#he’d stay with Dean forever if he knew Dean wanted that

[thefabledpheasant]

So, we all know that Cas branded Dean’s soul with the handprint. And then in his last scene left a bloody handprint on Dean’s jacket.

But, have we ever considered that this last handprint was Cas letting dean go? Like, literally removing the handprint brand he left on his soul? That it’s Castiel saying, “I love you so much that I’m dying for you and freeing you from the claim I made on you. I know you are not mine even if I will always be yours and that’s ok. Please live a good life now that my burden is gone from you.”

And if that’s the case, do you think Dean could feel it? The mark being gone? Do you think that left an emptiness nothing else could fill and that’s one of the reasons he was so fine with dying? Because for the first time since he met him, there was truly nothing of Cas left on Earth or with Dean?

[caplanbuckybarnes]

In The Lonely Shadows (2/2) Dean W.

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben.

the first part of this was requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists. 

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: people were rabid about asking me for a part two. So please, enjoy!

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, dean returns. sassy & protective crowley

[READ PART ONE HERE]

Read on Ao3!

--

Dean watched as your chest heaved up and down with every breath you took. The wind was howling outside, with rain pouring down. He was only partially soaked, having run for cover under teh pitiful awning above your hotel door. A suitcase was tucked into one hand and a backpack filled with supplies slung over the shoulder. He'd wanted to say goodbye before he left. But he couldn't. He was a coward, after all. He'd had a few visits from Castiel and Crowley, neither of them saying a word about you.

Though, he asked. He hasn’t spoken a word about Sam, either. The horror of watching Sam fall into the pits of Hell with Adam devastated him. So he ran away. He ran away to the person who would get him away from the hunter’s life, Lisa and Ben. He played pretend for as long as he possibly could.

Until he couldn’t keep up with the facade anymore. All he did was think about you, and the life the pair of you could have had. He’d find himself hovering over your name in his cellphone but never pressing the call button. Oftentimes, he’s stay up late at night, while Lisa laid peacefully next to him sleeping.  He knew he couldn’t lie to her forever about what - or who - truly had his heart.

Oftentimes, when he dreamed, it was about you, your face and your hands wrapped tightly in his as you started behind him on hunts. Thats what he loved about you the most, how much you trusted him to protect you.

So months after he departed, he located you in this dingy motel, where rodents and garbage littered the parking lot, and a few street lamps flickered dangerously in this damned storm. He’d gotten a replacement key to your room, claiming to the sketchy old man at the kiosk that he was your husband and you didn’t leave the key outside for him. So, on the threshold of the hotel room is where he stood, his fight or flight response kicking in the moment he laid eyes on you again.

He hadn’t seen you in months, far too long. But not long enough to forget the way your cheeks puffed out while you were embarrassed or the way your hair always fell into your face when you’d laugh at his stupid jokes. He couldn’t forget the way you would shuffle into his warmth at night, either.

God, did he miss the way you infected all of his clothing with your perfumes. 

He hesitantly stepped into the room, only to stop midway through in almost a panic. What if you moved on? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you shot him? He wondered at that moment if you held any protection on you, or if you’d thrown all of it away.

But he took the chance anyway and stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him quietly. He quietly toed out of his shoes and turned around before fully surveying the room. He couldn’t see any other person’s belongings in the room, so he assumed you were indeed alone.

Nervously, he tiptoed to the bed and studied your face for a long moment. He remembered everything about you-- your eyelashes, the dimple on your cheek. He wanted to reach out to you, nearly stopping himself as he felt his arm move without his command. He brushed his fingers against your cheek before he knew what he was doing and stepped back as your eyes had flung open in terror.

“Y/N,Y/N, it’s me, it’s Dean,” he said, reaching behind him for the pistol he always carried with him, though, he would never attempt to hurt you in any sort of way. “Hey, hey.”

“Dean?” you blinked through the darkness of the room. You must have been sleeping. Because you thought you heard Dean’s voice. And you thought you seen him standing mere inches away from where you slept on the bed.

Before he could get the chance to respond, another voice filled the room, a voice you’d come to recognize and acknowledge throughout these last few months.

“She doesn’t need you, Squirrel. She’s doing great without you.” Crowley’s voice echoed in the small room. 

Pulling yourself into a sitting position on the bed, you wiped at your eyes before switching your gaze between the pair in front of you. Crowley had been watching you over the weeks, which you had grown weirdly accustomed to, so it was no surprise that he had appeared out of the blue. What had startle you, was the other man standing mere inches away from you. If you just lifted your arm a few inches, you would be able to clasp your hands together.

“You left her high and dry after Moose had fallen into the depths of Hell, where, mind you, he’s been shacking it up with Lucifer. You should hear the agonies and woes from him.”

You could see the agitated twitch in Dean’s cheekbones, even in the poor excuse of light shining through the cracked window curtains.

“But now, back to the matter at hand, hmm?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the two-night lamps turned on, casting the room in sudden brightness that none of you was prepared for.

“How’s Lisa and Ben?” Crowley smirked as Dean looked entirely uncomfortable at the jabs. “Didn’t want to be a family man anymore, huh? Did she decide she didn’t want your baggage?”

“It’s none of your business, Crowley,” Dean quipped. He snuck a look towards you and almost melted at the sight of tears in your eyelids. He wanted to erase the heartbreak he had caused you. He wanted to erase the pain away from you.

He only wanted you to forgive him. He wanted you and only you. He wished he hadn’t run off after Sam had gone to Hell, but he was broken and insecure. He was scared that you would leave him as well, so he did the only thing he could think of doing at the time: He ran away.

He begged for Lisa to forgive him, and she did. She took him in immediately, even after he explained all that went down with Lucifer and Adam and Sam. She took care of him. And for a while, he could forget all the pain. He could mourn the loss of his brother in peace. But there had always been a hole in his heart that Lisa nor ben would veer be able to fill.

He hadn’t known it at the time until he had sat up the night before and wallowed in misery after having nothing but dreams and nightmares about you for months.

“No harsh words, Not Moose?” Crowley taunted as he took a step toward you, causing Dean to nearly topple backwards onto the bed you were still sitting on. “No quips? Nothing? What do you have to say for yourself? Because while you were playing house, I was left to pick up the piece of her broken heart! How noble of you.  Leave her behind to wallow in misery, and now what? You expect her to swoon because you're back? Pathetic."”

You never thought you would see the day when the king of hell would be red in the face at the Winchesters. But here he was, pointing a threatening finger in Dean’s direction while the other man looked like a kicked puppy. 

You wanted Crowley to stop the insults at Dean. But the fact that he was protecting you in this way meant so much to you. You never knew how much Crowley actually cared about you. 

"I bet she’s just thrilled to have you back. Nothing says 'I care' like a good old-fashioned abandonment, right?" Crowley scoffed.

“Crowley, enough,” you sighed as you finally pushed the duvet away from your body and stood up, causing Dean to look at you with hope. With your request, Crowley quieted down, though he didn’t cease the glare or scowl on his features. Ignoring him, you took a breath, taking Dean’s height in stride. “So, what? You show up at my doorstep and nearly scare me to death, for what?”

“I was wrong,” Dean swallowed, blinking slowly as tears piled against his eyelids. “I never should have left you the way i had. You were mourning Sam as well, and I was a coward for leaving you. I never once stopped thinking about you. I never once let you out of my mind. Lisa knew it, Ben knew it.’

“I’m not forgiving you, Dean.” you held your ground, even as you had to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “How could I forgive you? Do you know what the hell I’ve been through? You weren’t the only one to lose a brother, you know? Sam was my family as well.”

He opened his mouth, only for you to cut him off.

“It’s been fourteen months, Dean—fourteen long, terrible months. I celebrated Sam’s birthday without you. I celebrated your birthday without you. Crowley was the only one to check with me. Do you know he saved me from death on numerous occasions? That could have been you.”

He looked utterly defeated at the mention of the birthday celebrations. He could only imagine you singing to yourself with some cheap cake and a gas station lighter, wishing for the family you once held as you blew out the candles.

“Dean, I don’t know whether to hit you, kiss you, or put a bullet in you.” you scowled, pushing past him to walk over to the bathroom to wash your face. Leaving the door open, you heard Dean shuffle around Crowley to get to you again. 

“I can’t leave you, not again. Never again,” he watched your reflection as you grabbed for a hand towel and wiped the water from your face. 

Glaring at him momentarily, you sighed heavily before turning around and leaning against the counter. “Crowley will kill me for this. But I can’t help but think that I’m still in love with you. We can talk more about this in the morning. I had a long few weeks, and I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Eagerly, Dean followed you out of the bathroom, barely noticing Crowley’s absence as he tucked you into the bed before he climbed in himself.

--

**totally up for a part three IF people want it. So please, please, please, if you enjoyed this reblog this & leave comments.

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ AS LONG AS YOU’RE MINE

KISS ME TOO FIERCELY, HOLD ME TOO TIGHT / / I NEED HELP BELIEVING YOU’RE WITH ME TONIGHT

dean winchester x gn!reader

a/n: this is s3 dean reimagined, no ruby!!! i can’t wait to hear as long as you’re mine in wicked pt2 (i feel like writing a p2 to this lol lmk)

18+ content. minors dni.

let them come.

the hellhounds were scratching and gnawing at the doors, they have been for at least 10 minutes now, but dean wouldn’t let up. he’d make every moment with you last if it was the last thing he did. and it was.

he’d barged into your room about an hour ago, sweaty and disheveled, and the only words to have come out of his mouth since then have been

“help me believe.”

dean hadn’t specified what he wanted to believe in, it could be you, sam, that he wouldn’t be in hell forever, that he’d live. but it didn’t matter what it meant- you’d help him.

you both knew, realistically, that there was no future for you two. dean was undeniably going to hell, the hellhounds outside were evidence enough, and you had nothing to do but wait. you both knew that, but you didn’t care.

there has always been some unspoken thing between you two, but the circumstances never really let you explore it, and now dean knew that whatever little time he had left, he’d want to spend it with you.

dean would steal moonlight if it meant staying with you all night, forever if he could. but right now, he was left with just holding you, as long as you were his.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Liar part 2

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, John Winchester x daughter!reader

Synopsis: John goes after you and Dean after you left him behind.

A/N: here’s part 2! I hadn’t planned on this, but I got some inspiration so here it is. Not really my favorite, but it’s alright.

Previously on:

"Dean? Why didn't you want me to go back to the room?"

"Can't you just trust me?"

"Don't say that, I do trust you, always. But I wanna know."

Dean tried his best to force a smile on his lips as he reached over and ruffled your hair.

"Doesn't matter sweetheart. What matters is, you're safe, and we're gonna be ok."

"What about dad?"

Dean forced himself to look over at you, and he felt a pang in his chest when he saw you. You were curled in on yourself, looking up at him. You looked so small.

Honey, I need you to just trust me. Please, can you do that for me?"

You didn't even hesitate.

"Ok Dean. I trust you."

You were true to your word. Over the next several days, Dean drove you as far away as possible from John, stopping every night at dingy motels. Each night while you slept, Dean searched for a job, trying to make this trip seem less aimless.

Even though you had no clue where you were going, or why Dean had left dad in the dust, you didn’t ask Dean about it again. He asked you to trust him, and he was incredibly proud to discover that you trusted him this much. Enough to leave dad for the time being, to travel across the country, and not ask him why, simply because he had asked you not to.

Your patience could not last forever, though, and that night when Dean informed you that you’d be driving through the night, you finally brought up the cursed topic.

“Dean?”

Dean turned down the music and glanced over at you.

“What’s up?”

“When are we gonna see dad again?”

Dean sighed. He knew this would have to come up eventually.

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t stay mad at him forever. He has to be worried about us.”

Dean shook his head, “It’s not about being mad at him.”

