gaunt arms with garish trails of blood reached for Dean, the way he clung to Dean as the jagged gouges between his shoulder blades were cleaned and bandaged.

The air was still tinged with the metallic tang of blood and searing cleanliness of antiseptic. There were bloodstains on the floor from where Cas had huddled, prepared to bleed out alone. There'd be time to scrub the spots away. Hell, there'd be time to rip the whole floor up and replace it.

Dean's mechanical wings hung on a hook by the door. He wondered if Cas would ever want a set for himself. Maybe one day, he'd be able to ask.

[doctorprofessorsong]

Once again living in the Portal Destiel AU that inhabits a corner of my mind.

A man wakes up in a sterile room

He thinks he's named Dean. He has only a fuzzy memory of screaming: "Sammy, whatever you do when that robot bastard asks, you say no. We say no. No matter how long it takes? Got it?"

A gravelly voice says "Hello, Dean." It's CAS-T1-3L. Dean immediately shortens it to Cas

Dean gets put through the Portal stops. He loves the portal gun even if its probably giving him 15 types of cancer

Cas is full GLADOS chirping about science.

"Cas, buy a guy dinner first." "Dean, your Aperture brand nutritional and hydration supplement is not due for three hours."

He promises Dean pie at the end because "Aperture Science has discovered that subjects respond better to a combination of positive reinforcement and negative stimulation. He won't tell Dean what type of pie it is though because that would spoil the fun"

Dean begins noticing imperfections in the testing rooms. Cas seems incapable of perceiving them

When Cas goes offline for daily maintenance Dean begins exploring. He finds hints of subjects who came before. Over and over there are notes to say no (and the pie is a lie)

Dean begins pushing Cas' limits and notices something is up with the bot. It's almost like he cares. He finds himself talking to Cas, telling him about his favorite movies and stories

One day Dean gets angry at the constant tests, gets tired of the grind. Begs Cas to tell him what the fuck is happening. Cas tells him he can’t help him. "Science requires controlling all variables, Dean." But the camera tilts a bit, almost like a head movement and behind him, there's a click. A panel opens into a room where he finds...

Hundreds of dead Deans filling a warehouse. Cas appears in a vessel, a former test subject called Jimmy. He explains that he has had to watch Dean die over and over, transferring his consciousness to a new vessel each time.

M1KA-31 is trying to escape into the world but Chuck Johnson built in a failsafe before he disappeared

Only human run vessels may leave the facility. M1KA-31 has been trying to get Dean to smuggle it out for years.

Dean’s brother is trapped in a sister site run by LUC-1.

Cas promised to help Dean escape, because he loves him and he doesn't want to watch this anymore.

Also there is no pie

Dean finds a way to smuggle Cas out with him in his vessel. They also take the Jolly Aperture Companion Cube (J-A-C-C).

Their plan is to save Sammy and the world.

It ends with NA-0-M1 assuring M1KA-31 this is just a minor setback. Redundancy is critical in these matters.

M1KA-31 will oversee the new experiment personally.

A man opens his eyes in a white sterile room.

A voice says "Hello Adam."

[pssy-wagn]

Day 26: Android/Cyborg

“...and that’s why you’re just better off without them. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Dean.”

Crossing his arms, he looks at Cas in the eyes from across the kitchen table, “Then what’d I say?”

“You went on and on about why this phone is better than that phone. For the umpteenth time.”

Looking at the bill in front of him, he points to the upgrade that Castiel can now have, “You have an upgrade, Cas. You can pick any phone you want. Why in the hell will you stick with an Apple phone? You’ve got your pick from Android, my personal favorite, Google Pixel-”

“It’s just a phone, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean stares kind of disheartened at his portion of the bill, “I still have about three months with mine.”

“And you want to trade it in so bad already. The only thing wrong with yours is the screen.”

“Protector. Screen protector. But I wanna get a new one too,” Dean whines.

“I don’t even want an upgrade. There’s nothing wrong with my phone.”

“No. Except it’s starting to drop calls, your pictures are blurry when you send shit to me, your Messenger sucks hardcore-”

“I thought it was just a software update I needed.”

“That’s Apple products for ya. They don’t give a shit. They’re just like that N’Sync song, buy, buy, buy but with a U, not like, goodbye. Anyways, that’s how they getcha.”

Looking at his phone, Cas makes a quick phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Gabriel.”

“Hi, Cassie!”

Sighing, he ignores his dreaded nickname from his older brother, “Gabriel, you have an Android phone, right?”

“Talking to you on it right now. Why?”

“Time for an upgrade-”

“Oh, sweet. Yeah. There’s a reason why I ditched my iPhone. It was-”

Cas is listening to hear what’s next in his sentence but when he looks at his screen, it’s on his wallpaper of him and Dean kissing with fireworks going on in the background. Dean looks at him from his plate of eggs and bacon, “Did he hang up?”

“I think.”

Nodding, Dean tears a piece of bacon, “Or did it drop the call? Again.”

Sighing, Cas searches for Gabriel’s number in his cell. Before he even has time to hit Call, Gabriel is calling him.

“Gabriel?”

“Why did you hang up on me? I was talking for a good two minutes until I realized I was talking to nobody!”

“His phone sucks!” Dean hollers from the back as he retrieves his second mug of coffee, “Talk some sense into your brother!”

“Dean, quiet. I’m on the phone.”

“Not for long”, Dean mutters under his breath.

Cas throws him a frown, “I will spit in your coffee, Dean.”

“Oh, please. You say that so much, it’s lost all threat.”

Shaking his head, he goes back to his phone only to be shown his wallpaper again. Exhaling hard, he looks at Dean who has a smug smile on his face.

“Dropped again, huh?” Dean fishes out his phone from his hotdog pants, “Wanna use mine? I bet you can stay on the phone with Gabe’s little ass longer.”

Squinting his eyes at his husband, Cas grabs the phone from his outstretched hand, “I hate you so much right now.”

“Lost meaning too,” Dean laughs as he shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

When Cas goes into the next room to make his phone call, Dean takes Cas’ phone to try to make a call.

Calling Sam, he puts his phone to his ear.

“Hey, Cas. What did Dean do this time?”

“The fuck? That’s the reason he calls you all the time?”

“Oh. Hahaha, uh, hi Dean.”

“Uh-huh. He doesn’t call just to say hi and shit?”

“He does. About two days ago we were talking about fish tacos.”

“Fish tacos?”

“Yeah. If made just right, they are pretty good but nothing compare-”

“Compared to what? Beef? Steak? Hello? Sam?”

Looking at the screen, he knows the call dropped. Laughing out loud, “Cas! Your phone sucks more dick than you!”

When he comes back into the kitchen, he slides Dean’s phone to him.

“So what did you and your brother talk about? He agrees with me, huh? It’s time to switch, Babe.”

Dean slides him his phone back. Cas looks at it, sadly, “I’m sorry, ol’ gal. I think it’s time to let you go.”

“Get the new Samsung one, Cas. That one looks awesome.”

“I’m saying goodbye, Dean!”

Putting his hands up in surrender, Dean simply rolls his eyes, “I’m gonna go get dressed. We could hit up the AT&T store before we gotta go grocery shop.”

“Fine.”

When they get to the store, Sam calls Dean. As soon as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, he drops it just outside the store; having it smash onto the sidewalk curb grill and down its drain. Both Dean and Cas look at each other, mouths agape.

“What the fuck?! My phone!”

Going on his hands and knees, Dean tries to fish it out but his arms are too big. Leaving him, Cas goes inside the store. Coming back out, a woman shines her phone’s flashlight into the drain, “Let me help you, sir.”

“Thanks.”

When she pulls it out, the phone is completely cracked. Dean tries to turn it on but hears the water sloshing around inside.

“Good thing you’re at an AT&T store, right?” The woman nervously chuckles.

“I guess.”

Walking inside, he sees Cas eyeing the display phones, “Cas? I’m getting a new one too.”

“Perfect. I’ll get the newest Apple, my husband wants the newest Android.”

“What? We’ve been over this, Cas!”

[wormstacheangel]

"I'll be right back with your order."

Castiel smiled politely before looking outside the window. The rain continued to pour and the diner filled up with strangers stopping by for a comforting meal.

He watched as puddles started to form on the broken concrete street and listened to people running into the restaurant commenting on the weather. Shaking the excess rain off them as the waitress tells them to take any open table.

He found this mundane human experience so wonderful. Maybe it's just another day for them but Castiel will remember each word. He will remember the burnt coffee smell that mixed in with the rowdy laughter. He will remember the Beach Boys playing in the background and a father begging their teenagers to put the phone down to eat.

He would especially remember this day because he makes it a habit to remember every day he spends with Dean.

"Did you order yet?" Dean sunk into the seat across from him and smiled. It shined so bright that Castiel can feel his heart race at the sight. He was only away for less than five minutes but Cas missed him so much.

"Yes. I got you your favorite heart attack special with a waffle instead of pancakes."

"Oh! Good call, dude. I've been craving waffles since-"

"You saw the billboard. I know. You won't stop talking about it." Cas teased and it made Dean chuckle.

The waitress came over and filled their mugs with coffee and dropped the flavored creamer in front of them. "Extra caramel for the gentlemen. Your food will be out in a sec."

"Thanks." "Thank you."

The waitress leaves them again and Dean lets his legs tangled up with Cas'. "What did you get yourself?"

"Pancakes."

"Chocolate or blueberry?" Dean started to open creamers and mix them into Cas' coffee. Stirring in sugar right after because he knows he likes it sweet.

"Blueberry." Cas watches Dean's hands as they stir and then lifts the spoon to his mouth before he mixes his own coffee.

"Course. Remember to turn down the mojo before you eat this time."

Cas nodded once, humming an agreement, as he reached to take a sip of his coffee. The sweet sugar coated his tongue and he smiled. "Perfect once again."

"Yeah? Taste like a bowl of sugar?"

"And caramel."

"That's just burnt sugar, sweetheart." Dean took a sip of his coffee—he only adds two creamers—and let out a loud sigh."Now that's some good coffee."

"I'm sure."

Castiel felt his shoulders relax as he enjoyed the view in front of him. Watched as the waitress sets their breakfast down and Dean raised his finger to "pretty please" himself some hot sauce. He let Dean cut his pancakes before he pushed the plate back towards Cas. Loving how wide Dean's eyes got when Dean was surprised by the extra slices of bacon Castiel ordered.

But he especially loved when Dean asked, "Can my husband get a glass of OJ? Thank you."

He will never get used to that.

"I don't want orange juice." Castiel tells his husband as he takes another bite of bacon.

"It's for me but I already got coffee and chocolate milk so I don't want to push it. And stop eating all the bacon."

When breakfast is over they pay and Dean hides under Cas's coat as they run through the rain. Dean’s arms wrap around Cas’s waist and he ducks his head into Cas’s chest. Every second felt like a wonderful eternity.

"Cas! You got the keys, man!"

"Oh." Castiel took the keys from his trench coat pocket and opens the passenger side for his husband.

"Such a gentleman." Dean teases but before Castiel can roll his eyes and walk away, Dean pulls him in for a kiss. Soft and lingering as the rainwater pours over them. "Been wanting to do that all morning."

Dean winks at him before sliding into the car and closing the door behind him. It takes less than a second for Cas to restart himself and jog over to the driver's side.

"You okay, Cas?"

The rain was now a sprinkle and rainbows appeared over greased stained puddles. The world never looked so beautiful.

"Never better."

He took his husband's hand and drove them off to their next adventure.

[zacharyleigh316]

A Friend to Bee

Suptober Prompt: Day 7 - Black Cat | A Friend to Bee | 2.8K | Teen and Up | Read on Ao3 (or below cut)

Dean befriends a neighborhood cat, and, against all odds, it might just bring luck his way...

“Achoo!”

As if on cue, the second Dean stepped over the threshold to his home, he sneezed, groaning at the way his eyes watered as a result. He quickly hung up his coat on the rack, and tossed his keys in the dish on the stand by the door, before fleeing into the kitchen, only to sneeze again. It was only a matter of time, Dean surmised, before his eyes burned, and he’d need to stubbornly fight the urge to rub them, as was his daily routine as of late—that, and popping allergy pills like candy. Pills of which he was currently out of, and thus doomed to suffer, slowly succumbing to his allergies.

Dean took his phone out and shot his brother a text, before setting out to put some leftover chicken and rice in a bowl. And, summoned by the prospect of food, the source of all of Dean’s current health problems—and well-being—jumped up onto the counter, signaled by another sneeze.

“You’re lucky you’re so friggin cute.” He muttered, putting the bowl down in front of the fur ball that could, quite possibly, be the death of him—if he couldn’t somehow find a way to manage his cat allergy.

It hadn’t been that long since they first encountered each other, Dean and his hairy, four-legged visitor—be it a miraculous act of fate or what have you—but it sure felt like forever, seeing as Dean hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Two weeks ago, on Dean’s way back home, he encountered the most unusual pair of blue eyes, that, upon further inspection, belonged to an even more unusually mannered black cat, perched perfectly poised atop the front steps to his home. He recalled how the eyes seemed to glow then, a trick of the lights Dean’s sure, but they drew him in nevertheless. Since then the cat has, beyond any feasible reason Dean could see, stuck around. Enough so that yes, he’s even begun to feed and water the damn thing—despite said allergy.

The little rascal didn’t seem too pressed to leave any time soon, and you could say that he even, perhaps, got used to having it around—not that he’d tell anyone that. He wasn’t sure who exactly owned his new friend, just that it had to be someone in the neighborhood, but sincerely hoped they wouldn’t mind how often he spoiled the guy’s pet.

Dean’s phone buzzed from where he left it on the countertop, and pulled himself from his reverie, reading the reply from his brother. 

<< hey sammy, were you able to pick me up some more of those allergy meds?

>> Yeah, they should be in the bathroom.

And then, a few seconds later, came another.

>> You know, you never told me why you needed them?

<< nunya

>> What?

<< sorry, let me rephrase that

<< nunya business

<< Wow, really mature Dean. I didn’t have to get them for you, but it sounded urgent, so I did.

<< The least you could do is tell me why. Or even how you ran out of the other bottle so quickly.

Dean sighed and looked over to the cat, who was now pinning him with its starling azure gaze, apparently finding him more interesting than finishing off the bowl of food.

“I dunno, what do you think? Should I tell Sam?” He asked, not really understanding why he thought the cat would answer, but directing the question toward it anyway.

Predictably, it just sat there and blinked at him.

Dean sighed again, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell his brother.

<< I maybe sorta got a cat?

>> You WHAT?!

>> Dean, you’re allergic to cats

<< uh yeah, Sammy, that’s why I needed the allergy meds duh

Dean let out a groan and pressed his forehead to the cool countertop, as his phone began to ring, Sam’s caller ID posted across the screen. He let it ring a few times before picking up.

“Heya brother-o-mine, shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on lunch break right now actually, Dean,” Sam whispered harshly into the receiver, straight to business as always, “what’s this about you getting a cat?”

“Well, it’s not technically mine. It just showed up one day, and won’t leave.”

“And you didn’t think to call authorities?”

“Authorities?” Dean snorted. “What am I going to do, Sam, get it arrested?” 

Dean could hear the eye roll through the phone. “I mean animal control, Dean. Or maybe even a vet?”

“Course I thought about doing that…”

“You can’t just steal a cat, it could belong to somebody. It could have a microchip or something. Maybe its owner is looking for it.” Sam sighed, and now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not stupid, okay? ‘Sides, I didn’t steal it. It just showed up, and never left. I mean, the little guy comes and goes, but it always comes back and ends up staying for a few hours, before disappearing again.” He shrugged, despite his brother being unable to see it.

As if knowing it was being talked about, it padded over to Dean, and head butted the palm of his hand. Dean smiled, and ran his hand down the creature’s back, before letting out another sneeze.

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real healthy arrangement you’ve got there, Dean. Why do you even let it inside?” 

“That’s the strange thing, Sammy. I didn’t. It showed up on my doorstep, but I just let it be, and went inside. Don’t ask me how, but the damn thing is smart or something, and lets itself in. And out.”

“Uh-huh…” Sam trailed off, sounding skeptical.

Dean wouldn’t believe it either if he hadn’t witnessed it time and time again.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds crazy, but the cat is a friggin weirdo. I’ve tried to keep it out, but it always finds a way. Hence why now I just…let it do its thing.”

“Okay, well, even if what you’re saying is true, Dean, this isn’t sustainable. You need to find its owner, and tell them about their cat.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now I’m serious, Dean. You can’t just keep going through allergy meds just because the cat likes to loiter.”

“Sure thing, whatever you say, mom. Don’t get your panties all in a twist, Samantha. I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean it, Dean.”

“And I promise, I’ll take care of it. Now get back to work, slacker. Don’t spend all of your lunch break talking to your big brother.” 

“Alright. Talk to you later. Love you, jerk.”

“You too. Love you, bitch.”

They hung up, and Dean put his phone back down onto the counter, turning his attention back toward the adorable, furry interloper, who was still staring unblinkingly at him.

“That was my baby brother, Sammy. He’s this big shot lawyer, and, don’t tell him this, but I’m a pretty proud big brother.” 

The cat meowed and tilted its head to the side, earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

“Can’t have his head grow bigger than it already is, y’know? Don’t know what’s in the water these days, but the kid’s huge, and I mean humongous.” He joked, shaking his head fondly.

“Anyway, Sam’s right. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but you should probably get back to your owner, yeah? Got one of those, don’t you?”

Again the cat meowed, but Dean was, unfortunately, sorely lacking in the knowledge department for ‘how to translate cat language’. He watched as it went back to finish the food he’d set out, and chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly. 

“Yeah, I’d be bored of me too.” 

Letting the cat go about its business Dean pulled away from the kitchen island and sauntered into the bathroom. He figured that, in the meantime—or at least until he located the cat’s owner—it’d be wise to take some meds while it was here. Dean was rather fond of breathing, thank you very much. And the, however temporary, relief of itchiness was an additional perk. 

