#except dean is still awake or something… yeah

[t4tstarvingdog]

Hii random but do u remember the fic where cas washes dean's hands?

jesus fucking christ. yes i remember…. pretty sure it’s fleeceframe too, lemme check

[fantasyandshit]

The true monsters

Type:Oneshot

Pairing: Dean and Sam Winchester x sister reader

Summary: The winchesters have hunted monsters practically their whole lives but when the youngest is taken, they find out who the true monsters are.

(I know I suck at summaries)

*****I usually don’t include warnings mainly because I forget but this is graphic guys so please be careful and don’t read if uncomfortable, this includes themes of violence, force feeding, kidnapping, torture, etc.*****

“I’m going for food.” I catch the keys Dean throws at me- my motorcycle of course. I’d never get to drive baby, especially not alone.

Sighing I leave the motel room and head to the 24/7 diner down the road, it’s late, about 1:30 am so no one’s really out except the people at the bar next door as I walk into the brightly lit Diner. “And what’s a beautiful lady like you doing out here alone?” I turn to see a very clearly drunk old man. I choose to ignore him as I turn back to the counter and wait for my food.

Finally after sitting awkwardly with the man staring from across the room I get the food and leave, failing to notice the man that steps from the shadows of the alley behind me. As I pull my phone from my pocket to text my brothers a cloth is shoved over my mouth and nose and after struggling for a moment, all goes black.

———

*Deans Pov*

“Did Yn send you a weird text too?”

“Uhh no? What does it say?” Sam leans over my shoulder as I show him the text from our sister.

Rug rat 🐀

He- foo-

“Yeah that is weird, maybe it’s just a glitch in her phone or something? I’m sure everything’s fine.”

I hesitate a moment, “Yeah, yeah you’re right.” Somehow even as I say it, I can’t shake the unease that settles in my gut.

———

*Yns pov*

I wake up in a dark, musty room, I’m laying on a table with my arms, legs, chest, hips, and head held down by thick leather straps and a cloth gag sits in my mouth. My eyes move frantically as the fog slowly leaves my head. “Good, you’re awake.” A figure from the corner moves forward before I feel a cool touch run down my torso, that’s when I notice I’m completely bare. My eyes frantically search the man’s face, recognizing the drunk from earlier. “Don’t panic darling, everything is gonna be just fine.”

A muffled scream leaves my lips as his fist connects with my kidney twice before he steps away. As the man leaves I take in the room, in the far wall there looks to be a table, bottles and needs lined across it varying in size and color, I try and fail to struggle in my restraints as the cold metal of the table bites into my skin. “Now now love, no need to struggle.” Another man steps into the room, followed by the drunk from earlier. “I should explain, see me and my boy here we needed a new test subject, and when we saw a pretty lady like you all by herself, well we just couldn’t resist.”

I try to process what he means but my brain is still slow, that’s when I feel it- a prick in my neck before fire burns through my veins, spreading rapidly. I thrash and writhe, muffled screams and sobs leave my lips as tears and drool cover the gag, slipping down my chin.

———

*Deans Pov*

“Ok, something definitely isn’t right, it’s been two hours and Yn isn’t home.”

“You’re right. We’ll go to the authorities later, this doesn’t seem like an us case. We can drive around and look for her though.” Sam seems too calm in this situation, although that’s always how he’s been while me and Yn were always hot headed.

Me and Sam decide to drive over to the diner, “Sammy.” My voice is weak as I call my brother over.

“Oh god.” A shaky breathe leaves him as we see our sisters motorcycle on the side of the road, her keys, wallet, and phone on the pavement beside it.

———

*Yns pov*

I don’t know how long has passed at this point, three hours, three days, I don’t know anymore. My body is numb from all the injections of who knows what and the beatings I’ve taken, there’s currently a tube down my throat held in place by a block to keep my mouth open as food is forced into my stomach because I wouldn’t eat, an IV runs more drugs into my bloody, bruised body. Everything hurts as I lay on the metal table, rats squeaking in the corner.

“We found her!” The door is busted open and people rush to me, “hey, hey we’ve got you.” It’s a man, he has a vest with the letters FBI on him, a hun in his belt as he gets me from the restraints. “This may hurt a bit ok?” He grabs the tube currently in my throat and pulls, causing a spluttering choke to leave my forcefully parted lips before the block is removed after the tube. next to go is the IV before I’m carefully picked up and rushed outside into an ambulance. That’s when it all goes black.

———

My eyes blink open as i feel rough sheets beneath me, panic surges through me as i feel something in my mouth and needles in my skin. I start ripping at whatever my weak body can, not understanding where I am. “Hey, hey. Yn you’re ok, you’re ok. You’re safe, you’re in a hospital and you’re safe. The tube is to help you breathe, the IVs are helping keep you stable. I need you to calm down for me.”

A strangled cry leaves me as I take in my oldest brother, care and concern in his eyes as he looks at me. Nurses and doctors flood the room and shortly after the tube down my throat is replaced by something in my nose. “Dean?” My voice is horse from lack of use.

“Yeah baby, yeah it’s me. I’m here. Sammy uh- Sammy went to go get some food and coffee, he should be back soon.”

“How long?”

“Look kid I-“

“How. Long?”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, “two weeks, you were out while here for another week after that. God I’ve been worried sick kid, that doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Surprise hits me, two weeks, those freaks had me for two weeks. I squeeze the hand that holds mine as I look to Dean with teary eyes. “You’ll make it through this. You’re strong. I’ll be here every step of the way. I love you sis.”

“I love you to De.” With that I nod off into a peaceful sleep, my brothers hand being used as a pillow.

—————

I know it kind of sucks but here you go. I hope you enjoyed!

[zmediaoutlet]

for the spotify fic meme: 25, john/dean 💖💖💖

Stakeout's a bust. Long night without much to show, except maybe that the husband of the dead woman doesn't turn into a monster when the moon rises. Drinks a lot. John doesn't have much call to judge him, on that.

Four in the morning with a cold dark outside. Lot of hours still to dawn, this time of year, this far north. He pulls his coat collar high and reaches across the bench and grips Dean's arm and he comes awake all at once, near silent except for the breath that sucks between his teeth. Enough light from the street lamps to see the shine of his eyes, blinking past the empty lot and the street past to the dark house, and then to see him drag a hand over his mouth, rasping barely-there stubble. "No joy?" he says, gravelly.

"Depends on your point of view," John says, and gets the white gleam of Dean smiling. Easy crowd.

No progress on the job but the police radio didn't crackle with a new death. Night's a draw. There's a motel room on the outside of town and a bottle stashed in his bag there and they ought to head back, get a few hours' shut-eye, try a new tack. John tips his head down to the seat-back, sighs.

Fingertips on his shoulder. When he doesn't move they close into a grip, warm through his coat. "Want to sleep?" Dean says, quiet. When John doesn't respond, a breath. "Want me to drive?"

No, is the answer. Never. It should be John in the driver's seat and John running the show and John with the answers, and failing answers at least a clear idea of where to get them. He doesn't say all that because it'd be an even worse betrayal than the series of decisions that led to the kid sitting beside him at four in the morning, asking what he's asking. Worse than the betrayal of not shoving off that grasping warm hand. Worse, even, than staying still and quiet and listening to his son breathe, in the cold of the silent car, and letting him slide across the seat, and touch John's chest, and slip that touch south, to belt-buckle, to curve smooth and knowing over the bulge in John's jeans.

He's not hard yet but he will be. Dean knows what he's doing. His heart thuds slow and heavy in his ears and Dean tips into him, all heat and surprising softness and surprising hard angles, too. His grip confident after the tentative start. His breath against John's jaw, his smell familiar. The second time, after the fumbling and drunken and terrible first, Dean said small but certain in the dark let me take care of it, like it was a chore to be done or a load he could take off John's shoulders, and John thought, well, that was it, he was going directly to hell, but Dean didn't seem to take it that way. He liked that there was something he could do.

John says, now, "Hold on," and Dean freezes, but all John does is stretch out, legs spreading, his arm around Dean's shoulders to keep him warm. Making it equal parts fault. The absolute least he can do. "Yeah?" Dean says, and John says, "Not going anywhere," doing all he can to make it easy, and after that Dean says, "You're gonna sleep like a rock after this, you know," a laugh tucked into it somewhere, but John can't see his face. His head tucks under John's chin, hair soft, and he reaches down again. The zipper's loud.

[100and1fics]

(002/101)

Part 1 of 2. Dean/Cas, set post-4x11. Inspired by the premise of an older Destiel fic (which I would link to but it's been taken off AO3; I feel like the references are fairly obvious, but who knows). CW consent issues.

The second time he wakes from now-in-technicolor nightmares of Hell to find Cas sitting on his bed, it’s 3 in the afternoon.

After Angels vs. Demons: Kaiju Battle, he and Sam had been slinging back jobs like it was a sweaty summer night, and it’d been working. Keeping him too tired to even dream. But then Sam had started bugging him again, asking if he wanted to talk about it. No. Telling him he should talk about it, that he’d feel better if—still no. The dreams came back, no matter how long he stayed awake. His head hit the pillow and every every was there in the dark: underneath fingernails, behind eyeballs, between each of his ribs, shuddering flesh beneath hands, skin trembling against his teeth. Even when the sun was shining down from on high.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.” He sits up, rubs sleep from his eyes. Cas doesn’t move a muscle.

Since the mess a few weeks ago, he’d wondered if Cas was gonna come back at all. 1-800-HEAVEN, the number you have dialed is no longer in service. But he’s glad to see him. Kind of wary. That’s just how it goes with Cas, the confusingly sort-of-attractive tax accountant who could kill him with a wave of his fingers. Still, he hadn’t seemed to enjoy being on CSI: Angel Murder Squad. “I haven’t seen Anna, if that’s what you want to know.”

“We’re searching for her, but other priorities are more important now.”

“Great. You found another seal?”

“It’s being handled,” Cas says, and then abruptly changes the subject: “You haven’t been sleeping well.”

Does the Pope shit in the woods. “Since when does Heaven care about my sleep schedule?”

“Sleep is important for humans,” Cas continues, “and we need you to be battle ready.”

His jaw clicks. “I am ready. You got a battle for me right now? No? Then a little afternoon nap won’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not—” Cas starts, then stops. He shifts, moving closer, until he’s right next to Dean on the bed. Anybody else, the way Cas doesn’t stop staring at him, Dean would think it was a come on. Except the whole warrior for God thing. “Heaven told me… they want…” He’s never seen Cas grapple for words this much. Angels are decisive, righteous, ruthless; Cas is hesitating. Finally, he ends with, “We want you to be less troubled by your dreams.”

Nonchalance, a shrug and “What dreams?” But Cas doesn’t roll his eyes like Sam, or sigh with impatience like Bobby. Cas just stares right through him with those cold blues. “I’m fine, okay?”

“You aren’t fine. You spent years in the depths of Hell, and any soul would be—”

“Yeah, I’m not talking about that.” Dean’s off the bed and crouched down next to his bag. It’s half full with his crap: the jeans with the tibia-length tear down the side, his two gutting knives, King’s The Colorado Kid. He really should start packing. Sam might be back soon.

Cas’s baritone rumbles from behind. “It wasn’t your fault.” That makes Dean grab one of his shirts and throw it in with too much force. Doesn't help. “My squadron was tasking with reaching you, and if we had truly know what what you were facing, with Alastair—”

“Guess hindsight’s a bitch, huh?”

Some boxers, a towel. Probably the motel’s. Whatever. A flask of holy water, almost empty. Dad’s journal; his usual comfort read. He’d been flipping through before his nap, checking again if there was anything more on the Apocalypse, wishing there was something, knowing there wasn’t.

Cas’s hand was firm, insistent, on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Anna had said angels were frozen, obedient statues. No chocolate cake, no forgiveness, no sex. They could feel like pigs could fly or fish could tap dance. But Cas sounds so goddamn sincere, his heart is beating double-time.

“What, you want me to say thanks for trying?” Now he’s the one invading Cas’s personal space. Cas doesn’t blink. “Make you feel better about failing?”

“We didn’t fail. I rescued you. But I…” That hesitation again. Then Cas moves even closer, until they’re practically breathing each other’s air. Dean can see the beginnings of crows feet around his eyes. Angels still got wrinkles, who would’ve guessed. “I can’t change what happened. But I can give you what you want.”

And then Cas kisses him.