“Then what? What’s important enough to make you leave him behind?”

Dean just stared at you.

…

It took three weeks for John to track down his children. He sat in the motel parking lot, debating his options. He’d arrived there just after ten at night, and even though he’d found one of Dean’s aliases checked into a room, he didn’t see the Impala anywhere. Dean must’ve been out to a bar. Not that it mattered, because after weeks of searching John was just now realizing something; he had no clue what he was going to do.

He’d thought about reasoning with Dean, but he was kidding himself. Dean always obeyed John, always, but John had never seen him more determined than when he stormed out to take you away. Dean wouldn’t be giving up.

But John couldn’t either. He couldn’t let you stay with Dean and become weak. Being weak meant you were vulnerable, and being vulnerable meant you could die. He wouldn’t let that happen. And if that meant taking you on hunts, then so be it, and screw what Dean thought.

John finally stepped out of his car, his mind made up.

…

You were rudely awoken from your sleep by a loud knock at the door. After two days of barely any sleep in the Impala, you had decided to hit the hay early while Dean went out for a drink.

You figured he’d probably forgotten his key, so you rolled out of bed and went to open the door.

You most certainly weren’t expecting John to be standing there when you opened it.

“Dad,” you breathed, your face lighting up. You restrained yourself from going in for a hug after what happened last time, and instead decided to see what he did. If he was in a good mood, maybe he’d let you greet him properly, but if something was going on, if danger was near, then you figured it was better to let him get down to business.

“Hey kiddo,” he spared you a half smile before glancing around the room. “Dean’s gone, right?”

You frowned, hesitating before responding.

“Yeah, he went out for a drink.”

Why had it sounded like John wanted Dean to be gone?

“Great, get your stuff and let’s hit the road.”

Your instincts told you to obey, but you stayed rooted to the spot, too confused to listen.

“Without Dean?”

John rubbed a hand over his face, “Look, it’s been a long day, and I don’t want any arguments. Let’s go.”

“Are we gonna get Dean first?”

John’s patience was beginning to wear thin.

“No, no we’re not. Now get your stuff.”

Your stubbornness wasn’t wavering.

“I don’t understand. What about Dean?”

John gritted his teeth, “Dean has a job he needs to work on here. We’re going. Now I won’t tell you again, get your stuff.”

You snatched your bag up and tried to find a reason to stall.

You weren’t really sure why; after all, you had been following a chain of command your whole life. John told Dean what to do, Dean told you what to do, that’s the way it had always been. You trusted it. You trusted Dean and John. But now…

Now you were starting to wonder if you trusted John because you trusted Dean.

And now, after Dean had run off on John for who knew what reason, and John was telling you to leave Dean behind…

What did you do? Who did you trust?

“Kid,” you nearly flinched when John clapped a hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, time’s wasting.” His tone was softer now, and you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe Dean really wasn’t fighting with dad, maybe it really was just some job.

You could trust John. Dean trusted John, and you trusted Dean. Dean practically sung John’s praises, so he had to be safe.

You looked up at your father and smiled.

“Yeah ok. Let’s go.”

…

John drove through the night, parked in a clump of trees on the side of the road for a few hours sleep, and then drove until midnight before the two of you finally stopped at a motel.

“Get some sleep,” John instructed. “In the morning we’ve got a job.”

Your head jerked up, and you frowned.

“We? As in…I’m going?”

John grinned at you.

“Yeah. I think it’s about time for your first hunt. You’ve been training with Dean, right?”

You fidgeted nervously, “I mean…yeah, I know how to kill a lot of different types of monsters, and he showed me how to use a gun and a knife and-“

“Good,” John interrupted. “Then get some rest, tomorrow’s the day.”

“But…but I thought you and Dean thought I should wait.” At least that’s what Dean said.

John just shook his head, “Dean can think what he wants. But I think you’re ready.”

…

Dean wasn’t sure how frantic he should be. For about forty-five seconds, he’d been freaking out, before he saw the symbol you left on a scrap of paper on the dresser.

It was an upside-down J, the symbol he’d taught you to leave if dad stopped by while he was gone.

Years earlier

“Ok, so let’s go over it again.”

“Dean, this is stupid. What are these even for anyway?”

Dean scoffed, “It’s not stupid if something comes to get you while me and Sam are gone.”

“But if it gets me, how is this gonna help?”

“Look, kid. If something happens, and I get back to the hotel, and you aren’t here, I need to know why. If you need to be on your own for a little bit, there’s a symbol for that. If you get taken by cops, we’ll know where to look. If it’s humans, we’ll have a place to start. You get where I’m going with this?”

You sighed, “Yeah ok ok. I guess that makes sense. But how am I supposed to leave this symbol if-“

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a fool proof plan. Most likely you won’t get a chance to leave me a message, but if you do, you won’t have time to think about it. That’s why you need to memorize these symbols well, so that if you do get only a split second to give me a clue, you know how to do it.”

You nodded, glancing at the symbols again before smiling up at Dean.

“You know, you’re kinda smart sometimes.”

“Yeah well, I have my moments.”

Now

So John had you. Definitely not the end of the world, but there could be only one reason John would come in while Dean was gone and take you.

He wanted you to hunt.

Dean had never struggled with family loyalty like this before. His life had been simple for so long. Do what dad said, dad knew best, dad would protect the family.

But now dad wanted to put you in danger, and Dean knew you weren’t ready. You wouldn’t ever be ready.

It wasn’t your fault, you were a hard worker, and you would do whatever Dean said. You would train all day, every day, if Dean told you to. But hunting wasn’t an instinct for you, not the way it was for Sam and Dean.

Besides, even if it had been, Dean didn’t want you out there hunting until you were old enough to choose that life. He and Sam hadn’t had a choice, they’d grown up hunting and now they were stuck doing it. Dean wanted you to have a choice. If you chose hunting, then Dean would make sure you were trained enough for it. If you chose something else, well then you hadn’t made any enemies yet, so hopefully getting out would be an option for you.

But it wouldn’t be if John had anything to say about it. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve said that he’d do anything John told him to do.

Apparently he would’ve been wrong.

…

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you, begging with you, desperately pleading for you to just run. The plea was deafening.

But John yelled louder.

“Kill it!”

You were trying. You really were.

You backed away from the vampire that had cornered you, swinging your machete wildly but unable to get the vampire’s head off. Quite the contrary, you seemed to only be pissing him off.

You gave another, desperate swing, and the vampire grabbed your arm, twisting it until you had no choice but to drop your weapon.

He stooped to pick it up, still holding onto your arm.

“Now what were you planning on doing with this, huh?” He twisted it in his hand, and a cry of pain escaped you when the machete sliced a long, deep cut along your ribs. His iron grip was the only thing keeping you on your feet as you hunched over your injury.

You saw a flash of metal as the vampire lifted the machete to strike a fatal blow, most likely about to lob off your head.

You heard the swish of metal, and closed your eyes tightly so you wouldn’t have to watch. You hoped it wouldn’t hurt, that you would be dead instantly.

You waited. One. Two. Three.

You hesitantly opened your eyes when you felt the hand gripping you go slack. The vampire was at your feet. Or, most of him was. His head had rolled several feet away. You felt your stomach twist, and you cried out as a sharp pain in your ribs dropped you to your knees.

John’s strong arms lifted you up, and the two of you were silent as he half carried, half dragged you to the car. Of course the silence could only last so long, and not long after the door to the car slammed shut, the yelling started.

Dean or even Sam would’ve been completely prepared for John’s blowup, especially after a job went as wrong as this one did. You, however, were finally beginning to realize just how wrong you were in your view of your father.

You were finally beginning to realize just how much Dean had lied to you about him.

…

It didn’t take Dean long to track down John’s alias. Thankfully, he wasn’t trying too hard to hide. Dean figured that John was fine with being found, and was just assuming that Dean would “cool off” and listen to John. Well, Dean had no intention of changing his mind.

He pounded on the motel door, and waited a grand total of seventeen seconds before kicking it down.

John jerked his head up from where he was cleaning a knife, and Dean’s eyes swept right past him until he saw you, sitting on one of the hotel beds, a needle in your hand and blood dripping down an open wound across your ribs.

“Dean, what the-“

Dean ignored his father and rushed to you, his eyes going first to your wound and then to your face, his hands reaching up and grabbing your shoulders.

“Hey baby, are you ok?”

The second your eyes landed on your older brother, your whole body seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and he could see in your eyes how happy you were to see him.

“Dean…” the one word seemed all you could manage, but John was well ready to make up for that.

“Dean, you can’t just come charging in here! You have a job-“

“This is my job!” Dean whipped around to face his father, his voice raising until he noticed you flinching out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his voice, placing a hand back on your shoulder before continuing. “Watching out for her, that’s my job, you’ve made that clear since the day you brought her home. So now, I’m gonna stitch her up, and I-“

“I told you to train her, not baby her! She can stitch her own wound, it’s about time she learned how!”

You swallowed as you stared down at the needle in your hand. You had stitched up Sam and Dean many times, but the idea of putting the needle into your own skin was…sickening, to say the least.

Dean gritted his teeth, “She shouldn’t have to. I can take care of her.“

“You can’t-“

“And the rest of this conversation can wait until your daughter isn’t bleeding out on the bed!”

Surprisingly, John fell silent as Dean began getting you ready to be stitched up.

“Lay back,” he instructed as he sterilized the needle. You did as he said, nervously watching his hands as he worked. He smiled down at you.

“You should probably look somewhere else. It’ll hurt worse if you watch.”

You obeyed, turning your eyes from your wound to Dean’s face. He focused on his stitching at first, but once he had started he was able to focus more on you.

“So, what’d you hunt?”

“Vamps.” Your voice was quiet, and Dean could hear the barely concealed pain behind it.

“Yeesh, that must’ve been hard. Aren’t you Team Edward?”

You giggled, which made Dean’s job harder, but it was worth it to distract you from the pain.

“Hey now, I told you I watched the Twilight movies ironically.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They’re fun to make fun of!”

“Oh I’m sure princess. So, how many did you take out?”

You grinned, “Two.”

“Nice, Edward and his brother.”

“Sister, actually. And you know that thing about vamps always being hot?”

“Yeah?”

“Total myth, I mean this lady was ugly even before her head was rolling across the floor.”

Dean laughed, and you joined in before stopping with a gasp of pain.

“Ok, yeah maybe laughter was a bad idea.” Dean returned to silence for several seconds as he worked on your stitches. The tension in the room was palpable, but Dean finished the stitches quickly before John could start a fight again.

“Alright, you’re all set. Now go grab a clean shirt and change in the bathroom.” Dean helped you up and pulled you into a hug, kissing your head and whispering so John wouldn’t hear; “stay in there until I come get you, ok?”

You gave him a barely perceptible nod as you grabbed a clean shirt and disappeared into the small motel bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“So,” Dean sighed, facing his father. “I heard you, before I came in. You were yelling at her. Why? What happened on that hunt?” He stepped towards his father, “And more importantly, how could you let her get hurt? Why weren’t you watching her? This was her first hunt, anything could’ve happened!”

“How could I let her? Watch your tone, boy, I didn’t let anything happen. She was useless out there! I thought you said you trained her!”

“I didn’t train her to hunt!”

John froze.

“What?”

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to diffuse his anger at least a little.

“I didn’t train her to hunt.”

“But she said-“

“I taught her how to use weapons, how to identify monsters, but I didn’t teach her how to hunt. I taught her self defense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, that if she gets attacked, she can defend herself, that’s it! I didn’t show her how to hunt, because she’s too young to be in this life! But if something or someone goes after her, she’ll be fine.”

John scoffed, “Well all your coddling has done is insured that she can’t hold her ground in a fight!”