It was some time later that afternoon, Dean sat on the couch with the fur ball curled in his lap, when his phone buzzed with a text message. He leaned over to put his half finished beer down on the coffee table, and exchanged it for the phone, reading the text from Sam.

>> Have you tried following the cat when it leaves? Maybe you can do that.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, and looked down at the cat. He hadn’t tried that, no, but it wasn’t a bad idea actually. He’d have to try that next, though, if anybody in the neighborhood caught him following some dude’s cat to said dude’s house, he didn’t want to know what they would think of him. He’d rather sooner admit to being an avid fan of chick flicks than deal with the repercussions of being labeled a friggin creepy weirdo.

“What do you say to me taking you home this time?” He asked, raising a brow at the little shit still snoozing in his lap, who had the audacity to peel open one of its eyes, before opening the other and leveling Dean with a look that was oddly reminiscent of one of Sam’s bitch faces. 

Dean opened his mouth, a smart ass remark on the tip of his tongue, when the cat leaped off his lap and quietly padded over to the door, in lieu of responding, or well, as it’s response since it was an animal, and it couldn’t actually talk back—unless you counted the, albeit perfectly timed, meows it gave Dean sometimes.

With a groan, as his thirty-something almost forty-something body protested, he hefted himself off the couch and, against his better judgment, he followed the damn thing out his front door.

Thankfully his four legged guide was waiting for him, and even stopped every so often on the way to wherever the fuck, looking back to check if Dean was still behind, following. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, and that it was actually working. It certainly didn’t ease his anxiety, especially since he was completely in the dark as to where he was even being lead—to his death maybe—but of all panned out, maybe he’d bake his brother a pie or some shit. He’d see how he felt about it later.

Though Dean didn’t have to wait long to find out what his imminent death looked like, because after a ten minute or so walk down the street, the cat made its way up some steps to a rather unassuming house, much like his own—and everyone else’s in the neighborhood. This one was painted a pretty blue, nothing like the eyes of his new friend, but a softer, grayer shade.

On the door, as Dean approached, hung a gorgeous, decorative autumn wreath, with the words “Blessed Bee”—no that was not a typo, and to which Dean assumed was a pun referring to the little plastic bees dispersed within. Though, with an additional quick, cursory glance towards the house, the owner’s aesthetic was growing increasingly apparent, if not for the garden beds of flowers attached to each window sill, and the immaculately groomed bushes (hah) lining the front. 

Even the grass was a lively color, a rich, vibrant green, and neatly trimmed to boot. Dean couldn’t help the whispered, “Damn,” that slipped out in awe. This guy had some serious gardening chops, that Dean couldn’t help but be a little envious of. The only plant he could remember growing was a little succulent he nicked from the local supermarket for him and Sam when they were little, and he couldn’t tell you what became of it. 

The cat meowed, once again with the intention of pulling Dean from his reverie, and he, with a final resolve, reached up and knocked on the door. Though, nothing could have ever prepared him for what happened next.

The front door swung open, revealing possibly the hottest guy Dean has ever seen, looking all soft and—albeit artfully—rumpled, in a sweater and jeans, and holy fuck this dude’s eyes. If he thought the cat’s eye were an unusual shade of blue, they were nothing compared to this man’s, and if Dean didn’t say anything and just stood there frozen, gaping like a fish, being spotted and labeled as a creepy weirdo were the least of his worries.

“Uh…” he said, rather intelligently.

The man didn’t seem to mind, however, and just smiled, reaching down to pick up his cat, who was winding between his legs.

“You must be Bee’s new friend.”

Dean blinked, taking a moment to realize that, son of a bitch, the hot dude just spoke to him, and then another to realize that that is what he sounded like. Deep and gravelly, and god friggin’ dammit Dean was fucked. Truly and utterly fucked.

“Um…what?” 

Wow, nice going Dean, he mentally scolded himself.

As far as first impressions went, this was probably as worst as it could get. He’d spoken a total of three words to this strange (sexy) man, and they only seemed to feed the narrative of what a fool he was. He could flirt with women with the ease of driving his baby, no problem. But put a pretty guy, let alone a pretty guy with gorgeous blue eyes, in front of him and he was rendered speechless, dumber than a sack of potatoes, and probably as useful as one too. He was not good at this.

The man chuckled, and gestured to the cat in his arms, before giving who Dean knew now as Bee chin scritches. 

“My cat. She’s been telling me all about you.” 

“Oh, uh, all good things I hope?”

The man smiled again, and Dean felt his knees grow weak, like they could buckle at any moment, and he’d just melt into a puddle on this guy’s front steps.

“Hm, yes, I must thank you for taking good care of her. She likes it there very much.”

“Haha well, I’m glad? But, uh, about that…” Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. 

“I’m actually allergic to cats.” 

“Oh.” 

Dean inwardly cursed as the man frowned, and furrowed his brows in concern. He looked down at Bee then, and gave her a disapproving stare.

“You didn’t tell me that.” He shook his head, and put her down, ushering her into the house. “Go on, shoo. We’ll discuss this later.”

They both watched her disappear around the corner, before the man turned back to Dean, now looking apologetic.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were allergic. Had I known, I wouldn’t have encouraged Bee to visit so often.”

“Don’t worry about it man, I just, uh, thought you should know, I guess? But really, ‘s’no big deal. I actually enjoyed the company.”

The guy smiled softly, and hummed. “That’s good then. I’m glad. She enjoyed the company too.”

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel.” 

Dean nodded, feeling his cheeks heat the longer they stood there, just staring at one other. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cursed himself again for his eternal awkwardness. 

“R-right, well…” he trailed off, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“Maybe next time you could come over too? If you, um, if you want. Bee knows where it is.”

Castiel beamed, and damn, if that wasn’t easily on Dean’s ever increasing list of favorite things about him.

“I’d like that very much, Dean.”

“Yeah? Awesome.” Dean grinned back, and then even wider when Castiel ducked his head bashfully.

Dean liked him so much already, it was wild. Even more wild that a black cat was beginning to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.

“See ya later, Cas?”

“Yes. And I’ll try to whip up something to help those allergies, if you’d like?”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure why not?” He shrugged with an easy smile, and started to back away, his eyes never leaving Cas’.

“Don’t worry, it’s not of import.” Cas dismissed with a wave of his hand. 

“Until we meet again, Dean.”

“Bye Cas.”

They waved their goodbyes, and Dean finally turned around to make his way back, but only after he may—or may not—have stumbled, earning another, rather amused, chuckle from Cas from behind him.

Dean laughed awkwardly, brushing off his totally-not-a-stumble, you know, as a man does, and raised his hand in one more final parting gesture, before hurrying off back home to bake that pie.

[baconandpie1]

Who Said Eavesdropping Is Wrong?

Castiel is a good and honest man, and eavesdropping is beneath him. But he does it this once. Once is enough.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

destiel!steddie pt.3!!

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | NOW ON AO3!: you can hear the call (when trouble's on the way)

ok so it's been a while since i posted part two of this, but i guess today was the day i decided to go feral and not only finish this part but also include the first ever smut i've ever written.

destiel (and the fics i used to read of them) has been on the brain in a big way recently, friends. enjoy!!!

Eddie gapes at her, his mouth opening and closing on its own.

“What’d I miss, kiddos?” Wayne sinks into the previously abandoned chair at the end of the booth and picks up his (now cold) burger. “Eddie, shut your trap, you’re not a goldfish.”

“I called Robin, she’s on her way.”

Wayne hums in response around a mouthful of food “So where’s the man of the hour?”

“Where’dya think? Flapped away like a panicked pigeon.” Eddie gripes.

Wayne hums again “I didn’t know your angel knew how to feel panicked.”

His face grew hot “He’s not my angel, old man, shut up…”

“If anything, he’s Robin’s.” Nancy shrugs. “He’s basically her soulmate.”

“Ah, she’s his girl?” Wayne asks

“No, they are ‘platonic with a capital “P”.’ soulmates.” she emphasizes with mimed air-quotes. “The literal best of friends, inseparable and codependent almost to a fault.”

Eddie tunes out Nancy catching Wayne up on what he missed while he went to check on Fred, staring out the front window at the sparsely filled lot.

He can picture the upcoming events so clearly: this Robin character flies into the parking lot in some old beater, barges through the door, looking around frantically for Steve, only to find her friend casually eating fries with an old man and some random frizzy-haired guy. All three with a significant lack of Steve.

“Where the hell is he?” Wait, that was exactly what had happened, wasn’t it? “Nancy, you said you found Steve and yet I see no Steve.” The poor girl looks frantic.

He glances out the window again and sees a shiny retro BMW haphazardly parked out front. Okay, so not exactly a beater, but still.

“Robin, sit down, we’ll tell you everything.” Nancy’s voice is cool and soothing and yet;

“I don’t want to sit down, I want to know where Steve is.” Robin says, still irritated, as she sits down across from Eddie.

“Well??” She asks him incredulously.

“You better start talkin’ Ed.” Wayne gestures for him to get on with it with a particularly long french fry.

“Okay, well, I’m Eddie, this is Wayne, my uncle. We are hunters.”

“Hunters.” Robin repeats.

“Yeah, not that kind. We hunt supernatural creatures and about six months ago, I died.”

“Okay, this I hadn’t heard, I swear.” Nancy says to Robin, then turns her full attention back to Eddie.

“Somehow I don’t believe you died; also how in the hell is any of this relevant? I want to know where Steve is!”

“I’m getting there, I promise! I–okay, you know what? Fine. TL;DR is: I died, was brought back to life by something–like just fully yanked outta hell–and when we tried to summon whatever it was that did it, we first met Steve.”

Robin is silent for a moment. “Okay, despite how much I really want that whole story, that still doesn’t tell me where Steve is.”

“I don’t know where he–wait, you believe me? Just like that?”

Robin shrugs at him.

“Wait, and you too,” He points at Nancy “You believed me right away about the ghost. What the hell is happening here??”

The two women look at each other quickly then back at the two men. 

Nancy opens her mouth to reply, but is stopped when there was a fluttering sound near the diner entrance.

Eddie is facing away from the door so he turns to see Steve walk in, and has a fleeting thought about if the one waitress and cook still here past midnight are seeing all this too.

He expected Robin to be on her feet and running to the other man immediately, but she must see the angel and not the man, recognizing that it isn’t quite her Steve.

“Hello.” The angel states simply when he returns to their booth. “You must be Robin.”

Robin has tears flowing freely down her face now and it strikes Eddie straight to the heart.

“You are not Steve.”

“You would be correct, Ms. Robin, I am not. May I?” Steve gestures to the bench across from her, to the seat he’d vacated previously.

Robin says nothing, eyes wide, and tears falling over her trembling lip.

“Go ahead and sit Steve, where’d you go?”

“Thank you, Nancy, I left to retrieve your Steve.” The angel sits beside Eddie, who forgets to move when hit with that little nugget of information, and almost gets a lapful of angel before scooting over against the wall.

“You went to get Steve?” Nancy asks.

“Yes, I returned to my Father’s Kingdom and asked him to come with me to see you.”

“So….he can hear us?” Eddie asks.

“Yes, if it will be alright with you all, I will let him take over and speak with you. I will pay any conversation no mind, so please, speak with him as you would normally.”

Nancy nods, “Robin, would you like to talk with Steve?”

It seems like Robin still can’t quite form words, but nods her head furiously to her friend’s question while still glaring at the thing in front of her.

Steve gives a small nod and closes his eyes.

He takes in and releases a long breath, as he does, Eddie can spot the small twitches his eyes make beneath his lids and the slightly more pronounced breathing pattern that give away when angel becomes human.

Hazel eyes open, then immediately start blinking away tears. “Robin…” Steve breathes out like a sigh of relief.

A sharp, short, aggravated scream erupts from Robin, and her hands start flying.

“Whoa, what is happening right now? Is she freaking out? Is she okay?” “Yeah, she’s freaking out, and yes, she’s fine.” Nancy assures him, tracking Robin's movements with her eyes “She’s signing.” she nods and goes back to her fries.

“Ah…” Okay, that makes a bit more sense. “I would say let's leave them to it but I think we’re stuck here until they’re done.” he says, gesturing to the wall they’re sitting next to in the booth with his chin, but still watching Robin’s hands, trying his damndest to see if he can possibly pick up on anything she’s saying.

Nancy snorts a short laugh and watches her two friends for a bit. “I’d offer to teach you but I only know a few myself, y’know, just in case they–well, just her now–needs something in a non-verbal episode.”

“Do these happen a lot?” Wayne asks, his eyes also tracking Steve and Robin’s hands

Nancy gives him a sympathetic look. “The two of them have been through a lot, we all have, but yes, they’re more often than I’d like.”

Steve waves his hand at Nancy, getting her attention. He signs something, pointing to her, does something that looks like grabby hands with his hands stacked atop one another, then points to himself, moves to tap his closed fingertips to his mouth, moves the same hand, palm to his chest, moving it in a circle, then finishes with a crook of one finger, like suddenly he was the star of the Shining.

Robin looks incensed that he’d dare take his attention away from her when she’s very clearly trying to yell at him some more, and waves her hand directly in his face again before launching into even faster hand motions.

Nancy pushes her nearly empty plate of fries to Steve (who somehow continues his conversation with Robin one-handed as he shovels the cold fries into his mouth sloppily), and turns to ask Wayne something, already getting out of his seat, “I got it, don’t worry, what flavor does he want?”

“Strawberry!” she calls then turns back to a shocked Eddie. “Wayne knows sign?”

“News to me.” 

“Steve asked me to get him food.” She repeats each sign he’d done, “You. Get. Me. Food. Please.”

“What was the redrum shit he did at the end?” Eddie copies the finger motion.

“A question mark!” she says cheerily, copying the motion to him.

She continues to teach Eddie what she knows, just little things, like asking for water, how to say hungry, the sign for hurt, “That one is made over wherever it hurts, it’s distinctive enough to do one-handed, too.”

Finally, after Steve’s burger is gone, milkshake half-gone, the two friends’ hands finally still; their faces are soaked through with tears, chests heaving like they really had been screaming at each other this whole time.

Eddie tentatively reaches over to touch Steve’s shoulder “You doing okay, Big Boy?”

The man startles with a squeak and Eddie removes his hand like he’d been burned. “Who–who are you??”

“Uh…” Eddie says, as astute as ever, looking to Nancy for help. She just shrugs at him. Jerk. “Sorry, Stevie–Steve, I know the angel version of you.. I’m Eddie.” He puts out his hand for the man to shake.

Steve’s face tinges pink and signs something to Robin, pointing to Eddie, putting his palm flat to his own chest, then brings both his fists together at his knuckles over his heart, redrum-ing his thumbs in sync.

Robin speaks for the first time in a while, “How the hell should I know?? Just ask him yourself.” She crosses her arms over her chest angrily and looks away.

He clears his throat and turns back to Eddie, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Eddie, sorry it wasn’t before I died.”

Robin squeaks, but Steve keeps his eyes fixed to Eddie’s. “Oh, uhm, nice to meet you too, Stevi–Steve. The angel version of you is pretty okay, but I wish I had too.” he smiles, releases Steve’s hand and leans forward, stage-whispering to the other man as if the angel couldn’t hear him. “The other guy is basically just a baby in a sweater.”

Steve blinks once and erupts into the most lovely peals of laughter.

Wayne clears his throat then, and smiles, Steve’s attention is pulled to the older Munson. “Nice to meet you, son. Name’s Wayne, I’m Eddie’s uncle.”

They shake hands and Nancy speaks up, “So, Steve, what happens now? Are you going to stay here? With the angel Steve?”

The smile melts off his face at that, “Oh, uhm.. I don’t think… no. No, I want to go back.”

Both girls’ faces twinge with hurt, Nancy’s behind her gentle smile, and Robin’s more pronounced in the hurt already on her face, still looking away from her soulmate.

Something in the air changes, and both Eddie and Wayne share a look, they both feel the need to escape the conversation that’s coming.

“I am okay right now, I was super hungry, but I can feel it coming. I can tell that if I wasn’t currently half celestial being right now, that the years of dealing with Upside Down would show themselves again.” his voice gets even smaller then “I’ve really been enjoying the break from it all.”

It’s Wayne who speaks first after that, clapping Steve on the shoulder closest to him. “You enjoy your break, son. Lord knows I wish I’d had that after we dealt with those flower-faced fucks back in my day.”

Spluttering chaos erupts from the three barely adults, “After you dealt–”, “A break?!”, “Flower-faced fucks? You know about the Demogorgons??”

“How do you guys know about Demogorgons?”

“How do you know about Demogorgons??”

“It’s a monster in D&D, what does that hav–”

“Oh my god, of course that’s where they got the name from.”

“They? Who’s ‘they’??”

Wayne raises a hand to stop them, and surprisingly, it works. “Back in my day, we didn’t have’a proper name for ‘em, just called them flower-faced fucks. And yes, we dealt with a few, my buddy Fred and I went snooping around the woods near–”

“Hawkins Lab right?” Nancy cuts in.

“Yep. nearly got us, but we’d been takin’ the long way from Emerson’s house after a game’a ball. Knocked the thing’s lights out with our bats, but it disappeared.

“Over the next, what, five years? We’d somehow be the unlucky ones to run into more of ‘em, but they quieted down about a year before I left. After I got Eddie o’course.”

“Well they ramped up bigtime in the last four for us, met a girl with superpowers, there were demogorgons, demodogs, a mindflayer, the mall burned down, there were Russians, it was a whole thing.” Robin rambles off, “It’s how Steve's gotten hurt so bad. Someone” she glares at him “decided to be the punching bag every time.”

He looks sheepish. “No one else was going to do it…The party says I’m their–”

“Paladin.” Eddie finishes with him. Of course he’d be a paladin.

Steve beams at him.

