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where-dreamers-go · 4 years ago

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“Hearts, Fangs, And Knifes” Spn Gabriel x Reader

(A/N: Based and extended version of my Imagine: Getting hit by a cupid’s arrow while out on a hunt. Did I just write an investigation and hunt?? Didn’t think I’d be doing that, but okay—cool! I hope you enjoy. I’m also double checking that Pages doesn’t change Dean to Bean…again.

Warnings: Canon violence, language, and death. Some angst.

Word Count: 4,767 Words)

“It’s not a simple salt and burn anymore. It probably wasn’t even that to begin with.” You said as you fought the urge to lean on the Chevy Impala, tired.

“Maybe we should check the house again. We could have missed something,” Sam suggested.

Dean crossed his arms and said, “I’m thinking that lady at the diner lied through her teeth.” He looked down to his bloodied shoes.

There had been more than just a haunting, but none of you had seen the attacker clear enough. Which was why you had called Gabriel for back up and assistance since Castiel was busy.

Subconsciously, you rubbed your shoulder. Being that it dislocated earlier, you were still wary even if it was popped back in place.

“Then looks like we’re going to the diner for some milkshakes and a liar,” Gabriel mused.

“I owe you one.” You gestured to your shoulder and the archangel winked.

“Alright. We’ll go.” Dean said. “Grab a dem—….the hell?” His eyes looked somewhere behind you.

Before you could glance over your shoulder, something nailed you from behind. A warmth filled your chest and a lightness filled your limbs.

The boys cursed and you heard them unlock their guns.

“(Y/N)?” Gabriel called softly and hid your face in his chest as he embraced you.

“Get over here!” Dean’s voice shouted from further away.

“Gabe…”

“Shh…”

“What was it?”

He didn’t answer.

“What was it?”

Sam quickly said two words that lead to Gabriel tightening his hold on you.

“A cupid.”

You took in an uneasy breath.

“Get your feathered ass over here!” Dean’s voice was anything but comforting.

With much effort, you pulled out of Gabriel’s arms. You faced the cupid who donned a casual look, jeans and such.

Neither Dean nor Sam lowered their weapons as they tracked the cupid’s movements. The eldest Winchester had closed in on the cupid, keeping a minimum two paces of a distance.

“You’d think humans would be happy to see me.” The cupid said.

“Gabriel,” Sam said and the archangel behind you immediately had his angel blade in hand.

“Oh,” the cupid smirked. “Didn’t know it was you, brother.” They walked over to the group with a languid swagger. “Makes this…a little better.

Gabriel’s eyebrows set in a deep frown and pulled you to his side.

“That’s close enough,” Dean ordered. His green eyes glaring at the cupid.

Still with a smirk, the cupid stopped walking.

“Did you have orders to mark (Y/N)’s heart?” Gabriel took a step forward in a ready stance.

“What, you haven’t been listening, brother?”

“Answer the question.” Dean growled.

“Why? It’s been done.”

Your fingernails dug into your palms.

Why? What’s the whole point? This shouldn’t be happening.

Your feelings for Gabriel had quadrupled. Keeping your feelings at bay and hardly detectable was a skill built over years of practice. That was how you dealt with having a massive crush beyond crushes on an archangel. What you were feeling as you stood there two blocks from the motel and a short drive to the ghost’s house was unavoidable. What you were feeling less than two steps from Gabriel was greatly alarming.

“What do you know about me?” You asked the cupid.

By the look in their eyes they weren’t expecting you to speak let alone that question. The cupid rested on their heels.

“Just that you run around with the Winchesters and Castiel and causing unnecessary problems in Heaven.”

“Anything else?” You pressed.

They shrugged.

“This isn’t a game.” Sam said to the cupid. “Why’d you do it?”

“Why not?” The angel looked to Gabriel, grinning. “Does it bother you, brother?” An angel blade appeared in their grip.

“It does bother me,” Gabriel leaned forward.

You swallowed. The energy in the air was dangerously thick.

Eyes flickered between the two angels.

“Who else did you mark?” Dean asked, losing his patience.

“Who says I completed the match?” He looked to you. “Can a human handle a lifetime of unrequited love?”

Your jaw locked.

“Have fun hunting.”

In a flutter of wings and a sickening grin, the cupid had left.

It took more than a few moments before the Winchesters and Gabriel begun lowering their weapons and putting them out of sight.

Even with the cupid gone. They left more concern and questions for the brothers and Gabriel.

You exhaled, clearing your mind the best you could.

“I think….I think we should go back to the house tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

The boys and archangel had looks of confusion.

“(Y/N)…,” Sam’s voice was calm.

“Come on.” You walked passed them and went to the Impala. Thoughts focused to the hunt, you refused to give your heart the satisfaction of daydreaming nor of the added feelings in you. There was still a monster in town.

Things to do. People to save.

So much for a short hunt.

The drive back to the motel was short and crammed with unspoken words. That didn’t mean that you missed the looks that the men were giving one another nor the quiet glances to you in the backseat. You had all but tuned everyone and everything out as you watched the lights of the motel come into view.

Once out of the car, you were already fishing your key out of the pocket.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You said as you went towards your room. “Night.”

Both Winchesters wished you goodnight. Concern layered in their tones as opposed to the casual ‘goodnight’s.

Once you were alone in your motel room you locked the door.

You sighed. You could have been sitting in the car on the way back from a completed hunt, and on your way out of town by now.

There just had to be a rogue-ticked-off cupid, didn’t there? Still getting over the last hunt. You thought as you took off your shoes. This one was supposed to be easy and short. But no. Freakin’ complicating things more.

Again, you sighed. Think of something else. Colors, narration, something.

So you did. You preoccupied your mind with the present—what you were doing and nothing else. Going to take a shower, you had hoped that there would be enough hot water to ease your muscles. There wasn’t. Not for long anyway.