“You’re right!” Dean exploded, “And she shouldn’t have to! I taught her all the best ways to get to safety!”

“She needs to know how-“

“How to what? To kill?” Dean was almost nose-to-nose with John. “No. She doesn’t. I’m not gonna teach her to kill. I’m gonna teach her to survive.”

Dean brushed past John and went to the bathroom door, knocking lightly on it.

“Honey? You ready to come out?”

You opened the door slowly, and Dean didn’t miss the way your head was lowered just enough for your hair to veil your face. Dean placed one hand at the back of your head, and with the other one he gently lifted your chin up.

You sniffled, trying—and failing—to blink your tears away. Dean pulled you into a hug, ignoring John’s scoff from the corner of the room.

“You did your best today, kid,” Dean’s voice was soft and quiet, and you pulled yourself closer to him, comforted by his tone. “And you’re never gonna do that again, ok? I’m never gonna make you hunt.”

“Hold on,” John would not stay silent anymore. “Dean, you can’t keep her out of this, it’s our lives.”

“Not hers!” Dean pulled away from you, but kept a hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “Not if she doesn’t want it. I trained her the way I did for a reason; if she wants to hunt when she’s older, then I’ll train her to the next level. If she doesn’t, then she knows enough to defend herself, but she hasn’t made any enemies. You’re not gonna mess that up, you aren’t gonna drag her into this life with no choice.”

John scoffed, “Well then why don’t we ask her?” John turned his laser beam face to you, “Baby, I want you to come with me. I’ll show you how to hunt, properly this time, since Dean won’t.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

This was your father, the man you’d looked up to for your whole life. The one Dean had looked up to for as long as you could remember.

But then you looked at the machete on the table, remembered how wrong it had felt in your hands. How scared you’d been going up against those vamps. How much you just wanted Dean to come and get you and take you back to the motel. How wrong it had felt to kill those vampires, to watch their heads roll across the floor, even though they’d tried to kill you.

You knew more than anything that you didn’t want to hunt. That wasn’t the life for you. But it was more than that.

John was asking you to choose him over Dean. This was not a situation you had ever imagined you would be in, and yet you knew instantly what choice to make.

There were many reasons for your choice, but one memory came to your mind as one of the best reasons.

Years ago

“He’s not coming, is he?”

Dean threw an arm around your shoulder, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“I’m sure things just got a little hairy with that wendigo. He’ll be back in a day or so, though.”

“I think he might’ve forgotten.” You weren’t about to tell Dean, but that morning you had called John, desperate to hear his voice on your birthday. He had answered, surprisingly, but as soon as he found out that there was no emergency, he’d hung up with a simple, “I’ll be home soon…ish.”

He hadn’t said “happy birthday”, or “sorry I couldn’t be there”, or anything like that. You were almost sure he’d forgotten.

“Of course he didn’t forget,” Dean assured you, with so much conviction that you were starting to believe him. If Dean thought that John was so great, then surely he was right. Dean was always right, and he wouldn’t lie to you.

“Tell you what,” Dean continued. “Go sit in Baby, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

You obeyed eagerly, and as soon as you sat in the passengers seat, Dean handed you a small parcel wrapped in a newspaper.

You tore it open to reveal a cassette tape.

“What’s-“

“It’s a mixtape,” Dean was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s got all your favorites on it.”

You giggled, “what happened to driver picks-“

“Eh eh, House rules still stand, but, if you’re lucky, or it’s a special occasion, I might just let you pop that in once in a while.”

You grinned up at Dean.

“Special occasions…like my birthday?”

Dean laughed, “Stick it in, birthday girl! I wanna make sure I got all your favorites on there.”

Two hours and a lot of karaoke later, you assured Dean that he had in fact got all of your favorites on there, and he smiled at you for a moment before-

“You wanna play them again?”

Now

“No.”

John stared at you.

“What?”

You swallowed hard, nervously fingering the sleeve of Dean’s jacket as you stared back at your father.

“No. I don’t wanna hunt, and I want to be with Dean.”

“You…” John seemed at a loss for words. He couldn’t comprehend his baby girl picking her brother over her father.

“I want Dean.”

Even though your voice was quiet, the authority and surety in it was undeniable.

John didn’t speak. He simply grabbed his bag and walked out the door, leaving his children alone as he drove off.

“He’ll be back,” Dean assured you, and even though neither of you knew it at the time, he was right. John might not always be right about family, but he wouldn’t abandon them.

“Ok,” Dean was surprised at your tone. You didn’t sound as though you really cared if John came back.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked, sitting down on the bed so he was closer to eye level with you.

You sat down next to him and curled yourself into his side.

“I am now.”

Eventually, Dean laid back onto the bed, and you went with him, and the two of you laid there for a while, wrapped up together in a contented state. Dean was just about to drift off to sleep when you spoke.

“You lied to me. About dad.”

Dean’s voice came out in a sigh, and his chest rumbled under your head as he spoke

“I know.”

“Dean?”

Dean hummed.

“Thank you.”

[impala-dreamer]

Before The First Light

A Supernatural Story

~ With Michael pounding away in his head, ready to break free at any moment, Dean realizes he has no other choice but to do what Billie says and lock himself away forever. He hadn't planned on telling her, hadn't planned on a goodbye, but Y/N wouldn't let him leave without one more night...~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

3,126 Words

Warnings: Angsty Angst. Kissy Kiss. Saddy Sad. 

A/N: This was a commission and I def made myself cry a bit. Please give it a reblog if you read it <3 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard properly.

Something about a box and being buried in the deepest part of the ocean. Something about Dean locking himself away for all eternity to ensure that Michael stayed captive. Something about choosing everlasting torment instead of fighting, instead of looking for an answer. Something about leaving them all alone, leaving her alone.

When Mary called, Y/N hadn’t been far. She had been ‘borrowing’ a text from the library at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, something old and illustrated in gold foil. A book that Castiel thought would help. As soon as she heard the worry in Mary’s voice, she pointed her little Toyota towards Hibbings and pushed the gas pedal to the floorboard.

She stood now, silently staring into the barn; her small frame illuminated by the glow of sunset behind her. Sam and Dean were arguing, standing on either side of a large metal coffin. It was crudely made and inlaid with hand-formed sigils. The bitter scent of fading gas and burning metal hung in the air. The struggle in both of their tones struck her first; their words only becoming clear after the shock settled.

He had found a way to lock Michael away forever.

Moreover, he’d found a way to kill himself without actually doing it.

Y/N held her breath and clutched the doorframe. She knew if she moved, she’d fall; if she spoke, she’d break down.

“I won’t be talked out of this! I won’t…”

Dean’s voice hit her like a truck. Her chest ached and her stomach churned. She exhaled and bit back a cry.

Amazingly, Sam was silent. She could only see his back, but his tiny movements made it clear that he was unhappy but stuck between a mountain and a hard place.

“I’m doing this. Now, you could either let me do it alone,” Dean said, dropping the frustration and pleading with his brother. “Or… you could help me.”

She wanted to scream. At Dean or Sam, she couldn’t work out, but something needed to be said. Something needed to be done to stop him, change his mind, and slap some sense back into him.

“...But I’m doin’ this.”

Still, Sam was silent.

Y/N watched from the gap in the wooden door, awed by the way Sam seemed to give in. He shook his head slightly, looked away, and then back. He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling as the decision formed in his mind.

“Alright.” His whisper was pained and Dean closed his eyes, letting go of a heavy sigh.

Y/N snapped.

She yanked open the door and glared at the Winchester idiots. She was shaking; blood rushing in her ears like a jet engine. With a quivering lip, she let out a roar twice the size of her petite frame.

“Alright?!”

Sam was startled, all but jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck do you mean, alright?”

Dean seemed to curl in on himself. He hadn’t expected to see her, hadn’t even wanted to tell her what he had planned. He looked at her, sadness spread across his handsome face. “Y/N-”

She trembled in the doorway, her hair wild and glowing with the golden dregs of dusk. Her faith darkened like the sky.

“What is wrong with you!”

Sam turned to face her with wet eyes and a hopeless expression. “Y/N, it’s not-”

She took a step inside, body propelled forward as if it meant to strike them both down. “Don’t you dare say it’s not what I think. I know exactly what the fuck this is, Sam!”

She looked at Dean. His eyes were dry but tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how hard the last year had been for him. The possession, the release, the back and forth, and now- Michael pounding away in his skull like a thousand battering rams. Her heart broke for him and yet, she couldn’t hold back. “How could you?”

Her voice came out like a sick whisper, full of spears, aiming at the very core of him.

He flinched. He shook his head gently, unsure of how to tell her all the things he needed to. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t ready - or willing - to say goodbye to her.

“How?” she asked again, tears breaking free and spilling down her face. They glistened in the final rays of sunset while she waited for an answer.

Dean looked down at the box. He ran his fingertips over the top and closed his eyes. The first task was done and he was resolved to see it through to the next. He just had to keep himself from cracking, from splitting open as he looked at his brother and his love. He had to steel his heart, and stay the course.

His hand curled into a fist.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t manage more than a meager, breathy reply.

She laughed. It wasn’t funny, but she laughed. “You’re sorry?” Her hand fell from the splintered wood. “You’re sorry. You’re gonna do this and you’re sorry. We have watch you try to kill yourself - again - and you’re sorry.”

Again, his lips parted but nothing came out. There was no defense he could give, no reasoning that would make her OK with any of it.

Y/N grit her teeth, dug her heels into the creaky wood floor. She waited, silently begging him to say something- anything.

He looked up at her through thick lashes, his chin dipped low and his hands stuck on the lid of the coffin.

Anger and fear stormed in her chest and she shook her head, giving up.

She met Dean’s eye and frowned. “Fuck you.”

He didn’t even react. He knew he deserved it.

She turned to leave and Sam spoke up, his voice crackling with his own frustration and pain.

“Y/N, wait-”

Her head snapped back and she glared over her shoulder at him. “Oh. And fuck you too, Sam. Goddamn coward.”

The driveway was made of loose gravel and the month had been dry. Dust billowed under her sneakers as she ran from the barn, from reality, from him. She wasn’t really leaving- she’d never be able to fully walk away from him- but she knew if she stayed in that barn, she’d end up burning it down.

She heard him following. The rocks crunched under his boots and his breath was heavy. Crying while running wasn’t good for him.

She stopped a few feet from his car.

That goddamned Impala and the man driving it had changed her entire life, and she wasn’t about to change it again. Not this way. Not by losing him to a fucking box.

Dean caught up but she moved again before he could reach for her. His hand fell in the space she created between them.

“Can we talk about this?” he asked, voice gritty and low.

Y/N dropped her head and kicked at the gravel. “I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

He took a step closer. “I want to.”

Spinning to look at him, she crossed her arms over her chest, symbolically keeping him away.

He was silent for a moment, unable to begin or even decide where to.

Y/N clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Well?”

Dean dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t start that crap with me.”

“What crap?”

She sighed. “That puppy-dog, teary-eyed, apology crap. I don’t want it. It’s bullshit.”

He tensed. “It’s not bullshit.”

“If you’re sorry then why go through with it?”

Dean looked away and caught his breath. “You overheard us in there. You know why.”

“No.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear that you think the only way to save everyone- like always- is to sacrifice yourself.”

Frustration curled up his spine and Dean grit his teeth. “You can’t- it’s not that fucking simple, and you know it.”

“Oh?” She stood back and clenched invisible pearls at her throat. The fight was brewing, hot and fast. “Please, Dean, tell me what I know.”

His lips hung open slightly as he thought better of speaking and making things worse.

“Allow me,” she snapped. “I know that you’re always right and I’m just some nerdy, useless book worm that you keep around to keep Sam occupied when you don’t wanna do any work.” Her voice grew loud, her words clipped and harsh. Her hands flailed in the air between them. “I know that you’re this old, experienced man and I’m some idiot little girl who doesn’t know shit about shit. I know I’m just a fucking bootycall that happens to occupy a room near yours.”