“How many concussions did’ja end up with, Mr. Paladin?” Wayne grouses from his chair.

“Th-three. I think. Uhm.. I got a plate to the head once, too.” He points to a small scar at his hairline above his left eyebrow, “That was just from a racist monster though, not like, a monster monster. Started losing my hearing on that side after that…hence the ASL.”

“Fuck…” Eddie can’t help it, the word just falls from his mouth.

“There’s someone else you need to talk to, Steve.” Robin cuts in, “You are staying here until tomorrow morning at least, so I can bring Dustin to you.” and finishes with a glare. “Where are you two staying?” She directs at Eddie.

“The Hawk Inn?” He looks to Wayne for confirmation, who nods. “The one right off the main road, just past the entering Hawkins sign.”

“Fine. I will be there with Dustin tomorrow at 8 am.” She stands and gives Steve a look, then heads out the front door to the beemer.

“D’ya mind staying on the mortal plane with us for a night, Stevie?” Eddie wraps his arm over Steve’s shoulders and gives him a slight shake.

“Dustin’s really gonna love you.” Steve’s lips twitch up into a still sad smile, “And no, I don’t mind, it’s for Dustin afterall.”

“Come on then, let's get you some beauty sleep.” He shoos him off the bench after Wayne stands to pay their check. “Nance, you gonna meet us there tomorrow?”

“Of course, you still haven’t told me about this hunting business.”

–

Ten minutes after the weirdest post-hunt meal ever (and that’s saying a lot), the van rattles to a stop in front of the motel.

“I call dibs on the shower!”

“Why d’ya need to shower? Your angel cleaned us all up no problem!”

“That’s not the point, Wayne, I still feel gross and I can’t sleep unless I feel like I’m clean.”

“Whatever, I’m going to bed.” He gets the door unlocked and pushes it open for the other two, closes it, and flops down onto one of the beds. “Make sure you put down salt lines before you get in there, Ed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but sets their regular wards and precautions. “You want to take a shower first, Steve?”

“No, I’m alright, I’m just going to lay down I think.”

“Sure, I will be out in a few.”

He grabs up his things, preparing to take a few extra minutes to brace himself for catching a few hours on the hard motel loveseat.

Eddie ends up relaxing a bit too much while in the shower though, waking up from a doze when the water temperature starts to dip. Grumbling, he gets out and towels off, working off muscle memory alone. Dry off body, scrunch hair, pull on boxers, brush teeth, drop towel on floor, shuffle to bed.

He’s out as soon as his head touches the pillow.

—--

Eddie soon becomes aware of two things: One, how damn soft whatever it is he’s laying on is, and Two: the familiar weight of another person on top of him.

He opens his eyes, and groans as they adjust to the light to take in the sight above him. 

Steve’s flushed and slightly sweaty face blink into clarity and Eddie’s aware of a third thing. 

They’re both completely naked.

He groans again when he feels something brush across the head of his cock, then again as whatever it was wraps around him.

“St-Steve?” he breathes, “Ungh, Stevie, that feels so good.”

Steve releases his hold on the two of them, and he feels his arms secure themselves  around his back instead. He’s lifted up into Steve’s lap, straddling his knees, and arms draping around his neck.

“Tell me about it, angel.” Steve says, and Eddie looks down at his (beautiful, perfect) face, but is distracted by something behind him.

“Holy shit.” He breathes out, feeling Steve’s hair brush against his abdomen when he turns to look at what it is that caught Eddie’s attention.

“Oh, those?” the wings shuffle to life from where they’d been lying, dropped lazily to the ground from Steve’s back.

Eddie watches them curl in on themselves, folding in before unfurling back out, this time spreading high and wide. They are enormous, astounding, and leave Eddie awestruck looking up at them. The feathers catch the light in ways he hadn’t thought possible. A golden sheen glints off the chestnut and auburn colored feathers, patterns Eddie's certainly never seen before.

He reaches forward and touches a finger to the plumage, then just has to sink his whole hand into them. “They’re so soft..”

“They’re old news,” The honey-sweet sound of Steve’s voice snaps his attention back from the mesmerizing wings to the man they are protruding from. “These, however, are simply divine.” Steve says as he slides his hands up Eddie’s back from where they’d been wrapped around his waist.

If he thought the feeling of those hands on his skin was heavenly (hah), some other word entirely new needed to be created for the feeling that shot through him when Steve touched…something on his shoulder blades.

“Ah…hah…what are you–” Eddie turns his head to look over his shoulder the best he could, struggling to see what Steve’s talking about.

“C’mon darling, you can do it, lift those pretty wings of yours for me to see.” Steve sighs.

Eddie can’t compute anything he just heard in the slightest. Struggling to make sense of what the hell is happening right now and desperately trying not to come at how Steve’s words had affected him.

Through no conscious thought of his own, two dark brown, nearly black wings shoot up behind him, and Eddie is picked up from Steve’s lap for a split second from the momentum of the movement. He watches as they posture themselves into a mirror image of Steve’s (though they are noticeably smaller). Eddie feels his skin beneath the feathers contract slightly, making the feathers puff up in a feeble attempt to match themselves to the senior angel’s size.

He realizes that he’d been craning his neck to look up at his wings when he feels Steve’s lips and hot breath pepper across the column of his throat.

“Such a sweet little thing, my Eddie.” Steve laughs against his adam's apple when Eddie bucks his hips forward into Steve’s stomach involuntarily and a whine escapes his lips. 

The angel leaves one hand grasped over the base of one of Eddie’s wings and traces his fingertips down the bumps in his spine, then down further between the cleft of his ass with the other.

“Oohhh, fuck, Steve–Ah!” Eddie’s hips pitch forward again and his hands tangle themselves into the hair at the back of Steve’s neck, pulling the angel forward to his throat again which he latches onto immediately. 

Steve sucks bruises into Eddie’s neck as he pushes and prods and swirls his finger around his hole. “Relax my love, let me take you, take care of you.”

Eddie nods dumbly, breathing hard, willing himself to relax. He sighs and closes his eyes, rests his forehead against Steve’s once the other man pushes a finger past the ring of muscle.

“Good, good job starlight. You’re so beautiful.” Steve praises as he pumps his finger in and out.

Eddie opens his eyes and looks down at the man below him, though it’s short-lived, as his eyes roll back with yet another groan as Steve adds a second finger.

“That’s it, baby, you take me so well.”

Eddie opens his eyes again, cataloging as much minute detail, every expression that flits across Steve's face as he can while the angel works him open.

The brilliant hazel of his eyes seem to glow around the dark of his pupils, the flush on his face slowly working down his neck to his collarbones; but it’s the look of absolute reverence that has Eddie weak. The angel admires him as if he is some sort of gift. Like Eddie is a breath of fresh air, an ice-cold soda on a hot day, not the broken, unworthy man that’s somehow been graced by a literal angel’s presence.

He knows what his own face must look like, eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, mouth hanging open as he pants with desire, but Steve relishes in it, pulls him in for an open-mouthed kiss as a third finger is pushed in along the other two. Their tongues roll languidly against each other, hot breath changing lungs while Steve works.

“Ah–Steve, sunshine–I’m ready. Please!”

“Of course, Eddie.” Steve sounds like he’s out of breath; he removes his fingers and lifts Eddie easily, lining himself up with his opening.

Eddie pitches backwards as the head of Steve’s cock pushes into him.

“Easy there, darling,” Steve chuckles as he holds Eddie close, “Those things are heavy when you let them relax like that.”

Eddie hums in response, taking a second to figure out what Steve’s talking about. Tilting his head back and looking up, he doesn’t see the dark chocolate brown of his own feathers, so he turns instead. “Ah, there they are.” he says, still feeling boneless.

Steve chuckles, “That they are. Fold them up for me, Eddie, so I can lay you back.”

Eddie’s brain is swimming, but he’s doing his best to make it and his wings cooperate, “Mmmm, want you to, want you to fuck me down into them…” 

A rumbling groan sounds in Steve’s chest “Eddie. Fold them in. Now.” Steve’s impressive wingspan had relaxed somewhere in the last few minutes, but are thrown upwards again as if to emphasize his words.

Just like before, at Steve’s command, Eddie’s body immediately follows the direction. His wings snap in around him and Steve lays him down into plush feathers, pushing further into Eddie at the same time.

They groan in unison. “You are so perfect, so pliant for me.” Steve praises and he starts to move, pulling the most sinful noises from Eddie’s throat as he is fucked into over and over.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop!” Steve listened to his pleas. He didn’t stop. In fact, he pitched his hips into a slightly different angle, and went in harder and harder, plunging into Eddie so fully and so dead on he was seeing stars.

“Eddie, Eddie…” Steve chants his name in time with Eddie’s moans, “Eddie, I’m–”

-

A sharp pinging alarm wakes him, always set to 7am sharp.

Eddie grumbles some nonsense as he pushes his face farther into the firm mattress, warm where he’d been laying, and reaches to turn off his alarm.

He does, then settles back down fully, swearing to himself that he’s just gonna get a short little snooze in…and turns over to–

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie jumps so high he ends up on the rough carpet, looking up at the man sitting on the opposite side of his bed.

“Good morning, Eddie.” Steve turns his head and smiles down at him on the floor. “What were you dreaming about?”

Steve looks pointedly down to Eddie’s lap.

He looks down at himself, “Oh shit,” He snatches up the discarded comforter from Wayne’s bed to cover himself, a wet spot on his boxers making the fabric stick to his skin. “Fuck, I’m just gonna…” He trails off, hopping up and grabbing whatever clothes he can find and darting into the bathroom to the sounds of Steve’s muffled laughter 

He changes quickly, his base layer being almost exactly what he was wearing yesterday thanks to Stevie cleaning them up like he did after dealing with that ghost. He leaves the small bathroom and grabs one of Wayne’s flannels from his duffel. 

“Looks like Wayne got up before us.”

“He did, he asked if we wanted anything when he left.”

“Eh, he knows what I like.” Eddie shrugs.

The pair sit in silence for a few moments before Steve breaks it. “I’m sorry I scared you, Eddie.”

‘Yep, totally, that’s the only reason I freaked out. Definitely not because of the crazy sexy dreams I was having about you.’ Eddie thinks to himself.

“No worries, Big Boy, I’m just not used to waking up to someone in my bed.” If that ain’t the truth. He clears his throat, “I normally talk in my sleep, I didn’t say anything embarrassing did I?”

“Only some groaning.” Steve shrugs to himself.

He lets out a relieved breath. “Good, that’s good.”

“Oh, wait,” Steve snaps his fingers (“Oh no…”). “You did say ‘Yes, yes, please don’t stop!’.” 

Steve throws him a shit-eating grin but before Eddie can sputter out a single decibel, the sound of a key jiggling in the room lock snaps him up to his feet to grab the knob.

“Oh no you don’t, do the knock!” he calls, shoulder pressed against the door to keep it closed.

Eddie hears Wayne’s exasperated sigh through the thin door, but their decided pattern of a knock is tapped out and he opens the door.

Wayne steps through with a bag of take out from the nearby fast food joint. “Thought for sure you'd still be out cold. Eddie’s got a habit of snoozing five too many times.” Wayne directs the last at Steve, who chuckles in response.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, “Bullies. The both of you.” he points at the greasy bag in Wayne’s hand “Now gimme some of that so I’m not dying of hunger when we meet this Dustin kid.”

>:) Part 4 here!

@undreaming-rambles, @potentialheartofdarkness, @munsonfamilyband, @evix-syne666

[big-wet-cas-eyes]

Welcome to my Destiel fic masterlist for 2022! I wrote a lot early on in the year, and sort of fell off toward the end, but I still wrote 85,000 words this year and I'm proud of that. I'm hoping I can get back into things next year so cross your fingers for me that inspiration strikes!

Thank you to all of my followers (and anyone who has read anything I've written) for your kind words when I do write things, and for sharing things that you liked. Having fanfiction as a creative outlet has been one of my favorite things in the last couple of years, and I'm so grateful to this fandom for how supportive and kind everyone is to a new writer.

Onto the fics!

Longer fics:

life was a willow | 34k words | E

Written for Pinefest with amazing art done by the incredible @betanoiz. I think this is my favorite fic I've ever written, and I still can't even describe how happy it made me to see the artwork that brought it to life. It's mindblowing to me that my story is the reason such breathtaking art exists.

When Dean’s favorite author becomes a regular at his bar, Dean knows he’s done for. He never could have anticipated the intense feelings that blossomed for the talented Castiel. There’s just one thing standing in his way of being with Castiel the way he truly wants: Castiel is waiting for his soulmate. Dean has spent his entire life hating the concept of soulmates. He just wants to live his life without the universe intervening. If the only way he can keep Castiel in his life is by swallowing his feelings, then that’s what he’ll do.

angels roll their eyes | 8k words | M

Written for the DeanCas Reverse bang inspired by an awesome piece of art done by the wonderful @birbgalaxy (and some delightful chapter dividers that make me smile every time I think of them). I don't think I've ever had so much fun writing a fic. It's hilarious, if I do say so myself, and I don't think I would have ever come up with this idea without the art prompt.

The plan is simple enough: if there’s already an angel using Dean as a vessel, then Michael can’t trick Dean into saying “yes.” So Castiel will wear Dean’s body for a few weeks and then leave as soon as Michael is out of the picture. That’s how it’s supposed to go at least.

where the spirit meets the bones | 22k words | M

Written for the DeanCas Big Bang featuring absolutely beautiful art done by the THEEE @wigglebox. I wasn't sure if I would ever finish writing this one, so I am really proud that I managed to get this one out of my brain. I was blown away by the artwork, which really sets the tone of the story.

When Dean and Sam start to investigate a haunted inn, Dean expects it to be just like any other case. But there’s a catch: the resident ghost, Cas, turns into a human for two weeks every year. Before they can move forward with the case, they have to find out what happened to give Cas this kind of afterlife. And more importantly, Dean has to figure out how to honor his commitment to hunting monsters while he’s slowly falling for a ghost.

Shorter fics:

hold on to you | 300 words | T

Dean is in desperate need of a New Year's Eve kiss.

in the refrigerator light | 2k words | T

This is one of my favorite short fics I've written.

Taking a step back from hunting means that Dean needed something to do. Getting Cas back from the Empty was a big win for them, the kind of win that can't be followed up. So he started in on his current passion project: his cooking YouTube channel.

boots beneath my bed | 2k words | M

This is another favorite short fic of mine.

Dean finds out his favorite TV character is bisexual and promptly loses his shit.

ice frozen ground | 3k words | M

Dean doesn't know much about his neighbor. He doesn't even know his name. All he knows is that he’s hot. And that this guy runs, no matter what the weather is. Apparently, not even a blizzard can keep Dean's neighbor from his daily run.

come back...be here | 1k words | T

“Dean?” Cas says. He’s still looking down at the tiny stuffed bundle in his hands. “Is this supposed to be me?” So sue him. He made a stuffed version of Cas to hold onto when he misses his friend.

sunshine on the street | 2k words | T

Dean and Cas go on a hunt. Things don't go as planned.

get in the car | 1k words | T

When Castiel thinks the mechanic working on his car might be trying to rip him off, he does what anyone would do: He calls Dean Winchester.

forty-three pies | 5k words | M

Dean celebrates his 43rd birthday.

holy tax accountant | 4k word | T

Sam refuses to do Dean's taxes this year. Enter Castiel Novak, the hottest tax accountant Dean has ever seen.

[prettybillycore]

Stranger Things Have Happened In Hawkins || Harringrove x Reader (4/4)

Pairing(s): Billy Hargrove x Winchester!reader x Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Dean Winchester x Castiel

Universe: crossover supernatural universe x stranger things universe

Summary: The final part of the series– what will happen when Billy comes back to life?

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence/Gore

Read it on this post (under the cut) or on AO3

Time continued on, as it always does. You talked to Jonathan on the phone a few times a month, just to keep in touch with everything going on in California. El was always happy to hear from you when you called. Your calls were never very long; contact between Hawkins and the California kids was kept minimal. Even still, you managed to give them updates on the hellfire club and your work on the Camaro. Life was sad, yet peaceful. You and the Hawkins kids had found a new home in your school lives; the Hellfire Club. Eddie Munson was the star of your world right now. He was funny and genuine; he made you feel safe. Aside from Steve and previously Billy, Eddie’s presence was where you felt the safest. You had gone from middle of the road to full on nerd, but you didn’t care. You cut your Hellfire shirt into a cropped tank top and wore it with pride. Steve was still one of your closest companions, but since he had graduated your world focused almost entirely around the Hellfire Club. Robin teased you for your devotion to dungeons and dragons; she called you Queen Y/n Winchester, mother of nerds. Even through her teasing, you knew she was happy for you. She and Steve both supported you being in a club that occupied so much of your time. Talking about your characters and campaigns was one of the only things that ever made you smile now. 

Between August and March, nothing supernatural happened. You all were able to go about your days entirely normally. Robin and Steve worked at Family Video, you and the kids were busy with the Hellfire Club, and the California crew were doing their best to get settled in such a different place. Even though nothing monstrous happened, that doesn’t mean those months were uneventful. You spent most of your time trying to heal your broken heart. Your life had been made up of so many losses you were almost afraid of gaining anything new. You were so happy to have new friends around, but at the same time you were worried about loosing them. You couldn’t bare the thought of losing anyone else close to you. It took awhile, but you eventually opened up to Eddie about how Billy’s death had effected you. One night in September, after a Hellfire Club meeting, you had Eddie over to your house. 

Max was surprised by Eddie’s presence at first, but she didn’t mind him. She left the two of you to talk on the hood of the Camaro after a little while. You were both laying down, gazing up at the maze of stars in the night sky. A stillness had fallen over you both after a bout of laughter. 

“So this is the Camaro I’ve heard so much about. Any closer to getting it running again?” Eddie asked. His voice was calm and filled with genuine curiosity. 