Hands down the weirdest kiss of Dean’s life, and that’s counting—Cas doesn’t know to move his lips, or what to do with his tongue, and when Dean draws back, Cas’s eyes are open.

“What the hell,” Dean says.

Cas says: “We should have sex.”

Cas grabs at him as Dean’s heads try to catch up to what’s happening. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it. Lots of people he’d want to fuck but never get to. Anna Nicole Smith. Belladonna. Mr. Petrov from his second school of junior year (Silverpark Wolves, let’s howl!), somehow both a history nerd and the hottest teacher he ever had. But imagining was just imagining. Half of it with Cas was the adrenaline, looking over a cliff’s edge and the warm pull in the pit of his stomach, that voice saying, jump, baby.

“But angels can’t have sex,” he says as they land together on the bed. It squeals in protest.

“Circumstances have changed,” like that’s supposed to make sense, but Cas has stopped trying to lead. They’re awkwardly straddling, legs tangled up, with Cas hovering above him and a little lost look on his face. He keeps glancing down at Dean’s lips but doesn’t move to kiss him again. It’s like seeing human eyes in one of those museum marble statues; humanity where it shouldn’t be.

He’ll only live twice. He might not know angels, but he does know this.

Dean puts his hand on Cas’s cheek. Cas’s eyes widen, but after a moment he softens into Dean’s touch. “You sure?” Dean asks, waits for Cas’s nod, then shifts up to kiss him again, gentle.

If Cas was breaking the rules here, it wasn’t like Dean was going to smooch and tell. It'd been sliced apple sweet, getting back in the saddle with Anna, but he didn't think Cas wanted to jump straight to the Kentucky Derby. They'd go slow. Easy. He takes charge, and if there wasn't something nostalgic about a long breathy make-out session. Cas learns quick and Dean is 16 again, rewound half a century, taking Emily Smith’s first kiss at Owl Creek Point and the warm black blood under his fingernails disappearing as he runs his hands over soft tan skin, wet lip-gloss mouth giggling against his, and Cas is kissing him so earnestly, lips open now but still a little rough. Off comes Cas’s old man raincoat, his suit jacket, and then Cas wants to take off his shirts, until they’re both skin against skin. Dean trails his hand down Cas’s chest, and Cas shudders beneath him. No flushed cheeks, no heavy breathing, but no mistaking the curve ball he’s starting to pitch. “Dean,” Cas whispers. “I…” Dean grinds down and Cas groans low. They’re hidden in the back row of a movie theater, heavy petting through explosions and car chases, and there’s no such thing as werewolves or bone saws or the Apocalypse or Hell. When Cas moves his hips, mimicking Dean almost exactly, Dean gasps softly into his neck, and then hands grab his ass and twist and he's back against the bed. Cas fumbles with Dean’s belt until Dean helps, shimmying out of his jeans as Cas undoes his own, and it’s then that something falls out of the pocket.

A gold wedding band.

Cas picks it up and without looking drops it off the side of the bed.

Shit. Dean had forgotten. Hadn’t even thought about the guy at all. Was he a newly wed? Did he have kids? Must’ve been one awkward conversation: Pardon me, ma’am, but I need to tell you your husband’s been touched by an angel.

“Cas,” he says, but Cas doesn’t hear him. “Hey, Cas!”

“Yes?”

“We gotta stop.”

Cas tilts his head. “Why?”

Dean gestures at Cas’s body. “The guy you’re—possessing.”

“Jimmy isn’t aware of anything I’ve done,” Cas replies. “So he won’t be aware of this.”

“Uh, but I will. You will. What, you think he'd be down for an angelic three-way?"

“Why does it matter?”

Through the haze, alarms start going off. “Because I’m not gonna make a guy catch when he doesn’t even know he’s playing the game! Look, I don’t like stopping just when we were getting to the good part, but I won't." Not—again.

Cas is frowning. “But you said yes. You want this.”

“And I’m saying no now.” Dean goes to move up, push Cas off, and hits a godblessed brick wall. His second try’s not any better, and makes Cas grab at his wrists. Pin them to the bed.

“Do we need to fight?”

“Oh, if you don’t get off me, we’re not just gonna fight, I’m gonna kick your ass!” But his anger’s more a whisper than a shout. He just hasn’t gotten his breath back yet.

“You can’t hurt me, Dean.” There’s no threat, no malice, no glee in Cas’s voice; just the facts.

He struggles again but it doesn’t do shit against Cas’s inhuman weight, and his dick’s picked the perfect time to betray him, still flying half-mast. Frustration sets his eyes stinging. “You better believe I can try.”

“I believe you would.”

Dean glares. For seconds that stretch decades he thinks Cas isn’t gonna let him go, or try to kiss him again, or—then the pressure’s gone, and Cas is halfway across the room.

“I… I’ve misunderstood,” Cas says. He’s dressed again, all buttoned up in his shirt and suit and that laughable coat. As if nothing had even happened.

“You think?” Dean rubs at his wrists.

“I’ve upset you. I thought…”

“You thought wrong!” He swallows and his throat’s full of razors. Crappy dry air motels. “When you find another seal, you let me and Sam know, but if you ever touch me again, you’ll regret it.”

Cas says nothing. Doesn’t even look at him. Then he’s gone in a whoosh of air, and Dean’s all alone.

[inkedmyths]

S2: E1 "In My Time of Dying"

Brought to you by hi, I'm not dead, just very sleepy a lot because of school. Finally answered all those anons, now an episode. Just for you guys.

This episode featuring: Dean's on strike 2 with the near death nonsense, Sam's psychic-ing needs work, don't fear the reaper, and Certified Dad Moments

Woooo recap

[ Kayla: CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SOOOON ]

WHSHSHSH THE RADIO GOING as they're like half dead in the car

Oop there goes the demon

Oh no the poor guy that was posessed

RIP Sam is the only one still conscious

Morning sleeping beauty

Hm. Maybe? Creepy empty hospital? Whats up here

[ Silas: color theory ]

Is Dean having one of them out of body experiences

HE SURE IS I CALLED IT

Cmon Sam aren't you psychic

[ Anniss snickers, having apparently forgotten what this guy gets up too. Yeah Sam's just sort of psychic and it's only relevant like half the time. ]

Dean's standing here like AAA IM RIGHT HERE GODDAMMIT

Sooo true Sam but like yeah it is important

Protection since they might be attacked at any time

Dean (out of body) judging their Dad

OH NO THE CAR

Whshshsgsgsv where's Dean is he going MY CARRR

Ohhh Sam are u projecting onto the car

Ohh Bobby knows someth too... what are they hidiiing

Dean is like I WANT TO BE ACTUALLY AWAKE THIS ISN'T FAIR

Oooough hes yelling at his dad... who can't hear him........

UH OH

Somethin zoomed by

Is Dean gonna have to outrun Death or someth... who dis

Hmmmmm thats not good

UH OHH

Oh they are fighting and now Dean can't intervene

OH Dean can knock stuff around!!

WJSHSH DEAN

Uh oh Dean

OH NO

Bitch slap it bitch slap it

Oh Sam is picking up on somthing now!

Okay so there is something haunting the hospital

Dean is going to literally be fighting for his life

Oh someone else is stuck like this!! Hi Tessa! Out of body funtime party! Trying not to die!

Oh whatcha grabbin Sam?

Whshshs now we are just vibing as out-of-body spirits

Oh the spooky! The evil spooky!

Hmmm

Whatcha got there Sam are u gonna put it on Dean to try and talk to him

WAIT DOES HE HAVE

HAHAHAHAHHAA

OUIJA BOARD THATS SO FUNNY

Dean is so offended and put off

"Hunt"

"Reaper"

Hough

:(

Uh oh John is Gone

Ur a terrible father sir

[ Crepe says this is his highest point in being a father, which is terribly ominous. ]

Just a little light Demon Summoning

U h O h

ohhhhh

John buddy what the hell. Literally! Lol. Since we're summoning shit

Hello Demon(s)

MAKE A DEAL?

I don't like this but I guess we have to start somewheeeere

"You can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that" wjshsj love functional families

"We were just starting to be brothers again" AUGH :((

WHSHSHS SHES JUST GIVING HIM THE STAGES OF GRIEF

Damn this is heavy

A Warrior's Death

Ohh. OH THATS HOW ANGRY SPIRITS ARE BORN..... Wough.........

The Colt for Dean.......

Hm? Sam and the other children? Whats the deallll

[ Crepe and Melon are hyping up the upcoming Father Moment. ]

Oh no! Oh boy! Im a fear!

I kind of like this Reaper tbh she's just. Nice. Talking people through their deaths.

[ Crepe says they all do that. ]

Yeah I guess the last one was leashed and pissed about it

OH NO

what the fuck

The doctor: Hm well thats fucking bizarre

Dean doesn't remember????

"Except this pit in my stomache saying something's wrong..."

Hm

Hmm

John: (apologizes and asks not to fight)

Sam: Are you good?? You okay???

(The answer is no)

GOD. Being about to die is one helluva wakeup call. BASTARD

Dean: ??? Fear?? Worried??? Dad what?????

Oh hes telling him someth

???

Dramatically drops the coffee

Howd u drop it upright

Time of death 10:41 AM

Well damn!

Great start to season 2: Dads fuckin dead!

---

I guess that's one hell of a way to kick things off for the season, but damn. Like, after all that work they put into trying to find their dad, then trying to help him, save him... and he dies anyways. So Dean can live.

Crepe and Melon spent several more messages just roasting the hell out of John Winchester, which, while it's probably fair, rather took away from the emotion of the scene LMAO

So uh. Gonna be interesting to see how they go forward from here and what their goal will be.

So. Dad Winchester is dead, the Colt has been taken by That Specific Demon alongside its last bullet, and Dean and Sam are here and traumatized. Interesting.

[ninjago13]

Chapter 4: A sleeping angel

It was one of the first times that Cas really slept. Usually he never really needed to sleep, but this time he was exhausted. It had been around sixteen hours since they left Crowley and he still wasn’t awake. While Bobby took care of Balthazar, Sam was buying some groceries and Dean… Dean wasn’t leaving Cas’ side. 

It felt weird, seeing Cas like that. Dean never saw Cas asleep. The angel looked quite peaceful. And beautiful. It reminded Dean of his own dream, which a lot of times came when he had a nightmare. It was always the same. He was fishing at a lake. It was peaceful, quiet and Cas had even showed up a few times. He wondered. He had those nightmares since he returned from Hell, but the lake-dream came a few months later. Around the time that they were working more with Cas. It was possible.

 They now also knew why the trench coat was bloody. That stain would take a lot of soap to get out. The angel had a deep stab wound right where his ribs were. Crowley had used his blood for the sigil to open Purgatory. Dean had patched him up when they were back at Bobby’s house. The hunter wondered why the King of Hell had used his blood. It was supposed to be blood from a virgin, after all. Probably because it was angel blood. More powerful, Dean guessed. Cas moved a bit and Dean woke up from his thoughts. The angel had moved a little bit closer to Dean. 

While Dean and Bobby took care of Cas and Balthazar, Sam went to the grocery store. He got some pie, obviously, some beer, bread, a few packets of crisps and some orange juice. It was one of the rare occasions that they had a normal breakfast. Sam doubted what kind of pie he would take. The cherry or the apple pie? He decided to go with the cherry and paid for the groceries. While he walked back to Bobby’s house he ran into Jody. ‘Hey, how are you?’ ‘Yeah, I’m good, thanks. How are you?’ ‘Ehh, I’ll live. We.. encountered some problems. But we’re fine for now.’ ‘Let me know if I can do something. I still owe Bobby, you and Dean.’ ‘Yeah, thanks. I’ll let you know.’ 

‘We still need to find Crowley. We can’t let him open Purgatory.’ ‘Yeah. And we need to find Lisa and Ben. I couldn’t find them anywhere at Crowley’s.’ Bobby sighed. Dean worried sometimes a bit too much. Not that he didn’t understand. If Dean and Sam were kidnapped he would also wanna find them as quickly as possible. He said: ‘If Cas is up and around we can split up. You and Cas can go search for Lisa and Ben and Sam and I will search for Crowley.’ ‘Are we gonna search for Crowley?,’ a voice suddenly asked from behind them. ‘Sam, you’re back. Do you have the pie?’ Sam searched in the bag and tossed Dean the pie. ‘Here. Any idea on where Crowley could be?’ 