He flinched with every word. Slow, unrelenting tears streaked down his stubbled cheek. She didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to watch the salt water leak down and disappear into the dust and rock beneath their feet. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him; didn’t want to let go of her anger.

She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t see past the redness in his eyes, the way his lips turned downward.

Her heart broke again and again with each breath and every tear that fell.

“I know that… you’re going to fucking kill yourself because you think you’re weak.” Her volume fell, her voice cracked. “You think you’re going to fail and the world will end.”

Dean closed his eyes tight.

“You think that everything that goes bad in this world is your fault.”

He pulled in a shaky breath.

“You feed on guilt, Dean. You drown in it.”

Green eyes opened, found hers in the dim light.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

His confession was barely a whisper, floating towards her like a lost feather. He was sad but resolute, unyielding in his plans.

She took a step closer, bent her ear his way. “What?”

“Guilt,” he echoed. “I do have to live with it. Because it’s mine. I did this, and I’m the only one who can stop Michael from breaking free.”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? Why like this? Because some fucking reaper who has been Death for all of five minutes says you have to? Why would you trust her?”

Dean laughed bitterly and swatted at the wetness on his cheek. “Why would she lie?”

“Why wouldn’t she lie?”

He turned away but Y/N grabbed the open flap of his flannel.

“Hey! Don’t fucking do that. Don’t walk away. Not this time.”

Dean exhaled hard and came back to face her. He closed a hand around hers, keeping her fingers locked around his shirt, not letting her go.

“I have to do this. I have to. And if you can’t understand that, then-” He shrugged. “Then I don’t know what else to say.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded as she looked down at the ground. Night had fallen while they quarreled and the only light around them was the yellow glow coming from the house. Sam had shut the light in the barn when he left, giving them time alone to do what needed to be done.

When she looked back up, she was crying. Heavy, hot tears lined her eyes, and Dean sucked in a quick breath at the sight.

“I can’t let you do this,” she whispered.

“You’re not letting me do it,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I… I don’t care if you like it, or you agree with it. It has to happen. It will happen.”

Her lip trembled. She shook her head. “No…”

“Yes.” He went on, speaking slowly without a hint of indecision in his tone. “It will. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I should have been better to you. To Sam. I… I should have been better at everything. I should have been stronger. But this is what it is.”

Y/N grasped for any new idea, anything she could say to keep him with her. “What if we find something, what if Rowena… or Cas-”

“They’ve looked.”

She thrashed against him, trying to rip her hand away. “What if we find something and we can’t get you out! You’ll be trapped and we can’t get you out!” She pelted his chest with her fist, desperate to make him listen. “What if Chuck comes back and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What if he comes back and can fix it again like with Amara! He could do that!”

He grabbed her other hand, halting her attack.

“Stop it,” he breathed, trying not to hurt her. “Y/N, listen to me.”

“You’re the one not listening! Dean!”

She tugged her arms back, but he held her tight, dragged her closer.

“Why would you do this?” she sobbed, twisting in his grasp. Her wrists burned but she struggled all the same. “Why! You can’t! You can’t leave us!”

Lost and exhausted, Dean dropped her hands and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. He locked his arms around her back, crushed her into his warmth, refusing to budge or let her loose.

“Shh…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Shh… please…”

He rocked slowly side to side, soothing her as she splintered like a tree struck by lightning.

“Dean-”

“I know.” He kissed her again and loosened his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back and stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The whole world was shattering around her and all she could see was him.

Tiny hands moved up his chest, clawing at the buttons, bunching up the black tee beneath.

“Dean…”

He felt the touch like the strike of a match and bent to kiss her lips.

She breathed into him and then pulled the air right back. She wanted the oxygen they needed to be the same; wanted a moment of connection before he was gone forever.

Dean needed it too. He came alive as his hands roamed her body. He dug his fingertips into soft flesh, pawed at her breasts, licked deep into her mouth.

Y/N backed up as he advanced and leaned on the cold metal of the Impala. Dean caught up quickly and tore at the thin shirt that covered her. She tugged it away; tossed it into the dirt.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered as he lifted her up, her lips shoved against his ear. “You can’t…”

Dean moaned as she spread her legs and let him slide between. She kissed every inch of his face, every freckle that she could see. He melted into her; fire and ice, anguish and lust fighting inside of him.

She licked at his lips; he snuck his hand into her jeans.

She nibbled at his ear; he moaned and rocked against her.

She clung to him like letting go would kill her.

He memorized her body so he could carry the touch with him until the end of time.

“We should go inside,” he croaked, breaking away enough to look down into her beautiful eyes. Strands of hair fell into her eyes and he swept it away. “It’s getting cold.”

Y/N dropped her hand down his body, her eyes following suit. “Don’t want to,” she confessed, her voice deeper and tinged with goodbye. “Not yet.”

Dean sighed, his soul heavy, his mind a mess. He cupped her face, holding her between his big, warm hands. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He’d asked it a thousand times before in jest, but this time it felt different. This time it hurt.

Hooking two fingers behind his belt, she tugged him forward an inch. There was hardly any space between them, but she needed what was there to shrink away.

“You can give me tonight,” she said sadly. “You can give me one last night before you go.”

He kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek.

“OK.”

The backdoor creaked open like it always did; the springs in the back squeaked when he lay down.

Y/N stood in the open air, stripping slowly while he watched from inside. Head propped up against the window and long legs stretched out over the bench seat, he stared at her silhouette. Haloed by the soft glow from the house, she looked like an angel- soft and beautiful and so perfectly made for him that his heart ached.

He reached for her and she slipped inside, climbing onto the worn leather and closing the door behind her. She sat on his thighs with her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and her hands on his stomach.

“You can still change your mind, ya know.”

Dean lay his hands on her legs and caressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs with his thumbs. He was unblinking, unyielding; certain.

“I won’t.”

Y/N nodded gently before falling down to kiss him again. If this was it, then she wanted to remember every second. No more talking, no more tears. Nothing but hungry lips and searching hearts, Dean and the rising moon.

It was cold in the car but they kept warm. They slept in each other’s arms, just a simple roll over from falling off the seat. Dean held her close and Y/N counted each beat of his heart. She realized sadly that one day her own heart would stop and his would still be going, kept alive for eternity by the Archangel trapped inside. She would be dead and Dean would live on and on forever, locked in torment until the universe collapsed and reality disintegrated, and maybe not even then would he be allowed to rest. Michael could keep him as long as he wanted, perpetually frozen in time even as time wore on.

She’d be dust and he’d be flesh and blood.

She’d be a memory and he’d be in his self-made hell.

He was sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to move, but she had to go. There was a pain in her chest that expanded with each breath, a hole inside that grew with every second that she stared at him.

Carefully, she slid from his arms and out into the morning air. She gathered her clothes and grabbed the keys to her little Toyota.

She glanced back at the house, at the barn housing Dean’s final resting place. Sam would help him, she was sure. Mary would talk some sense into him. But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t watch him go, couldn’t bear to see tail lights fade into the horizon.

The sky was changing: black to indigo and on to pink.

Y/N backed down the gravel driveway and was gone before the first light.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SUMMER’S STELLAR GAZE

SUMMARY : part III of gimme half. on a mini-roadtrip to the bunker for something dean left behind, she decides to test dean’s word and his promises.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit (18+), fluff, Dean isn’t allergic to cats in this universe bc wtf, blowjob, hair pulling, dirty talk, road head, risky business 

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : silverstein song title. so yeah, I love Dean forever and ever actually, just like I wrote in my diary when I was ten. Omniscient POV to reader’s POV like a good ol’ movie. Xxxxxx

Dean sort of wanted to impress her. 

She was a hunter, like him, after all. 

If he showed her the Bunker, he hoped she'd be impressed; by him, by it, he really hoped so. There was a lot about the Bunker that impressed him when he’d gotten there. The dungeon, the showers, the lore, the garage, the kitchen, everything. That was his first thought when Sam asked Dean for some boxes of the kitchen items he’d left behind since they couldn’t bring everything with them. Dean saw the opportunity to show off. 

The past two weeks went by quickly. They were together now. Shared a New Years kiss at the behest of Eileen, Jack, and even tiny, baby Dean. 

Sam and Eileen were like kids with Barbie and Ken dolls, thrilled to make their favourite couple kiss at last. Cas and Jack were stunned at the discovery that two of them hated each other at first, but they were happy to see that Dean was happy.

It all just came together, somehow, after falling apart so messily. Her and Dean. Their lives.

It was natural for her to be around all of them. Dean forgot that it was him she had a problem with at first. It made it easy for Dean and hard for him all at once. They knew her better than he did and she knew them well, too.

They began bonding over hunting stories when he told Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack that she was also a hunter; she'd ask Cas and Jack a dozen questions whenever she could after finding out they were angels—the other, a nephilim. Sometimes, he’d catch a glimpse at Cas’ phone notifications and see what she asks him with a smile on his face. 

They’ve all been hanging out because of the holidays. She stayed with him during the weekends because he asked her to. He met her family, it was terrifying since they just started… dating… but her family was funny and kind to him. It eased his nerves, but they told him they’d heard of him from other hunters. He knew he was safe, hunters mostly liked him and his brother… except for the parts where they were at fault for all the bad stuff. 

Miracle was happier than ever to have his friend back, her Cat, Bubbles. Dean had a feeling Sam and Jack would take Miracle over to her place or maybe Miracle and Bubbles truly still remembered each other. 

Things are better, hotter now that they are together, more than when they were enemies. Dean was just beyond happy that he had her, that they talked about it… sort of. 

“You listen to the same music as my big brother,” she chuckled from beside him, the box of cassette tapes resting on her lap as she riffled through them. Dean smiled, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at her momentarily. 

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back to the road as they drove into the long, wintry, still-green forest that would lead them to the Bunker. 

“Yeah, I grew up on all of this music. My dad even loves Led Zeppelin,” she told him distractedly, staring at the clear plastic box labelled as Led Zeppelin. She shrugged and inserted the cassette tape into the deck of the car, Bonzo’s Montreux playing softly. 

“You get more and more awesome the more I get to know you,” he told her, biting his lip when he looked over at her. She pursed her lips as she smiled, entertained by his flirty, deep voice and his suggestive wink. 

“Awesome?” She smirked, putting the box back into its place. He turned to look at her once more, but he couldn’t look away from the softness and mischief in her eyes the whole time. 

“Perfect?” He offered, glancing away from her, taking in the big green trees he’s already familiar with. “Kissable? Hotter?” He suggested, smiling coquettishly. “Mmm, extra fuckable?” She looked at him through her lashes, her cheeks pink, and her breath unstable. 

Dean shifted in his seat and sat up straight, looking away from her arousing fuck-me gaze with his fingers tightening around the black steering wheel of his heavy car. Heat flooded the area between her legs at his reaction. Her clit pulsed in pace with her heartbeat and she bit her lip. A million ideas streamed through her mind. A million ideas to relieve the need she had to be fucked by Dean once more. 

The tension in the car was nearly as thick as the first night they had sex, it made her breathless, her heart pounded heavily with lust in her chest, and her pussy squeezed around nothing, instantly remembering the sex they had in his garage before they left.

She placed her hand on his thigh and he inhaled sharply, quickly turning to look at her with a deep blush on his face. Dean relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and held it with only one hand, to put one of his hands over hers. She bit her lip and watched the side of his gorgeous face as he guided her hand higher. 

She smiled brightly and lifted her hand beneath his to smack his hand away. He chuckled, taking a quick glance over at her playfulness. 