Mindlessly sitting on the bed in your sleepwear, you ate a snack. Every so often you were mentally yelling and switching to a song any time your thoughts started veering towards anything love or cupid related.

Just need to get through this case. Maybe it’s two cases in one? You thought as you continued eating. Can get that waitress at the diner to talk. Maybe we can catch her in the afternoon or something. Owe Gabriel a milksha—

A flutter of wings was immediately accompanied by Gabriel as he appeared in the middle of the motel room.

“Were you listening?”

“You’ve hardly said a word since being marked. Is it wrong for me to be worried?” Gabriel walked to the end of the bed and took a seat.

“No.” You ate more of the snack, getting your focus away from your heart.

He watched you behind honey-colored eyes.

“At least we know that the monster we’re after has super speed. Narrows it down some. They’re strong too.”

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

He pulled your snacks out of your reach. Eyes boring into your head.

You felt your resolve softening, but you kept your thoughts cluttered or clear. It switched any time it revolved too close to your heart.

“You’re not eating my snacks and you’re going to get frown lines, Gabe.” You sighed. “If this is about the cupid having a mini tantrum….I don’t want to think about it.”

“I can find another cupid….get the mark off. I’ll find the one who marked you—.”

“Gabe,” you interrupted. “We have to hunt this monster first. It’s killing people. But….but if you want to go…go after the cupid….I’m not—you can go. That’s your call.” Your chest felt like it was tightening and air was a rarity.

“No. It isn’t.” His hands gripped the comforter. “It’s your heart.”

Tearing your eyes away from the archangel, you set your focus on the bathroom door. Clearing your thoughts again still held a level of difficulty.

“It’s been a long day. Better to sleep and have a clearer head in the morning, yeah?” You muttered.

A snap of his fingers and the snacks were on the table and you were under the bedcovers while your breath was minty fresh.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you murmured.

“Good night, gumdrop.”

“Good night.”

Offering a small smile, Gabriel teleported out.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fell back onto the mattress.

Way to complicate things, you thought.

Soon exhaustion overpowered your battling thoughts and allowed you a few hours of sleep.

. . .

Suits on and fake IDs pocketed, you and the Winchesters stood by the counter in the diner. The morning sun-rays shone oranges and pinks across most of the surfaces.

“May we have her current address,” Sam asked the manager.

“Yes, sir. Let me write it down for you.” The manager answered as he went to the back.

As the manager disappeared behind a wall, Dean gave a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t think she’s sick, do you?” You asked quietly.

“Depends,” Dean started. “How much does she really know?”

“Just because she called out sick doesn’t mean she was involved with what happened last night,” Sam reasoned.

“If she’s sick,” you said, “Then she’ll be home all day. We need to check the guy’s house again.”

“Agreed. We must have missed something.”

“Not that we knew we were looking for anything besides a ghost,” Dean added.

“Yay,” you sung sarcastically.

The manager reappeared with a paper in hand.

“Here you are. I hope she’s alright. She’s a good person. Good worker.” The manager said as he handed over the paper to Sam.

“Thank you.” Sam smiled. “We just need her help. Thank you for your concern.”

“Thank you,” Dean said with a nod as the three of you walked out of the diner.

Even though neither of you were hungry any more, you were all growing suspicious. How many supernatural creatures were going to appear on this one hunt when you all thought it was over?

“Looks like we’re going to the house again first.” Sam announced. “It’s closer.”

“What should we be looking for?” Dean asked. “The man’s family owns the house and could have taken things.”

“I don’t think so. The guy didn’t really have what some might consider a lavish lifestyle.”

“So we’re back to square one.” Dean got into the driver’s seat as the rest of you climbed in.

“At least we know a bit about him already.” You added in. “Handyman, practically everybody in town knew him…”

“Unusual death in the woods.”

“Still seems random. Why would he be in the woods? Exercising?”

“Getting ready to exercise his time as a ghost and haunting people?”

You could practically feel Sam rolling his eyes in the passenger seat.

On the drive over the defeated-ghost’s house, Sam had already started planning where to look in the house. The usual spots where information was kept. Dean had the radio on, knowing the ride was just long enough for a few songs.

“Can you higher the music some?” You asked. The song was good, yes, however the height in volume helped keep your mind on the song itself and nothing more.

Dean gave an approving smile through the rearview mirror and turned the dial.

During the drive, you noticed Sam checking on you every so often. You knew he was still worried considering you hadn’t so much as hinted about the whole cupid incident the evening prior. He had cause to be worried because you were friends, but to you it wasn’t the time to discuss it. Not that you were ready to.

If you thought the motel smelled a little stale, the inside of the destroyed-ghost’s house was stuffy. No one had been in for at least a couple of weeks.

When was the last time the guy’s family opened a window in here?

The three of you dispersed to different sections of the home. Sam went into another room, you spotted a closet by the kitchen, and Dean went straight to the paper mess on the counter.

Since the three of you had got into town, the man’s family had yet to go by, but who knew when they’d show up. Someone inherited it already. The three of you had to quickly find what you needed.

“People still have these?” Dean had found an old phonebook with corners folded. He flipped through some of its yellow pages.

“They’re a lot thiner now,” you commented. Looking through the closet, you peeked into a cardboard box. It held only door locks.

“Any chance this guy was paranoid of being hunted?”

“What’d you mean?” Dean asked.

“There are at least ten different door locks in here.” You grabbed the box and pushed it on the counter for Dean to have a look.

“There were four deaths before his. Then the guy started haunting…”

“He could have been a victim like the others.”

“He was the local handyman, he knew everyone…”

“That doesn’t mean he had motive. The lady at the diner said he had an affair with the neighbor.”

“Jealousy is a good cover story.”

You frowned, “Was there even a haunting?”

“You’re telling me…some monster has been throwing us off their trail?”

You exhaled.

“Hey.” Sam called from another room.