Two hours later

They had been researching for about two hours, when Dean said: ‘I think I’ve got something.’ The other two men looked up and Sam asked: ‘What is it?’ ‘Here. One murder. Only thing found at the crime scene was sulfur. And here is a photo of the crime scene. And look who’s there?’ Bobby took a better look at the photo and saw Crowley standing in the crowd. He snorted. ‘Not very professional. Well, now hope that he’s still there. Good work Dean. Let’s get to Minassouta.’ ‘Wait. What about Cas and Balthazar?’ ‘We come with you.’ The three men turned around and saw Balthazar and Cas steady on their feet, angel blades in their hands. There wasn’t any blood left and it looked like all of the wounds were healed. Dean looked at Cas and the moment his eyes met Cas’s, he felt a strange warmth rushing through him. The spell was however broken when Sam said: ‘Well, let’s go then.’

While they drove, there was a bit of an awkward silence. Dean was still pissed at Cas and Sam, Bobby and Balthazar still didn’t really trust him. It was eventually Sam who broke the silence and said: ‘So, our plan still is to kill Crowley ?’ ‘Yes. Except if we can convince him to let go of the whole plan, but I don’t think that’s gonna work,’ Cas said. ‘Well, his choice. And it’s probably going to be a bad choice, knowing him,’ Sam answered. When they arrived there they split up. Sam, Bobby and Balthazar went through the back, as soon as they had taken care of the angel warding, and Dean and Cas stayed at the gate as a look-out. 

It went easier than expected. That obviously meant that the whole thing was a trap, but still. ‘Well, at least they weren’t so stupid to let the door open.’ Sam sneaked to the back of the room and listened at the door. After a minute he quietly walked back and said: ‘They are in there. Crowley and at least four demons.’ ‘Awesome. We can’t exactly walk in there,’ Balthazar said. Then they suddenly heard something coming from another room. Bobby opened the door and saw two people tied on a chair, with their back to the door. He couldn’t really see who they were, but when he’d made sure it wasn’t a trap and walked towards them everything became clear. They had to warn Cas and Dean. 

While the others were searching in the house, Dean and Cas were looking out for any demons or angels. They had been doing it for about an hour when Cas said: ‘Dean-’ ‘What ? You’re sorry ? I’m sorry, Cas, but you can’t fix this. You almost opened Purgatory and God knows what could’ve escaped from that !’ ‘I know, but that’s not what I was going to say. Look.’ He pointed at the door of the enormous house. Dean followed his finger and saw Crowley walking out, along with Sam, although it looked more like two others persons Dean couldn’t recognize dragged him along with them, Bobby, Balthazar and the two people who dragged Sam along with them. ‘What are they doing ? You think we should help them ?’ ‘Let’s first see if Crowley lets them go.’ 

He didn’t show it, but Dean was worrying. Obviously. Cas knew this, but he didn’t exactly know a way to make him feel comfortable, to let him know that everything was going to be alright. Then he suddenly thought of something. Something he had never done before. Well, a first time for everything. Dean couldn’t see them, but Cas folded his wings around Dean and hugged him. Dean felt something fluffy around him and looked over to Cas. The angel had that mysterious smile on his face and suddenly Dean knew it. Wings. It was at that moment that Dean realized that not even the fact that Cas had betrayed him, he could never hate him. He could never really hate the angel. He just couldn’t. The young man leaned a little bit closer into Cas’ touch and gave him a soft smile. Cas smiled back and they teleported to the others. 

Right after that Bobby saw that Lisa and Ben were tied to those chairs, he quietly cut the ropes and signaled them to come with him. But when they entered the other room they saw Sam, knocked out, lying on the ground and three demons holding Balthazar with a knife against his throat. ‘Hello boys.’ Crowley walked in and pointed at Lisa and Ben. ‘Ah, I see you’ve found them. Let’s get straight to business, shall we?’ ‘You want to make a deal?’ Bobby asked. ‘Yes. I’ll let you all go, except Sam and you don’t try to slit my throat. Deal?’ Bobby looked at Sam. ‘What do you need him for?’ ‘Oh, just a little insurance that Dean isn’t gonna try to kill me.’ ‘With keeping Sam here you have a higher chance of him wanting to kill you then if you don’t.’ Bobby hoped he could persuade the King of Hell to let them all go, but he knew he didn’t really have a chance

[dyed-red]

I know it's the brainworms talking but prev reblog made me want to write a fic about kisses Dean has stolen over the years.

(y'know that ao3 tag that goes something like "Dean Winchester is obsessed with Sam Winchester"? Yeah, like that)

It would start cute like the forehead kiss to baby Sammy in the opening scene of the pilot, a goodbye just for the night, a promise of protection (turned, we know, fast to ash).

Flash forward fast to disturbing territory of Sam blackout drunk as a teen and Dean dropping him in bed, dodging all Sam's octopus limbs trying to attach themselves to dean until he's just - out. And maybe Dean doesn't go for the kiss this time, or maybe he does, but either way he stares at Sam's lips an unsettling length of time, and the scene bleeds into Playthings and there is this distinct undercurrent of 'how often has this exact same thing played out this way over the years'.

We move from there to AHBL and Dean kissing Sam's corpse as if in goodbye, as if seeking atonement, as if that alone could revive it (sense memory still on his lips when he makes his demon deal).

After Sam's wall breaks, comatose, and Balthazar's joke to Dean about not stealing any kisses while he stands vigil over Sam's sleeping form uncomfortably apt, and Dean knows the angels know too much but could he at least keep his goddamn trap shut in front of Bobby, who's looking stiff and away and it figures. It figures he knows too. Figures the whole goddamn world does. (But not Sam, not Sam who is never conscious for these transgressions, these offerings.)

During the trials when Sam is fevered and ill and dips in and out of consciousness, and Dean feeds him and wraps him in blankets and while Sam shakes out the fever, Dean is wrapped around him, presses kisses to Sam's hairline, his forehead, his temples, chin (lips) catching on the grain of stubble dusting Sam's cheeks, thumb grazing his lips until Sam, unconscious and open, sucks it in like a pacifier, like an infant once again.

And maybe if we are going for a 5+1 format, 5 kisses Sam was unaware of and 1 he was let in on, we twist the knife in just a bit?

Possession, we know, involves an open mouth. And how Gadreel entered Sam with Dean's help is a little speculative. If Dean, holding hands with Gadreel, pressed his lips to Sam's mouth and pried it open, stayed there the duration of the trickery he pulled with Gadreel in Sam's brain, so that Gadreel could flow through Dean like a conduit into Sam's open mouth... One wonders if it would be Gadreel or Crowley who would rustle up the image in Sam's mind for him, the strangely familiar sensation of Dean's lips on his.

Of course we could also reject the 5+1 format or subvert it with a happier follow-up, as if two distinct +1s?

Or we could do short snippets of post!finding out Sam (make a whole different 5+1 sequel? 5 kisses Sam let Dean steal, and one that he stole himself?)

We could frame an awake, eyes wide open kiss with demon!Dean that's filthier than all the rest, tongue and suction and bodies pressed firm to each other, Sam's back to a wall, the perfect opportunity to jab Dean with a needle or to get the cuffs on him but only if he's adequately distracted.

After the bmol, after they save Sam, before he's washed, Dean following him to the showers, restless and desperate to touch, to confirm the solidness of Sam's skin away from their mother's prying eyes, but Sam's awake and Dean's never -- never had permission, never stolen one like this, not except as a demon, and between that and Gadreel... But Sam doesn't argue when Dean helps him to the showers, lets Dean help him pry his shirt off when he hisses at the movement and how it strain his limbs, his belt, his jeans, doesn't argue when Dean helps him into the shower itself while maintaining a quiet freeflow ramble about Sam's back needing someone to wash it and not falling over on his still-sore foot and giving himself a concussion. Devolves into Dean kissing Sam's shoulders and hugging him, Sam twisting eventually to look at him, quiet promise of "it's okay" and then Dean takes what he needs and sets his lips on Sam's.

From there, a quiet, not-quite-stolen one of comfort after Sam marches into camp in Apocalypse world with Lucifer behind him, away from the others and Sam melting into the now-familiar, now-comforting sensation.

Dean pulling Sam in after Michael's possession to ground himself, shirtless in his room, out of place in his own skin. His hands on Sam's jaw, his head, more demanding and less feather-light than most times before. Sam's fingers delicately finding a place along Dean's waist, the warm skin there, finding a sense of comfort in feeling how solid Dean is, a sense of fresh understanding as he slides his hands up Dean's back. Dean telling him the beard has to go after he pulls back.

Then after Nick brains Sam and he's dying or dead on the pavement for a moment before he's healed, who cares who sees, this is understood between them, this helps place their jagged pieces together in ways he's not apologizing for anymore - Sam waking up breathing in the air from Dean's lungs on a gasp, lips tingling, mouth opening under Dean to accept him before he even has oxygen in his blood.

The +1 here is either the barn scene (if we're masochistic) or more likely in heaven on the bridge, both of them seeking it together at the same moment, a kiss that means the same as all the last -- I'm here, I'm not letting you go -- but this time untinged by pain or separation, finally together forever, safe.

[benditlikepress]

one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.  

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

Jersey Bros by writer-ofstuff

"So, how did these two do?"

"What do you think? Failures. Just like the others have been."

"I don't know. I wouldn't say they were total failures." The lead scientist mused.

"Sir? What do you mean? The super soldier serum didn't work." His assistant said.

"Yes, while that is true, it does tells us we are on the right track to perfecting it." The scientist said. He types on the computer and brings up their two subject's readings to show his assistants what he means.

"Look at their readings. Their DNA is already changing due to the serum. Which means we are closer to our breakthrough. We just need to do some more adjustments to the formula to get it exactly what we want it to do." He explains.

His assistants nod their heads in understanding and then busy themselves with work that the lead scientist instructs them to begin.

"Sir, what should we do with these two?" One of the asked, gesturing towards the two men who lay asleep on the metal table in the next room.

"Toss them out on the beach. They are no longer of any use to me now." He says dismissively.

The assistant nods his head and calls up a few soldiers who stood guard outside to help take Dean Winchester and Derek Hale's sleeping forms out of the lab and into a truck. Driving them down to an isolated part of the beach just as the morning sign rises and leaves the two sleeping men on the sandy beach.

------

Derek awakes with start, sitting up and looking out at the ocean while the gentle waves wash up and down the sand shore. He rubs his hand through his hair, not caring he is getting small pieces of sand in it.

He feels like he is forgetting something, like the last few hours there is just a hole in his memory. Derek turns his attention to the man sleeping close by him. The werewolf rolls his eyes when he hears Dean starting to snore rather loudly. He has a hard to believing this guy his a feared and bad ass hunter when he is passed out with his ass up in the air and a little drool coming out of his mouth.

Derek doesn't quite remember why he and this hunter teamed up, that being part of the missing pieces in Derek's memories. Yet he still for some reason remembers meeting Dean.

Derek gets to his feet and walks the short distance between himself and the sleeping hunter and lightly kicks him with his foot. The action jars Dean away who quickly rolls over and hits up, sand falling off his face from where he had laid asleep.

"Wake up."

"Wha? I am up." Dean says in a sleepy voice. Rubbing his face clean of the drool and the sand that was still on his face.

"Derek? Why are we on a beach?" Dean asked.

The hunter had sounded just as confused as Derek felt. So Derek doubts asking Dean if he knew what was going on here would be of any help.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Derek says.

He offers his hand out for Dean to take to help the other man up. As soon as their hands make contact a strange feeling jolts through both men's hands. The two men are so startled they let go of their hands and Dean falls on his ass.

"Oops, sorry bro." Derek says.

He frowns when he thinks about why he just referred to Dean as bro. That wasn't a word that Derek would use yet it just slipped out when he spoke. Derek thought nothing of it, besides Stiles said bro all the time so it must have just slipped into his speech.

Thinking about Stiles, Derek started to wonder where the younger man was. He had an odd feeling that he had been looking for him and grew tense at the thought.

'Was Stiles endanger and he didn't remember it?' He thought for a moment. But then his mind felt a little dizzy and then he thought about how the younger man is just at home relaxing.

Derek glances at Dean who looks lost in thought as well. Derek wants to ask him what he is thinking about, but he refrains from it. Dean was a hunter so Derek didn't want to bother to get to know the other man.