“I think so,” you answered. “I’m still trying to get a few parts for the engine, but I think if I can get them, she’ll run again, just like before.” 

You heard him take a deep breath in response before you felt his eyes shift toward you. “Do you think getting the car to run again will ease your grief?”

The question only caught you a little off guard; you honestly half expected this conversation to turn to Billy at some point. You and Eddie had been slowly getting closer over the last few months and he did deserve some sort of insight into your mind. You weren’t ready to open up about the upside down or your life before Hawkins, but you felt comfortable enough with him to talk a little about your lost love. “I like to think it will,” you answered honestly. “I connected with Billy on a level I haven’t been able to with anyone else. We both came from broken homes made by broken parents that were filled to the brim with traumatic experiences; yet somehow we were able to pull the happiness and joy out of each other. I’ve been having a hard time finding my spark since he died. I have been putting a lot of faith into the idea that a ride in this hunk of junk would help me get that spark back. I don’t know if it will, but I’m afraid of who I’ll become if I stop trying to find that joy again. I don’t want to go back to how I felt before I started working on the Camaro.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Has anything helped you feel better, other than working on the Camaro?”

You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew the answer to the question that Eddie has set in front of you, but you felt silly saying it. “Can I be honest with you, Munson?”

“Of course, totally,” he replied without a second thought. 

You opened your eyes again and looked toward him. His gaze was latched to yours instantly. “The only thing that has helped me feel better has been playing DnD with all of you in the Hellfire Club.” You both cracked smiles before you continued. “When Billy was around, I ran DnD nights for his little sister and some of her friends, including Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair. I had a hell of a time being the DM and we had a fucking awesome campaign going, but when Billy died, I lost all interest in DMing. I didn’t leave the house for weeks. I made everyone worry and I had absolutely lost every creative bone in my body. It’s why it took so much convincing from Dustin and you for me to join Hellfire… but I’m really glad I listened to you two. Sometimes I miss DMing, but playing alongside Dustin and the others has given me back a small bit of joy. It’s like a little glimpse of hope. It sounds really fucking cheesy to say, but it’s true.”

“I’m glad the club has helped,” Eddie answered. “I remember seeing you around before everything that happened in July. You always had such a brightness to you; I would love to see you get that back.” You looked away from him briefly after that comment. It stung you in a way you can’t describe; a deep guttural cut. “Sorry, that was creepy of me to say.”

You shook your head a bit. “No, you’re good Eddie. Just… thank you for taking me into Hellfire. It means more to me than you know.” 

“You’re always welcome at Hellfire, Y/n. I’ll– We’ll always have a place for you.”

| < ♥️ > |

After that night, Eddie kept an even closer eye on you at school than he did before. He planned a horror-themed one-shot for the week of Halloween. The whole club was at the edge of their seats all of October. Eddie was writing things in his DM notebook during every free minute he had; everyone was excited to see what he had come up with for the spooky special occasion. Outside of the club’s horror one-shot, the school was buzzing with anticipation for homecoming week. It, much like Halloween, was in October for Hawkins High. The homecoming dance was at the front of many students’ minds. You and the Hellfire club were not so excited about the dance; it wasn’t the kind of social event that most of you enjoyed. Jason Carver, however, was incredibly eager to get you to go to the dance with him. Despite your nerd status, he was still chasing after you. He corned you at your locker one afternoon.

You were gathering your books from your locker when a hand pressed against the locker next to yours. Your heart ached when you saw the letterman jacket; until your registered that this person was wearing that instead of a leather one, your brain let you believe for a second it was Billy. You tried to keep your emotions off your face as you turned around to find it was Jason. “What do you want, Carver?” Your discomfort about how close he was to you would have been clear to anyone who saw you. It was written all over your face, despite your best efforts. 

“I want you to come to the homecoming dance with me.” He said it with so much confidence it almost made you gag. Even though you had been turning him down for over a month, he was really sure that you would want to accompany him to a dance. 

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he asked.

“Both,” you huffed.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t because I have prior engagements with the Hellfire Club the night of the dance and I won’t because you’re a massive fucking dick,” you replied. You splayed your mouth into a wide smile, just to piss him off further. 

“You would rather hang out with a band of freaks and play pretend than go out with me?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms. “Yes, was that not already abundantly clear from the amount of times I have rejected you?” 

“You really are just a dumb bitch, aren’t you?” 

You scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Your sorry excuse for a boyfriend has been dead for months and instead of trying to move on with someone who could give you anything you could ever want, you play make-believe with a bunch of nobodies. You probably fell for Munson like the dumb bitch you are. It would be just like you to fall for a fuckin’ freak. You were friends with the Byers boys, afterall.” Jason shook his head. “There’s no way Hargrove saw anything in you other than a hot body. You’re just a whore for anyone who listens to metal music and smokes.”

You knew Jason had a lot of audacity, but you never ever would have expected him to say something like that. His comment left you feeling speechless. It was ruthless toward not only you, but toward Billy, Will, Jonathan, and Eddie. Your blood was so hot it felt like it was boiling you front the inside. You were about to give Jason a piece of your mind, but you were interrupted by two of your favorite people cutting into the conversation. Steve pulled Jason away from you and Eddie was instantly in his face. “In my opinion, this is just about the worst way you could ever try to ask someone out.” He seethed. “So let’s set something straight Carver, Y/n is a member of the Hellfire Club, which means she’s under the protection of said Hellfire Club. I make sure my members stay safe from bullies like you. Since you think I’m so weird and scary I would suggestion you stay away from Y/n from now on because if you don’t you’ll have to deal with me and you wouldn’t want to contract some kind of nerd disease, would you?” Eddie gave Jason the same kind of smile you had a few minutes ago. It made you giggle inside, though you managed to keep a straight face. 

“And I know I graduated,” Steve said, “but I am still in Hawkins. Y/n is like family to me and I am not afraid to bruise your ego if it means protecting her.” He let go of Jason and sighed. “Keep her and Billy’s names out of your mouth. You have no idea what their relationship was like and the impact his death had on her. She has every right to stay single as long as she feels she needs to. The death of someone that close to you doesn’t just get brushed under the rug. It hurts you for a long time.”

Jason huffed in annoyance. “Come on, Harrington. It hasn’t been that long since you graduated. You know Munson is weird as hell and Y/n needs a real man to put her in her place. Munson can’t do jack shit for her.”

Steve sighed. “You really just ignored every word I said.”

“Just stay out of our lives, Carver. This shit isn’t worth it,” Eddie spat. “C’mon, Y/n. Let’s go.”

You followed Eddie and Steve outside to the parking lot, where Dustin and Robin were waiting. “You okay, Y/n?” Robin asked.

“Mostly. How did you know something was going on?” you questioned. 

“I saw Jason corner you so I ran out here to get Steve. He’s driving me to work today,” she explained. 

“Eddie and I were nearby and overheard what Robin was saying, so Eddie offered to go in with Steve,” Dustin finished. “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, guys. I could have handled it, but I’m glad I didn’t have to. I appreciate what you all did.”

“Anytime, Winchester,” Eddie replied with a small smile.

“Need a ride home?” Steve asked. 

You shook your head. “No, but thanks, Stevie. I can’t leave Baby here overnight. Dean would murder me if he found out I did.” You both knew Dean would never find out, but Steve respected your reasoning. 

“Drive safe, Y/n, and if you need anything call Family Video. Robin and I are scheduled to work until 9 tonight,” Steve answered. 

“Will do, thanks again, Steve, and you too, Eddie.”

| < ♥️ > |

The Halloween one-shot was a smashing success and the whole club was completely absorbed in the storyline. Half of the characters died before your party even made it to the final boss battle, but none of you really minded. The game was thrilling no matter if you were playing or just watching. November sent a chill down everyone’s spines as it started. Cold air really started to really clutch Hawkins. You and Max were both bundled up in a mix of Dean and Billy’s clothes most days for school that month. Both of them had comfy jackets and shirts that brought you both a small sense of security. It wasn’t much, but wearing their jackets as protection from the frosty air did bring you and Max some extra (much-needed) peace. 

Jason stopped bothering you after the day in the hallway. He had his eyes refocused on a girl named Chrissy Cunningham. You had only spoken to her a few times, but she seemed like a sweetheart and you felt a bit bad that she had become Jason’s next target. You truly wished her the best with that as you fell back into your obsession with dungeons and dragons. With every day that passed, you grew closer to Eddie and you couldn’t help but hear Jason’s words in your mind: There’s no way Hargrove saw anything in you other than a hot body. You’re just a whore for anyone who listens to metal music and smokes. 

Every time that thought came to you, you did your best to just shake it off. Billy had only been gone a few months and you were definitely still grieving his death. You felt weird enough having romantic feelings still for Steve; you became anxious at the thought that you could be falling for Eddie already too. 

“Hey Winchester, are you listening?” Eddie’s voice broke through the very loud thoughts that were bouncing around the inside of your skull. 

You blinked a few times and looked toward the head of your lunch table. Many of the members of Hellfire were looking your way, including Eddie. His gaze was absolutely piercing. “I am now.”

“Keep your eyes on the prize, Y/n. We’re talking about our next campaign. It’s going to carry our club all the way through March,” he scolded lightly.

“March? That’s a long ass campaign,” you joked.

“It’s a very important story; it deserves enough space to be told properly.” 

You nodded and did your best to stay focused on what Eddie and the other members of your club were discussing. It got harder to concentrate the longer lunch went on, but you did your best to appear like you were listening. You were truly interested in the conversation, but you felt like you were being swallowed whole by your anxiety. It felt impossible to focus on the campaign with everything swirling around your head. “Winchester!” Eddie’s voice cut through the fog again. “What is going on with you today?”

Your eyes refocused on your friends again and you saw Dustin looking at you with a worried expression. You looked to Eddie for some sort of comfort, but his expression held mostly annoyance with a hint of concern. Your chest felt heavy and you looked away from your friends. “My mind is elsewhere today,” you replied. You fumbled with your walkman and headphones for a second. Your hands were shaking and you could feel them becoming increasingly cold. “I think I need to go.” You put your headphones over your ears, giving the party no further explanation before grabbing your tray, dumping its contents in the garbage, and hastily exiting the cafeteria. Normally, if you got anxious during school hours you would just excuse yourself to the bathroom for a few minutes. You could feel that this was going to be a stronger anxiety attack than usual though, so you headed straight for Baby. Tears were falling down your face before you made it to the Impala, but the parking lot was mostly empty because of the time of day, so you weren’t seen by anyone. You quickly hopped into the back and curled into a ball across the bench seat. The car was cold without the heater on, but with the doors closed there was no wind, so you didn’t so much mind the chilliness. It just seemed like everything was too much. You missed your family and Billy so much. You were mourning so many losses and yet you still carried yourself forward every day. The world felt like it was crumbling down around you and you couldn’t place exactly where your anxiety was coming from. Was it a wave of grief or was it triggered by the idea of moving on from Billy? Or the idea of spending another Christmas without Dean and Cas? You didn’t know and you just curled into yourself tighter as your body was wrecked with sobs. 

You cried in the back seat until you felt well enough to drive yourself away from school. You knew your friends would be worried about you, but you also knew you could call and update them later. Right now, you needed to take care of yourself and you knew that you needed to get out of the school parking lot. You got yourself in the driver’s seat and quickly drove yourself to Steve’s house. His parents were still never around, so you didn’t worry too much about them being there. You knew he didn’t have work today and you felt bad for interrupting his peace, but you needed someone who knew the details about your life experiences to give you some comfort. Steve came running up to your car door before you even had time to turn off the Impala. He heard your tires screeching from inside the house. “What’s happened, Y/n?” he asked. You saw him scanning your features; his eyes were full of concern. 

You tried to speak, but your throat was so dry, not a single syllable came out of your mouth. Tears started falling again out of frustration and you climbed out of the car. Steve instantly wrapped his arms around you and another wave of sobs came over you. He held you close to his chest and you could hear his rapid heartbeat. You felt terrible for causing him stress, but your mind began to get quieter as he rested a hand on the back of your head. “I can’t do it anymore, Steve.”

“Do what, Y/n?”

“Live like this.”

Steve’s heart absolutely shattered as those words exited your mouth and his grip on you became even tighter. “I’ve got you, Y/n, you’re safe with me. I don’t know what exactly is going on, but I promise I’m here for you. We’ll figure it out together.”

| < ♥️ > |

December went by in a blink. You found yourself pulling away from the Hellfire Club just a little bit as midterms approached. You still loved DnD and your friends, but your grief was worsening again in tandem with your depression. Eddie made a point to talk to you every school day. He spoke at a lower volume than usual and with a softness that was almost unfamiliar. It reminded you of that night back in September when you opened up to him about Billy. He tried you with kindness and gentle gestures that made your heart swoon; though your responses to him were small, he could tell that you appreciated his efforts. When it came time for you to go home on the last day before Winter Break, he made sure to give you a tight hug and remind you that he was just a phone call away. You hugged him back and promised that if anything went wrong you’d give him a call. You took Max back to your house; Steve was already there when you got home. You had given him the spare key to your home since he had been helping you with your mental health. He had three mugs full of hot chocolate ready when you and Max walked in the front door. She thanked him and headed off to her room to decompress after the stressful day of midterms. 

Steve smiled at you and handed you your mug. “How do you think your tests went today?” he asked. The two of you made your way over to the living room couch. 

You shrugged as you both sat down. “Honestly, I have no idea. Mr. Herschel fucking sucks at teaching history and Ms. G’s grading varies a lot.”

Steve took a big swig of his hot chocolate. “Well no matter what your grades end up being, I’m proud of you for making it through this semester.” 

“Thanks Steve.”

“Always, Y/n.”

| < ♥️ > |

Max went to spend Christmas with her mom, so it was just you and Steve on Christmas Eve. You spent a large portion of the day in a somber mood, but Steve did cheer you up with some Christmas movies and silly dancing to Metallica in your living room. In the evening, you found yourselves snuggled together on the couch. There was pretty much no space between you, but that had become commonplace over the last few weeks. Steve never made you feel uncomfortable and you knew that you were completely safe with him. You both buzzed with feelings for each other. You also both felt the weight of grieving Billy. It is what kept you in the liminal space between friends and more. Steve didn’t shy away as you began to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Enjoying Christmas Eve?” he asked. He leaned his head gently on yours. You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your senses were filled with the sounds of the crackling fire and the smell of Steve’s cologne. 

“Mhm…” you mused. 

“Me too,” he replied quietly. 

“The house feels strangely empty, but it’s also kind of peaceful,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah, it is.” You two fell into more comfortable silence as a Christmas movie continued on in the background. Between the fire and Steve’s body heat, you had no idea it was even cold outside. You stayed in the peaceful quiet until the movie ended and Steve flicked off the tv. You curled into his side a little bit more and focused your thoughts on the fireplace. The flames danced and sang to you in a way that you found absolutely beautiful. Steve pulled away to look at you after a few moments. You tossed him a confused look in return.

“You alright, Stevie?” 

His eyes combed over your face. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“What are you thinking about?” You didn’t really need to ask. You could tell by the way his eyes were flicking between yours and your lips exactly where his mind was.

“Would you be okay if I kissed you right now?” His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. 

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You could feel Billy’s energy around you; buzzing with hope of you finally having some happiness. “I think I could be okay,” you replied just as softly. Steve gently grasped your chin and pulled your lips to his. 

| < ♥️ > |

January was the first month where Steve didn’t hide his feelings anymore. You didn’t tell anyone that you were dating, but Max knew by his increased presence in your house that something had changed. You were both a little afraid of what labeling your relationship meant. It pained you both that Billy wasn’t there to be a part of it. Steve showered you with affection and flowers every chance he got. He also visited Billy’s grave a few times to bring your boy some flowers as well. Your heart began to swell in a way it had only ever done for Billy. You were falling madly in love with Steve; and you were beginning to be okay with it. 

The members of the Hellfire Club noticed the change in your mood when you returned to school from break. Eddie, as always, kept a close eye on you. It didn’t go unnoticed that Steve picked you up from school in the Impala some days. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he knew something happened between you and Steve. He continued to check on you every day and chatted to you about plans for the club campaign. You were back to your old self again; laughing and joking with him about his dungeon master powers. He was a little bit jealous of whatever you and Steve had going on, but he did have to admit; Harrington probably saved your life that holiday season. 

“So, Winchester, what are your plans for the evening?” Eddie asked. He was walking you to the Impala, as he always did.

You shrugged. “Nothing much. I think Steve, Max, Dustin, and I are going to go to the arcade. We’ve been trying to get Max out of the house a bit more. I can tell that Billy’s death is still really affecting her.” 

Eddie nodded. “Well, the arcade sounds like a good idea then. Max really likes gaming, right?” 

You agreed, “Yeah, she does… would you like to join us, Eddie? There’s no pressure, but you’re welcome to come along if you would like to.”

Eddie looked toward Steve, who was standing by the driver’s door of the Impala. He knew Steve thought he was weird; that much was obvious. Though, the two of them had you connecting them right now and he knew it would be good if he could get Steve to open up to him a bit more. “As long as Steve doesn’t mind, I’d be happy to.” 

Steve tosses you both the gentle smile that you loved so much. “Fine by me, we can fit five of us in the Impala.”

“What’s happening?” Dustin asked as he and Max approached the car. 

“Eddie’s going to join us for our trip to the arcade.” 

Dustin smiled brightly. “Yo, that’s awesome!” 

You reached out and ruffled his hair. “You’re in the middle seat kid, go put your stuff in the trunk and load up.” Dustin huffed slightly at the middle seat comment, but he and Max both went to get settled in the car. “Eddie you can also toss your stuff in the trunk and you can sit in whichever seat Max doesn’t pick. If I had to guess, that would be the seat behind the driver’s.”

He nodded and began to situate his bag. “Thanks for letting me join.” 