You and Dean made your way to Sam who had a notebook laid open on the desk.

“You found the guy’s diary?” Dean peered down to the various notepads and scraps of paper. “Or tiny scrapbook?”

“They’re phone numbers to bookstores, a psychic, a private investigator, and even a cryptologist.”

“He knew something was up,” you said.

“Looks like our guy here was close to contacting a hunter.” Dean flicked through the pages.

“Do you think that’s why he was killed? He knew the victims and knew it wasn’t…normal.” Sam said.

“For lack of a better word,” you crossed your arms.

“He might have been trying to stop them—the monster.” Sam thought out loud.

“He got caught.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“But how? He had work, but…did he know where to look?”

“I have an idea where we can start.”

You and Sam looked to the eldest Winchester.

“Diner waitress’ house.”

. . .

Nice and pressed suit jackets back on, you and the boys stepped out of the Impala. Sitting on a well-groomed yard sat a quaint house. Unsuspecting and fitting into the neighborhood.

It was time to get some real answers.

“We don’t know what we’re walking into.” Sam said as the three of you neared the door.

“Keep alert.” Dean advised.

“No distractions.” You breathed in. A mental image of Gabriel was interrupted by Sam’s knocking on the front door.

Quietly, you stood waiting for a response.

Right on cue, the three of you smiled as the lady from the diner answered the door.

“What can I do for you?” She asked as nicely as if you were customers in need of a stack of a hot breakfast.

“We were wondering if we could ask you a few more questions ab—?”

“Of course.” She stood aside as she opened the door more. “Please come in.”

A warning shiver ran up your neck as she smiled.

Hey, Gabriel, you prayed, just letting you know that I have a funny feeling about this waitress.

Sam lead the three of you inside.

The house smelled like lavender and bleach.

You may have enough mental control to divert attention from one thought to another, but you could not help but to wrinkle your nose at the smells.

Passed the entryway, she invited each of you to take a seat on a couch. The back of the couch faced the hallway you entered.

Dean sat rigid beside you. No doubt he sensed something was off or didn’t like how all of you had your backs exposed.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked.

“No, thank you.” Sam answered casually.

It was both amazing and entirely helpful how he could always do that. To make it seem as if it was a warm business meeting with tea.

She sat down in an armchair across from you all and crossed her legs.

“What can I help you with? Did you find out why he’d kill his own neighbor before himself? She was such a darling woman. She always ordered caramel sauce with her pancakes.” She smiled.

“Tasty,” Dean piped up half-heartedly.

The lady’s smile did not fade.

“How did you know him,” Sam began to question. Even going as far as to ask why she thought it was that man in the first place when it was found that he was quite happy with his job.

As the woman began to answer, her voice faded away; your attention drawn elsewhere.

You turned to look behind you. Another woman was standing in the doorway. A similar built to the one in the armchair.

“You three should have left town.” The waitress spoke, she was beside Sam then. Her hand close to touching his head of hair. Smiling at the Winchester, her eyes turned an unnatural shade of blue. As her smile grew, fangs were exposed in place of her front teeth. “We’re glad you stayed.”

“Vetala. Fun.” Dean leaped off of the couch with a knife in hand.

She had moved back to the armchair before Dean’s shoes met the floor.

“Bronze or silver?” You asked.

“Silver.”

Sam was on his feet.

Hand reaching in your suit for your knife, you were pinned to the couch in a second. Your airway was constricted by the waitress’ hand. Her fangs more than too close for your liking.

Sam was shoved somewhere passed the couch after his attempted rescue. His thud against a wall and the floor was rather significant.

On the other hand, Dean hit the vetala hard enough that she loosened her grip on your neck. Turning, she backhanded Dean to the armchair. Both him and the chair toppled backwards and you missed how he flailed his legs to get back onto his feet again.

With a hand searching desperately in your suit, you heard the sounds of Sam and Dean’s continued fight. After finding the right handle, you pulled out your silver knife and plunged it into the vetala’s chest. She faltered and barred her fangs at you.

Somewhere off to the side of the couch, and out of your line of sight, Sam battled against the other monster with blunt hits.

To your surprise, the hand around your neck tightened, her nails digging into your skin.

Why isn’t it working? What’s wr—?

An arm wrapped around the vetala’s throat and yanked back.

“Twist the knife!” Dean ordered.

Grabbing ahold of the knife with both hands, you rotated the weapon.

In another moment, the vetala’s body stiffened and then slacked completely. Dean shrugged the body off to the side so it would not land on you.

Behind the couch, Sam had the other vetala in an arm lock before using his own silver blade to kill the monster. Finally it dropped to the floor, Sam looked away from the body with a flip of his hair.

“You alright, Sam?” Dean asked as he helped you off of the couch. He made sure not to step on the dead vetala.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“So…” You said and rubbed at your neck. “Was there a haunting or was it a set up—fake out…thing?”

“We all need a drink, is what I think.” Dean stated.

“Heh, you rhymed.”

“Shut it.” His tone was not firm nor irritated in the slightest. Perhaps tired.

You raised your eyebrows in a playful challenge and called out, “Gabriel, if you’re not busy—”

“Don’t tell me it was the waitress.” Gabriel had appeared beside you. “Really wanted that milkshake.”

“Yeah. A pair of vetala.” Sam explained briefly. “They had a nice operation going for them.”

The archangel’s eyes darted between the bloodied knife in your hand and your neck you were still touching. His jaw muscles tensed. In a snap of his fingers the pair of vetala were gone.

Handy, you thought. More than anything, you were relieved and overjoyed that Gabriel appeared when you called. You wished you could be as helpful to him. You wished you could do more for him. He deserved more positivity.

“Let’s get going,” Dean said as he started towards the front door.

“There were only two of them?” You asked. “Not a nest or anything?”

“Vetala work in pairs.” Sam answered.

“But if the archangel over here would like to do a house check,” Dean smirked, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You glanced over at said archangel.