Now that he thinks about it, why was he even with Dean? He asks the human and sees Dean's confused frown deepened as he pauses walking.

"Huh, I don't know either." Dean said.

This honestly should alarm both men, yet Derek felt himself feeling relaxed instead. He assumes Dean feels the same way since the other man doesn't make a move to get away from Derek by walking in the other direction.

As they continue to walk side by side down the sandy empty beach Derek's mind wonders. Thinking about how the pair ended up on the beach anyway. Surely there was a reason wasn't there? At the moment he couldn't think what the reason was. When he asked Dean the other man shrugged his shoulders and didn't say a word.

When Derek stole a glance at him he frowned when he noticed that Dean's hair looked lighter than before.

'Wasn't his hair brown?' He thought to himself while he looked at Dean's now bleach blond hair. The hair style even looked different. Looking a little longer and styled differently with hair products to give Dean a fluffy faux hawk style hair do.

The hairstyle even made Dean look younger to Derek. The older man now looks like he is around Derek's age instead of a man pushing into his late thirties.

This was really starting to confuse Derek, but the more he pondered what was going on here the more those thoughts left his mind and he got distracted by something else.

"Did you change your hair?"

Dean hears Derek ask and he turns his attention to the werewolf.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked. He wasn't really paying attention to what Derek said. Busy in his thoughts about why he was on a beach with a werewolf.

"Your hair. It looks different." Derek said.

Dean touched his hair, feeling how it was a little stiff from the hair product he put in this morning after his shower. It felt like his usual style, telling Derek as such.

When Dean looks over at Derek it's his turn to be confused since Derek's facial hair looked different. He could have sworn Derek had a thick amount of stubble along his jaw and around his mouth. Yet now Derek's face was all clean shaven except for some scruff that covered his chin.

Dean had intended to ask Derek about it, but he then thinks against it. After all it would sound rather odd to ask Derek that. Since obviously Derek just had the chin scruff prior, Dean must have just been mistaken is all.

He started to second guess himself, wondering what if something was going on here with himself and Derek. Especially since he couldn't quite explain why the two were even together in the first place.

The two men reach the boardwalk and continue to walk side by side in silence. The pair were both lost in their own minds trying to make sense of what they were doing when Dean noticed a gym to their right.

He pauses and stands outside it, looking inside through the glass windows. When Derek notices he isn't by his side the werewolf pauses and turns around.

"You alright bro?" Derek asked.

His voice sounded off to him and he clears his throat and asks again.

Dean didn't answer him so Derek walked up to stand beside him. He peers through the window of the gym like Dean is doing.. For a moment nothing happened but then Derek starts to get flashes of memories in his head. He sees himself inside the gym, working out with Dean. The two chat like they are best friends while they spot one other while they work out.

The memories he recalls aren't really, he knows this, but at the same time they feel like they are real to Derek and he hates that.

"Come on bro, let's get goin yeah?" Derek asks. Again his voice sounds off to him, but he can't quite place why.

"In a bit dude, I need to see somethin." Dean replies.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but before he could Dean confused walking into the gym without another word.

"Fuckin hell." Derek grunted.

He paced a little outside, debating on what he should do. Running his hand through his hair, as soon as his hand falls back to his side his hair shifts. The sides shaving down to a buzz style while the mid section of his hair style back as it lengthens.

He thinks about just leaving Dean. Clearly something strange is going on here and that is the reason they feel holes in their memories while also having these fragments of new memories.

"Fuck it." Derek grunts and follows Dean into the gym.

------

Dean can't explain the urge he felt to go into the gym. Like Derek he gained those similar memories of himself and the other man coming here. In those false memories it seemed like they were close friends despite the two men hardly knowing one another.

He told himself this was to get to the bottom of things. Instead though Dean just wanders through the main area of the gym. He only sees men in the gym, some guys alone working out while others are grouped up and chatting while jogging on the treadmill.

What makes it strange is how some of them address him by his name, as if they know Dean. Rather than question how they know him Dean just rolls with it, greeting them back. While he does and continues deeper into the gym. His body alters, muscles becoming more toned and defined. Gained from years of working put and maintaining this kind of physique rather than Dean having earned it through training.

The tattoo on his left pec that wards of possession starts to break apart. The ink traverses along Dean's chest under his shirt. Wisps of ink branch off to spread along Dean's arms while the rest form into different styles of tattoos.

More false memories bombard Dean's mind and the hunter clenches his head as he attempts to push those new thoughts out of his mind. He looks ahead of him Dean sees he is standing a few steps away from a large wall mirror. He can see his green eyes darken and for a brief moment he fears he is being possessed by a demon.

"Demon? Demon's don't exist," he then thinks.

His green eyes turn brown, his lips get a little fuller, nose wider and the bridge of it becomes slimmer. Dean grunts, watching his face change before his eyes and unable to do anything but throw his arms up and start to pose. Smirking at his biceps and admiring how large they are. Giving into the admiration of his own appearance finally pushes Dean over. His mind purging his own self from it finally as his new dimwitted and vain self takes over.

He lifts his shirt up to admire his hard earned abs and pecs next once he has had enough flexing. Only stopping to look around and wonder where his best bro is at.

📷

----------

Navigating through the gym was making Derek feel uneasy. What connection he had left to his werewolf abilities was telling him something wasn't right about this place. The men he walked by all seemed like the same type. Self absorbed meat heads who cared only about themselves and showing off.

Derek despised shallow men like this. So whenever any of them tried to stop and talk to him he would give them a glare and ignore them to continue his search for Dean.

The further Derek ventured into the gym the harder it was to recall past memories of his. Thoughts he would have would shift to random things.

'I'm totally bigger than that dude.'

'Jason's here? May need to see if he wants to fuck in the locker room again.'

'Mike's here too. Should talk to him about getting another tat.'

'Where the hell is Dean at? My bro needs to spot me.'

Derek tried to shove those thoughts away but it felt like the more he tried to, the more adamant they were to linger in his head.

He needed to find Dean and get out of here. When he reaches the back area of the gym he finds a tattooed dude posing in front of the mirror.

Derek thought of what a self absorbed guido the guy was. The type of guy you would hate on a trash reality show. He releases only to realize a moment later that this man was somehow Dean.

Astonished, Derek quickly approaches Dean, opening his mouth to ask what happened to him.

"Looking good bro." He says instead. Taken aback by his own words.

Dean turns to look at him and grins.

"You see yourself bro? You hitting the iron hard ya?" Dean replies.

Derek wants to deny it, but he can feel his body surging with muscle. He tries to repel the ongoing changes, but it proves to be useless. His pecs inflate to large and firm pectorals. While his biceps gained quite a bit of bulk to them. The rest of him gained a significant amount of solid muscle while Derek also felt himself growing a little taller.

His pale skin darkened with a tan gained from walking around shirtless and hitting the tanning bed when he could.

Derek tries even harder to repel these alterations happening to him. Not wanting to end up like some self absorbed dick like Dean had become. He assumes being a werewolf has given him an edge that made whatever caused this work slower on him.

He can feel himself being overweight by whatever this is, wincing when two diamond studs appear in his earlobes and his mind shatters a few moments later. Derek stood there in a daze while his old thoughts were overrun by a new persona.

Derek then blinks himself awake, a slow grin spreading on his face as he flexes for Dean.

"Fuck yeah bro. You know I gotta keep this bod in shape for the studs." Derek said with a heavy Jersey accent.

He stands beside Dean and the best bros make faces and pose for a picture. Uploading it to social media before the pair get back to their workout routine. Neither of them remembering anything of their past selves.

📷

[missroserose]

Whumptober Day 5: Running Out Of Air

“Okay, got it.”

“Animal?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it a band?”

“Yeah.”

A breath.  “Is it Led Zeppelin?”

“...that’s not fair.”  Petulant.

“How is it unfair?  You’ve picked Led Zeppelin, like, the last five times we’ve played.”

“Fine, you pick something better.”

Three breaths.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Animal?”

“Yep.”

“Bigger than a breadbox?”

“Most definitely.”

“Is it in the room with us?”

“It’s taking up so much of the room, I can barely breathe.”

“Ha ha.”  A breath.  “Okay, what is it?”

“Your overinflated ego.”

“Very funny, Sammy.”

“At least as funny as you picking Led Zeppelin five times in a row.”

“...you know what?  I was wrong.  We’re gonna be just fine.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah!  I mean, you’re so full of hot air, no way are we gonna suffocate.”

“Jesus, Dean.  Shut up.”

“You shut up first.”

“Fine.  We’ll both shut up.  Save more air that way.”

Ten breaths, maybe.  Fifteen.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish I could see you.”

“And whose job was it to pack the batteries for the flashlight?”

Air blown through lips.  “Can we not turn this into a fight?  I just—”  A sigh.  “I just wish I could see your face again, is all.”

“Sounds like something somebody who forgot the batteries would say.”

“...”

“Okay, Sam.  What do you want me to do, hold your hand?”

“...that’d be nice.”

“Okay.  But don’t try anything weird.”

“We’re trapped in a yeti’s lair after an avalanche and then a rockfall buried the entrance.  Before the avalanche, we were seriously debating whether the yeti was an immigrant from Tibet.”  A breath.  “Our whole lives are weird.”

“Our lives are awesome.”

“Except for the trapped-and-running-out-of-air part.”

“That’s not our life.  That’s just death.  We’ve cheated it before, remember?”

“Maybe.”

Eighteen breaths.

“Dean?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“...”

“Yeah, Sam, I’m sorry.  What is it?”

“Do you think Bobby’s going to make it back with help in time?”

“...”

“Dean?  You still awake?”

“Yeah.  I just…I hate to say I don’t know.  It’s an older brother thing.  I’m supposed to know.”

“I don’t know either.”  A breath.  “In a weird way, it’s nice.  Not knowing.”

“I think it sucks.”

“Maybe.  But it means I can’t do anything about it.  Which means I don’t have to worry.  Either it’ll happen, or it won’t.”

“I think the oxygen deprivation is getting to your brain, Sammy.”

“Maybe.”

Twenty breaths.  More.  The air warm and sticky, sour-smelling.

“Sam?”

Two breaths.

“Sammy?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m.”  A breath, thick.  “I’m glad you’re here.”  A beat.  “Not glad-glad.  But…glad.  You know.”

Another breath.  Another.  A third.

“I’m glad you’re here too.”

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {41}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Mentions of a Nightmare, Comforting!Dean, A Tiny...TINY Bit of Angst Fluff, SMUT {I Tried To Mark The Smut, But Due To Important Plot Info, You’ll Have To Read The Tiniest bit. My Apologies} 18+ Only please!

Words: 2,493

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He doesn’t know what woke him. The night was silent, the bedroom dark except the slight hint of moonlight seeping through from behind the clouds.

You were out cold next to him, the exposer of your shoulders and bare back reminding him of the amazing time you both had after coming back from dinner. He remembers barely getting his shoes off before you were pressed up against him, pressing your lips to his before he could busy himself with anything else; and he was sure that there was a small trail of clothes just outside the door.

He wasn’t sure what time it was and he honestly didn’t care. It was still dark, so that was his cue to get comfortable and fall back to sleep.

He definitely found his spot, but he was still awake when he felt your body shift. One eye popped open just so he could check on you, but when you kept moving around, he opened the other.

After a moment, you sat up a bit and you reached over to the nightstand, lighting up your phone. He was sure that you were just checking the time, and once you saw it, he could hear you sigh kind of heavily before sliding back under the covers. You laid there with your back to him for awhile and he was thinking that you had fallen back to sleep, but when he went to close his eyes, you moved again.

You sat up again, pushing your pillow towards the middle of the bed a little more and then joining the plush when you had it where you wanted it. 

The thing that made Dean happy was that you were even closer to him now. Practically pressed up against his chest.

In attempts not to scare you, he carefully laid his hand over your side as you settled into him, and when he knew that you were aware of him being awake, his hand slid further, resting over your stomach as he held you close. Your skin felt so soft under his rough fingertips and he wished he could feel you like this all the time. But something he wasn’t expecting brought his happiness down a bit.

Your hand had moved over his, which any other time it would make him smile. But this time was different. Your hand was trembling over his despite your attempts to stop it. He could feel you press down on his hand, probably in hopes that it would help. But it wasn’t.

“Hey.” he whispers into the dark room, leaning in and placing a kiss to your shoulder before lifting his head a bit in attempts to look down at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” you say after shaking your head. But of course Dean wasn’t falling for it.