“You said you’d fuck me anywhere, at any time,” she leaned over slightly, placing her arms on top of the seat, and resting her chin on her crossed arms. He glanced at her, exhaling shakily as she held his gaze through her lashes. “You promised me a lot of things, actually,” she moved her hand away, tracing his jaw with her fingers. His eyes fluttered shut. “Dean…” she murmured, moving her fingers up to his lips, and he opened his eyes before he could swerve too far from the road. “I recall a few things you seemed to really like.” 

She leaned forward suddenly, licking his earlobe mischievously. Dean moaned softly, his eyelids heavy with lust, and his eyes clouded over with arousal. 

“Like making me choke on your cock,” she whispered into his ear, dragging her lips down his neck. He groaned softly and shuddered, squirming as he attempted to focus on driving. “I want you in my mouth, Dean,” she purred, sliding her hand down his chest and stomach slowly, “right here, right now.”

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, lifting his hips up into her hand when she cupped his cock over his jeans. She sucked gently at his pulse, making the faded mark on his neck return. “Yes,” he whispered, biting his lip hard. 

“I love when you get hard for me, baby,” she murmured, squeezing his cock. 

“I need you,” he rasped, “I want to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me.” She laughed softly, unbuckling herself from the seat and then him. He chewed on his lip and focusing on driving as he got closer to the Bunker while she unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips after she unzipped his jeans, allowing her to lower them slightly until his cock was free. 

“You’re aware of how blessed you are, right?” She teased, biting her lip, sliding her fingers up his cock. Dean gasped and then he laughed breathlessly, his dick twitching at her delicate touch. 

“I’m aware of how much you like my dick?” He smiled down at her shyly. She licked her lips, and rolled her eyes at his modesty. She kissed the tip, then gently placed her hand around the base to kiss her way down.

“Have you heard the sounds I make when you fuck me?” She whispered against the velvety skin of his cock. He grunted softly when she flattened her tongue and licked her way back up. “I don’t make those often, by the way,” she said casually, swirling her tongue around the tip. 

“Here I thought you were a good girl,” he breathed out, lowering one hand into her hair, to try and push her down on his cock. She squeezed his cock, jerking her hand up and down quickly, then sucked on the tip hard, causing him to choke on a moan. She pulled away with a loud suckling sound that made him curse under his breath.

“I went over to your place without underwear, and then I asked you to talk dirty as I sucked your dick, and then I begged you to cum inside me. What part of all that made you think I was a good girl?” She lapped the precum that beaded from his tip, her mouth watering at the taste of him. 

“The morning after,” he answered softly, his emerald eyes flickering to hers. She stopped licking his cock momentarily to consider his words, the tenderness in his voice causing her stomach to flutter. It was things like this, his words, his actions… things like that about Dean that aroused her even more. 

She moaned appreciatively, lowering her mouth over his dick, then pulled up almost all the way off, repeating the motion, and then began sucking, and licking. He moaned her name softly, struggling to focus on driving such a heavy car, but she noticed the slower speed. 

She took him deeper into her mouth, gagging slightly when he touched the back of her throat. Dean moaned out a curse, tightening his grip on her hair, pushing her up and down his cock faster. She moaned softly around him, letting him guide her as she sucked her way up his cock, her tongue moving along the underside of his length. Occasionally, her throat constricted around his length as she swallowed. 

His hitched breath made her wetter, throaty groans, and desperate grunts made her clit pulse uncomfortably in her warm dress pants. She reached down to press her fingers against her clit and took him all the way down her throat. His hips bucked upwards and the leather around the wheel squeaked under his tight grip, but he never pulled too roughly on her hair. 

“Holy fuck,” Dean grunted as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock when she got to the leaking tip and sucked the taste of his precum. Then, she began to twist her hand around him, following the path of her mouth up and down, until she heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath the wheels of the car, and the Impala coming to a complete stop. 

Dean relaxed completely as he set the car in park, leaning his head backwards. The sounds of his pleasure and the wet sound of her mouth and throat getting fucked competed for volume. Dean lifted his shirt and gazed down at her, thrusting his hips up faster into her mouth.

She blinked away tears to stare into his eyes, her cheeks and ears burning hot, her jaw and lips sore from taking him. She moaned softly again, letting him push his cock up into her throat, catching the blurred ecstasy on his face. His red lips trapped between white teeth, his freckled cheeks rosy, and his brows furrowed. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he panted, lovingly moving her hair from her pink and wet face. She hummed around him in approval and closed her eyes, focusing on bringing him closer to his climax. Dean’s thrusts began to stutter and he started to get more vocal, arousing her further. “God, I love your mouth,” he whispered, thrusting upwards hard as he came in thick, hot spurts down her throat. “Fuck, yeah,” he moaned, shuddering at the feeling of her swallowing around him. 

Dean pulled her off him despite not finishing, his cum dripping down his cock despite her best efforts to collect everything. That seemed to be the purpose. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with his tongue poking between his teeth, looking both cute and sexy. 

“What?” She asked, and kept tugging at his cock as his cum dribbled down from the slit, and over her hand. She tightened her hold around the heat of him in her wet hand. She bit her wet, swollen lip, and sat up, slowly stopping the strokes of her hand to watch him. 

Dean leaned forward to kiss her all of the sudden, her heart lurching in her chest, the way it always did when he kissed her. He held her jaw, licking her spit and his cum from her lip. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her face closer, meeting her warm tongue with his. She let go of his dick, and smiled against his mouth, before pulling away.

Dean chased her lips, but she pushed his chest roughly so he stayed pressed against the seat, laughing quietly. He smiled leaning forward anyway, his nose brushing against hers, lips agonisingly remaining a few millimetres away from hers. 

“Can we have sex in your old bed?” She whispered, tugging gently at his jacket, her lips brushing against his. He panted against her mouth, whining softly in attempts to make her kiss him. 

“Yes, whatever you want,” he responded quietly. 

She hummed when she kissed Dean once more; a passionate, long, and deep kiss with tongue and teeth that made her needier. She helped readjust him as they made out, a hot and breathy exchange before heading back on the road to the Bunker.

➥ closer than this

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[mysadcorner]

Jason Dean x SASurvivor!Reader Headcanons

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a Jason dean x reader fic? Could it be about telling jd about a time when reader was sa’ed? And he tells her it wasn’t her fault? And then the next day maybe he’s sneaking into her room and there’s a bit of blood on his collar? And he’s like “you don’t have to worry abt him anymore”

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

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• JD would be absolutely furious when he first finds out what happened to you, and his anger will be pretty much uncontrollable no matter how calm he seems to be in the moment. He's definitely planning something straight away even though he won't tell you.

• He would sit with you for quite some time to help you through your emotions and to make sure you feel comforted and ready to rest. During this time of your shared silence or deep talking he'd spend his time with his mind racing, thinking how someone could do such a thing and what kind of punishment he needs to inflict upon them while he holds you.

• He’d plan on staying with you that night and wouldn’t leave you at all until he knew you were feeling at least slightly busy. He wouldn’t leave your side until he knew you had something to do, or were going to be with someone he approved of and would look after you.

• You would eventually notice that he had disappeared for the whole day shortly after you told him of what had happened, and when he came back he would be very proud of himself. He may even cause a scene so whoever hurt you would be forever humiliated in both life and death.

• Afterwards, JD would be acting like nothing happened on his behalf and putting on an innocent facade in front of others. However, this won’t stop him from dropping little hints at his involvement and making jokes about it.

• He’d let you know straight away what he did though, especially as he thought it was justified and would make you feel better (wether he was right about this he doesn’t really care). You’d never have to worry about that person ever hurting you again because of JD, and he really wanted you to know that. Also, you would probably end up have to cover for him if either of you were questioned about the incident.

[ryngzmn]

S/O HEADCANNONS

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: dean, sam, and cas.

A/N: I got lazy writing these🤫 also I would’ve added more characters but I’m not that far into the show☹️ (I’m only on late s6 but I have a lot of spoilers LMAOOOO)

—————————————————————————

DEAN:

CIVILIAN VERSION:

- if you were a civilian, I feel like dean would try to keep his hunting life a secret from you for as long as possible.

- he doesn’t want another cassie situation to come up because he loves you so much.

- personally, I don’t feel like dean would’ve told you on his own terms, I feel like you somehow found out on your own.

- whether that be you found out he lied about whatever job he said he worked as — a job that obviously made people move around a lot, so you didn’t get suspicious — or you just found some fake IDS or some weapons you found while snooping in the Impala.

- you decided to stay, to take the risk of possibly being hunted down by the supernatural to be with dean. and to you, it was the best decision you had made in your life.

- he treats you so well for a guy who slept around a lot before he met you.

- he always tries to call you every night while he’s out of state hunting.

- I feel like he’d get you a promise ring, something to make up for the no-go decision of marriage.

- whenever he comes home from a hunt, he’s forever by your side, cuddling on the bed or the couch of your apartment. he never leaves your side, and will even stay interlocked with you if you decide to go to the kitchen, he’ll only let you go if you need to go the bathroom. (you need your privacy ofc)

HUNTER VERSION:

- dean was definitely a little hesitant to start a relationship with you, you were both hunters. that never ended well, he saw first hand from tamara and isaac.

- but, he eventually decided to just take the risk. you were one of the only people — beside sam and cas — who understood the life that you guys lived. the risks that came with it.

- dean never would’ve thought about having a domestic life, he knew that wouldn’t have worked out. he had enough experience trying to make it work with lisa and ben.

- but you, you give him a small spark of hope that there is a chance he can eventually run away from hunting and life in peace with you.

- he’d also get you a promise ring, an identical ring to the silver one he used to wear on the ring finger of his right hand.

- he’d secretly buy you cassette tapes of the type of music you like and start playing it for you when you two are alone in Baby. the smile on your face is worth every penny he spent. (if you have similar or the same music taste to dean, much like I do, he’d make a mix-tape of songs he has that remind him of you.)

- dean being with a hunter s/o would mean he isn’t that heavy on PDA, he believes that it could put a bigger target in your back than there already is.

SAM:

CIVILIAN VERSION:

- much like dean, he wouldn’t have told you at first. he didn’t want you to end up like jessica, and be strived of a full life you deserved to live.

- although, unlike dean, I feel like he’d tell you himself instead of you finding out on your own terms and possibly being pissed at him.

- sam has a habit of going to stores full of little trinkets, reason being he’d bring them to you. you have a whole collection at this point, and you don’t plan on getting rid of it.

- whenever he comes to visit, he likes to spoil you with whatever money he has from hustling pool with dean.

- around the time sam and dean get the bunker, he’d invite you to live full-time, that way he can be closer to you and not drive extra miles after a hunt just to see you. (forgot to add it, but I feel like dean would do the same thing.)

- he claimed that you could help them do research on cases since sam doesn’t want you getting into the hunter lifestyle.

HUNTER VERSION:

- I believe that sam would be more open to a relationship than dean would be, sam knows you can protect yourself. you’re a hunter.

- while on hunts, sam always makes sure to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe.

- sam would 100% let you chat his ear off, even if it’s about a topic he isn’t interested in.

- if you had long enough hair, sam would definitely love to play with your hair. whether that was braiding it or just running his hands through it. (totally not based off one of blondie’s headcannons haha..)

- in his free time, he likes to lay your head in his lap and read to you, it’s a moment of domesticity that he loves.

CASTIEL:

CIVILIAN VERSION:

- you two first met after he lost his grace and Dean kicked him out of the bunker.

- he wasn’t all used to being a human, and you didn’t think he was weird for it. in fact, you helped him adjust to life without grace.

- when cas got his grace back, he was worried for you. you didn’t know he was an angel and he’d eventually have to return to the Winchester brothers.

- eventually, he decided to tell you before he left. you looked a him like he was crazy, it wasn’t until he showed you his wings in the form of a shadow behind him.