You smiled and Steve tossed him a nod, “No problem, Munson.”

| < ♥️ > |

February was the last month of quiet Hawkins got. Your connections with your friends out in California were growing smaller and smaller every day. You missed them all terribly, but your schedules were all getting busier and the universe just seemed completely opposed to you staying connected. El and you had established a more direct line of communication through your powers, so you still felt connected to her. She didn’t have her powers anymore, but there was still some lingering power around her that lead you to be able to reach out to her. She kept you updated on the trials and tribulations of the California group, and you filled her in on your Hawkins lives as much as you could. She was always curious about Mike; who you knew the least about. You two had never gotten along. El was understanding of that and was appreciative of the little bit of information you had on the Wheeler boy. When your connection to her destabilized you would wave goodbye quickly and breathe deeply out. 

Steve was standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His arms were crossed over his chest. “How is everyone?” he asked. 

You shrugged. “Overall okay. Things feel too quiet.”

He chuckles, “You just worry too much.” 

| < ♥️ > |

You realized in March that you don’t worry too much. The erieeness you sensed around the peace in Hawkins was justified in the third month of the year. You woke up from a particularly violent nightmare about Billy around 4 am. No one was staying at your house that night so you just wiped the tears from your eyes and made your way outside to the camaro. It was almost in perfect working order now, you hadn’t tried to turn it on yet, but you decided that you were ready to try. All of Billy’s smaller items didn’t feel like him anymore. They all held your own energy at this point and after the nightmare you had, you wanted to feel his energy, not your own. You placed yourself in the driver’s seat and stabbed the key into the ignition. You let out a deep breath before stepping on the break and turning the key. To your excitement and slight surprise, the engine roared to life. It felt like Billy was in the passenger seat his energy was so laced in the leather and motor oil. You laughed with joy and pulled out of the yard. The streets were dead because it was so early in the morning. “I DID IT, BILLY! Billy I did it.” 

You road around in the Camaro until about 7 am when you decided to pull into Steve’s driveway. He ran to the front door when he heard the engine outside. His confusion turned into a huge smile when he saw what you were driving in. “Holy Shit!” He yelled as he ran up to your door. You hopped out of the car, mirroring his smile. He planted a kiss on your cheek. “I knew you could do it, babe. Billy is totally cheering right now.”

You nodded back, but you didn’t get a picture of Billy happy in your mind. You got an image of him standing behind Steve; cleaning a gun. He looked dirty, tired, and worse for wear. He perked up at the sound of something approaching him. He shot the gun at whatever was getting close to him before returning to cleaning it. You blinked a few times and your vision focused back on Steve. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s really happy, where ever he is.”

The Hellfire Club erupted in the parking lot of Hawkins High when they saw the Camaro roll up. There were a lot of stares from other students, but you didn’t care. Eddie was instantly at your door when you parked. “Look at this shit! It sounds like it’s a brand-new car.” 

You beamed at him, “I don’t know if it sounds that good, but I am so excited it’s up and running again! Maybe before we start playing tonight I could take you on a joy ride.”

His smile mirrored yours, “Hell yeah. Wouldn’t miss an opportunity like that for the world. We could do a few laps around the neighborhood before Hellfire.”

You turned the Camaro off and grabbed your bag. “Sounds like a plan, Munson.”

Max and Dustin caught your attention as they came running up to the two of you. “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Dustin yelled. 

“You did it!” Max shouted. She threw herself into your side, her arms were tightly around your waist. 

Your heart swelled as you hugged her back. “We did it! I couldn’t have made it happen without the support of all of you.” You felt Max smile and watched Dustin’s face light up with joy. “I was just offering Eddie a joy ride. Maybe I can take you freshmen to the arcade this weekend?” 

Dustin nodded excitedly and Max joined him after she pulled away from the hug. “That would be Bitchin’,” Max joked. 

“Fantastic,” you replied.

“The arcade?” Eddie asked. “That sounds like fun, maybe we could make it a Hellfire club plus Ginger situation?” 

You looked to Dustin and Max for an answer. They seemed on board. “As long as you never call me ‘Ginger’ again, I could be on board with that plan.”

Eddie chuckled, “Deal, Red.”

| < ♥️ > |

You held Steve’s hand tightly as the gym filled for the pep rally. It was loud, bright, and already packed. You breathed in and out deeply as Steve ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “Nervous?” 

You nodded and breathed out a pretty loud sigh. “Yeah, this is honestly just too many people for me. If Robin wasn’t playing and you weren’t here I’d be ditching this shit and hiding in the Camaro. I know Eddie feels the same. It’s all just… a lot, you know?”

His nostrils flared a bit at the mention of Eddie’s name, but the look on his face was sympathetic. “I understand. I’m excited to see Robin play, but you’re right. It’s overwhelming in here, even for me.” 

The freshmen ended up a few rows below you in the bleachers. Dustin and Max sent waves in your direction. You perked up enough to wave back. Steve smiled at you. “What? What are you gawking at?” Your tone was teasing and he could clearly tell. 

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Can’t I just look at you? You’re gorgeous and your expression always lightens up when you look at the kids.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You looked away from Steve’s strong gaze and your eyes fell on Robin. You sent her a small smile and she tossed a similar one back at you. You could tell that she was feeling the same anxiety you were feeling. “I appreciate you, Steve. Really, I do.”

Your eyes met for a brief moment before he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I know, babe.”

Your peaceful moment with Steve was interrupted by an outburst from the crowd; the pep rally was officially kicking off. You settled your eyes on the band’s section of the bleachers. Robin was playing wonderfully and you actually found the environment partially enjoyable– until Jason Carver began his speech. You were happy that Lucas was getting into sports; you knew that it was something he found enjoyable. However, you were not a fan of his team captain, Jason. He was rude and brash and was a serial cheater. Even though he wasn’t chasing after you anymore, he treated you and every other fem-presenting person like trash. All that to say, Jason Carver’s existence still left a bad taste in your mouth. “First off, I'd like to thank each and every one of you,” he started. “Without your support, we wouldn't be here. Give yourselves a big hand.” The crowd erupted and the sound was so loud that it made your ears ring. It didn’t help that the crowd’s cheering was immediately followed by Jason’s microphone screaming with the noises of feedback. You grimaced and Steve gently squeezed your hand. “And of course, of course, I have to give a special shout-out to the best and the prettiest fans of all time, the Tiger Cheer Squad.” He paused for a moment before shifting his focus to his girlfriend. You felt bad for her; you knew that Jason was unfaithful and every time you had spoken with her, she had treated you with kindness. “Chrissy… Chrissy, I love you, babe.” You sighed quietly at the sentiment. Most of the crowd awed. 

Eddie was skipping out on the pep rally with other members of the Hellfire Club. You wanted to be with Steve and Robin, but you could also feel yourself getting annoyed at the situation you were in. You were almost wishing that you had taken Eddie up on his offer to miss this. “You know… I think I can speak for all of us when I say it's been a tough year for Hawkins.” You look toward Steve with a quirked eyebrow. He passed you a similar expression. “So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Where is he going with this? “In dark days like this, we need something to believe in.” You gripped Steve’s hand tightly.

“So, last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team, and I said.” You looked at Steve again as you felt a deep pit form in your stomach. Please don’t let him say what I think he’s going to say.

“Think of Jack. Think of Melissa. Think of Heather—”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.

“Think of Billy.” Your eyes were trained on Jason, but you could feel Steve, Robin, and some of the kids looking at you. The pit in your stomach started boiling. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper. Think about every one of our friends who perished in that fire. What did they die for? For us to lose to some… some crap school?” He can’t be serious right now… Leveraging the violent deaths of local people? My People. Billy… Your breath quickened as your mind took you back to the night of the fire. You could hear Billy screaming, Max and El crying, and the pain in Billy’s voice when he spoke his last words. 

“Y/n…” Steve’s voice sounded so far away. You knew that he was still standing next to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself back to the pep rally. 

| < ♥️ > |

You found yourself again once you were in the seclusion of a bathroom stall. Your feet froze to the ground as you breathed boiling air out through your nose. You couldn’t believe Jason’s audacity– using the deaths of Hopper and Billy like that. You didn’t know what to think; the only thing your brain could feel was internal rage. You did your best to calm yourself down inside the stall, but the four walls around you felt more encroaching than comforting at this particular moment. It was hard to regulate your breathing– even more than usual. You were no stranger to panic attacks at this point in your life, but you were accustomed to them hitting you this hard this quick. You were pretty used to calming yourself down from them so this panic attack had to be something special. Your heart felt so tight in your chest that it seemed like it was about to burst outward. The only reason it didn’t was because someone else entered the bathroom. You put your hand over your mouth in a vague attempt to quiet your sobs. 

| < ♥️ > |

“The Devil has come to America.” Eddie’s voice was deep. It was like a lullaby to you at this point. “Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned.” He had the magazine blocking his face, but you could guess his mocking expression by his tone. 

“Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship,

ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even… murder.” The whole table chuckled at his antics. You shook your head lightly as you giggled. He was particularly out of control today and it was quite comical. 

“DnD has nothing to do with satanic worship or ritual sacrifice, trust me, I would know,” You teased. The group larger group had no idea what you meant and you found it fun. You were sure that Jeff and Gareth thought you were in a cult or something. They weirdly worshipped the ground you walked on. Eddie’s ideas about your cryptic comments were harder to guess, but you knew they had to be a little more realistic. He was one for dramatic flare, but not so much for outlandish claims. Dustin and Mike laughed even though they knew of your angelic origin. 

“If you know so much of these things, you should share your knowledge with group,” Eddie poked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Follow me into the woods during the next full moon, you’ll learn all about ritual sacrifice.” Your words dripped sarcasm, but you could sense Jeff and Gareth’s unease. Eddie was watching you intently. “Relax you two, I’m not going to murder your precious leader. I’d much rather see Jason’s head on a stick.”

Eddie quirked his eyebrow. “Why’s that? He bothering you again?”

You shook your head. “No. It’s what he said earlier. I hate when fuckin’ jocks get under my skin, it feels like there’s a rat crawling along my skeleton.”

“About Billy?” Eddie asked. The others were shocked by his forwardness, but you simply nodded in response. 

“And we’re the ones labeled as the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game, but–”

He smacked his hand on the table before stepping on the surface. “as long as you're into band or science……or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets…”

“You want something, Freak?” Jason quipped. 

You rolled your eyes at their interaction before turning your attention back to your food. Jason shouldn’t even be on your mind anymore– he stopped harassing you (mostly). You were just so mad at yourself for taking his comment about Billy and Hopper to heart. You had a hard time accepting that their deaths were still weighing on you without Jason twisting them into some sort of sick inspirational quote. “It's forced conforming. That's what's……killing the kids!” Eddie was shouting for the whole cafeteria to hear. It didn’t usually bother you when he pulled stunts like this, but today just wasn’t the day and you weren’t in the mood. “That's the real monster,” he said as he hopped of the table. 

Dustin and Mike took this moment to introject, but you weren’t really listening to the conversation. Your eyes were too busy trying to burn holes into the back of Jason’s head. 

| < ♥️ > |

You were planning to leave Jason alone, you really were. You were going to just do your best to move on from the whole pep rally situation. You were on your way out to the car when he stopped you. He grabbed your shoulder while you tried to brush past him. “Hey, Y/n. What’s the rush?”

You justled your arm enough that he let go and he was lucky that you didn’t kill him right then. “I’m trying to make a quick run to my car before my next class starts. What do you want, Carver?”

“Are we really back to just calling each other by our last names now? Come on, Y/n, you might try to avoid me, but deep down you love the attention I give you. You’re still a needed whore, even without Hargrove around. That’s why you’ve got Harrington doding on you and Munson following you around like a lost fucking puppy, right?”

“The fuck ?” You replied off the cuff. “What has gotten into you today?”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You just seem to have the most fucking audacity today. If you want to keep your teeth attached to your skull, you’ll leave me the fuck alone and keep Billy’s name out of your fucking mouth. Using his death to push your own agenda and calling me a whore in the same day is grounds for getting your tongue cut out,” you spat. 

He scoffed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking to me like that, Winchester.”

You copied his stance, crossing your arms over your chest. “You have a lot of nerve talking about Billy at all, Carver.”

Jason made a ‘tsk’ sound with his tongue hitting the back of his teeth. “That rat bastard was a shitty person at best, he deserved his death sentence.”

It was only a second before your fist connected with Jason’s jaw. Every once of angelic grace you had went into that punch. The next few minutes were entirely blurry. Jason attempted to fight back, but it was a fruitless effort; he landed a few hits on you at most. Eddie and Max came from somewhere nearby– you weren’t sure where. Max smacked Jason with her skateboard and Eddie pulled you away from the scene

Your body ached in a way that it hadn’t ever before. Your muscles felt like they were cramping up and your powers were making your fingertips feel fuzzy. You were out by the Camaro with Eddie, just trying to calm down. You didn’t mean to go as far as you did, but this was one of the rare times where your powers got the best of you. A few of the teachers and the guidance counselor had attempted an intervention between you and Jason, but you refused to hear them. The principal let you go with a warning after you explained what Jason had said, despite Jason’s complaints about the damage to his face. He, being a favorite among staff, also got away with just a warning. Eddie just held your wrists lightly and helped you regulate your breathing. You knew your nose was bloodied and the skin around your eye was bruised, but you didn’t care– you knew it would clear up quickly anyway. 

Dustin peaked his head around the corner of a nearby car. You had no idea how long he had been there. “I know this is probably a bad time, but I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner,” he said as he walked over to you, Eddie, and the Camaro. 

“Think of what, Henderson?” Eddie asked.

“Can you Sub for Lucas, Y/n? You’re going to be there anyway.”

You were always at the Hellfire Club meetings, but you were not playing in “The Cult of Vecna” Campaign. You were using club time to work on your own short campaign that you were going to co-DM with Eddie on. It was your pride and joy. It would be the last campaign that everyone was together for. “In theory yes, in practice, I don’t know. I feel a bit like shit at the current moment.”

Eddie huffed. “Keep looking for a Sub, Henderson.”

Dustin huffed and it made Eddie smirk. You smiled. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“Always, Winchester, always. ”

| < ♥️ > |

You found yourself asleep in the game room. You loved the campaign you were working on, but you were exhausted from your day. You needed to rest, but it wasn’t exactly a peaceful nap. Your relaxation was periodically interrupted by visions of Billy and the Upside Down. You tossed and turned a few times in response– once you even rolled off your bench/makeshift bed. This amount of sleep disturbance felt wrong. It was almost too real for you to handle. You felt Billy’s spirit just barely outside of your reach. After five or six times of waking up front this sleep, you gave up. You groaned and rubbed your hands across your under eyes. “How you doing, Winchester?” Eddie asked.

It wasn’t quite time for the club to start so it was just you, him, and Gareth in the room. You huffed. “Still like shit, honestly.”

“Valid,” Gareth replied. “What you did today, that was some real cool shit.”

“Oh yeah?” You joked. 

“Yeah! Taking on big bully Jason, all by yourself? Some tough shit, Winchester,” He answered.

You stood up, stretched your back, and chuckled. “Thanks, man.” You let out of deep sigh. “I think I’m going to go home, if that’s alright with you, Eddie.”

He nodded, “of course, but don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything.”

“I will,” you answered. You waved to them both after you gathered your things. Your walk to the Camaro wasn’t long. It was still parked outside in the school’s connected parking lot. You smiled at the sight of it; it was still one of the biggest joys in life. You set your hand on the driver side door handle. Your hand buzzed with Billy’s soul electricity. It felt even stronger than it did earlier in the day. It made you curious, but you didn’t think about it too much as you slid yourself into the driver’s seat. The car roared to life with the twist of its keys and your brain flashed images of Billy once again. And again, it was moments that you hadn’t seen before. Billy sat on the porch of a house, dilapidated and old, cleaning a hunting rifle, shooting a monster, and then sitting back down. You shuttered as your vision returned to viewing the Hawkins High School parking lot. You huffed, feeling worn out and a little out of breath. “What the fuck is going on?”

| < ♥️ > |

You found some relief when you saw Steve. You turned the Camaro off and dropped the keys into your pocket. Steve was standing in the doorway of the front of the house. The smile on his face was soft and made his features appear to be glowing. You found yourself running to him and pulling him close as quickly as you could. He hugged you back, but you could tell by the tension in his body that he was confused. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked. 

You took a deep breath in before speaking. The air smelled like firewood and Steve’s cologne. “It’s Billy,” you answered. “I know it sounds like I’m going batshit crazy, but I swear I’m feeling his energy bouncing around everywhere I go today. It’s so strong it feels like he’s alive again.” Your words were muffled by the fabric of Steve’s shirt. 

“Do you know what could be causing it?” Steve questioned. His voice was quiet, almost hushed. 

You shook your head lightly. “The only explanation I can think of that would explain what I’ve been experiencing is that Billy is alive in the Upside Down, but I know that that’s nearly impossible. I don’t know what’s happening, Steve. I’m scared.”

Steve’s grip on you became a little tighter. “It’s okay, Y/n. We’ll figure out whatever is going on together, I promise.”

| < ♥️ > |

You were horrified by the fact that you all were in the Upside Down. It was bad enough the last time you were near the place, let alone in it. You were stressed beyond belief; you couldn’t protect everyone if you were all in it together. There were too many people and too many ways that things could go wrong. 

Eddie smiled softly at you in the darkness. “We’re going to be okay. We’ve got this.”

You smiled back. “I’m glad you have confidence in us.”

| < ♥️ > |

While Eddie was playing his guitar, you saw a shadowy figure in the distance. The figure was far too small to be Vecna, but that didn’t put you at ease by any means. You were attempting to remain focused on the fight in front of you, but something about this figure was throwing you off. Your fingertips were buzzing with familiar soul electricity and you were losing your concentration by the second. The figure sharply turned toward your demobat fight and started barreling toward you. Your feet stayed locked in place, for a reason unknown to you at the time, you felt safe with the figure approaching, not frightened. As it came closer, you realized why you felt so at home with it. It was Billy– he had his hunting rifle out in front of him and was helping to pick off some of the smaller creatures in your fight. “Steve!” You called. 