“Y/N...what is it?” he could feel your hand tighten a bit around his before you answered.

“Just had a bad dream.” Hearing that, he leaned in and placed a kiss to your temple. 

“You okay?” he can feel you nod as his lips are practically still attached to your head. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just...” you push yourself back a bit more, literally leaving no room between the two of you. “...don’t leave me, okay?”

“Never.” his grip on you tightens before he too slides back under the covers. He continues to place light kisses to your back, getting sweet, comforting sighs from you as he did. It honestly was getting him all riled up again, but as he felt your body relax more and more, he knew he was just going to have to ignore that part of him and try to get some more sleep too. He had a lot of driving ahead of him.

The sun was up when he woke again and the fact that his alarm hadn’t gone off yet told him it was before eight. Check out was at noon, so he figured four hours was long enough to get up, get ready and head out.

He knows that he must of been in a deep sleep because he never felt you turn over. You were facing him now, your body curled into his side while one leg got tangled in his; and though your bodies lacked clothes, the warmth that was radiating under the covers felt amazing. This feeling is one of the many reasons he wished he called to extend the stay, but he was anxious to get back home. For more reasons than you probably thought too.

The tips of his fingers started low on your back before slowly sliding up your spine. He could feel you waking up as your body became a little less relaxed. As his fingers ran over your neck, you twitched a bit. Knowing it tickled you, just to be an ass, he did it again, this time getting a small giggle out of you before you turned your head up and looked at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” At your sleepy greeting, his fingers slowly made their way back down your body. This time taking a bit longer as he mapped out every curve.

“You okay?” he asks with a hint of concern in his eyes and you know that he’s asking about the nightmare you had. 

But, you smile up at him and give him a few light nods before pushing yourself up and locking lips with him.

He places his palm on your lower back, pressing your body into his as much as he can while he gets lost in the kiss. Truth is, he gets so lost in it that he ends up needing more of you. With one swift yank, he pulls you on top of him, neither of you caring that the sheet slips from your bodies a bit. The cabin was secluded on it’s own so there wasn’t anyone around to see the two of you. 

Your hands are firm on his chest while his are sliding along your neck and in your hair. Your lips are inseparable and neither of you are complaining about that, and it’s clear that you both want more. So, with a slight shift of your hips, you’re able to line him up. When you feel his length slip between your folds, you lower yourself onto him. He’s able to swallow your gasp before letting out a heated moan himself and molding his mouth to yours once again.

He absolutely loved the way you felt against him and he honestly never wanted to give it up.

He never understood other people and those damn chick flicks when they talked about how love was this indescribable feeling; this rare gem that when you find it, you supposedly know that it’s it. He really thought he found that in Cassie. But with you, he felt this entirely new high. Like you’re this drug that he’s been missing out on.

He loved Cassie. He really did. But with you, he honestly could feel the difference. All that talk and those chick flick scenes he thought only existed in the movies was actually real and right in front of him.

But then it hit him. He just confessed to himself that he’s in love with you.

***********************

Realizing this and seeing that his brain was focusing more on that fact than the task in front of him, his hips falter a bit. His thrusts are uneven.

“You okay?” you ask breathlessly before he can fix it.

Seeing that something isn’t quite right, you stop rocking into him and slide your hands along the sides of his face.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.” he shakes his head a bit, trying to push that to the back of his mind. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” he smiles and pulls you down so that he can kiss you.

Once he gets his momentum back up, he thrusts upwards, slowly pushing into you as deep as he can get. A shaky, yet incredibly sexy moan fell from your lips followed by a few curses before you let yourself fall into his chest. Your heavy breaths fanned across his skin as he pulls out and repeats the action a few more times. The sound you make when he hits you deep is pure ecstasy. He wishes he didn’t have to stop, but he knew he would have to eventually. So after a few more times, he picks up his speed a bit, getting you to cry out against him and even bite down on his shoulder. It isn’t long before he feels you reach your peak and when you clench against him, it has him coming undone too.

He lets out a few curses under his breath as he lets his head fall back against the pillow. You whisper ‘oh my God’ into his neck and then start placing kisses along his glistening skin. He lets his eyes fall shut as he soaks in the feeling, letting his hands gently run up and down your back as you both come down from your high.

****************************

A rock anthem quietly begins to play just out of reach and Dean groans a bit as he reaches over for his phone. He keeps you in his arms as he maneuvers the device and turns off the alarm. Once he’s taken care of it, he drops it on the mattress beside him, feeling you place a few more kisses to his neck.

“I guess that means we have to get up, huh?” He smiles a little and kisses your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” you hum, letting your right hand slide up into his hair while you continue to attack his neck and earlobe with light kisses and love bites, and this whole time Dean can’t stop thinking about what had occurred to him no more than twenty minutes ago.

He lays there for a minute going back and forth on whether or not to say anything, but it’s not like this was just a spur of the moment thing. It wasn’t a guess. It was a legitimate realization that he had fallen in love with you.

“Y/N?” You hum again, kissing the spot right below his ear before letting your teeth scrape against his lobe. He has to close his eyes and force himself to focus otherwise he won’t say it.

“I love you.” he finally confesses. It comes out in a shallow breath, but there’s no doubt that you heard him. Your lips stopped trekking along his skin and he could even feel your body tense a bit.

It feels like forever when you finally sit up a bit, just enough to look down at him, and he’s terrified. Was it too soon? Was this going to run you out and push you away from him? He was so hoping that was not the case.

Thankfully, the longer you looked down at him, the more of a smile he was seeing. Soon, it was the smile he adored, bringing him relief and even making him smile. 

You didn’t give a verbal reply back, but he was taking that smile and the fact that you leaned in again to make him lose track of time with another amazing kiss as a very good sign.

“How’d it go?” Bobby took him away from a report he was looking over. A typical disturbance in the office.

“How’d what go?”

“Dean.” For how close him and Dean were, it made sense that Bobby was pretty confused at his reply.

“Oh! Yeah, um...” Typing one last thing as to not forget what he wanted there, Styles then pushed back in his chair a bit to face his boss. “Actually, he uh...” he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, making Bobby even more curious. “He left town for the week.”

“What?” He was sure that Bobby’s expression matched his when Sam had told him. “He never leaves town.”

“I know.” Styles laughs. “But that’s what Sam told me. He should be back later today though, so...I may stop by later on tonight or even tomorrow. Not sure yet.”

“Okay.” Still confused, Bobby tapped two fingers against the desk, shaking his head a bit as he pulled away. “Wow.” It was even more amusing for him to see someone else’s reaction to the news. 

As Dean pulls the pump from his precious car, he glances towards the store and gets an instant smile when he sees you coming out with a bag in your hand.

“What’d you get?”

“Goodies.” you flash your pearly whites in an adorable way, making Dean’s smile grow even more. “But...” you add as you come up to him and reach into the bag. “I also got your fav.” When the bag of jerky is revealed, his eyes practically light up.

His hand brushes yours when he takes a peek at the flavor you grabbed and he still can’t seem to understand how you know him so well after just five months. But, he also fell in love with you in the same amount of time, so...he was trying to just accept what was and enjoy it.

“You’re amazing.”

“I try.” His hand drops from yours and he flips up his license plate.

“Alright! I’m going to use the restroom real quick, then we can hit the road.”

“Okay.” He leans in and kisses your cheek before jogging up to the store.

As you slide in the front seat, you pull out the drink you grabbed for yourself and popped it open, taking a big swig of it. After that, you were grateful that you had  gotten two of them, because clearly you were more thirsty than you thought.

Once you were satisfied with that, you dug back into the bag and grabbed a bag of chips before ripping it open and popping one in your mouth. While you munched on a few more, you notice Dean’s phone light up on the seat next to you. Before the screen goes black, you see that it was a text, but it was from a random number.

You shouldn’t have been curious. You don’t know why you were. It was Dean’s life and it was probably just work anyway. 

But then that just made your curiosity grow even more. What if it had to do with Cassie? What if they caught her killer? Or even worse, what if they hit problems?

You couldn’t stop yourself. Your hand was already on the device, lighting it up and pulling the message down so that you could read it before your conscience could wake up and stop you. 

Julie was the name of the sender, and no matter how hard you thought back, the name didn't sound familiar to you. You don’t remember Dean ever bringing that name up before.

Hey, Dean! I was able to steal the the 8am slot! So as long as you’re still interested, we’re on for tomorrow morning! Let me know if anything changes. Can’t wait to meet you!

A mysterious text? Wonder what’s going on now...

Forever Babes:

@dnnwnchstr22 @ricanqueen20 @onethirstyunicorn @in-deans-arms @sandlee44 @hobby27 @catching-up-with-kayla @chances-and-miracles @superfanficnatural @thatmotleygirl @sleep-i-ness @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @amandamdiehl @coldmuffinbanditshoe @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @deangirl93 @that-one-gay-girl @borikenlove @foreverlonelyforhim @fairlyspnfanfic @mlovesstories @miraclesoflove @flamencodiva @tombraider42017 @downanddirtydean​

Dean/Jensen Babes:

@deans-baby-momma​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​ @michellethetvaddict​  @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @starsandmidnightblue​ @lyarr24​ @torn-and-frayed​ @jensengirl83​ @idksupernatural​ @akshi8278​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @tatted-trina6​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @sexyvixen7​ @onceuponathreetwoone​ @cpag7​ @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden​ @deandaydreaming​ @deansgirl215​ @mikadwinchester​ @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x​ @pink-sparkly-witch​

Escape Lovers:

@teambuckyovereverything @busy-bee-angel-misska @vicmc624 @xxsovereignsarayaxx @cookiechipdough  @deansgirl215 @linki-locks11 @negans-lucille-tblr @squirrelnotsam @samsgirl93 @londoncallingbutiwontpickup @percywinchester27 @maralisa124 @thecreatiivecorner @briagallen @fanngirl19 @supernatural-love14 @thefemalestorywriter @deanwinchesterinthedarktower @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @supernatural3002 @shesnotmaria @couldabeenamermaid @my-proof-is-you @muchamusedaboutnothing​

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Heya, if you're still doing drabbles could I please get a Dean Winchester X Reader with Prompts 1, 46 and 55. Thank you

Prompts:

1. I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.

46. It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway

55. Our song came on and I needed to talk to you after I heard it

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Ruin, a birthday supernatural event fluff fic

Warnings: No beta.

Author Notes: Sixth drabble for the birthday event! Sorry it took so long!! Thank you so much. Remember tenses are an issue. Happy to fix them.

Y/N met the Winchesters during a case when she had tracked a surprisingly large werewolf pack to a cabin outside a small town except she got there late which turned out to be a good thing for the brothers. She shot down the two late stragglers that Dean and Sam had missed. Dean was already in the car ready to head out and Sam was about to get in when Y/N showed up in time to take down the one on Sam quickly followed by the one that had reached in and was pulling Dean out. Once introductions were made, they seemed to become fast friends. Y/N clicked with both brothers well; Sam was very much on the research and knowledge front and Dean picked up a bedfellow and exchanged pop culture references that Sam did not always get. Now, both brothers were ridiculously hot and sexy but Y/N found Dean’s humor hilarious and started crushing badly on him. Yeah, they would flirt here and there but she always thought she was out of his league by the women he would bed— beautiful, long-legged, and tall, unlike Y/N who was very muscular, a former track runner with large thighs and built well for a hunter. Sam saw that Y/N seemed to like Dean and would try to encourage her to talk to him but she would deny it. Dean had become her best friend and she didn’t want to ruin anything.

In this particular case, it was Dean and Y/N by themselves since Sam had gotten a broken arm in the previous case, so the two decided to take this vampire case without him. They had looked in and around town to find a hotel but none had vacancies. Y/N said to try the next town, three towns ago. Despite all the small towns near each other, there were no vacancies due to a concert this weekend in the capital nearby. Dean decided to keep driving since he was awake and Y/N stayed away to keep him company. She started getting sleepy in the passenger seat and rolled the window down as she let the cool autumn air through her tresses. She watched the scenery and sky change as they sat with a 70s hard rock radio station playing.

They were driving through farmland and the monotony was getting to her. “Dean, we need to pull over. If I’m getting tired, I know you are,” Y/N said.

“Yeah, all right,” Dean said. He drove until he found a small wood area off a beaten path and turned off the car.