- he didn’t want you to stay at the bunker, he thought there was still a chance that a supernatural being could break in and possibly hurt you.

- and that belief grew after dean became a demon and tried to kill sam in the bunker.

- much like sam, castiel would also get you little trinkets he obtained from going on hunts with sam and dean.

- I also feel like he’d bring jack over to your apartment every now and then since he’s like a son to him!

HUNTER VERSION:

- at first, you were a little wary of castiel. but when you saw how much dean and sam trusted him, you decided to let yourself like him a little more.

- cas always gave you space, he never tried to force you to like him. he always let you get used to his presence at your own pace.

- it wasn’t until cas lost his grace and was forced out of the bunker did you realize how much you actually liked having him around.

- so when he eventually returned, you started treating him more like a friend and less than a stranger you were forced to interact with.

- eventually, that friendship bloomed into a relationship between an angel and a supernatural hunter.

- if you were ever injured on a hunt, you’d be the first one he’d heal. sometimes, you’d have to force him to heal someone else because they had worse wounds than you did.

- I feel like cas would love to hold your hand, just interlocking your fingers gives him a sense of peace.

—————————————————————————

tags! : @ryvkkr @marunene

[cheynovak]

One more night   

Dean Winchester x F/Reader Y/N            

Warnings: hurt, angst,  break up,

Words:  1440 

*Does not follow the supernatural storyline * 

-- --      

Dean and Y/N have been dating for a while, and even though she is the girl Dean could see himself getting old with, he knows the world is ending and only he and his brother can stop it.  

He just can’t let hunting go, not now anyway. But neither can he put the stress and danger in her hands, he believes she deserves a perfect fairytale life. So, he does what he does best, putting his own feelings aside and letting Y/N go.  

-- 

Y/N lay in bed, watching the first light of dawn filter through the thin motel curtains. Her gaze was fixed on Dean, his strong features softened in sleep. The lines of worry and pain that usually etched his face were smoothed out, making him look almost boyish.  

She reached out a hand, hovering just above his cheek, wanting to touch him but afraid to wake him from what looked like the first peaceful rest he’d had in weeks. She felt her chest tighten with a pang of sorrow.  

Last night, they had talked long into the night, voices hushed in the darkness. The weight of their conversation hung heavy in the air. They had both agreed it was time to go their separate ways. The endless cycle of hunting and the looming threat of the world ending had taken its toll on their relationship.  

They were both exhausted, worn down by the constant battles and the ever-present danger. But Dean had asked her to stay one more night. Just one more night, he had said, his green eyes pleading with her. She couldn’t refuse him. Not when she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, a rare glimpse into the man beneath the hunter.  

So, she had stayed, and now here they were, the morning creeping in, signalling the end of their time together. She studied his face, committing every detail to memory. The freckles that dotted his nose, the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, the slight curve of his lips.  

It hurt to look at him, knowing that this was it, that after today, they would be just memories to each other. Friends, they had said, but how could they be friends after everything they had shared?  

Dean stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked a few times before his eyes focused on her. A soft smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.  

He reached out, his hand finding hers and entwining their fingers. They lay there in silence, the weight of their impending separation pressing down on them. She wanted to say something, anything to break the silence, but the words caught in her throat.  

“Y/N,” Dean began, his voice breaking the quiet. “I wish things were different. I wish I could...” She squeezed his hand, shaking her head. “Don’t, Dean. We’ve already said everything. Let’s not make it harder.”  

He nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He shifted closer, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent, a mix of vanilla, whiskey, and something uniquely Dean.  

They held each other, neither wanting to let go. But the sun was rising, and with it came the reality that they couldn’t stay in this moment forever. Eventually, they would have to get up, face the day, and the world that awaited them outside this room. “I love you,” Dean whispered into her hair, his voice cracking. 

“I love you too,” she replied, her heart breaking with each word. They lay there for a while longer, savouring their last moments together. When they finally pulled apart, it was with a sense of finality.  

Dean got up first, his movements slow and deliberate. He dressed quickly, not looking at her, knowing that if he did, he might not be able to leave. Y/N watched him, her heart aching. She knew this was the right decision, that they couldn’t continue like this. But it didn’t make it any easier.  

Dean turned to her, his eyes meeting hers. “Take care of yourself, okay?” 

“You too,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over. He gave her one last, lingering look before turning and walking out the door. As it closed behind him, she felt a part of her heart go with him.  

She lay back down, staring at the ceiling, letting the tears fall. The room felt empty without him, but she knew that she had to be strong. For herself, and for him. The sun was fully up now, a new day beginning. She took a deep breath, wiping her tears away. It was time to move forward, even if it meant doing so without the man she loved.  

--  

Dean stepped out of the motel room, the door clicking shut behind him. The early morning air was cool against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, each one tearing at him from the inside.  

He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The Impala stood parked a few steps away, its black paint glistening in the soft dawn light. It had always been his sanctuary, the one constant in his life.  

But now, even the sight of his beloved car couldn’t soothe the ache in his chest. He paused, his hand resting on the cool metal of the car's roof, struggling to steady his breathing. He couldn't shake the image of Y/N’s face, her eyes filled with a mix of love and sorrow, the same emotions that were mirrored in his own heart.  

He felt a tear escape, trailing down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. Dean Winchester didn’t cry. He couldn’t afford to. Not when there were still monsters to hunt and people to save. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his composure. He knew this was for the best. Their lives were too dangerous, too unpredictable.  

He had seen what the life of a hunter could do to relationships, how it tore people apart. He didn’t want that for Y/N. She deserved better. She deserved a chance at a normal life, something he could never give her. 

But knowing it was the right decision didn’t make it hurt any less. He had asked her to stay one more night, selfishly clinging to their last moments together, unable to let go. And now, standing here alone, he wondered if he would ever be able to let go.  

Dean opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, trying to block out the memories of her touch, her scent, her smile. He reached for the keys, his fingers trembling slightly, and turned the ignition.  

The familiar rumble of the engine was usually a comfort, but today it felt hollow. He sat there for a moment, the engine running, his mind replaying their last conversation. He could still hear her voice, the way she had said she loved him, the pain in her words echoing his own.  

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat, letting out a shaky breath. Finally, he put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. The road stretched out before him, an empty expanse that seemed to reflect the emptiness he felt inside. As he drove, the tears he had been fighting finally won.  

They slipped down his cheeks silently, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. Dean didn’t know what the future held. The life of a hunter was uncertain, filled with danger and darkness. But he did know one thing, he would always carry a piece of Y/N with him, no matter where the road took him.  

She had been his light in the darkness, and now, even though they were apart, that light would continue to guide him. He wiped his eyes, focusing on the road ahead. There were still battles to fight, still people to save.  

He would keep going, because that’s what he did. But he knew that a part of him would always long for what they had, for the love they had shared, and for the life they might have had together. And as the miles stretched out before him, Dean made a silent promise:  

One day when he found peace, he will win her back. 

--

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[moraldust]

—get off me. you’re heavy. get off me. it’s too hot. get off me. i don’t wanna touch your sweaty body.

—what?

dean didn’t understand what sam was mumbling about but squeezed him tighter. as tightly as he could at the moment.

—that’s what you’d usually say. so it’s really it. the end.

dean didn’t answer. it was physically impossible to say something as cruel as today’s truth.

God please let me die after him. just a few moments later. don’t let him die alone here. he’s scared. he needs his big brother. do you hear me, God?

—i’m listening to your heartbeat.

—yeah? and what do you hear?

—it’s slow. it’s so slow, dean.

—i like it slow. i thought you knew.

—jerk.

sam wanted to slap him but there was no energy left in his body. his hands felt so heavy lying on the filthy ground on the both sides of dean’s body.

—bitch.

he smirked. never before had it felt so nice.

—let’s talk. i hate this silence.

dean felt tired. mouth didn’t want to work forming long ass sentences. he would lie here under his brother who covered him like a duvet on a summer night and get some rest.

—nah. i‘m too sleepy. we can talk tomorrow.

that’s absurd. such a ridiculous thought but sam responded.

—okay. tomorrow. of course tomorrow.

he had so much to say. he needed to tell dean something important, something he always wanted to tell but every time it was not the right moment. i guess this moment was also not right.

so he decided to stay like this with his mouth closed and eyes closed, ear pressed against brother’s chest trying to catch a soft beat. almost nothingness, single raindrop after the heavy rain falling down from the old roof, annoys you, making you want to stop this madness.

maybe sam also needed some rest and maybe he’d also fall asleep just like his older brother. only… he must hear one more heartbeat. just one more. he’ll wait a few more minutes. he can. it’s okay to be late.

how long did he wait? sam didn’t know. but it felt like forever.

—dean.

nothing.

—you’re asleep, dean?

nothing.

—of course you’re asleep.

sam made a tremendous effort to hug him, to wrap him tighter and closer. hands didn’t move an inch. but he could feel it, dry fabric of brother’s shirt under his fingers. so warm and familiar.

—i’m scared, dean.

[casdeans-pie]

Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.

Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao

This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!

Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.

There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.

The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.

Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.

Dean had to do something on his own.

He had to.

He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.

------

Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.

Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.

“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.

Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.

Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”

“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.

Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.

There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.

Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.

“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.

The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.

After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.

He never got any further.

Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.

Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.

“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.

“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”

Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.

Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”

Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.

The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.

Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.

Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”

Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”

“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”

“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”

Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”

Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.

By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.

They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.

The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)

As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)

Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.

After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.

Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.

Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”

Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”

Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.

“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”

“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”

“Yes.”

“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”

“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.

Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”

“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”

Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”

Oh.

Dean blinked in surprise.

Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”

“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”

Cas squinted.

“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”

That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.

Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.

“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”

“I don’t need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”

Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”

“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”

Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”

They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”

Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.

Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.

Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”

---- Read the rest on AO3 ----

[princessmisery666]

Part-time Soulmate

Summary: The lure is stronger than the certainty of heartbreak.

Warnings/Genres etc.: Angst.  

W/C:500

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female.

Prompt: @justagirlinafandomworld 's Unclaimed Love Songs - Cowboys & Angels by Dustin Lynch 

A/N: Lots of other songs helped the muses with this one but mainly Hold Me Like a Grudge by Fall Out Boy.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Master Lists: Main // Dean Winchester

The world was spinning faster and faster, and Dean couldn’t keep up. He painted on an ear-to-ear smile and tried not to blink. He felt nothing and everything. He didn’t want to think, not tonight. Instead, he drove, pedal to the metal, reveling in Baby’s growling engine and waiting for the night to turn off his mind. Passing cars and crowded bars, but not stopping until he pulled up at her door.

Dean had vices, hard liquor, easy women, and a loud throaty engine. But he’d never been an addict. Not until he met her. She made going back to her as easy as breathing. But that was the thing, he needed to breathe, and she was his own brand of oxygen. He’d had a taste, let her in, and she’d consumed him. He struggled to find the high with anyone else. Like the nicotine in a cigarette, she ran through his veins, and he wanted to overdose.

It was late. Too late to be showing up without calling first, but she answered his knock with sleepy eyes and messy hair. She didn’t say his name or ask if he were okay, only widened the door, inviting him in.

He crossed the threshold, slipping his arms around her waist, burying his head in her neck, drowning in her warmth. Her hand stroked the back of his head, nails gently scraping through the coarse hairs at the base of his neck. Each sweep a silent vow; ‘I’m here. It’s okay. I’ll help you breathe. I’ll make you believe it’s all a dream.’

Tender kisses placed on his throat from sweet lips dissolved the ache of sore, stiff muscles from the long, breakless drive like sugar in water.

He felt like he’d been on the run his whole life, never wanting commitment, but she caught him by surprise, and before he knew it, he’d lost himself to her. Assuming he’d be alone forever, but damn if she hadn’t made him think he was wrong. It was that kind of adrenaline he couldn’t leave behind.