Your boyfriend looked toward you for just a second before running your way. “What’s happening?”

“Look off in the distance, it’s Billy! It’s really fucking Billy!”

“Holy shit!” He replied. Billy had the gun in his hands that he had been cleaning in your visions. He was using it to pick off demobats one at a time. Steve was watching your reaction closely. “Go get him, I’ll stay with Eddie and the kids.”

“Are you sure?” You responded without thinking. 

He nodded. “We aren’t leaving here without him, not again.”

You kissed his cheek quickly, “Thank you. Keep the kids safe.”

“Can do. I’m a kickass babysitter.”

You smiled at him before turning your attention back to Billy’s figure. He hadn’t seen you or the kids yet, he was too focused on the monsters in his path. You used your powers to cut your way through the monsters between you. In that moment, nothing else mattered to you, your boy was back and nothing would stop you from rescuing him. As you got closer, you called out, “Billy! Billy, I can’t believe we found you in here!”

He whipped around at the sound of your voice. It’s cliche, but the sound of your voice was like music to his ears after being alone in the Upside Down for so long. “Y/n?” He said as he shot the last demobat in his reach. “Is that really you?” 

You approached him slowly and nodded. “Yes, love, it’s me. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“Look out!” He shouted. He aimed the gun just over your shoulder and shot a demobat that had snuck up on you. It managed to injure your shoulder a bit, but Billy’s perfect aim saved you from serious harm. 

“Son of a bitch. That hurts like a motherfucker,” you cursed as you held your arm tightly to your body. Billy’s eyes scanned around for any more danger before closing the gap between you. He pulled you into his chest roughly and continued picking off the incoming demobats with his gun. You were incredibly impressed– he had near-perfect aim with every shot that left his weapon. “You have to pay more attention to your surroundings, Doll,” Billy scolded playfully. There was a small hint of fear in his words, even though he tried to play it off. “We need to get to shelter. We’re screwed if we stay out in the open like this.”

You shook your head. “We can’t leave the others!”

“The others? Who else is in this hellscape?”

“Everyone. Steve, Dustin, Robin, Max, and so on–” 

“We need a quick exit so we can get your wound looked at. We can catch back up with the others. I can’t let anything else happen to you. I’m pissed that you even got this wound under my watch.” He huffed in annoyance. Somehow he was exactly the same as the last time you saw him, but much more vigilant simultaneously. “What the fuck?” Billy said. 

You followed his eyeline to a door that had appeared in the middle of the mess of the battle. It was closest to you and the farthest from Eddie, who was looking much more worse for ware than the last time you had checked on him. Steve and the kids all appeared exhausted. Something about the door was vaguely familiar so you pulled away from Billy, grabbed his hand, and started running toward it. You called out to Steve and told him to retreat as you pulled on the doorknob. A swarm of demobats tried to follow you, but you slammed the door shut before any of them could reach you. 

You and Billy were just a pile of limbs on the floor of a hallway. You both were panting and covered in dirt. The only sounds you could hear were the noises of your ragged breath. You looked at Billy and cupped his face in your hands. His hand wrapped itself around your wrist. As you sat there, everything hit you and you felt your eyes welling up with tears. “I am so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Doll. I never thought I would make it out of there alive. I don’t even know how I got there. I remember being pierced in the stomach by the Mind Flayer and next thing I knew I was in that fuckin’ place. The only thing that kept me going all that time was the hope of getting to see you again.” He ran his thumb over the skin of your wrist. “I can’t even being to explain the joy I felt when I saw you again.” His voice was soft and quiet. There was no one else around, but you could tell he really wanted to keep his words between the two of you. 

You were about to reply to him when you heard the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off. Billy instantly shuffled you so you were behind him and farther away from the gun. A surge of joy filled your chest when you looked up and saw Sam, Dean, and Cas standing a little ways away down the hall. The familiarity of the door was because it was a doorway into the bunker– the memory was just foggy because it had been almost 2 years since the last time you set foot in it. “I don’t know what kind of monsters you are to have been able to slip past the bunker’s wards, but pretending to be my kid is really low,” Dean said. He was the one holding the gun. 

Hearing his voice made your heart soar, even though he was threatening your life. “Dean– Dean it’s me! It’s really me! I’m no more monstrous than usual. I promise! Test me, I can prove it to you!” You scrambled to your feet, a cloud of dirt kicked up around you as you did so. You moved your clothes away from your injured shoulder, showing off the rapidly healing wound. You were mostly human with a bit of angelic magic– just as you always had been. Dean lowered the gun. “Kid? How did you get back? Who’s the douchebag with you?” 

You didn’t answer any of his questions, you just ran straight at him and took him into a tight hug. “I never thought I would see you again. I’ve missed you all so much.” 

Dean hugged you back pensively. “It’s only been a few weeks. I’m sure you’ve managed alright without us. Cas said he left you somewhere pretty safe.”

You pulled back. “A few weeks?”

He nodded. “Yeah?”

“Try a few years, Dean. I’ve been gone for a few years .”

“What? How is that possible?” He asked. 

Cas let out a long sigh. “I was afraid this might happen. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“What are you talking about? What happened, Cas?” Dean questioned.

“I dropped Y/n in another time period to keep them safe, but as I feared, it’s been longer for them than it has for us. It happens sometimes with time travel– things get mixed up. I’m just glad you’re mostly in one piece,” Cas replied. “Let me see your shoulder. I’ll heal it up for you.” 

Dean looked furious, but he let you go so Cas could tend to your wound. “I’m Billy by the way. You must be Dean, Sam, and Cas. I’ve heard a lot of stories about you three. It’s good to finally meet you,” Billy said as he stuck out his hand for Dean to shake. Dean took it cautiously. You saw him eyeing you– you knew you were going to have some explaining to do at a later time. 

Dean shook Billy’s hand. “Good to meet you, Billy. Thank you for looking after Y/n. I saw you put yourself in the line of fire instead of them. That’s bold.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” 

| < ♥️ > |

You didn’t care that Dean, Cas, and Sam were watching you; when you saw Steve again you ran into his arms. You nearly knocked him over with the sheer force of your hug. He chuckled deeply and wrapped his arms around you equally as tight. “I’m so happy you’re alright, Darlin’. When you didn’t come out with us I was afraid we would never be able to get you back.” 

You explained to Sam, Dean, Billy, and Cas that Steve was also your boyfriend and the whole situation of Billy in the Upside Down. You didn’t care about any weird looks you all got, you were thrilled when Billy joined you and Steve’s hug. “I love you both so much, I’m so glad we’re all here.”

| < ♥️ > |

As you watched Hawkins burn, you knew the fight was far from over. However, you looked over your shoulder at your team and your heart grew warm. Not only did you have your slew of chosen family members from Hawkins on your side– you also had Dean, Sam, and Castiel right there with you. The fire roaring was terrifying, but Steve had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and Billy had his arm around your waist. Eddie was holding Steve’s free hand and you could feel him gently leaning against you. Dean ruffled your hair and Cas moved a little closer to you. Somewhere, deep in your soul, you knew everything was going to be okay.

_______________

Tags: @whoringrove @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @urofficial-cyberslut

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[rowanspn]

[zacharyleigh316]

the haunting cry of a hollow heart

the haunting cry of a hollow heart | E | 8.6K | Read here (or below cut)

Castiel, despite his interest in all things other, despite his favor for the fantastical, his love for reading stories and fairytales, despite his faith and religion, he didn’t believe in the supernatural. --

Though, regrettably, much to his chagrin, perhaps if he had, he wouldn’t have been so unprepared. --

Castiel, despite his interest in all things other, despite his favor for the fantastical, his love for reading stories and fairytales, despite his faith and religion, he didn’t believe in the supernatural.

He believed in the afterlife, believed in God, angels (he was named after one, after all) and demons, Heaven and hell. But that was where his belief both started and ended. He didn’t believe in those creatures the very stories he loved to read warned him about, the creatures that shape-shifted, or sucked humans dry. The creatures that feasted on dead flesh, or came from other lands, other universes.

Though, regrettably, much to his chagrin, perhaps if he had, he wouldn’t have been so unprepared. However, less regrettably, it did put him in the position of crossing paths with a man who, by all accounts would have never known he’d existed, a handsome athlete who ran in completely different crowds—or so he presumed originally—a man who he only knew in name until the very object of his disbelief brought them together.

Castiel was working late in the library that night, when he heard Charlie’s bright voice greet him from a distance. 

“Yo, what’s up?” She had a grin on her face, of which he could hear before he even saw her.

Not that it was very hard, even over the stacks of books he was carting around, and through the thick bindings of ones already shelved, her bright red bob could be seen coming across campus.

“Charlie.” He said in lieu of a proper hello, but his tone was no less fond. 

“Look at what I found.” 

Castiel didn’t have time to ask before she was thrusting a piece of paper to his chest, a smug look on her face.

“And by found, naturally you mean…” he asked skeptically, pulling the paper away from himself and reading it.

“This is a flyer for the gala. The same flyer that’s been posted to the events billboard since the beginning of the semester.”

“Okay, so I might have taken-“

“Pilfered-“

Charlie playfully shoved his shoulder, and shot him a glare, without any of its usual bite, had it been directed toward anyone but him. 

“-Taken,” she repeated, purposefully ignoring his correction, “from one of the boards, yes, but there’s so many of them, it’s not like they’ll miss one.”

Castiel hummed disapprovingly, but let her continue.

“I thought we could go!”

At that, Castiel furrowed his brow. “Go? To the Valentine’s Day gala?”

“Yeah! C’mon, it'll be fun. We’ll stuff our faces with free food, and watch people get shitfaced and make fools of themselves on the dance floor. Think of all the blackmail.”

“And with whom are you thinking of bringing as your date?” 

“You, silly, duh! We’ll go together. As friends of course. Because you’re dreamy, but definitely not my type. Seeing as you’re not a girl.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’re not my type either.” He muttered, handing her back the flyer.

The ‘seeing as I like guys’ went unsaid, but Charlie smiled anyway. They both knew this of one another of course, having been friends since freshman year, when Charlie bounded into his life uninvited but no less welcome, but Charlie liked to bring it up every now and then, “as a reminder” she had said once, flourishing it with a wink. Though, it was her odd idiosyncrasies that made her so likable by even someone like Castiel himself—not that he was entirely lacking in those either, except, people usually steered clear of him for his. 

“And who knows, maybe there’ll be some hot people there we can hit on. Wins all around the board.” Charlie added jovially, taking the flyer back, only to wave it about the air as she gestured excitedly.

“You make it sound like we’re already going.”

She smiled at him guiltily, and Castiel couldn’t help but sigh.

“Charlie…”

“Don’t be mad, okay? Promise you won’t be mad?”

“That depends. What did you do?” He asked, though by the look on his friend’s face, he was certain he already knew the answer. 

“About that…I…might have already…bought us tickets. To go.”

“Charlie…” Castiel said again, not bothering to hide the weariness in his voice.

“You said you wouldn’t be mad!”

“Actually I said it depends. But that’s not the point. You never asked if I would want to attend.”

“Well, that’s because I knew you’d say no.” Charlie snorted, not looking all that sorry for it.

Castiel knew she wasn’t.

“You don’t do anything fun unless we make you, and this is me making you. Besides, you can’t say you’d rather be working late hours in the library of all places, all by yourself, again, when you can be hanging out with the coolest people on the planet! And you know I’m right.”

Castiel sighed again, this time in, albeit reluctant, acquiescence. Not that Charlie would take no for an answer, anyway.

She grinned at the droop of his shoulders, knowing full well that was him giving up the fight. The queen, per usual, proved her right to the title; Castiel was no stranger to loss when it came to arguing with Charlie. He was certain no one was. She got her way in the end, eventually.

“Fine.”

“Yes! No one deserves to be alone on Valentine’s Day, Castiel. Even jaded history majors with a work study in the university library, such as yourself.”

“I’m not jaded,” he defended, turning back to his long since forgotten task of shelving the returns. “My people skills are just…rusty.” 

“Unless they learned to talk back, which would be super cool by the way, burying yourself in work with books as your only company isn’t going to help.” 

That, Castiel surmised, was a lesson he knew all too well.

Ever since her reveal that they would be attending the gala, courtesy to none other than herself, Charlie hadn’t shut up about it. Every chance she got she talked about it with the excitement erring on that of a small child, that Castiel couldn’t help but allow it to bleed into himself, despite his earlier grievances. He still had his doubts of course, feeling rather under qualified for a social occasion such as a dance, but it really did beat staying in library, or worse, in his dorm, all by himself, with nothing to do whilst his friends had fun living life—he’d also rather not have to hear the couple in the room beside him have raucous sexual relations all night. He, too, has learned that lesson the hard way.

“We should go shopping this weekend, make it a whole thing.” Charlie suggested to the table, before stealing some of the fries off Castiel’s plate, having finished her own minutes prior, and popping them into her mouth.

Gabriel snorted. “What makes you think we don’t already have outfits?” 

Meg, who was pretending not to listen, but so clearly was, looked up from her phone with a smirk. “We’ve all seen inside your closet, that’s what.”

“I’ll have you know that everything in there is peak fashion.”

Meg raised a manicured brow. “To whom exactly? The dead guy you inherited it second hand from?” 

“Hey! Thrifting is very efficient, and cost effective. You know, for a college student.”

“You’re a graduate student, mastering in business management, I hardly think you need to be frugal.” She argued, and Gabe crossed his arms, pouting.

“Cassie, you’re just going to let her be mean to me?!”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Meg didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

Gabriel gasped, looking thoroughly offended. He shook his head, and sullenly turned back to his own food. 

“Don’t worry, Gabe, we’ll pick something real nice for you. Oh, we can even do a montage!” 

“Sorry, Red. You may be able to get me to tag along at the mall with you, but I’m not going to be participating in that.” Meg said defiantly, her mind already made.

“But…montage.” 

Gabe scoffed, muttering into his lunch. “Forget trying to convince this one, Charles, she’s stubborn. Like a mu-OW!” 

Meg glared at Gabe, who was now rubbing his shin, from across the table. “Finish that, and die.”

“We’ll be there.” Castiel said suddenly, interrupting his friend’s antics. “Unless you’d rather show up naked.” He said this to his brother.

“Ew. Don’t give him ideas.” Charlie scrunched up her face in disgust, and Gabriel let out a laugh.

“Hey! There’d be a lot of people who’d enjoy that kind of show.”

“In your dreams.” Meg said, at the same time of Castiel’s, “not if it got you kicked out.” 

“You lot are so boring.” Charlie whined, finishing off Castiel’s fries too. “Regardless of whether or not you guys are doing a montage, I’m making you watch me do one.”

The four of them set out that weekend to go shopping for outfits, and, although they shared their initial reluctance at lunch all those days prior to their outing, Charlie did, in the end, get her montage(s). Castiel, despite feeling foolish whilst modeling his various selection of outfits—all chosen meticulously for him by Charlie and Meg because he “couldn’t be trusted to put together a coherent look that both fit properly and wasn’t a boring color”—couldn’t have denied his red headed friend in the first place. By the two additional shows they got alongside his and Charlie’s, he figured it was much the same for Meg and Gabriel too. 

Castiel wouldn’t be incorrect in presuming that Charlie already knew this, but he’d be damned if he told her that she was right, that he had fun, of course he did, in time that would have otherwise been spent in solitude brought upon by no one but himself, lest he inflate her ego any further.

With four new outfits under their metaphorical belts, they left their shopping spree in good spirits. It was only natural then, that the overall good mood wouldn’t last, and the playful camaraderie established between the friends would change the second they got back to campus, to blue and red flashing lights. 

“What…do you think happened?” Charlie asked, her expression mirroring what Castiel was sure all their faces looked like in that moment. 

He shook his head in lieu of answering, and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. 

As they neared the quad, they merged silently with the ever growing group of onlookers, most of whom were peers and faculty, whispers amongst the sea of people seeming all too loud over the eerie blanket of quiet. The cops, separated from them only by a thin barrier of police tape, stood just along edges of the area they cordoned off, no doubt keeping the crowd at bay. They offered no explanation, though Castiel could barely make out the murmured “stay back”s over the dread in his gut. 

He did hear the sharp inhale beside him, however, that was Meg, he was certain, closely followed by a gasp, Charlie, and when he looked over, he saw why.

There, lying just beyond, was a body.

The grass was dark, no doubt stained crimson from blood, and the large gaping wound, from where the skull was bashed in, from which could be none other than its source, was still seeping, still fresh. The eyes stared out, wide and unseeing, as Castiel stared back in abject horror. 

That was when he saw him. Jaw set and arms crossed, just across the way on the other side, stood Dean Winchester. 

The man looked determined, not surprised at all to see the dead body of a classmate, in fact, and Castiel couldn’t help but watch, watch as Dean seemed to assess, seemed to study the crime scene in front of them, as if he was filing it away for later. Castiel recognized that look, because it was one he shared whenever he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Dean looked up then, like he could feel Castiel’s gaze on him, and their eyes met. The moment they did, Castiel remembered—albeit rather shamefully—the way stomach flipped for an entirely different reason than the horrific sight before them. Gabe’s iron grip on his arm was the only thing able to pull his attention away, and so he took the time to check in on the well-being of his friends, but by the time Castiel got the chance to look back, Dean was already gone.

To say the suicide—it was classified as a suicide—stirred up the atmosphere on campus, would be an understatement. Castiel couldn’t remember a time where he’d felt so shaken in his faith, so rocked to the core, raw and open and vulnerable. It was on everyone’s minds, and on everyone’s lips, and it was all anyone heard about the next few days. They didn’t cancel classes, or work, the world still went on—even though their fellow classmate’s’ was cut short, Castiel reminded himself—everything proceeding as normal, as if someone hadn’t just died, and perhaps that was worse.