“Be back in a sec.” Gabriel zapped out.

“How come he listens to you more?” Sam asked as you two turned to join Dean.

The warmth in your chest brought a smile to your face. You did love the extra attention Gabriel gave you. It made loving him a little more bearable.

“Maybe I ask a little nicer,” you shrugged. “I don’t remember ever yelling at him or anything like that.”

Why would I? You thought. They’re the ones with the weird tense relationship….some trickster stuff. Glad I missed that. It would change things….I think.

Outside, Gabriel stood beside the Impala.

“Let’s go.” He sung.

“What?” Sam opened the passenger side door. “You got plans?”

“Yes. I can have plans.”

You hardly felt your shoulders slouch in disappointment, but you could feel the cold, emptiness in your stomach.

“Will you be gone long?” You asked.

Gabriel tilted his head and spoke, “You’re coming with me.”

“Hey,” Dean interjected. “If this is about finding that piece of shit-cupid, I want in.”

You tensed. Thoughts swam in multiple directions before you could stop them. Bits and pieces more clear than others that you hoped Gabriel didn’t catch. You didn’t want to burden him or make him uncomfortable with how you felt. Not even the cupid who marked you could had known that you already held romantic feelings for the archangel. Although out of everyone, maybe Sam knew, he was perceptive in that way.

“(Y/N).” Sam had lightly nudged your shoulder.

“What?”

“Uh…you kind of tuned us all out.” Sam said, his face full of concern. “You can tell us. I mean…we will go after the cupid. What they did to you was wrong.”

Exhaling quietly, you ducked down and squeezed into the car’s backseat.

“(Y/N),” Dean turned to look at you from the driver’s seat. “I don’t know who the bastard marked you with or how confused or pissed you might be, but don’t you dare think for a second that this is less important than a hunt. I won’t stand for that shit and neither with Sam. Got it?”

You nodded. Your fingers pulling at your sleeves.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered.

Sam got into the car and shut the door.

“We’ll let Cas know…” Dean turned the key in the ignition.

At the flutter of wings, you jolted. Your palms clammy like if it was your first hunt. You dared not to look Gabriel in the eyes as he settled in the backseat. Regardless, you could feel him studying you intensely.

The car made its way back to the motel and you had never felt so incredibly awkward. For one, you knew that your friends wanted to know who you were in love with. Two, Gabriel could sense your emotions and might have been reading your mind every second. Three, you weren’t sure if you should tell any of them the full truth.

They were your friends and deserved to know, but that didn’t mean you were obligated to nor ready.

As you walked back into your rented room, you went through a mental checklist. What you did not expect however, was Gabriel had followed you inside, closing the door silently.

You walked straight to your bag and set it on the foot of the bed. The first thing you wanted to do was have a quick change into something casual for the ride back. Getting wrinkles out of a suit wasn’t on your to-do list. You made sure to not take any more time than necessary changing in the bathroom and washing any blood off.

Back in the main room, you ran on automatic, thoughts preoccupied by a random, catchy song. Gabriel only watched, not saying a word, which only made your nerves alert you.

Once you zipped your bag and turned around to be two breathes away from Gabriel. Your heart practically leaped to your throat.

Honey-colored eyes captured your gaze. The bag in your grasp was tugged away without any resistance from you.

“It’ll be easier if I stay away until we get the mark off of your heart.” Gabriel said.

“What?”

“It would be selfish of me if I took advantage of that mark.” He traced a small invisible pattern across the fabric covering your sternum.

Incredibly short breathes made it in and out of your lungs.

His hand returned to his side and he took a step back.

“I’ll put this in the car for you.” He said as the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Then I’ll go…”

It felt as if clawed hands were tearing at your heart. Your eyes stung from unshed tears.

“Gabe.” Your voice was small and broke at the last sound.

“I’ll fix this, gumdrop.” He didn’t look at you from the door. “Don’t worry.”

“Gabe.” Your feet refused to move. Your mind whirling with meanings to his words. “Do you love me?”

After a few moments of sheer silence, he sighed. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

Your hands formed into fists as you forced words out, “Regardless of the stupid cupid arrow or mark. Do you…do you actually love me? Did you mean it with every flirt? Every time you would show up when I asked or needed you? When I was scared or happy? Because this isn’t like a movie love spell. Have I treated you any differently?”

Even from across the room, Gabriel’s eyes could root you to the spot and read you like a book.

You couldn’t believe, well actually you could, that it took your heart and feelings to be tampered with for Gabriel to express his feelings for you. To open up more.

“Gabriel,” you swallowed. “Taking the mark away wouldn’t change me. The feelings were already there.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Read my mind! Freakin’ go through it. None of this is new. I just never had it in me to tell you or ask you out.” You finally took a longer breath. “I’m only human.”

Gabriel snapped your bag to who knows where and took long strides to be back in front of you. His warm hands held yours and rubbed the tension away until you no longer had your fingers digging into your palms.

“You’re not only a human. Don’t say that,” he shook his head. “And I’ll tell you and remind you in all the ways of how you are more. I’ll tell you how intelligent and kick ass you are until you get sick of it and then I’ll tell you more. I’ll compliment you until Sam and Dean roll their eyes into the back of their skulls and then I’ll shout it from every ‘tallest building’ in every country because everyone should know how incredible you are. How perfect I think you are.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed as tears blurred your vision.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s lips curved up and he nudged his nose against yours.

The wide smile on your lips could hardly match the amount of joy and love you felt building within you.

“I should have read your mind weeks ago.” Gabriel kissed your forehead then your eyebrow, followed by your temple, your ear, earlobe, cheekbone—

KNOCK KNOCK THUMP

“Hey, you okay in—“

“Hold on!” You shouted to Dean outside. “I’m having a moment!”

“What?”

You laughed lightly.