Her touch always said more than words ever could. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, under his jacket, and pushed it down his arms. ‘Stay a while.’  

Pulling back to look into her eyes, he answered with a pleading request, “Turn down the noise.” But what he meant was ‘make me forget’. 

“I got you, baby,” she promised. 

It was more than her body that turned him on, and to be in her arms was enough. But like any high, it was more than wanting her for a night. He wanted her forever. She was a light, and he wanted to be her shadow.

Unfortunately, he knew better. She was sweet, he was wild, and together they were dangerous, so for that reason, he wouldn’t let the secret out - wouldn’t surrender his heart. Tonight he’d exist in the luminous serenity she enveloped him in and pretend he could live there.

Pretend she wasn’t a part-time soulmate and a full-time problem.

Part 2 - Love-Blind Haze

Tag Info - or follow my library blog and turn on notifications. @princessmisery666-library for my fics only.

Super Supernatural: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole

Driving Baby, Whiskey & Leather: @deandreamernp / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @lyarr24

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine.

Word Count: 2922

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. May have future SMUT 18+!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff. Mention/Insinuation of Sex.

A/N: I am currently working on further chapters. Everything is coming to a head.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 32 - A Taste of Normal

Days passed, and she still hadn’t shared what the book said with any of them other than Dean. Things around the bunker were serene. One of Maria’s favorite things was seeing Bobby and Mari hanging out, reacquainting themselves, and catching up on their lives.

She could have sworn she saw a glimmer in both their eyes when they looked at each other, but she didn’t want to read more into it and make any assumptions.

That fifth morning, as they all sat around the library tables having coffee, Maria finally spoke up, “So, I have a couple more things I need to do but…” she paused, biting her bottom lip nervously for a moment, “I can only take Mari and Cas with me, and only on one of my tasks.”

She wasn’t looking up at them, but she could feel them. The worry and concern that washed over her from all but the angels was a little overwhelming, causing her to take a slow, shaky breath. 

“I don’t like the sound of that, kid,” Bobby told her.

“I know Uncle Bobby. It’s just, physically, none of you can go,” she tried to explain, taking several slow, deep breaths, but they were shaky. Maria had been working on not letting the emotions of others take her over, at least. It had been difficult just to let them flow around her as she couldn’t put up a wall. That would have been like shutting her family out again, and she didn’t want that, not again.

“What do you mean?” Jess asked, tilting her head slightly, puzzled.

“Well, I have to go to Heaven and Hell,” Maria answered her, daring to glance up at all of them, “Physically, your bodies can’t go to Heaven, and it’s too dangerous to take any of you to Hell. But more than that, the book said I couldn’t take you with me.” 

Dean had spent the last several days attempting to come to terms with the entire thing. Seeing her now, he sighed, then gently squeezed her hand. He looked at everyone around the tables and even managed a small smile, “We knew she’d have to do some of this on her own. So, I suggest that we listen and we stay here. We can support her, make this easier. And I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but we also shouldn’t worry or think that the worst will happen.”

The others looked at him, a bit surprised at his response. It wasn’t something they thought he would say. He probably worried more than the rest of them, but he’d had four days to come to terms with all of it, which they didn’t know. Bobby ran his hand down his beard. The one thing he was hoping for was for Dean not to agree with her.

“Then we’ll do just that. We’ll support you from here,” Mary told her, giving her that soft mom smile.

“I’m proud of you, Little One,” Mari told her, feeling the slight sting of tears in her eyes. 

Maria felt herself relax again. She could tell that her family was still apprehensive about what she had to do, but she could also tell that they would support her, “Mari, Cas, I need you to go to Heaven with me,” she told them more confidently than she felt as she looked over at them.

Cas was slightly puzzled, “Why wouldn’t you want us to go with you to Hell?” 

She chuckled a little, ducking her head slightly before looking back at him, “It’s more of a feeling than something I can put into words. I know what I’m asking of both of you.”

“The night your glow returned, I made my choice to stand with you. Nothing has changed since then. I will go with you when you’re ready,” Cas replied. He, too, had a smile, which Maria found endearing.

“Thanks, Cas,” she told him, relaxing again.

“When do you think you’ll be going, and which place will you visit first?” Mari asked her. She’d seen outcomes, in bits and pieces, of a few different ways things could go. She just didn’t know which ones would play out.

Maria took another deep breath, “I’m not quite sure yet. Every time I think of one being first, I get pulled toward the other one to be first. It’s been… frustrating,” she replied, then took a sip of her coffee.

“Don’t force it, feel it. When it’s time, you’ll know,” Mari tried to reassure her.

“Thanks,” she chuckled.

“On a brighter note, since Thanksgiving, when that shockwave came off you, the crime rate has dropped in almost the entire midwest,” Sam told her.

She looked over at him, furrowing her brow as she took in his words, “Trippy,” was all she could say. She’d been so focused on what she had to do that she hadn’t thought about much else.

“There also hasn’t been any monster attacks either,” Mary added.

“When did you guys find that out?” Maria asked them.

“Yesterday. I was looking up some of the cases, from those books when I noticed it online,” Bobby answered her, “Lots of different papers have articles out on the drop in crimes.”

It was more than that, though, and Bobby began explaining that some people were also moving away from places and to them. Peace, Maria thought to herself, it wasn’t for everyone. Then there was what Mari had told her, that things would happen quickly now.

“It’s happening,” Mari said happily.

“What’s happening?” Jess asked her, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Maria’s peace, it’s spreading,” Mari replied.

All eyes were on Mari at this point. Maria had figured out enough to know what was going on, but she didn’t have the whole story. That was when Mari shared it with them, the things she’d shared with Cas almost a week ago now. They weren’t sure what to say, as it was a lot to take in. Maria felt all their emotions wash over her in waves, causing her to wobble slightly in her chair. Dean leaned close to her so that she could lean against his chest.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he told her as he tried to soothe her with his presence.

She felt slightly dizzy. It was a lot to feel all at once. Maria took those slow, deep breaths, focusing on letting their emotions pass over her and not consume her. At that moment, Dean realized he didn’t need to protect her; he just needed to be her rock. That was a different thing for him entirely. He was used to being the strong one, taking the lead, and taking care of his family, but it was all around hunting. What Maria needed was the same thing, but on an emotional level, a comfort level. The thought made him smile as he held her close while she centered herself.

“You okay, kid?” Bobby asked her as he sat forward in his chair, concerned.

“Yeah, Uncle Bobby, I’ll be okay. I’m still getting used to feeling everyone’s emotions,” she chuckled, “I can’t turn that one off. It has to do with not closing myself off from those closest to me.”

“Yes,” Mari began, ”It will only be uncomfortable till you get the hang of maneuvering through that one. You’ll figure it out. Just remember, they aren’t your emotions; don’t let them consume you.”

Maria nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She also allowed the comfort from Dean to help her find her center again. This particular power was going to take some getting used to. It also made her realize another reason why she couldn’t take any of them with her on her tasks. She had to be able to focus and couldn’t do that when she felt their more challenging emotions, their concern and worry. She closed her eyes as Dean put his arms around her. Something so simple brought her so much comfort.

Briefly, her mind went back to when she met the brothers, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as the scene from her Uncle’s scrapyard played through her mind. It felt like a lifetime ago now. That was when it hit her. She had to go through hell before she saw the light at the end of it all and chuckled at it.

“What’s so funny, Sis?” Sam asked, slightly puzzled.

“I figured out where I have to go first,” she replied, finding amusement in the irony of it.

“Care to share with the rest of us?” Bobby asked.

She looked over at him, “I have to go to Hell first.”

“When?” Bobby sighed.

“Honestly, I’m not sure yet. I’ll know, though, when it’s time,” she told him, wondering when that would be.

“Well, until then, we’ll take care of things the way we always do, together,” John told her, as he too was proud of the woman she’d grown into. He still saw her as part of the family, even with what she was, the woman his son loved.

Dean did really well at not worrying, especially holding her close like he was, “Then I think we take a day, just relax, do something fun.”

None of them had gotten out of the bunker since Thanksgiving, and Jess had been stuck in there since getting her tattoo. Maria felt some of them tense up at the suggestion and understood why. Azazel had made that threat before they’d taken him out, that if Jess stepped outside, she’d go up in flames. There was also the fact that Mary was supposed to be in heaven, not alive on Earth. Plus, Mari was in hiding due to bringing Maria into existence. Then there was the God/Chuck issue, which she wasn’t sure yet how to deal with. She debated how to ease their worry. 

“I think if we stay together, things will be okay,” Maria offered.

It was the beginning of December, and most of the East Coast and parts of the Midwest had snow on the ground at varying levels. Being in the bunker, it was sometimes difficult to remember what time of year it was or the weather outside as the place stayed a reasonably even temperature all the time.

“So, what do you guys want to do? It’s December,” Jess asked, debating things for herself in her thoughts.

There was silence as they thought about her question, and Maria watched them as she leaned against Dean, “Think about it as if you could go anywhere in the world,” she finally told them, chuckling a little.

That definitely opened some options for them, although they also didn’t want to be around many people either. Plus, they didn’t want to run into anything that would bring trouble. There were many places they could go, things they’d enjoy, but somehow, they all had the same thought.

“How about just a walk through the forest outside?” Mary suggested.

After they thought it over, they all agreed. Everyone except the angels dressed in warm clothes, as well as their coats. Dean opened the bunker door, squinting at the sunlight outside for a moment as he stepped out and into the fresh afternoon air, followed by the others. There was no danger out there that confronted them, just the serenity of the forest around them. 

There was a slight chill in the air and about three inches of snow on the ground. Once they were all outside, Jess crouched down and made a snowball, then threw it at Sam. At first, there was mild shock at the action, then there was laughter, and a snowball fight erupted. No one was spared from the flying snowballs, not even the angels, who got in on the fun. 

Maria used her powers and flung snowballs at everyone, making sure to get Dean a good one. When the snowball hit him in the face, he had an unamused look as he wiped the snow from his face and out of his scruff, watching her laugh like a happy child. He couldn’t help the smile the sight of her brought to him. While he was busy being lost in the moment and his thoughts, another snowball hit in the back of the head, that one from his brother.

For once, they were having one of those normal family moments. They weren’t thinking about monsters, hunting, or even the tasks that Maria had ahead of her. Jess and Maria even built a snowman, Maria using her powers to make the items to decorate it in. Some of them even made snow angels, which Cas didn’t understand. Mari found Cas somewhat adorable, like a child wanting desperately to understand the why of things. 

Afterward, they all went inside, having hot chocolate, some with marshmallows and some without. Maria hadn’t even had to concentrate, and it just happened: the cups appearing in front of each of them, just how they liked it. The word “normal” kept running through Maria’s mind. This was the most normal she’d felt in a long time, if ever. They had dinner and opted for a board game afterward, Mousetrap.

Dean attempted to set the game up, and Maria did her best to keep her giggles to a minimum when he would get frustrated that something wouldn’t snap together correctly. He didn’t get mad or throw anything; he just took a deep breath and would try again. Since the game was only four players, they made teams; Jess and Sam, Dean and Maria, John, Mary, and Bobby, and Mari and Cas.

Cas didn’t understand the point of the game, but his curiosity won out in the end, and he agreed to play with them. There was more laughter and family jabs that brought even more laughter than the game itself. However, Cas wasn’t happy when his mouse got caught, which made the entire room light up with laughter.

That night, as Dean and Maria were cuddling together, she still felt that sense of normalcy from earlier in the day. For a bit, the two just stayed in silence, relishing the moment with each other, the closeness, the comfort, and the contentment their love brought them.

“Maybe normal isn’t so bad,” Dean told her softly.