Y/N unbuckled and slipped into the backseat, then grabbed her bag. “I brought something for us,” she chuckled and pulled out a hand crank radio. “No wasting Baby’s battery now.”

Dean busted out a laugh and shook his head and he got settled in the front seat.

Y/N had already charged it and turned it on to the station they had been listening to. “Night, Dean,” she said once laid down.

“Night,” he said back.

They both laid on the seats attempting to sleep with no luck. Without the sound of Baby rolling, it seemed like Y/N couldn’t sleep. Their case seemed to keep popping up in her mind. She tried to push it aside with no luck. After an hour, she could hear Dean lightly snoring. She decided to focus on the radio and would wiggle her feet to the music slowed for a few songs, such as “More than a feeling,” “Carry on Wayward son,” “Dream On,” and “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper.”

She had finally gotten relaxed when the tempo changed on the next song, “Cherry Bomb.” The song made Y/N grin since it made her think of when she first met the brothers. The song was playing the first time she saw Dean and was just taken by him upon sight. It was at that moment she decided she was gonna tell him how she felt. What she wasn’t aware of is that the song woke him up despite the low volume and was deciding if he should get up and drive or try to go back to sleep.

Y/N sat up and leaned over looking at him while he appeared to still be sleeping. She touched his arm and shook him slightly, “Dean.”

His eyes opened suddenly and looked at her which startled her. Dean reached up and grabbed her forearm, “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep.”

She chuckled and grabbed his forearm then squeezed showing she was fine. Dean sat up and let go of her arm. She quickly grabbed his hand as she began to speak, “Anyway…Our song came on and I needed to talk to you when I heard it.”

“We have a song?” Dean asked confused and glanced at Y/N.

“When we first met, this was playing,” she explained.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Yeah, I do that,” she paused for a moment. “I need to tell you something,” she squeezed his hand unconsciously as she spoke with her face set.

Dean looked at her expectantly, remaining silent.

The sudden direct attention on her made her start to panic. She grinned nervously then let go of his hand. Fuck! Fuck! She exclaimed in her head.

“You know,” she put her hands on the back of the front seat. “Nevermind. It’s not important.” Chicken, she thought to herself.

Dean reached out for her hand holding it in his. “Wait, Y/N, tell me. You know I’m not gonna judge you or tell Sam.”

“I-I-I don’t wanna ruin this,” she explained and motioned between them.

Dean was beginning to wonder what she was gonna tell him. “This? You’re one of my best friends Y/N. There’s nothing to ruin. It’s already there, Sweetheart.”

Y/N laughed at his remark.

He squeezed her hand and tried to get her to tell him.

Her face was so serious before and it worried him a bit.

“I’m scared,” she admired.

“Scared?” Dean said, confused. “Wha—?”

“Terrified. I’m terrified, actually,” she interrupted. She opened her mouth and it took a second before anything came out, “Dean Winchester, I think I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s eyebrows went straight up in shock and were silent.

Y/N misread this that he didn’t feel this way. She yanked her hand from his and scooted back, “Nevermind. Nevermind. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.” She turned the radio off, laid back down, and rolled away from him.

She’s in love with me? He thought happily. Fuck! Upon seeing her misunderstand him, “Y/N, Woah, Woah.” He quickly followed her into the backseat and laid basically on top of her.

“Dean!” She exclaimed, trying to push him off of her. “This is making this way more awkward, man.” She said grumpily with her arms crossed.

His arms boxed her face in and he stared longingly into her face, “Y/N! Look at me.”

She hesitated but did and chewed on her lower lip.

“I love you too,” Dean said softly, gently in a way he had never spoken to her before.

Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and practically yanked him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms under her back and rolled them over. His lips were soft and wet. She pulled back a moment to look at his brilliant green eyes, then leaned back in pushing her tongue in his mouth, dragging a moan from him. She quickly pulled back and yawned then giggled as she buried her head in his neck.

“Am I that bad a kisser?” He teased. She giggled and shook her head.

“I haven’t gone to sleep yet, and you snore.”

Dean readjusted and pulled Y/N down slightly, tucking her shoulders in under his arm. He kissed her head, “Then get some sleep, Sleeping Beauty.”

Comments and feedback welcome, especially if to help with tenses and grammar.

Remember: I take requests now! Send me an ask.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

22 Oct. Suptober: Birthday

"Dean," Cas whispered, gathering him up in his arms so carefully, "what is important about October thirteenth?"

post 15x18 au: deancas

Dean glanced at the calendar hanging near the stove again while stirring a pan of mac-n-cheese to keep the cheese from burning. And he frowned again at the square on the calendar that was labeled 13 in an orange font. October thirteenth. 

No-one had scribbled an appointment or reminder to pick up eggs or milk in the square, the kinds of notes marking other days. There was a tiny pumpkin drawn in one corner, but that was it.

"Intense vibes," Sam said, reaching over to grab the spoon for the baked beans off the spoon rest. 

"October thirteen mean anything to you?" Dean asked. "Like, is it an important date for some reason?"

Sam shrugged. "Not that I can recall."

At the kitchen table, Jack had finished putting cut up cherry tomatoes in four bowls of salad greens and Cas was stirring a dressing made from buttermilk and half a packet of ranch herbs. 

Jack futzed around with his phone. "Wiki says that's the day the Boston Red Sox won the first modern World Series championship."

"That does sound truly cursed," Sam said. He had Opinions about the Red Sox.

"Okay, but that's not why I keep thinking there's something I'm forgetting," Dean said. 

He started divvying out three normal sized portions of mac-n-cheese onto dinner plates and one miniscule portion onto the plate for Cas. 

"Well, it'll either come to you or it won't," Sam said, ferrying two plates to the table. 

"Yeah." Dean grabbed the other two and followed him.

Dinner was uneventful, until ten bites in when Dean remembered why the date had ever had any meaning to him whatsoever.

He didn't take an eleventh bite.

No one seemed to notice, or he thought they hadn't. He retired to bed by nine o'clock, curled up on his side like a big shrimp, and thought about pulling the blankets entirely over his head. 

Cas got into the bed before he could do that.

Dean laid perfectly still with his eyes closed and tried to breathe slow and shallow.

"Are you all right?" Cas asked softly, not fooled in the least. He inched closer and placed a kiss on Dean's eyebrow.

Dean didn't burst into tears. Explosive sobbing would've by its very nature flown away from his body, his crushed ribcage, his throat clogged with rushing leaves like a stream after a hard rain.

Every pain ringing through him at the moment was turned wholly inward, knives he held by the hilt ran through his own flesh until it seemed he might bleed to death.

"Dean," Cas whispered, gathering him up in his arms so carefully, "what is important about October thirteenth?"

"It's her birthday," Dean said, almost quaking with it. "Lisa's."

Cas drew in a breath deep enough to jostle Dean in the process. But his hand came up to cup the back of Dean's neck, protection warm as a woolen winter scarf.

Dean struggled to sit up and then made sure there was no daylight between him and Cas when Cas sat up too. The mattress dipped from them being wedged together in such a small spot.

"I don't miss her," Dean said, knowing Cas with his angel senses could see his eyes. "It's not…" He trailed off, abruptly lost on a forest path overgrown with scraggly trees and thorny vine.

"You loved her and Ben," Cas said, sounding sure, sounding sad.

"Not enough. If I'd loved them enough I would've never showed up on her doorstep before, um. When we were trying to save Sam from Lucifer." Dean let a tear drip down his cheek and chased it away with his knuckles roughly. "Except."

Cas tucked his hand into Dean's and waited. 

"Thing is, might've been Chuck," Dean said, miserable knots in his stomach. "I can't-- We barely knew each other, and I envied her life so badly, and yeah she was beautiful and hot and Ben was a great kid but it isn't like I laid awake at night dreamin' of them. Not more than any idle daydream. But I showed up at her door outta nowhere and said a bunch of insane shit and then when Sam--" His voice cracked. "I went back and she didn't even blink?"

"Sometimes you have a tremendous inability to understand why people love you," Cas said. "And that isn't me defending anything Chuck may or may not have done; I'm simply pointing out a fact."

Dean squeezed his hand. "I'm not saying-- That year I was so fucked up, man. No, I don't know to what extent Chuck had anything to do with any of it. I'm not trying to take the blame off myself--"

"Good, because I'm as much to blame as anyone--"

"No--"

"Dean, I betrayed you and Sam. Crowley came after Lisa and Ben because of me." Cas's voice broke on the last few syllables.

"Listen, no, no." Dean thumbed away the couple of tears he could see sketching down Cas's face now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he marveled for a second at how much more emotion Cas let show on a regular basis. "I forgave you. This isn't about any of that, really."

Cas blinked against a few more tears that fell. "Then what--"

"I missed you," Dean said, feeling the truth of it well up in him and fill him to the brim. "That year Sam was gone. I was tryin' to find a way to get him back without Lisa finding out. Okay. That's who I was, and am. Sam's hurt, I gotta fix it. Sam made me promise, so okay, I stayed with Lisa and I tried. I tried, Cas, I swear I did."

Cas nodded.

"But all that,” Dean said. “That was… I mean, from here, lookin' back, it's nuts. At the time, though, it was just what I would do. It made sense in some way.

"And then there was you." Dean dipped his forehead against Cas's temple.

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, tipping his head in confusion. "I was in heaven."

"Yeah, man. I know." Dean sighed with a little exasperation at himself. "That's the kicker. Chuck brought you back, you went back to heaven, like anyone would. I was supposed to be happy, or happy enough, anyway. Lisa and Ben and a nice house in the suburbs and golf on the weekends. We had cookouts with neighbors and took photos where we looked like normal people. I helped Ben with homework and mowed the freakin' lawn.

"And I wasn't supposed to miss you like I did, so I tried very, very hard not to." Dean ignored his burning eyes. "Sometimes it worked. These long stretches -- wouldn't think about you at all."

Cas looked stricken. Heartsick. 

"But other times." Dean shook his head. "One time, it'd been maybe a week or somethin'. I raked up a shitload of leaves, nice autumn day; I go inside and go to the bathroom to wash my hands, and suddenly I thought about you and had to sit down on the floor. Took me out at the fucking knees. 'Don't pray to him, don't pray to him.'" 

Dean smiled a small, small smile. "See, all these years. Most of all these years, I should say, 'cause we've known each other a long time now, haven't we?"

Cas nodded, rapt, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I thought I was good at it: not thinking about you. Not praying to you, or wishing you were around. Not keepin' a running tally in my brain of all the shit I wanted to talk to you about next time I saw you, or movies to show you or, I don't know, just random things to tell you, pop culture and how to be human shit." Dean's throat was sore as strep. "Not replaying stuff we'd already talked about. Not thinking about how much I wanted to just be near you, know you weren't hurt." His voice went shaky. "What I really got good at was missing you. That's-- Expert level, here. Maybe my one true skillset."

Cas looked like he didn't know how to begin to respond, other than tucking himself into Dean and wrapping his arms around him.

Dean wasn't crying so much as pulling out the knives and throwing them clear of himself. What he'd come to want most in the world was something he'd believed he couldn't have -- for years thought that, for years wounded himself with the crooked edge of it -- but he was holding in his arms his most beloved friend, his dearest love, and the thankfulness he felt would've knocked him off his feet again if he hadn't already been sitting down.

Not for the first time, he said goodbye to Lisa and Ben. He'd let them go before; each time was easier than the last. 

He pressed a kiss into the top of Cas's head. "I'm so glad you're here now," he whispered. "I'm so glad you're home."

Cas's voice was muffled by Dean's chest when he said, "I hope Lisa had a nice birthday last week."

Dean almost chuckled. "Yeah. So do I."

Cas tightened his arms and raised his face, met Dean halfway to a kiss that started soft, nearly timid, and left them both breathing hard. "I love you," Cas whispered, Dean's head in his hands.

Dean set to the task of answering him, and neither of them slept for many more hours.

[haidyn-reeves]

I’ve Got You

Square: Cuddling Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2352 Warnings: If cuddling Dean Winchester is a warning, then you’ve been warned. Lil’ bit of angst but lotta bit of fluff! Summary: When Dean loses control during a hunt, Y/N makes sure he knows he’s not alone. A/N: For @spnmixedbingo​ and @spnfluffbingo​!