The archangel’s lips made their way to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, Gabriel,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed your nose.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He hooked your hands behind his neck. “Say the word and we’ll go somewhere alone. Anywhere.”

~~~

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Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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mcdannoangelwolf · 3 years ago

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Here is the prompt fill! I really love writing this. Hope you enjoy it. @whydouwantaname Stucky and Destiel. “So, tell me again what Rowena said?” Castiel asked as Dean looked over the map on the hood of the Impala. “Well, I guess running Hell isn’t enough to keep her busy so she keeps track of witches up here topside. She says that she detected two magical energies in and around this place in Indiana, Vernon. One using bad magic and one using good magic. Personally, I never saw the difference. She figures it would be something for us to look into.” Dean replied, tracing the route from the truck stop they were at to their destination. He could have GPSed the trip but Dean was used to using physical maps. Plus paying attention to his phone would have taken his attention away from his music and Cas. “You know that magic is useful for both good and bad Dean. Like the warding sachets that Sam has created.” Cas replied and Dean rolled his eyes. “Yea, yea, I know. Anyway, I found the best route, we’re about fifty miles out.” Dean replied, memorizing the route before folding the map back up. “You know that I have my wings back, I could have flown us there in an instant.” Cas reminded him as they loaded back into the impala. “I know, and I’m happy that Jack juiced your mojo and fixed your wings, but you know I hate flying. It makes me feel like I’ve been turned inside out and outside in all at once. Besides my baby is stocked with everything we'll need to deal with witches.” Dean pretended not to see the soft smile and eye roll Cas gave him as he patted the dashboard. After everything was done, Chuck was sent off and life was restored to the planet. Jack wasted no time in forcing himself into the Empty to rescue Cas and a few dozen other angels. Apparently, Jack only managed to pull it off by promising the Shadow that it would be the last time he interfered with the Empty. The Shadow had been so desperate for sleep it had agreed. Cas and the rescued angels had gone up to Heaven with Jack to set things right. Jack had completely reconstructed the place. He tore down the walls and let everyone be together. Dean thought it sounded great but he was in no hurry to see it for himself. Not now that Cas was back on Earth with him. After helping Jack Upstairs Cas had come back to Earth to stay with him and Sam. Dean had immediately returned Cas confession. Since then the two of them had been navigating the changes in their relationship. It was strange how much had and hadn’t changed between them. The closeness and the looks that had always been there were still there. Now though they were acknowledged for what they were. There were small touches and smiles. They still talked and laughed, and yea they bickered, like before but now there was a different energy to it. An openness and ease that wasn’t there before. They hadn’t done anything more physical than casual touches and holding hands. They hadn’t even kissed, but Dean was still excited. He was looking forward to how things could be for them. “What is the plan for when we reach Vernon?” Cas asked him, pulling him out of his musings. “Rowena said a lot of the activity is centered on four cemeteries. Two of them are small, historical cemeteries that haven’t been used much in the last century. One is dedicated to one of the local Catholic churches and the other the main cemetery for the county. Rowena figures that the dark witch is screwing with spirits or necromancy while the good witch is stopping them or cleaning up after them.” Dean replied, reaching over to fiddle with the radio. Looking for something that wasn’t a country station. “So there hasn’t been any direct conflict between the witches? That is unusual for witches on opposing ends.” Cas mused before tapping the radio and auto-tuning it to a classic rock station. “Thanks babe.” Dean smiled but then froze. He had NEVER used a pet name for a lover and only ever jokingly with Cas. At a stop-light, he chanced a sideways glance at Cas to find the angel smiling at him. Dean smiled in return and reached over to

squeeze Cas’ knee. They passed the last of the short trip mostly in companionable silence. Sometimes trading information about the case. Once in Vernon Dean kept an eye out for the hotel. The place looked pretty typical for small-town America. A big courthouse with tall, historical brick buildings and squat shops at the center. The newer shops and homes took up the rest. Finding the hotel where Dean had made reservations ahead of time they pulled in. “I’m sorry sir, there seems to have been a mix-up in your reservation. The double queen you had reserved is now occupied,” The receptionist apologized as they tried to check it, “I don’t know how it happened. The only thing we can offer is a king suite. At no extra charge of course.” Dean fumed silently for a few moments. Cas didn’t sleep much so the king would be okay…but he had got the double queen in case Cas wanted to rest. It had only been a month and some change and they were still getting their feet wet. “The suite will be fine, thank you.” Cas answered for him before he could. The receptionist glanced between the two of them before looking back to her computer with a small smile and a blush. One that Dean refused to mirror. A few moments later the two of them were settling into the suite. It was nice. Long but a bit narrow, a king-sized bed across from a dresser with a wall-mounted flat-screen. There was a small two-man table by the window overlooking the parking lot. Along with a desk, loveseat, and coffee table. “The view leaves much to be desired but the room is quite nice.” Cas spoke, looking out of the window before taking the room. “Yea, better than a lot of places that we’ve stayed.” Dean replied, pulling some of Sam’s warding charms out of his bag. “These are rather ingenious little bundles.” Cas remarked, hanging one on either side of the curtain rod. “Yea SamWitch is pretty proud of them. Him and Eileen put them together out of Rowena’s research. With Rowena keeping the demons in line and Chuck off his high horse we’re probably not hunted anymore. You never know though.” Dean hung a charm on the doorknob as he spoke. He wasn't sure what the small black pouches had in them. But the contents and symbols stitched on the fabric hid them supernatural radars. They also blocked the entry of entities with ill intent. “So what is the plan of action?” Cas asked once they finished. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to pull out the FBI badges with what little info we have. The research I did, didn’t show any problems or injuries from whatever is or was happening. I figure we take a turn around town, see if we can pick up any gossip first. Then head over to the county cemetery. Rowena said that’s where the most activity has been.” Dean answered and Cas nodded. The hotel wasn’t far from the town center to the two set out on foot. They poked through a couple of antique shops before stopping in at a small café. “You know I heard Henry Vanodasol, that does the mowing down at the county cemetery, chased two strangers out again the other evening.” Dean’s ears perked up as he sipped his coffee and he zoned in on a pair of older ladies by the counter. “I heard that the groundskeeper out at the Selmire graveyard chased someone out the other night. He never got a good look at them, or what they were doing. But you know the old stories about that place, ghosts and cults wandering the woods. You get kids and thrill-seekers in there all the time.” Her friend replied, seeming unconcerned. “Oh I don’t care about Selmire, that place has been boarded up for a hundred years. I do care about strangers down in the county wandering around doing whatever they want. My husband is buried there, my parents and brother too. I plan to be down there. I don’t want some brats meddling around.” The first returned, looking scornful over her mug. “Oh Marge, calm down, you’ll give yourself another stroke. I’m sure it was nothing. County is too pristine and well-kept for anyone to care about fiddling around. I’m sure it was some folks on a lark. You know how the Vanodasol’s are, always

sticklers about the time. They were probably a minute past six and Henry got hot-headed.” The older lady's friend once more waved her off but Dean had heard enough. He shared a look with Cas before abandoning their cups and heading for the door. “Sounds like we have a lead, but which one do we check out?” Cas asked once they were outside. “I say we look at county, Rowena said it was the most active and most recent. If that’s a bust we can head out to Selmire.” Dean replied and Cas nodded in agreement. After heading back to the Impala they made a short drive down to the county cemetery. As they drove through the gates Dean silently agreed with the lady from the café. Despite holding graves over two hundred years old it was much less creepy and depressing than many of the cemeteries Dean had been in. It was wide open with a few trees dotted around. The grounds were well kept and even the older headstones seemed in good condition. “This is a very beautiful place. Simple but elegant. Very peaceful.” Cas remarked after they had parked and gotten out. “Yea, it’s nice. Makes me even more pissed that some witches have been fucking around.” Dean replied, opening the trunk to grab his clip of witch-killing bullets. Loading his gun he saw Cas cock an eyebrow but the angel didn’t comment. Fully prepared they set off. Not wanting to arouse suspicion Dean made a show of playing tourist. He pointed out particularly well-decorated graves and the occasional statue. Cas was quick to catch on and join in. He would lean in close like they were sharing quiet conversation while pointing things out. “We’re being watched.” Cas muttered under his breath as they stopped to “admire” a large and ornately carved tombstone. “Yea I got that feeling too, haven’t seen anyone though. You?” Dean asked, leaning in close and tossing an arm over Cas’ shoulders for show. “A few times I glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye." Cas wrapped an arm around his waist and Dean had to remind himself it was for show, “But it wasn’t solid. I’m no witch but I detect a bit of magic in the air. I would say one of the witches is watching us through a spell. Perhaps something like the astral projection spell Rowena was so fond of.” “Let’s head back, see if it follows. Don’t make it look like we noticed.” Dean replied, giving Cas a squeeze before breaking apart and setting off. The two stayed close and continued to tourist ruse. As the parking lot, and the impala, came into sight Cas grasped his hand. Normally Dean would be thrilled but it was way too hard to be casual. “Dean, there is someone in the trees behind the parking lot.” Cas spoke, looking at the ground as though embarrassed. Dean fought the urge to look and instead pulled Cas close to his side. “Good catch, I didn’t see them. Stay natural.” Dean replied leaning in to look like he was whispering in Cas’ ear. They kept up the tourist-couple charade right up till they got to car. Closer now Dean could see the vague outline of someone standing in the trees. Hidden by shadow and long hanging branches he could just make them out. Dean made a beeline for the trunk to look for something to flush the watcher out. He didn't want Cas to mojo a civilian. Nor did he want to risk pulling a gun. Finding nothing that wouldn’t cause a scene Dean closed the trunk and turned to Cas. As the trunk latched the air next to the impala’s passenger door shimmered and a guy materialized out of nowhere. “This is a pretty sweet ride for a hunter. Most I’ve seen drive beat-up old pick-ups or grungy station wagons.” The guy said and Dean had his gun pulled and trained on him. In the same instant, Cas appeared next to him, angel blade in hand. “Now, now fellas; there’s no need for any of that. We’re on the same side.” The guy said, not at all phased at having a gun trained on him. “Why don’t you tell us who the hell you are and we’ll decide whose side you’re on?” Dean offered, circling the car to get a better look at the guy. He leaned back against the door of the impala, hands shoved into the pockets of his black

jeans. Looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “The name is Steve, Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.” The guy, Steve, inclined his head at each of them as he introduced himself. Without lowering his gun Dean took stock of Steve. He was short and slim and his shaggy blonde hair that was carefully and deliberately parted to the right in a way that felt old-fashioned. It was a strange clash with the hipster outfit of black jeans, converse, and red and black flannel. Despite his unassuming appearance, there was a definite air of power around Steve. A spark of something other, that lit up his vivid blue eyes. A spark Dean had seen in Rowena’s eyes, and other witches, many times over the years. “You’re a witch.” Dean said, sharing a look with Cas, who nodded in return. “And you’re a hunter,” He nodded to Dean before looking at Cas, “and I don’t know what you are. But you aren’t human, demon, or witch.” “And I’m a Pisces and we’re all standing around in a graveyard like a bunch of fat-heads. Can we move this along Stevie?” Dean swung his gun toward the new voice to see the guy who had been hanging back in the trees step out into the parking lot. “Sorry Buck, I wanted to make sure these