Castiel didn’t know what he expected, or why he thought it would go differently, but he prayed and prayed and prayed for peace for the lost soul. Still, he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Nor could he get a certain cutting figure, but that was neither here nor there.

The very little information he had was acquired secondhand from the tail-ends of gossip, at work in the library. Apparently, or so the running theory was, the young woman, in a bout of madness, bashed her head against the tree until she dropped. Another student on their way back to their dorm found her and called the proper authorities. Castiel couldn’t imagine being the one to find the body, and he’d seen it for himself that night. He also heard that the woman’s boyfriend was beside himself with grief, most understandably, that not even he believed she would kill herself, that they were happy. She’d begged him to take her to the gala and he’d agreed. 

Castiel also heard that her brains had been sucked out, but he was certain that was just hearsay; she had severe head trauma, after all, it probably only seemed like her brains were gone, when in reality they were just…well.

Shaking his head from his musings, if they’d even be called that, he got back to work, trying to lose himself in the repetitiveness of routine. Charlie had been unnaturally quiet the past few days, the dance quickly overshadowed by the recent events that transpired, and none of them felt it right to change the subject either. Castiel understood, for he was much the same, but he relished in being able to escape feeling for however long his shift was.

“Uh, hey, do you have any books on Gaelic mythology and folklore?” 

Castiel paused what he was doing, and turned to greet the voice—definitely not Charlie this time—only to meet a pair of recently familiar, but quite beautiful up close, green eyes. 

“Oh. Hello, Dean.” He said dumbly, but was rewarded with an amused smirk.

“Heya, Cas. Well, do you?”

Castiel furrowed his brow. “What.”

Dean chuckled. “Have books. On Gaelic folklore.” 

Castiel inwardly cursed his ineptitude, and allowed himself to blink, forcing his basic motor functions to, well, function. 

“Yes. We do. You know who I am?”

Dean regarded him curiously, brow raised. “Well, yeah. You’re friends with Charlie. We’ve never had the pleasure of meeting before, but she does talk about her other friends.”

“Oh.” He said again, finding himself at a loss for words.

Dean didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he still seemed rather amused by it, much to Castiel’s displeasure. 

Instead of dwelling on it, however, Castiel abandoned his cart and gestured to Dean for him to follow, leading the other man to the section where he’d find what he was looking for. 

“If you need anything else, let me know.”

He didn’t ask why an engineering student would need a book on Gaelic folklore, nor did Dean offer up an explanation. 

“Awesome, thanks Cas.”

The nickname stole Castiel’s breath away with a familiarity he wasn’t aware they had, because they didn’t, not really—Dean was just friendly it seemed—also did he say he knew Charlie, she never said anything why didn’t she say anything—and he stood there, lingering longer than he should, awkwardly shifting in place.

“I’m…going to go…now.” He announced unhelpfully, and Dean had the decency not to comment on it.

“You do that.” He replied with a smile, and turned his attention to the shelves.

Castiel, released from whatever hold the other man had on him the second his gaze was elsewhere and no longer pointed at him, quickly made his way back to finish his work, lest he embarrass himself further.

“I wasn’t aware you knew Dean Winchester.” He grumbled to Charlie at dinner that night.

“Dean? He’s my handmaiden, of course I know Dean.”

Gabriel snorted. “Handmaiden?”

“There’s a story to that, I can tell.” Meg said, amused.

Charlie chuckled, a welcomed sound that the group hadn’t realized they missed until they heard it.

“There is, but I’m not telling. A queen’s gotta have her secrets.” 

Meg clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and Gabriel groaned, complaining about “being edged, and not in the fun way” which promptly earned a smirk from Meg, a loud, boisterous laugh from Charlie, and a look of disgust from Castiel. 

There was another ‘suicide’ reported that night.

Castiel was in the hall heading to his religious studies class when he next ran into Dean Winchester. He couldn’t fathom how he went his entire college career without so much as seeing a glimpse of the man, and now he saw him thrice in a matter of a few days. All because their peers appeared to be being picked off one by one. 

There were now an accumulated three deaths since the first, and Castiel’s doubt had steadily increased right alongside the creeping uptick in body counts. He detested his wavering faith in the police, but there was only so many ‘suicides’ exacted in the same manner that they couldn’t be categorized as ‘suicides’ anymore. Two could possibly pass a coincidence, but three was a pattern; he knew that much. He had pondered, however, the reluctance in which the police seemed to label the ‘suicides’ as ‘murders’, but was only met with unease. For there to be murder, which Castiel was already (mostly) convinced was the case, would naturally mean for there to be a murderer.

But wouldn’t he want to know if his life was in danger? He wasn’t sure which option was scarier, but he was positive he’d rather be afraid and knowledgeable than ignorant but afraid anyway. So it was a dangerous doubt, Castiel surmised, since the only conclusion it led to was the authorities withholding the truth, regardless if it was due to their own incompetence or ulterior motives.

Dean looked furious, expression blazoned with a fierce determination, fiery and bright, even from the distance where Castiel stood. It was a devastatingly beautiful look on him, he noted sourly, seeing as his stupid heart couldn’t have picked a worse time to seek out another, and form a ridiculous infatuation that, Castiel knew, would go nowhere, regardless of their connection with Charlie.

He was talking with a much younger man, though, with the boy’s height, one wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance, and immediately Castiel knew this was Dean‘s little brother, Sam Winchester—a freshman in pre-law. Castiel recalled seeing him about, since a lot of their classes were in the same building.

“I’m pretty sure I know what it is, I just don’t know who it is.” Dean growled, crossing his arms in a posing figure, much like the one on the night they first met. 

“We’ll figure it out, Dean. We always do.” Sam reassured, looking all the worse for wear as he said it, however. 

Like he was trying to convince himself too.

“Yeah, but how many people have to die before then, Sammy?” Dean replied wearily, a horrifying dark look casting a dark shadow across Sam’s face. 

Castiel’s chest seized in terror as he witnessed it; he’d never seen such a look on anyone’s face before, a look that, with resounding clarity, should not have ever had a place on the younger Winchester brother’s face. 

“Oh hey, Cas.” Dean greeted as he noticed his approach, shooting a look at his brother before his face slipped into an easy grin.

Castiel noticed he did so with practiced familiarity, as if he was used to putting on a mask, but didn’t mention it.

“Cas?” Sam questioned, at the same time Castiel himself said, “hello, Dean. Sam.” With a cordial nod.

Were they actually investigating the incident? What business did two brothers have in a series of deaths? What could they do that the police already weren’t?

He didn’t think it wise to ask them any of these questions either.

“Hey, Castiel.” Sam said with a little wave, a small, friendly smile smoothing out his expression the same way his brother’s did.

“Just dropping off my baby bro to class.” Dean lied, just as easy as the rest of him, and reached across to ruffle Sam’s shaggy hair.

Sam squawked indignantly, knocking Dean’s hand aside with a rising blush to his cheeks. Dean chuckled at his brother’s embarrassment, which was an action definitely more genuine than anything else previously had been. Castiel had experience with this, after all, being a little brother himself, to Gabriel especially.

“You heading off to one of your smarty pants classes too, Cas?” 

Castiel raised a brow. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I’m heading to my religious studies class, yes.”

Dean chuckled. “‘S’nothing, Cas. Just teasing you. Y’know, cuz you and Sam are both nerds, attending all your boring nerdy classes.” 

Sam shot a glare at his brother, and Cas tilted his head to the side, curiously. 

“Interesting. You seem to regard us as nerds, but you too are one. Perhaps not in the same way, but I would consider you a nerd most of all, considering your area of expertise.” 

Sam snorted, his glare morphing into a smug grin as Dean spluttered. Apparently he had not expected Castiel to come back with such a lethal rebuttal.

“Damn, Cas.” Dean whistled, and Sam nodded his agreement.

“I’ve been telling him that for years.” 

“Unfortunately I’ll be late if I stay any longer. Goodbye, Dean. Sam.” 

He nodded his apologies as he said goodbye, and passed them by on the way to his class.

“See ya, Cas.” Dean said after him, before grunting in what Cas could only assume was an elbow to his side from Sam.

“Cas, huh?” He asked, amused.

“Shaddup!”

“I can’t believe we’re still going to this damned dance, after everything.” Meg mused, wrapping a long, thin section of her brunette hair around her curling iron.

Gabriel snorted, adjusting the cuffs of his creme colored blazer, as he stared at himself in the mirror. They were all getting ready in Charlie’s room, their hangout spot more often than not, since she bought out the double as a premium single (which meant more space and privacy), and could reasonably, and comfortably, fit them all. Though, Castiel shared the sentiment, and often wondered too, why they still planned to go.

It made him uneasy to think that it was just another excuse to sweep things under the rug and pretend everything was normal by the administration, since, aside from the plethora of grief counselors at their disposal, they hadn’t really done much in assuaging any actual grief by divulging in some sort of explanation why people were dying (read: being murdered, he begrudgingly admitted to himself, because people didn’t experience the same bouts of madness that drove them to suddenly kill themselves, all in the same exact manner as the one that succeeded them). He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t see it himself. 

Safety, Castiel thought sullenly, apparently came second to whatever the reason was for the university’s decision to proceed as if nothing happened. 

He was also still unsure what the Winchesters had to do with any of it.

“You don’t sound too displeased.” Gabriel commented, smoothing invisible creases on his maroon turtleneck.

Meg shrugged. “Do I like that people are dying? Of course not. But I suppose being distracted by a dance is better than focusing on the fact that life is short, and death is inevitable.”

Gabe groaned, and Charlie made a sound of discontent.

“Okay, yeah, bummer. I mean, at least we have each other, right? It can still be fun…”

Meg grinned, cat like. “Oh I definitely plan to still have fun.”

“Get laid you mean?” Gabriel teased, which only emboldened her. 

Meg turned around, arms opened wide as she presented herself, devastatingly gorgeous in a satin crimson dress, with a black, mesh overlay, and a, in Castiel’s opinion, leg slit dangerously close to her upper thigh. It left little to be desired, but he couldn’t deny she looked amazing in it. Of course it wasn’t a surprise to any of them, since she’d chosen this particular dress during their shopping trip, that seemed so long ago now, rather than just last week. 

“Have you seen me? Getting laid is half the fun. The remaining survivors won’t know what hit ‘em.” She all but purred, and Gabriel shook his head.

“Can’t believe you’d think about sex during these hard times.”

“Oh, and you aren’t?” Charlie quipped back, and Meg laughed.

He was glad his friends could find light in the darkness, but it didn’t sit right with him to participate. He did have the heart to. It didn’t feel right, when a guy lost his girlfriend, and then another girl lost hers. When another person lost their partner right after. And then, just the other day, another guy lost his boyfriend. It didn’t seem like the right time for anything, let alone love.

“Clarence, you okay? You’re awfully quiet over there.” Meg asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“I know it sounds kinda fucked up, but the situation is kinda fucked up.” Charlie added, reaching over to pat shoulder. 

He loathed to be the one to bring down the mood so he forced a smile. “I know, it’s alright. I’m…okay.” 

It was a lie, on every account, and they all knew it, but thankfully none of them pressed him further.

“Well, it’s settled then. We’re gonna go to the gala, just like planned, and we’re gonna have fun, stuff our faces, make fun of drunk people, and maybe get our flirt on.” Charlie said with a determined air of finality, and the rest of their group nodded. 

“Are we all ready?” She asked, having been the first to finish, but looking nothing less than graceful in her fuchsia pantsuit.

Castiel looked down at himself, feeling a bit self conscious in black, slim fitting slacks, and a dusty rose colored dress shirt, his blazer a matching black with light, pink floral patterns, but both Meg and Charlie assured him when he tried it on, that he looked ‘hot’ in the outfit. He wasn’t all too sure he would have used those words, nor did he have desire to look ‘hot’, but he accepted the praise for what it was, and bought it with encouragement from all three of his friends.

He nodded reluctantly, and they all filed out of Charlie’s dorm, looking ready to take on the night. He tried not to imagine the walk to the campus ballroom as a death march to the gallows. Tried to ignore the impending doom settling deep in his gut, to think positive thoughts, about spending time with his friends having fun at the dance, what had been Charlie’s original selling point, when she approached him at work—which seemed like forever ago now—and proposed the idea of going to the dance in the first place.

He failed.

Castiel didn’t know precisely when it happened, but, at some point during the night, he and his friends got separated. He had excused himself to get some air outside in the hallway, away from prying eyes and warm bodies, tightly packed together on the dance floor, at cocktail tables, and hidden in not so secret corners. 

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, when the sound of distant thudding reached his ears, just under the sound of the music, like an undercurrent to the pulsing bass of whatever was playing in the ballroom. 

At first, he attempted to ignore it, truly he did. But it continued, louder and louder and more aggressive; it was too far to discern anything, so, in what must have been a fit of insanity, for the serious lapse in judgment, he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward the sound, curiosity getting the better of him. 

What Castiel witnessed then was no short of terrifying. He rounded the corner, and nearly lost all his breath, watching in frozen terror as someone bashed their head repeatedly into the glass window of a classroom, his knees almost buckling at the wet crunch of their skull cracking against the surface of the glass, icy fractures running up and out like veins in a splintered web as it, too, broke under pressure.

The person was crying, screaming really, hands cupped over bloodied ears, begging for someone to “make it stop, please just make it stop!” When, seemingly all at once, it did.

With one last sounding thump, they slid down to floor, smearing blood and brain matter against the pane of glass, and Castiel was helpless to do anything but watch, an unfortunate bystander to such a vile display, like an out of body experience that rattled his very soul, whilst his real, tangible body, this corporeal form, stay firmly rooted where it was. 

But nothing, and he meant nothing, would have ever prepared him for the absolutely repulsive, ghastly looking, free-floating creature that materialized out of nowhere, before it stuck its long, equally repulsive tongue into the stranger’s head, and (honest to god) slurped their brains out. If Castiel thought what had just transpired was hard enough to stomach, it was nothing compared to watching this…this thing feast on someone who, only minutes prior, had been a living, breathing human.

Eyes wide and full of fearful tears, mind screaming at him to “move, just move, get out of here, run!” Castiel managed to take a step back. Unfortunately for Castiel, the movement was enough to rouse the monster from its food, dead, milky white eyes zeroing in on him and once again stealing his breath away. Choking on a silent gasp, Castiel had just enough time to see it unhinge its jaw, before he finally forced himself into a sprint back the way he came, stumbling only when an ear piercing shriek sounded from behind him, so loud it shook the walls.

An unnatural mist he hadn’t noticed before, sluggishly seeped from the tiled floor, surrounding his ankles, pouring endlessly up and out, creeping along the walls and pooling across ceiling, and out of it came the screaming beast, somehow right in front of him, blocking Castiel’s path. He cried out in pain as it screamed even louder, the sound reverberating in his skull, causing his vision to blur. He reached up to cup his ears, his heart lurching at the warm fluid he felt trickle against his palms. 

He realized that, and perhaps a bit too late, but again with resounding clarity, that this was what had killed all those other people. That this was what was going to kill him.

“Hey, you ugly son of a bitch!”

Castiel snapped his eyes open—when had he closed them, he couldn’t remember—and watched the creature tear its attention away from him, snarling toward the intruder.

“Get away from him!” 

Castiel flinched at the sound of a shotgun round, heard the shells clatter to the floor as the shooter reloaded, but was unable to look away from the thing in front of him as it dissolved into whatever before his eyes, just as quickly as it appeared. And yet, Castiel dared not take a breath, in fear that it would return because he had.

“Is…is it dead?” He asked, realizing the screaming had stopped, despite the residual ringing in his ear. 

“Unfortunately, no. Only pure gold can kill these things.” Dean answered, guiltily.

“Right.”

“But not to worry. Rock-salt rounds are enough to stall them for a bit. Banshees take longer to recover than other spirits, so we have some time.”

Castiel said nothing, and Dean looked over at him, worry in his expression. He reached out, a comforting hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“You okay, Cas? I know that can be…a lot your first time.” 

“First time?” Castiel muttered, brow furrowed.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean had the gall to appear abashed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Y’know, your first encounter with the…supernatural.”

Castiel hated how he noticed how good Dean looked, even like that.

“The supernatural…” he parroted, as if trying it on for size. 

And suddenly it all clicked in place. He glanced down at the gun, a sawed-off shotgun to be precise, in Dean’s hand, the one that had been used to blast away the banshee. He’d called it a banshee, a spirit, a malevolent fae spirit, from Gaelic folklore. Dean came to the library asking for a book on Gaelic folklore. He’d caught Dean and Sam talking about the murders after that. He remembered the ease at which Dean wore his mask then, how the lie came as free as breathing. The fierce determination radiating from both men, a look that Dean held close to his heart the very moment their eyes locked across the quad on the night of the first, and one Castiel noticed every time they ran into one another thereafter. 

“Cas?”

“Dean.”

“Y-yeah?” Dean furrowed his brow, looking a bit put out by the lack of tone in Castiel’s voice, probably because he couldn’t read the situation anymore, but mostly concerned for, and about, Cas.

“You were investigating. The deaths.” A statement, not a question.

“Uh, kinda? Me and my brother we…hunt the supernatural.”

Castiel recalled how comfortable Dean looked when using the shotgun, the speed in which he reloaded after taking a shot, and hummed. 

“A banshee. Did you hear it too then? You knew what it was.”

“Not exactly. I knew what it was because of the nature of the kills. Only its targets can hear its scream.” 

Castiel closed his eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I heard it…”

“…”

Castiel opened his eyes, taking in the knowing look on Dean’s face, seeing the guilt and concern and anger—the latter not directed at him—there, all at once, wrapped into one gut wrenching expression.

“Am I going to die?”

“No.” Dean snapped immediately, sounding so sure that Castiel couldn’t help the flare of hope in his chest.