Over the years, Y/N witnessed the many sides of Dean Winchester, but she wasn’t prepared to see him so torn up and uneasy now that he bore the Mark of Cain. He thought she didn’t notice the flinches, winces, and the grabs at his arm. It was no secret that the Mark was affecting him somehow. She heard him tossing and turning in the room next to hers at night, she saw the longing stares at the bottles of liquor. The Mark made him terrifying when he needed to be, but he was the most vulnerable when he was alone with his thoughts. Dean wanted to create space between them, he knew he could snap at any minute and the thought of hurting Y/N because of the Mark he asked for made him sick.

It was a particularly rough day. Dean lost control again during the hunt, leaving Sam and Y/N bewildered as they stared at the man, First Blade in his shaking hands. Y/N wanted nothing more than to run to his side, to wrap him in her arms and remind him that he was still the greatest man she knew, but the sight of the blade made her stomach turn. Dean had created so much distance between himself and his girl that she wasn’t even sure he’d welcome her embrace.

“Dean, drop the blade,” Sam urged, trying to remain calm so as not to alarm his brother.

“Dean, you’re okay. It’s over,” Y/N soothed, her voice shaking. Sam put his arm out to keep her behind him.

Dean began to come to, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. He blinked his eyes a few times, looking around the room at the slaughtered vampires and their victims. He looked down at his hands, seeing all the blood covering his skin and his clothes. He dropped the Blade as if it were on fire, burning his skin to the touch.

“Kick it over to me, Dean.”

Dean looked up at his brother, slowly getting to his feet and nudging the Blade in Sam’s direction with his foot, refusing to look at Y/N before leaving the warehouse and making his way to Baby. Sam shrugged off his flannel and bent down to pick up the Blade, wrapping it in his shirt.

“Sam, what do we do? He hasn’t had the Mark that long and it already has a hold on him.”

“For now, we keep this blade far away from him. Without the temptation of the blade maybe it’ll calm down enough for us to figure out a better plan.”

“How are we going to keep it from him? You know Dean, if he wants something, he gets it.”

“Leave it to me, for now let’s get him home and I’ll take care of it.”

Y/N nodded, following Sam out of the warehouse. They found Dean attempting to clean himself up, though he was still covered in now-dried blood and his skin was stained red. 

“Hey Dean, how about I drive and you try to get some rest. Y/N can sit up front with me and you can take the back seat to stretch out. We’ll be home soon and then you can clean up properly.”

As if still in a daze, Dean gave a brief nod before climbing into the back seat, passing the keys to Sam before making himself comfortable. Y/N sighed quietly, getting into the passenger’s seat beside Sam as he started the engine, driving them back to the Bunker.

The ride was quiet, Dean having passed out sooner than expected. Y/N was fighting sleep, too anxious about Dean to allow herself to rest. Her heart ached for the older hunter. Simply put, she missed him. She never expected him to ask for a break or space from their relationship. All she wanted to do was help him through this mess but all he wanted to do was keep her safe. He didn’t care that she trusted him with her life; he didn’t trust himself with it while bearing the Mark. 

When Baby pulled into the garage, Sam gently shook Dean awake, throwing his hands up in defense when his brother shot up alarmed. 

“Dean it’s just us, we’re home. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” Dean climbed out of the back seat and stormed into the Bunker, leaving Sam and Y/N to carry in the bags. 

“I guess he remembered what happened and now we have grumpy Dean.” Sam looked down at Y/N, giving her a sad smile.

“Listen, I know you two are on a little break, but I can’t comfort him the way you can, and I know my brother, and I know right now he’s hurting, he’s confused, and he’s upset with himself. He may not want to admit it but he does need you, way more than he’s ever let on.”

“I don’t want to disrespect his wishes, Sam.”

“I know, but I’m telling you, he needs you. Go on, I’ll grab the bags.” He gave her a gentle nudge in the Bunker door’s direction, chuckling as she made her way into the underground fortress.

Y/N followed the twists and turns of the hallway until she got to her bedroom, finding Dean’s door closed next to hers. She knocked on his door, turning the knob when she didn’t hear a response. The man was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor with his hands on his thighs.

“Dean…? Can I run you a bath? Help you clean up?”

“No,” he answered gruffly, still refusing to meet her eyes. 

“Dean, you asked for space. I’m giving you space, but I never agreed to not take care of you, especially when you need it. You take care of everyone else, let yourself be taken care of for once.” Dean didn’t budge and Y/N pursed her lips, going to his dresser and pulling out a henley and sweatpants. “You seem to have forgotten that I don’t take no for an answer, so let’s go.”

Dean rolled his eyes and got up, following Y/N to the bathroom down the hall. She handed him the clothes she picked out, stopping outside the bathroom door. “My aromatherapy body wash is under the sink if you’d like to use it. Always calms me down after a rough day. If you need anything, holler.” She watched him enter the bathroom before going back to her room to change into her pajamas and unpack her duffel. She finished getting ready for bed at the sink in the corner of her room, waiting to hear Dean come down the hall and enter his room. She had no idea how she was going to approach the situation, she just knew she needed to do something to make sure Dean knew he wasn’t alone in dealing with the Mark.

She was packing her duffel away when she heard Dean’s footsteps coming closer to her room before he entered his own. She gave him a few minutes to get settled, taking the time to handle her nerves. What the hell was she nervous about? This was Dean, her man, there was no reason to be this nervous. She took a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door, hearing an agitated grunt as a response. She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, finding Dean in the same position as earlier, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. His damp hair was standing up in every direction, indicating he had run his fingers through it a ridiculous amount of times while he stewed in his irritation.

“Dean,” she sighed, closing the door behind her.

“Y/N,” he grunted, turning his head away from her. She shook her head, crossing the distance between the doorway and his bed. “Y/N, no-“

She ignored his protests, straddling his thighs and sitting down on his lap. When he refused to meet her gaze, she cupped his cheeks and gently turned his head, making his pretty olive eyes lock with hers. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he huffed, though it was easy to see that his guard was slowly crumbling down. Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. She kissed his temple, resting her cheek against his as she held him, his body tense against hers.

“Dean, you can hug me back.”

“Don't wanna hurt you,” he mumbled, mostly talking into her shoulder.

“You won’t hurt me, and even if you do, you taught me how to defend myself. I could take you.”

“Not a chance.”

“Dean Winchester, if you don’t hug me back, I will tickle you. And don’t you dare say you aren’t ticklish, I’ve heard you squeal like a little girl if someone so much as pokes your side wrong.”

“Y/N you’re such a pain,” Dean huffed again, limply wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You can do better than that.” Dean rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on her. “I’m supposed to be your pain, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his body starting to relax. He buried his face in her shoulder, Y/N rocking them from side to side carefully. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Dee. Sam and I, we want to help you. Any way we can. And don’t you even try to say you can handle it on your own. I know you can, you’re the strongest man I know, but this? This isn’t something anyone should have to do alone, nor is it something you deserve.”

“Yes I do,” he whispered. “I’ve done terrible things-“

“Darling, the amount of good you’ve done surely outweighs anything bad you’ve ever done. You’ve saved so many lives, Dee. You stopped the apocalypse. You saved the literal world. You don’t deserve anything less than everything good this world has to offer. You’re not a bad person, Dean. I’m not just saying that. I genuinely believe your heart is good. None of us would be here without you.”

“I’m scared.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue. Dean was never one to discuss his feelings, not liking to be vulnerable. Y/N and Sam were the exceptions, he felt comfortable sharing some of his feelings with them, but he’d never told anyone he was scared before.

“It’s okay to be scared, Dean. It’s a scary Mark and a scary burden to bear. But you don’t have to face it alone.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, his grip continuing to tighten as he held onto Y/N, almost for dear life. He hated that he pushed her away to cope on his own and now he desperately wanted her back. He nudged his face further into the crook of her neck, his fingers squeezing the material of her pajama top.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” she pulled back slightly, kissing his forehead. “How about we lay down yeah? You need to get some sleep, babe.”

Dean nodded, letting go of Y/N so they could crawl into his bed. She scooted behind him, spooning him, Dean sinking back against her front. She reached for his right hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing softly. She looked down at the Mark on his arm and cringed. “Does it hurt?”

“Feels like when you have pins and needles and sunburn all at the same time,” he winced. He pulled their interlocked fingers up to his chest, holding her hand over his heart tightly. Y/N smiled, dipping her head down to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck. He shuddered in her hold, smiling to himself as he tucked himself under her chin.

“I told you you’re ticklish,” she teased. 

“Felt nice though, made me relax.” Y/N smiled, nuzzling her nose at the back of his neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I know Dean, I love you, too. Every inch of your stubborn ass.”

“I was trying to be cute.”

“You don’t have to try, you just are,” she giggled. “But seriously, please don’t push me away, babe. I’m here for you, I’ve got you, always. I want to help in any way I can.”

Dean melted in her embrace, relaxing against her. “I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. The Mark, it takes over sometimes and I don’t want you to be the one that gets hurt because of it.”

“Dean…I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate that and love that about you…but maybe you need to let me and Sam try to protect you for a bit. Just until you get a handle on the Mark and learn to understand it better.”

Dean brought their interlocked hands from his chest to his lips, kissing the back of her hand before turning over in her arms to face her. “If it gets to be too much for you, I need you to promise me you’ll walk away.”

“Dean-“

“Y/N, I’m serious. If I agree to this, I need to know that when it gets too dangerous, you’ll be safe. Promise me.”

Y/N stared into Dean’s eyes, those pretty green orbs always able to say what he wouldn’t allow himself to voice out loud. The worry was evident, but the love was enough to make her heart stop in her chest. She knew she could never actually walk away from him when he needed her most, but if it made him feel better to hear her say it, she could give him that much.

“Y/N-“

“I promise, Dean.” She brushed her lips against his in a soft kiss, sealing the deal.

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief, pulling her impossibly closer. He showered her cheeks in kisses, making her squeal and squirm as his days-old scruff tickled her skin. “Missed this.”

“Missed you.”

“Well played,” he hummed, combing his fingers through her hair as she snuggled into his chest. “Remind me never to do that again.”

“Oh trust me, Winchester. I will.”

Tagging: @lyarr24​ @gia-25​ @waywardrose13​

[supernatural-fangirl1967]

Hold on to Me

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Panic Attack, Fluff

Word Count: 1,537

Anonymous Request:  Hi! Could I request a fic where the reader has a nightmare and wakes up already having a panic attack. Dean wakes up and tries to help but gets worried because he thinks she’s gonna pass out because she can’t manage to calm down. Lots of fluff and cuddles once she finally does calm down. Please and thank you!

Square Filled: Cuddling

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo. Please let me know what you think!

Your lungs burn as you race across the dark building. When you and Sam finally got a location on Dean, you took off out the motel room door almost leaving Sam there. When your eyes land on Dean's pale form, your heart drops. He's been missing for almost a week after being attacked by a Djinn, and if it hasn't already drained the life out of him, it almost has.

"Dean," you sob and you reach into your pocket to find a knife. You cut him down but you're not able to hold up his weight, so you gently lower him to the dirty floor. "Sam!" you holler, hoping that there's no danger now that he's killed the monster. You turn your attention to Dean when you feel his hand slowly move against yours. "Hey," you say and you give him a small smile. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay? But you've gotta stay awake for me, baby." Dean's eyes start to slide shut, causing you to panic even more than you already are. "Dean. Dean! Open your eyes."

He's so pale and that faint pulse that you feel underneath your fingertips is getting weaker and weaker. Dean's body goes limp in your arms causing you to panic.

"Dean!" you scream. "No. No. No! Open your eyes! Baby, look at me. Open your eyes! Dean!" The tears are streaming down your face and your heart is racing. You feel sick to your stomach and like you're going to pass out.

"No. No!" you scream out as you unwillingly sit up in bed. Your heart is racing and you're afraid that you're going to get sick.

"Baby?" Dean asks softly as he sets a hand onto your shoulder. You hide your face into your hands as you start hyperventilating. "Hey, what happened, sweetheart?"

"I thought... You were..." Your throat feels like it's tightening up on you and you can't breathe right.

"Alright. It's alright," Dean whispers as he pulls you in and holds you tightly to him. "Just calm down." Dean presses a kiss to your head and he rubs a hand up and down your arm. "Please, sweetheart, you've gotta calm down or you're gonna pass out on me." You're crying so hard that you can't breathe and Dean, bless his heart, is trying everything that he can to calm you down some.

"My head hurts," you croak out as you cling tightly onto Dean.