two weren’t gonna be a problem,” Steve pushed off the car and strutted over to Buck’s side, “Fellas, this is James Buchannan Barnes, Bucky for short.” “Only Stevie calls me Bucky and only friends call me Buck. You knuckleheads are neither, so you can call me James.” Bucky, Dean decided to call him Bucky just to piss him off, replied with a smile. “I am Castiel and this is Dean Winchester.” Dean didn’t take his eyes off the pair but felt Cas move to his side. “Dean, Castiel, it’s good to meet you. But Bucky is right. While I’m guessing you’re here about recent grave-bothering this isn’t the place for it. Why don’t we take it somewhere more private?” Steve offered, leaning into Bucky’s side. Bucky was a real flip from Steve. His dark brown hair was cut in a similar way to Dean’s own, short and stylish. He was tall and buff. His broad shoulders accentuated by a black leather jacket. Coupled with matching leather gloves, dark wash jeans, and black boots he gave of biker/bade boy vibe. “Dean and I have a room at the hotel in town. We could go there and talk.” Cas offered and Dean, who still hadn’t lowered his gun, snapped to look at Cas. Cas was looking at the pair and Dean couldn't believe he had invited a witch and his bodyguard back to their room. But then Cas turned to him and there was a twinkle in his eye. That was when Dean remembered the warding pouches. Protection against anyone who would cause them harm. Dean nodded and finally lowered his gun, tucking it back under his coat and turning back to the witch. “We’ll meet you there. And if we like what you have to say, then we can all go home. Safe and sound.” Dean offered, giving the pair his patented half-smirk. “Sounds like a plan. See you there.” Steve replied and he and Bucky turned and walked into the trees before shimmering out of sight. Dean turned back to Cas and nodded at the Impala. Once inside Dean turned to question the angel. “What do you think, is that them?” “Steve is a witch, there is no doubt about that,” Cas replied, pulling on his seatbelt, “He tries to hide it but there is a powerful air of magic around him. A strength I have only felt with one other witch. Rowena.” Dean pulled on his own belt before firing up the car and pulling out of the lot. “Great, we invited a super-witch back to the hotel. What about the other guy, Bucky?” Dean asked. “I get a peculiar feeling from James. As though there is magic in or around him. But not in the same way it is with Steve. And while he is powerful I detect no trace of darkness around Steve. Or James for that matter.” Cas replied in a bemused sort of way. “So you think this is the white witch?” Dean questioned, feeling a bit relieved. “I believe that it is far more likely yes. Though I do not have the experience with witches that you do I have noticed that those that practice, or have practiced, dark magic

often have an…unclean…feeling to them. Though not in the same way demons do.” Cas tilted his head and squinted his eyes in the way Dean always equated with curious and confused. It was fucking adorable. Dean thought about Cas’ words the entirety of the short drive back to the hotel. He wanted to say the unclean feeling was the feeling of magic in general. But as he thought about it he had to admit it wasn’t. He didn’t get the same feeling of unease when Max, the only witch he knew who hadn’t used his powers in some dark way, as he did around Rowena or Ruby. But given Ruby was a demon maybe she didn’t count. As the hotel came into view though Dean pushed the thought away for later examination. His complicated relationship with witches and magic could wait till they got to the bottom of things. *** “You sure this was a good idea Stevie? Meeting this hunter and whatever his boyfriend is in their room?” Bucky asked Steve as they waited in the parking lot. “Sure I’m sure Buck. I’m sure they’ve got some warding up, something to protect them from evil. That’s why they wanted to meet here. Since we aren’t evil there won’t be a problem.” Steve replied, leaning back against the car, eyes closed and face turned up to sky. Bucky let himself be distracted by the sheer beauty that was his doll. The sun made his hair shine pale gold and his skin glow. “That Dean character didn’t seem like he cared much which way a witch swung back at the cemetery.” Bucky replied after he let himself ogle Steve long enough. Steve smiled wider and finally turned to look at him with bright blue eyes. “Yea, he’s had some bad dealing with magic. Probably some nasty borrowers. But we don’t have to worry about it. I get the feeling that tiger is actually a house cat once you get past the guns and gruff.” Steve chuckled. Bucky bristled and moved in front of Steve, blocking the light and settling his hands on Steve’s waist. “You like guns and gruff.” Bucky accused, making Steve laugh harder. “I like guns and gruff when it’s you, fat-head,” Steve put his arms around Buck’s neck with a smile, “You know you’re my best, and only Fella. Besides, there’s already something going on between those two. You saw them at the graveyard. You and I both know you can only act that good if you’ve got actual feelings for each other.” Bucky nodded but didn’t reply. He had clocked the connection between the pair too. Even before they started with their couple “act”. The awkwardness they had shown was too earnest and heartfelt to be fake. Whatever was going with Dean and Castiel it was obviously genuine and pretty new. Instead of replying Bucky let himself enjoy Steve's embrace for a couple of minutes. When he managed to pull away he leaned back against their car. Cozying up closer than before. They had lived through a lot of decades. Seen a lot of change. But he still wasn't used to the level of freedom he and Steve had in public. Steve didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups as him and always enjoyed PDA. Thankfully he wasn't upset about Bucky’s own sometimes reticence. They were still a work in progress, even after all these years. Bucky hadn’t settled for more than a few minutes when Dean and Castiel pulled into the parking lot. Whatever his misgivings about this meeting, and the hunters themselves, Bucky had to admit Dean drove one helluva car. “How the hell did you two get here before us? Some witchy bullshit?” Dean’s tone when he got out made Bucky bristle but Steve laughed. “We’ve been here a lot longer than you, we know the backroads and the side streets. The shortest distance between two points isn’t always a straight line.” Steve told them and Bucky smirked. “Technically speaking, it is,” Castiel replied tilting his head like a confused dog, “Though that only applies to the amount of distance that needs traveling. Not the time it takes to travel said distance. When one takes into account things such as stop signs, traffic lights, and flow of traffic I suppose the adage is both correct and incorrect.” As Castiel spoke Bucky noticed that Dean looked both