“Their screams are usually a death sentence, Dean. I watched…I watched that person get their brains sucked out. After they…killed themselves. It’s how the others died too, isn’t it? 

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, shaking his head, “sorry you had to see that, Cas. It’s true I was too late to save them, but I will save you. I promise.”

Castiel didn’t feel like reminding Dean not to make promises he couldn’t keep. He really hoped that he could.

Castiel was in the middle of contemplating how mad his friends would be if he didn’t get to say goodbye, if he just left and disappeared without a word, when the walls of the hallway he and Dean retreated to (further, and at a safe distance, away from the ballroom) began to rattle. The lights flickered angrily, and the same mist from before returned, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Castiel heard its screams before anything else, however, and already knew it was back.

It materialized behind them, and all for Dean’s fast reflexes, he was still a tad too slow to react, and certainly felt it as his back made contact with the floor a good few feet away, after the banshee tossed him aside without even touching him. 

“Dean!” Castiel called after him, only to be brought to his knees by the shrieking to his left, its rancid breath curling against his skin, and raising the hair on the back of his neck. 

He grunted in pain, his ears ringing anew, and blindly struck out with the iron poker Dean had lent him, slumping when it, just as Dean said, disappeared. The relief was momentary, and it quickly reappeared beside Dean, who was still trying to grasp his bearings, looking downright pissed at being thwarted again.

“Son of a bitch-“ Dean’s curse was cut short, or rather, drowned out by another rattling screech, right in Dean’s face. 

It reached out and pinned him down, and he turned his head, trying to wriggle out of its grip. 

“Ugh! Ever heard of breath mint, lady?” 

“Dean…” Castiel breathed, exasperated. He never ceased to be amazed by Dean’s tenacity to joke in the face of danger (literally).

Dean knocked their foreheads together, catching the banshee off guard, and managed to toss it off him, quickly grabbing his shotgun and taking a shot before it had time to recover. It exploded in a fiery cloud of whatever it was made of, and Castiel managed to pick himself up off of the floor, helping Dean up after making his way over to him. 

“Thanks.” He said breathlessly, giving his hand a squeeze. 

Castiel nodded, and didn’t fail to notice the way their hands lingered, before they dropped back down to their collective sides.

“Did you and Sam ever figure out why it’s here?” 

Dean snorted. “Yeah. Our friendly neighborhood banshee is killing people because she’s jealous.”

“Jealous? Of whom?” Castiel asked, trying to make sense of it.

“Us. You know. Lovers, halves of a pair. Whatever. Guess Valentine’s Day stirred up some resentment, some bad memories.” Dean clarified with a shrug.

Castiel knew it wasn’t what Dean meant, when he said ‘us’, but he tried not to blush all the same.

“That’s why they were all people in a relationship?”

“Bingo. Banshees hunt in a particular place until there’s nothing left, and a college campus is basically a feast of couples, so our friend would have been well fed on us for a while, if it wasn’t for Sammy and I.” Dean sighed.

“Just wish we figured it out sooner.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Dean. But if what you said is true, why is she after me?”

“Eh, you got in her way. That, or you’re in love.” He said wryly, and at that Castiel did blush.

“Plus Charlie told me she signed you all up for the gala. Everyone who died so far was on that list. Could be a coincidence but…” Dean trailed off and shrugged again, but shot a smile over to Cas.

“You look really good by the way. Sorry you got caught up in all this. You got all dressed up and now you’re missing the dance, trying to hunt a banshee with me. You didn’t even know this stuff existed until now, and all you’re getting out of it is a ruined outfit.”

Castiel snorted. “And my life. I think surely that’s worth more. Along with everyone else’s life. I couldn’t care less about an…outfit. It was nice though.”

Dean chuckled. “Makes sense.”

“Besides, I didn’t even want to go. To the dance. Charlie made me. My only regret is that I didn’t let her know where I would be. But would you believe me when I’d say I’d rather be hunting a banshee with you, than in there with all those people?

“What, not a people person, Cas?” 

Castiel shot him a deadpan look that made him laugh, and, despite himself, Cas found himself laughing along.

“Yeah. M’not either. Not really. Sure I talk a big game, but there’s only a few people who I can be real with, y’know?”

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, when the light above them exploded, and the banshee flew into them, dragging them across the hall and throwing them into the wall on the opposite end of where they had been standing. They crashed into each other, the impact stealing all the breath from his lungs, and they tumbled to the ground in a pile, the banshee’s resounding cackle rumbling the building like an earthquake.

Castiel rolled off of Dean, looking sullenly at their weapons that had clattered to the ground and skidded across the tile just out of reach.

“Damn, this bitch is really getting on my nerves.” Dean grunted out, almost a growl.

“I think I’m starting to share your sentiment.” Castiel managed, glaring at the imposing figure of the banshee, as she floated above them.

This time, when she screamed, both Cas and Dean cowered away from the sound.

“Really wish I had a golden blade right about now.” Dean joked, and Castiel groaned.

“Dean!”

“Sorry.” He apologized, though he didn’t sound that sorry to Castiel at all.

The banshee reached out and grabbed the lapels of Dean’s jacket, as if reminding them she was there, and picked him up off the ground. He scrambled for purchase, struggling in her tight grip, but his efforts were fruitless, and, as she raised them higher, her screaming never faltered.

Castiel reached up, wincing as the pads of his fingers pressed against the weeping wound at his forehead, and shakily lowered them again.

“If you wanted a dance, all you had to do was ask.” Dean quipped, which worked well in keeping her distracted. 

“But any more than that I’ll have to politely decline. Don’t believe the rumors about me, I need to be wined and dined a least once before I put out.” 

With a vindictive screech, Dean went flying again, but this time he was expecting it, and tumbled out of his fall. It wasn’t graceful by any means, but it still impressed Castiel. 

He managed to grab the poker, his shotgun stuck between him and the banshee, and swung it as she charged at him. The moment she disappeared, Castiel scrambled up and tossed the shotgun to Dean, before ducking behind him. 

Grateful that the attention was off him, he got to work, as Dean wildly swung at the banshee, her attacks becoming more ruthless as his hits became more predictable. He glanced up at the two of them, the mist acting as a smoke screen as she disappeared and reappeared, swirling around the poker as Dean used his baseball prowess to hit her every strike and lunge. It was ineffective in the long run, and hardly a long term solution, especially as Dean’s stamina wore out, but it helped Castiel by keeping her distracted once more.

When he finished, he stood up, fixing the banshee with a hard glare, the movement drawing her gaze to him.

“When it’s two against one, make sure to have eyes on both enemies.” He growled out, and as she charged after him, knocking an exhausted Dean off to the side, Castiel slammed his hand down on the blood sigil he made, activating both it and its copy on the opposite side of the hall.

It glowed bright, and in a matter of seconds, the banshee was dragged backward, and trapped against the wall, bound by the line of sigils. She roared, struggling against her invisible tether, mist swirling angrily, lights flickering like crazy, but she remained trapped, her fretting useless against the Celtic blood trapping spell. 

“Holy shit, Cas!” Dean exclaimed, both pride and awe in his tone. 

“You may be a hunter Dean, but you’re not the only one who reads.” 

Dean grinned. “Awesome. How did you know that would work?”

“To be fair, I didn’t. But I figured if banshees were real, then the magic used to trap them must be too. So, while you kept her distracted, I drew the sigils with my blood.”

“Awesome.” Dean repeated, and Castiel couldn’t help but smile back. 

Then, startling both of them out of whatever moment they were just about to have, the banshee suddenly burst into flames with a cry, crumbling like burnt paper into floating, ashy debris, until there was nothing left. 

“What-“ 

The trill of Dean’s phone signaled an incoming call, interrupting whatever Castiel was about to ask, and he looked over curiously as Dean fished the device out of his pocket. 

“It’s Sam.” He explained before picking up. “Sup, bitch. Took your sweet old time salting and burning the body, didn’t you?”

Castiel’s eyes widened. Salting and what-ing the body?! 

“Yeah, fucking thing almost took out me and Cas…” he blushed and glanced over at him, before quickly looking away, and lowering his voice.

“Uh, yeah, that Cas. I mean there’s no other, is there? Anyway Sammy, don’t change the subject. What took you so long?”

Dean snorted. “Excuses, excuses. What? Oh…uh…I don’t know if he’d be up for that.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “Well would you if you just got attacked by a banshee?” 

The features then smoothed from his face, and he grinned once more. “You shoulda seen him Sammy, he used his blood to draw these badass sigils and trap the banshee, it was awesome.” 

Castiel felt the heat rising in his cheeks, unsure how he felt about the Winchester brothers talking about him whilst he was right there, and only able to hear only half of the conversation, but mostly he was just embarrassed. 

“Yeah yeah, alright, I’ll ask him. Bye, bitch.” Dean hung up and fondly rolled his eyes, before walking over to Cas.

“Sorry about that. Sammy had only just finished digging…uh well, you don’t need to hear about that, haha, the less you know the better, but the banshee is banished for good now, and he should be on his way back, thank fuck, but he suggested that after we clean up, maybe we catch the end of the dance together, if you-mmph!”

Castiel surged forward, most likely encouraged by the adrenaline still pumping through him—if not for that, he’s certain he would not have been that bold—and sealed their lips together, cutting Dean’s rambling short. 

“Yes.” He whispered between them as he pulled away, Dean blinking away the surprise as his brain rebooted and processed what just happened. 

“Uh…yeah?” Dean said dopily, a smile tugging at his lips.

Those lips Castiel just kissed.

“Yes.” 

“Even though you said you’d rather be fighting a banshee than go to the dance?” Dean asked, sounding amused.

“We fought the banshee.” Castiel replied rather seriously, earning a chuckle from Dean.

“True. Guess we do deserve a reward after that.”

“Besides,” Castiel started with a sigh, “I disappeared without saying anything earlier. I’m sure Charlie, at the very least, is worried about me.”

Charlie was indeed worried about him, but so was Meg and Gabriel, in their own way. After he and Dean cleaned up, including making themselves semi presentable, they entered the ballroom only looking slightly rumpled, and no less for wear than they had already. The trio bounded up to him right away, once they found him, but Charlie couldn’t admonish him for long without acknowledging the man beside him—rather excitedly, might he add.

She jumped up and gave him a hug, which Dean happily returned, only wincing slightly as his sore muscles tugged and flexed to compensate for the weight and movement. He put her back down not too long after, and the second her feet touched the ground, the three of them were on them like a pack of hellhounds.

“You two came in together?” Gabriel asked, smirking.

“Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell us?” Charlie punched both of their arms lightly, and pouted.

“You two came in together?” Gabriel said again, looking even more smug, if possible.

“We looked everywhere for you and couldn’t find you! We thought you might have left, but then you didn’t say anything, or tell anybody if you got back to the dorm safe or not!” Charlie continued, shaking her head in blatant disapproval. 

“You two came-ow!” Gabriel rubbed the back of his head, and pouted at a smirking Meg. 

Castiel, who was scowling at his brother, felt his face smooth out, and Meg rolled her eyes rather dramatically.

“We get it, Gabe, they came in together. Did you fuck?” 

Dean laughed, and shook his head. “No, we definitely didn’t. Cas is too good for a quick fuck like that, anyway.”

Meg nodded her approval, and Castiel groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Gabriel and Charlie both grinned.

“He just went out for air, when I happened to pass by on my way back from the auto-shop. I wasn’t sure I wanted to come to the dance, but then I saw Cas standing there looking like that, well.” 

Charlie squealed excitedly, waving her hands in the air. “This is so awesome! I told you the dance would be fun, did I not say the dance would be fun?”

Castiel and Dean shared a look, a brief moment of silent conversation only they would understand, and Castiel let out a sigh. 

“You did.” He confirmed, though ‘fun’ was a vast understatement, and certainly not how he would describe the dance—not that he’d experienced much of it, fighting a malevolent Gaelic fae spirit, and all.

“Aw man,” Charlie said with pout, as if she had a sudden revelation, “Cas is way ahead of us you guys! He wasn’t even here and managed to bring a date. Wait, you guys are here as a date right?”

“Yes, Char, we’re here together, as a date.” 

Charlie squealed again, muttering how she “totally shipped it” whatever that meant, and turned back to their group with more fervor than ever that they “needed to catch up”. This time, however, when they separated, it didn’t bring the sense of dread it did when Castiel first encountered the banshee, and thought for certain he was about to die, without ever having said goodbye.

“I never did thank you, Dean. For saving me earlier. I truly thought I was…well. I didn’t think I would still be here, and I probably wouldn’t have been, if it wasn’t for you.”

“Dude, don’t thank me. You held your own against the banshee too. It was pretty hot.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but smiled. He caught Charlie’s eye across the dance floor, and she gave him a thumbs up. Gabriel caught his eye next, but made a rather lewd gesture that would have appalled him, had Dean not also caught it and snickered, finding it amusing. Meg shoved him, and Castiel smirked as Gabriel flailed about, silently thanking her for once again reprimanding his brother on his behalf. She winked at them before turning away, and Castiel tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully.

“It’s strange to think that not too long ago we were fighting a supernatural creature, and now we’re back at the dance, spending time with our friends like it didn’t happen. There’s literally a body down the hall.” 

“Eh, Sam’s got that taken care of. And nobody will know you were there, or what we did at all. They’re safe, and that’s what matters. That’s the job.”

Castiel hummed, and turned to Dean with an appreciative look. Dean looked back, blushing slightly at the attention, but smiled softly regardless.

“What?” He asked, and Castiel shook his head.

He kissed Dean in lieu of answering, and Dean eagerly kissed back.

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

It's February!! Welcome back to another week of ficrecs. A mix of post-confession therapy, poetry, and glorious AU this week. (I thought I'd not read much because this week has been, quite frankly, a bastard, but apparently this was a lie!)

If you missed last week’s you can find my previous rec lists here for more!

2 February 2024

maybe i like pleasure pain by tothewillofthepeople (@kvothes). After the perfect darkness of the Empty, Cas finds the world a little…overwhelming. Dean tries to help. Post 15x18, Cas is both touch starved and touch sensitive, and the sensory overload of the world can be a bit too much. He craves Dean's touch, but resists asking for it. A really beautifully written, metaphor laden examination of chronic pain, disability, trauma and the physicality of the body and nebulous presence of mind. All wrapped up in an abundance of love and devotion. Absolutely gorgeous.

Prayer to a False God by K_A_Mindin (@katerinaalianovamindin, art by @gaytedlasso for @spnbangbang) It’s been two years stuck in the Empty, where the Shadow showed him his worst mistakes over and over again. Then he's brought back, to Jack and to Dean, and silence continues to rein, the unspoken acknowledgement of the confession lingering in the air...until Cas decides he needs to stop letting silence rule. Alongside the emotional pull of this thread, the D/S dynamics which grant Dean the permission to speak his truths, through prayer, and through physical release, are a joy to behold.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by @you-cant-spell-subtext-without is a brilliantly funny take on Misha's "Dean is a custodian in a fast food restaurant. Castiel is the President of the United States" fic prompt from a convention, told through the narrative hook of a Cinderella story. Delightfully tongue in cheek, and laugh out loud, this is currently a wip but a must read to bring joy to your inbox each update.

FROTUS by kathscradle takes the very same prompt but approaches it in a very well executed slowburn that says ok but seriously what if? My favourite thing about this fic is the importance of family, Cas being the widowed single parent of Jack and Claire, and Dean stepping up in his new role as step-Dad. Add in the slowburn relationship unfolding through long distance hyper-monitored correspondence, and all the national security matters at hand, this longfic gave my The West Wing/Scandal/Destiel brain a great big hug.

birthday candles by rhinestoneangels (almondrose/@pinknatural) is a super cute, ever so charming Dean's birthday ficlet in which Castiel's sister Anna drags him to a birthday party for a friend of hers who he has never met. He googles what to bring to a birthday party and settles on baking cookies...one fire later and fortunately, the firefighter who shows up to save Castiel from himself is very dreamy, and what a coincidence! It's his birthday, too….

I've also fallen down a rabbit warren of destiel and spn poetry, and I really really love this one by @whatladybird and this one by @eyelinerdean, @donestiel's incredible poetry gif edit series and I'm very excited to keep reading more on the @spnpoetryrenaissance blog. Has anyone seen a 2024 prompt list? Asking for reasons.

PS if you'd like to be added to a tag list for my ficrecs going forward please let me know!

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Coming soon 2.0 (not in order)

What am I working on? Let’s see. 👇

Want me to write more? Let me know. Please leave a comment or reblog and tell me in your post. I look forward hearing from you! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Castiel

Angel!Castiel x Hunter!gn!Reader, “Surprise Me”, Ch. 2, rated T (currently)

Dean

Vampire!Dean x Girlfriend!Female!Reader, Modern AU, rated E for blood drinking and smut

RPF

Actor!Jensen x Actor!Female!Reader, Spn AU (Canon Divergent), Strangers to Friends to Lovers, rated E for smut

Dark Angel

Alec McDowell x Bartrender!gn!Reader, “Crush” series, meet ugly, roommates, rated M or E for implied or eventual smut

Sam

Hunter!Psychic!Sam x Bar Owner!Psychic!Female!Reader, Bar AU, Strangers to Lovers, Canon Divergent, rated M or Em for implied or eventual smut

Destiel (Cas x Dean)

Destiel x Reader, “Two Men and a Virgin”, Neighbors AU,

Soldier Boy (Bingo)

Soldier Boy ficlet, rated M for discussion of being a camboy

Request (Prize from @spnfanficpond)

Dean/Ketch/Gadreel and Emma fic, Modern AU, rated M for hot naked body description🤤, Daddy/Fluff fic

[rowanspn]

Hey!

If you're looking for something full of action, drama, secrets, lies, betrayals, and a stupid amount of tooth-rotting fluff, might I suggest....The Covert Identity

This work has been the most out of my typical comfort zone and I am unusually proud of how it has turned out so far. If this sounds like something up your alley, you can read it here

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[rowanspn]