"It's from where you're so upset right now, honey," Dean whispers. "You've got to calm down a bit."

"I'm... trying."

"I know you are but you're gonna pass out on me if you don't slow your breathing." Dean tells you softly as he presses a kiss to your head. "Hey, whatever happened is not real but this is, alright?  I'm right here and we're both okay, sweetheart."

"It was real," you breathe out as tears roll down your cheeks. "The Djinn."

"Sweetheart," Dean breathes out. You let out a loud sob causing Dean's heart to break. "I'm alright now. Thanks to you and Sam for finding me and getting me to the hospital. You saved my life, baby. You took care of me. That's what we do for each other isn't it. Take care of each other?" You nod and Dean tightens his arms around you. "I'm right here because you took care of me, sweetheart," Dean whispers softly to you.

Your head still feels all fuzzy and your throat is tight. "I can't..."

"Feel," Dean tells you as he gently grabs onto your hand and presses it over his heart. "You feel that?" You nod and swallow hard. "That's because of you," Dean whispers as he uses his free hand to gently push some of your hair out of your eyes.

"I'm gonna be sick," you groan as you squeeze your eyes shut. Dean takes a deep breath and pulls you in tightly to him so that you're able to feel his chest rising and falling. You know what he's doing and yet you can't get yourself calmed down enough to follow his lead.

"Honey, please," Dean begs. "I know that you're upset but I need you to calm down for me so that you don't pass out." He's holding you like you're a baby and you're clinging tightly onto his neck for dear life. "Hey, do you remember the day you and I met?"

"Yeah," you choke out. "I know... what you're trying... to do."

"Good," Dean chuckles as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. "You were this shy, gorgeous little thing. Well, not much is different now except that you're even more gorgeous and you're not too shy anymore. Being with me might have something to do with that." You can't help the small laugh that escapes you. "Ah, I like that sound," Dean smiles widely as he presses his lips firmly to your cheek. "You thought that I was stalking you when truthfully I was after the monster who actually was stalking you. Little did I know you knew something was after you and you were playing bait. You were wanting it to make it's move so you could knock it off of it's feet like you did for me. In more ways then one I might add." Dean smirks causing you to roll your eyes a bit at him. Even now he can't stop flirting with you. "What you didn't know was that the person you thought was after you was in fact a big scary monster," Dean chuckles. "I didn't think that I was ever going to convince  you  that a werewolf was after you."

"I called you an idiot for a while," you laugh.

"Still do," Dean chuckles.

"Only when you deserve it," you smile.

"Shh, I'm trying to get to the good part here," Dean smiles. "Where was I? Oh, right. As I was laying there on the pavement after this tiny little girl had flattened me out, effectively knocking the wind out of me, I thought to myself I am not letting this one go."

"And they all lived happily ever after," you smile. Dean chuckles as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips.

"Better now, darlin'?"

"Yeah," you smile softly at Dean as you relax a bit in his hold. "Only because you make it all better."

"Happy to help," Dean whispers as he moves so that you're both laying down. You try and sit up but Dean's arms stop you.

"I don't want to go to sleep," you tell him. "I don't want to have to live through that anymore."

"You've gotta get your beauty rest or else you'll be embarrassed to be seen beside of me," Dean smirks.

"Dork," you laugh as you playfully slap him.

"Alright, you don't have to go to sleep if you don't want to," Dean tells you softly as his eyes hold your gaze. "But I wanna lay like this with you in my arms for a while."

"But if I lay down then I'm gonna go to sleep."

"That's my plan," Dean chuckles. "Sweetheart, I am right here. All you've gotta do is just relax and allow me to love on you some, alright?" You're quiet for a while before you finally nod your head a bit at Dean.

"Okay," you breathe out before laying your head over onto his chest. Dean presses a kiss to your hairline and he tightens his arms around you.

"Do you know that I love you?"

"Well, it isn't like you tell me so about a gazillion times a day."

Dean chuckles as he rubs his nose up against yours. "You're amazing."

"No I'm not."

"Sweetheart, you took on the big job of putting up with me everyday," Dean smiles. "That takes someone special."

You giggle and move your head to hid your face in Dean's neck. "Well, I have a little bit of help when you and Sam go on a hunt. He has to keep you in line for me then."

"You're talking like I'm some five year old little boy," Dean chuckles.

"Oh, no, you're worse than a five year old little boy," you say and you give Dean a wide smile. You squeal out when Dean moves his fingers along your side. "Stop!" you laugh as you try and push Dean's hand away.

"Make me," Dean chuckles.

"Alright," you smile before you lean in to press your lips to Dean's. Dean chuckles and quits tickling you so that he can tangle his hand up in your hair. When you slowly pull away, you're both breathless and Dean smiles widely at you.

"Okay, I'll let you win."

You laugh and you let yourself relax in Dean's arms a bit more. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Promise that you've got me?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," Dean whispers as a wide smile spreads across his face. "Promise, honey. I've got you."

"I am safe?"

"You're safe."

"I'm yours?"

"You're mine."

"One more thing?"

"Anything," Dean grins.

"Hold on to me?"

"Absolutely," Dean breathes out.

"Don't let go?"

Dean chuckles as he tightens his arms around you as much as he can before whispering softly in your ear. "I wouldn't dream of it, baby girl."

Tags: @polina-93 @campingmonkey @justanotherwinchester @squirrelnotsam @adoptdontshoppets @imaginationisgrowth @deanwanddamons @hobby27 @cookiechipdough @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @torn-and-frayed @thatmotleygirl @screechingartisancashbailiff

[surlybobbies]

(1.3k deancas AU - no warnings - rated T - friends to lovers)

Dean’s in so over his head, and he knows it as soon as Cas dims the lights.

“What, we need ambience to drink leaf water?” he asks derisively, hoping Cas can’t hear the nerves in his voice.

Cas is taking his seat by Dean, much closer than he was sitting previously. His knee knocks against Dean’s. “It’s not a blind taste test if you can see, Dean.”

“You could just blindfold me.” Dean wants to stuff the words back in his mouth almost as soon as he says them.

Luckily Cas doesn’t comment on the implications. He just slides his half-lidded gaze toward Dean and says, “We’re handling very hot liquid.” His voice has gone all hushed velvet all of a sudden. “So in this case I don’t think a blindfold is wise.”

“Fair enough,” Dean murmurs. There’s no reason to be quiet, but he feels like any sudden movement or noise might shatter the bubble of peace they’ve made. “How do you want to do this?”

Something about Dean’s answer makes Cas smile. He leans an elbow on the table and reaches for the mug closest to Dean. His leg presses hard against Dean’s. “How about we start from left to right?” He hands the mug to Dean and meets his gaze. “Smell this and tell me what you think.”

Dean hovers his nose over the rim and inhales. “Green tea,” he says almost immediately, his nose wrinkling. “I mean, it’s the only thing Sammy drinks.” He’s glad for the semi-darkness because his face is flaming from the intensity of Cas’s observation.

“Taste it,” Cas says softly, and something about those two words falling from Cas’s lips makes Dean’s throat go dry. 

He lifts the mug and sips at the hot liquid. He lets the flavor sit for a second before he shrugs. “Tastes like leaves,” he says, knowing it sounds stupid but also knowing it’s true.

“No bitterness?”

“Nah,” Dean says, taking another sip and contemplating. “It’s like sipping dirt water.”

Cas’s eye roll is mostly affectionate. “I’m sure there are better ways of describing it, but I suppose that’s accurate.” He takes the mug from Dean and tastes the tea himself, his eyes slipping closed in appreciation. “Green tea can turn bitter if the leaves are steeped too long, but this is actually a perfect cup.” When he opens his eyes, he graces Dean with a soft smile. “It’s a shame you don’t think so.”

Helpless, Dean licks his lips. He’s amazed when Cas’s eyes dip to watch the movement. “Maybe it’ll grow on me,” Dean says faintly.

They stare at each other for a beat, two beats, three beats too long. Dean sees the movement of Cas’s throat as he swallows. It’s excruciatingly slow.

The moment is gone in the next second when Cas tears his eyes away from Dean. He reaches for the second mug. “What about this one?” Cas murmurs. His voice in the stillness of his apartment, the brush of his hand against Dean’s, makes Dean shiver.

The tea is strong, the fragrance almost cloyingly sweet. “Smells like candy,” Dean says, interested despite himself. He drinks, then lifts an unimpressed gaze to Cas. “And it tastes like someone tossed their gumwad in a cup of water and called it tea.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “It’s actually an artisanal tea from South Korea.”

“Ah,” Dean says, not quite sure how to save face. “It’s...unique.”

Cas takes the mug and stares at the surface of the tea. To Dean, it looks like pond water in the dim light, but he thinks Cas would probably have described it as amber, or the color of the sunset reflected on a pond, or something equally as poetic. Dean still isn’t sure what he’s even doing here, sitting in Cas’s apartment, being blessed with his time and his tea and his smile.

Amazingly, Cas seems amused as he says (almost as if he wants Dean to fall in love), “I know our tastes are very different, Dean, so don’t worry about offending me.” He looks at the three other mugs he prepared. “Judging by how this has gone, however, I’m not sure you’ll enjoy the rest.”

Dean almost chokes to get the next words out: “I’m sure as hell gonna try.”

The way Cas looks at him - affectionate, grateful, like Dean means something to him - almost makes it worth it when Dean burns his tongue on the next cup.

 “Oh,” Cas breathes, reaching for Dean’s shoulder in alarm. “I’m so sorry. Black tea needs hotter water. I wasn’t thinking–“

Dean waves off his concern, but he lets Cas’s hand trail down his arm until it’s clutching Dean’s elbow, because he’ll take Cas’s hands where he can get them. “I’m fine,” he eventually manages to say. “It’s not that bad.” It feels like his tongue’s been scraped raw, but he already looks like a dumbass so he doesn’t say that.

Cas’s gaze is painfully fond. The hand at Dean’s elbow tightens for a second. “I would have preferred you come away from the experience without injury, but I appreciate you trying.”

Dean feels lit up from the inside out, and he’s not sure he can blame it on the tea. He shrugs, face hot. “I mean, tea can’t be all bad if you like it.”

Cas looks down. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, “I like a lot of other things, you know.”

Dean does know; it’s not like he can help his attraction to Cas. He knows Cas likes to write, that he likes to read, that he likes to hike and bike and explore and watch the wildlife in the spring. He knows Cas likes cream puffs and period dramas and soft blankets and early mornings. He knows Cas like the back of his hand at this point, but still he asks, “Yeah? Like what?”

Cas lifts his gaze to Dean’s. His answer is tentative. “Like you.”

Dean is at a loss. “Like me?” he stammers.

“I like you, Dean” Cas says softly, blinking at the spare bit of floor he can see between their knees, still pressed against each other. “A lot.”

The last bit was barely more than a whisper, but in the stillness of Cas’s apartment it sends reverberations through Dean’s chest that leave him short of breath. Slowly, he cradles Cas’s jaw with a hand and lifts Cas’s gaze to his. Cas’s face is flushed even in the dim light, but his eyes are clear and wide. 

Dean is a nervous wreck, but he leans in, watching Cas’s face. He hears Cas’s inhale, sees the way his lips part. It’s like every dream Dean has ever had of Cas, except this time Dean gets to follow through. He kisses Cas.

Then he almost knocks over three mugs with his elbow when Cas kisses back.

They go to bed. 

--

In the morning, Dean wakes up first. He steeps some tea leaves in hot water and brings it to Cas in bed, shaking him awake before it cools. Cas’s expression turns tender when he realizes Dean’s gesture, even after he tastes the tea and wrinkles his nose in distaste at the bitterness. “Thank you for trying,” he says, smiling down at the mug. “You really don’t have to pretend to care about my hobbies, though. You’ve been burned enough. Literally.”

Thing is, Dean does care about Cas’s hobbies because he cares about Cas. He’s not sure how to say that just yet, so he just reclaims the mug and tastes it himself. His tongue is still a little tender, but the bitterness distracts him from the pain. “Steeped it too long, didn’t I?” he asked, making a face.

“Water was also probably too hot,” Cas says, but he’s looking at Dean so fondly that it doesn’t feel like a criticism.

“I’ll get it right one day,” Dean says, putting the mug on the nightstand.

Cas’s smile is wide. It’s incandescent. It warms Dean through like a cup of tea. 

Cas tugs him back into bed.

----

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