Maria tilted her head so that she could look at him instead of being nuzzled against his chest, “I had a lot of fun today, too.”

Dean touched her cheek, gently caressing it, wondering again how he’d gotten so lucky to have her in his life like this. Then he chuckled slightly when he knew it was because of Jess and something that had happened between the two girls.

She tilted her head a bit, “What’s so funny?” He chuckled again before he slid a few strands of her hair behind her ear, “Just wondering how I got so lucky to have you in my life. Then I remembered what you said about Jess. It made me chuckle,” he paused for a moment, taking in the softness in her expression, almost getting lost in her eyes again, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she sighed happily before she felt his lips on hers.

She was used to feeling his emotions. However, he wasn’t used to feeling hers. At that moment, when he kissed her, he felt her, and he had to pull away a bit, surprised and slightly overwhelmed by it. He didn’t even know what to say to her.

Maria tilted her head slightly, confused, “You okay?”

It took him a moment to snap out of his thoughts, “I uh, I felt what you did, or do, or…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.

“Wait? What?” she asked, still attempting to understand him.

He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at her better than the way he was, “When I kissed you, I think I felt your emotions,” he managed to tell her, and even that sounded odd.

It took her a minute to fully process what he had said before she could respond, “Well, that might have been my fault. I was thinking that I wanted you to know how I felt. It’s like, I love you just wasn’t enough to say it,” she confessed, a bit shyly.

Dean felt a smile spread as he listened to her, “Can we try that again, only during sex?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She couldn’t help the giggling that erupted, “You’re adorable, and I don’t see why not, just not tonight.”

He pouted, attempting to look serious in his pout, but his smile won that little fight with his lips, making her giggle again. Dean brushed his fingers along her forehead, moving a bit of her hair as his eyes washed over her expression. She was right; I love you didn’t really say how they felt toward each other.

He leaned down and kissed her again, “Let’s get some sleep, beautiful.”

She blushed a little, not completely used to his compliments, which he still found adorable, “I just meant that we couldn’t do the shared emotion thing tonight.” Dean could hear the insinuation in her tone, and he practically purred, “Mmmm, I love the way you think,” he told her before leaning down and kissing her again.

The two spent a very intimate night together. It was the perfect way to end their first normal day that they’d had in a really long time, even if there were still things that needed to be taken care of.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 33 - Hell

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[sleepchapter]

how do i say goodbye?

chan x reader

warnings : very short drabble, death implied, breakdown, angst and comfort

summary : someone close to reader in their family died. inspired by the song how do i say goodbye by dean lewis. i altered some of the lines, but any lines inspired by actual lyrics were colored blue.

he had been worried about you. it was only 12 P.M when you said you had to go home for something important. you didn’t even truly know what it was but he had a gut feeling it wasn’t good. you hadn’t come home till 8:30 P.M and he was starting to get worried when you hadn’t been answering his texts checking if you were okay. he was even debating driving to your house but he didn’t want to seem too invasive. he trusted you and knew you’d be home soon. but when you came home with your eyes all red and puffy and your breathing ragged as you tried not to let out sobs to make him aware you had been so distraught created a hole in his heart as he immediately got up and started moving slowly towards you.

“honey, what happened? you can talk to me, i’ve been worried about you..”

it wasn’t until you broke down and let out the loudest sob and fell to the ground, catching yourself on your hands that he decided he’d move closer and hug you tightly. he was usually able to stay calm and collected in situations somewhat similar to this, but seeing you cry like this and him not being able to do anything felt awful to him. your face was in his chest and it was as if you were screaming into it. he felt a tear slip down his face as he was rubbing your back and slowly moved your face up but you wouldn’t look him in the eye. you just kept your head hung low, your sobs filling the room.

“honey, you need to breathe. you’re gonna feel sick if you don’t just take a slow breath in, and a slow breath out…okay..?”

you tried to listen to him but it was still hard to control your breathing. eventually you threw yourself at him and hugged him as tight as you could. you started to finally speak to him, although the words were very broken and hard to understand, he knew it was important to listen, and he did just that.

“how could they leave me behind? they didn’t even say goodbye—”

you didn’t even properly finish what you were saying before you started sobbing loudly again. he finally put two and two together and figured out what happened and he was in shock himself. he didn’t know who it was, but he was close to your family himself. he’s sure once he figures out who died he’ll shed a few tears as well over them, but right now the tears that he’s shedding are over you.

“baby, i’m so— i’m so sorry. i’m here for you, you’re not alone. you’ll get through this..”

he hadn’t noticed, but by now he had a bunch of tears streaming down his face as well. he’d dealt with his members crying many times, he’d even seen you cry a few times before and handled it well, but this was a full on breakdown and it hurt him so much to see you like this. he didn’t know what else to say. he just knew he had to stay like this with you and make sure you were okay. he knows he’ll make sure you’re alright forever and always. he’ll never leave you to deal with this on your on. you’d get through this with him. you’d never be on your own, he’d always be by your side. someday you’ll make it out, and it’ll be with him.

[nexus-my-beloved]

Suptober #1 - Liminal

Prompt #1 of Suptober!! (I will be writing these every two days as there is only 15 prompts!) Word Count: 837

The empty parking lot seemed to stretch on for eternity. 

Rain fell gently, the soft patters of droplets hitting the ground echoing up the floors of the multistory parking garage, seemingly the only noise in the entire area. Everything seemed to stretch on for much longer than it needed to: the parking lot on a single floor was shockingly vast, and for the same layout to be repeated floor after floor of the car park seemed excessive. To walk to a car across the lot from you would entail walking much further than should be required, a trek that felt too much to walk. 

Maybe that was the symbolism of this; a relationship that had a mindless trek, one that would take so long to complete for just the uncertain possibility that the trip might be worth it, the same as this lot was almost infinitely expansive and laid ahead a journey much too far to seem fair to walk. 

The difference between walking this lot and getting closer to Dean was simple: Castiel had wings, something that would allow him to physically travel across this expansive area in seconds, where those wings yielded useless when it came to trying to reach Dean’s heart. 

There were other parallels between this parking lot and the heart of Dean Winchester. Just like this lot, Dean’s heart was expansive, open and wide for someone to come and stay– but only temporarily. His heart was open, full of spaces to be taken, and yet hardly any occupied. For the spaces that were used, it was for his family: a space for Sam, one that sometimes went empty after a particularly harsh fight and Sam thought it necessary to leave, although that space was left untouched for his inevitable return. Other spaces were there for friends– Garth, for one, had a space that he’d taken by sneaking around the security guard at the gate and catching him off-guard, growing on him until his space was officially his. Then there were the other spaces; spaces occupied by loved ones that were long gone, dead, leaving their cars and names behind in spaces that would be filled by no one else. Kevin, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Mary, even John’s begrudging space; all were filled by a car that would never be touched again, one left to rot and rust. 

Dean’s heart was expansive, welcoming to those who needed love, willing to offer solace to those that were hurt. He’d offer you a place in his heart, a spot to park as you got yourself together, and he’d love you– but only temporarily. The only ones allowed forever were his family, and Castiel could understand: family didn’t end with just blood, not for Dean, and those he cared enough about to call family weren’t the kind of people he was going to just let go. 

But then there was the matter of Castiel. Where Sam might’ve had an on-and-off space, one that he was always welcome to return to, it seemed as though Castiel’s space was both there for him to take and laid in spikes to puncture his tires and attempt to keep him from returning. For whatever the reason, Dean couldn’t seem to decide between wanting to keep the angel there with him and wanting him to leave and never come back. For Castiel, it was tiring. 

The journey to Dean’s heart was a slow and painful trek, one he had started on with such confidence that he hadn’t minded repeating back when his will was stronger and he hadn’t known what the path he was walking really was. Since then, however, he’d been stripped of that confidence, stripped of the determination and left with rocks in his shoes and sweat pouring down his neck as he found himself utterly exhausted. Castiel wanted to finish this walk, to get to Dean and ask for his heart in return for his own. Castiel wanted to love Dean, even if he didn’t fully know the implications, and it was in that thought that he found the realization that it might just be another test– he wouldn’t be able to walk through this liminal space until he knew the expanse of just what loving Dean meant. 

And yet, standing here, watching Dean lean against the back of his impala with a hard-to-read expression and a beer in hand, Castiel decided: even if this journey costed him more, costed him his entire life and costed him his soul, he would continue the trek that bled him dry and asked of him until he could give no more. Castiel would walk this path, walk further than he could ever imagine he’d have to walk, just to take the injury that would come with finally knowing, finally understanding Dean Winchester. Even if it killed him, Castiel would walk this far if it meant he could have Dean’s heart, no matter how vast that space in between where he stood now and where he wanted to be was.

[impala-dreamer]

Tell Me about ...the hair swipe

Begging For It

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Sexy and Delicious, 18+

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It was such a simple gesture. The sweep of fingers through long dark hair; the subtle shake of his head as the hair fell back into place. It was an unconscious motion that he barely took note of, just something that his hand decided to do now and then. It wasn’t important, it didn’t mean anything. It was just something that he did. 

Something that drove her absolutely wild. 

Y/N watched from across the big living room as Jensen pushed a hand through his hair again. He’d been letting it grow out lately, and he’d never looked more handsome. Occasionally, he’d threaten to cut it, so shave the beard, to go back to trying to look younger, but Y/N wouldn’t have it. She’d beg him to keep the hair longer, refuse to let him dye the grays from his chin. He was stunning in every way, eye crinkles and all. 

No stranger to his beauty, Y/N had no trouble ever looking at her man, but there was something extra in that hair swipe. There was just something about it that drew her attention, blocking out the world around them. Something so intimate in the way his fingers slid through his hair that made her heart race and her breathing slow. She wanted his hands on her body, wanted those fingers sliding through something even more luxurious and warm.

The party was loud. Someone was strumming a guitar off in a corner, and friends were chattering around her, but Y/N was lost to it all. She existed in a soft, pink bubble of arousal, the feeling growing stronger the longer she kept her eyes on him. 

Jensen could feel her staring and looked up with a shy grin. “What?” he mouthed, eyes narrowing in curiosity. 

Y/N bit her lip and cocked a brow. She lifted her glass to her lips and sought out the tiny plastic straw without looking. “I want you,” she replied silently, accentuating the pucker of her lips and closing them around the straw. She took a sip and the vodka and lime mixed on her tongue. 

Jensen licked his lips and looked down at his lap. He had a way of making himself seem so small and vulnerable while drawing her in deeper. He lifted his eyes and looked at her through a curtain of hair. 

She took a deep breath as the racing pulse settled between her thighs.

He lifted his right hand and her eyes went wide. 

He pushed his fingers through his hair and her composure snapped. 

He barely knew what was happening as she rushed across the room. The dregs of her drink sloshed from the glass and dampened his knee, but she covered it up quickly as she straddled his lap. 

“What’re you do-”

She swallowed his words with a heavy kiss and rolled her hips over his dick. Her free hand tugged through his hair and pulled, making him moan deeply into her mouth. 

“Fuck…” 

When she pulled back, his eyes were glazed and his lips were full, shining from her kiss. 

“You’re making me crazy,” she whispered, leaning to lick at his ear. “Playing with your hair all night like you’re not begging me to pull it.” 

Jensen sucked in a private hiss and set his hands on her hips. 

If anyone was watching, they’d see how his fingers tensed there, wanting to reach further down and grab her ass, tug her closer, and rut up into her. But, they stayed put, locked around the soft curve of her waist. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he lied, turning circles with his thumbs underneath her shirt. 

The secret touch made her skin sizzle and she yanked on his locks once more. 

Jensen bucked his hips unconsciously and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Um-” 

Y/N smirked against his ear. “Wanna find an empty room?” 

He shivered and his grip tightened. “Fuck yes, I do…”

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