endeared and long-suffering. Bucky could sympathize. He frequently felt that way about Steve. “So are we gonna stand out here shooting the breeze all day or can we go in and get down to brass tacks?” Bucky offered before anyone else could speak. For a moment Dean looked like he was going to protest but ended up nodding and jerking his head toward the hotel. Both he and Steve smiled and nodded at the receptionist as they entered. They had stayed at the hotel for the first few months they were in town until they could swing their own place. It was the middle-brow chain hotel but a nice place. They had enjoyed their stay. A short and awkward elevator ride later saw them outside a hotel door as Dean checked his pockets for the key. The door read 199 and Bucky smiled to himself. It was the same room he and Steve had occupied. Part of him wanted to mention it, if only to mess with Dean more, while the rest knew it would be a bad idea. Dean would probably end up accusing them of more “witchy bullshit”. “Damn it I know I have the damn thing.” Dean’s grumbling pulled Bucky from his thoughts and he smirked as the annoyed hunter. Steve leaned forward, probably to magic the door open. Before he could Castiel leaned in and tucked his hand into the back pocket of Dean’s jeans. Palm forward. Dean yelped and jumped and Bucky had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Steve though, had no such compunction and let out a mirthful snort. “Cas, what the hell?!” Dean yelped, voice high and face pinking, as he spun to face his companion. Castiel held up the plastic room keycard. Bucky watched as Dean fumed for a moment before snatching the card and opening the door. He also kept an eye on Stevie as they passed through the doorway. Stevie was still stifling giggles but as they passed through the threshold. Once into the room he stiffened for a moment before relaxing. Steve was the witch but after years together and Bucky’s enhancement he had learned to feel the presence of magic. As they moved into the room he could feel the slight tingle of warding magic on his skin. It pressed into him for a brief moment, as if trying to push him away. It ceased after a moment and wrapped around him. Welcoming him into its protection. Bucky, knowing he was being watched by Dean and Castiel, gave no outward sign of his feeling through. Instead, he followed Steve as he strutted across the room, claiming the two-man table by the window. He knew Steve remember that this had been their room. The little table got a lot of morning sun and had been Steve's favorite spot. “Okay, so, as Bucky said; getting down to brass tacks. You guys are wasting your time here. Whatever you’re investigating, whatever you’ve heard. It’s over with.” Stevie told the hunters as he took a seat. Bucky lounged down in the seat across the table, fingers interlinked and ankles crossed, as he waited for the show to start. There was no way Dean was going to accept Steve’s assurances. Castiel he wasn’t sure about, try as he might he couldn’t get a read on the…well he assumed he was a he, a man. He had heard Steve say he wasn’t human, though he looked like one. Bucky wasn’t one to judge though. Dean was the only pure human in the room. “And why the hell would I take a witch's word for anything,” Dean snarked right on time, “We’ve got reports that two witches have been screwing around with the graveyards around here. You’re probably one of them since that’s where we found you.” Dean’s distrust of witches was obvious and Bucky couldn’t help but be curious about the experiences that had caused it. Bucky rolled his left shoulder, he was no stranger to scars. “I don’t know who you got your info from but it’s old. There was another witch here, someone who took the craft to a dark place, Bucky and I put a stop to it. We were at the cemetery today to make sure there were no traces of his work left. Then you came driving in in a car so warded that novice could feel it coming from a mile away. We stuck around to see why.” Steve replied brightly. “It’s a nice car, by the way. She’s a 67,

yea?” Bucky questioned. He already knew it was but the thought if he distracted Dean they could move on. “Yea and you guys were in that bug outside; the blue 65?” Dean smirked and Bucky rolled his eyes. They always got comments about the beetle. He didn’t care though. Steve loved that car and for him, Bucky could put up with anything. “Perhaps you two can trade car stories later,” Castiel spoke up, “For now perhaps you could give us a little more detail about what has been happening here and how you stopped it? That would let Dean and I feel more at ease with leaving.” Bucky looked over to Steve, who was starring a Castiel with a calculating look. He knew Steve was thinking about how much to share. Being too vague would only cause them to push more. But neither of them wanted to spill their whole history to a random hunter and his non-human boyfriend. “I’ll make you a deal,” Steve replied, “I’ll tell you a story, if you tell us what you are. You look human, act human, but you’re not. You have too much light, energy. You’re like a forest fire stuffed into a cardboard tube. But without incinerating it.” Bucky looked between Dean and Castiel as Steve finished. The pair shared a look, loaded with meaning and unspoken words. After a moment they nodded to each other and Castiel turned back to them. “I am an Angel of the Lord. A Seraphim to be exact. My body once belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak. A descendent of Noah. Jimmy has long since passed into Heaven, making this body my own as much as my angelic form is.” Castiel told them, completely non-plussed. Steve looked at him and Bucky shrugged his shoulders. It made as much sense as anything else they had seen over the years. “Yea, okay.” Steve offered and Bucky nodded along. “That’s it? Okay?” Dean asked, incredulous, and Steve nodded at him. “I’m a witch, Buck and I have seen a lot of weird shit. I might have some follow-up later. But for now, I’m good.” Steve shrugged and for some reason, Dean looked annoyed. “Now, your story.” Castiel reminded and Steve launched into it. “I don’t know what you heard or who you heard it from. But there was another witch here. A guy by the name of Brock Rumlow. Bucky and I have a History with him. We’ve dealt with him for years. A long time ago his powers were bound, weakened to such an extent that he wasn’t much of a threat. Eventually, he found his way here. This little place is special, with lots of power spots around. The cemeteries are a few of them. Rumlow decided to try using necromancy to strengthen his powers. He called up the souls of some witches buried around here. I’m sure you guys know more than most, ghosts and spirits don’t like being screwed with. The souls of witches even more so. When Buck and I got here and confronted him the souls of the witches rebelled. They helped me bind the last of Rumlow’s powers and I erased his memory for good measure.” Steve’s story was the bare bones of events, leaving out their history. Bucky hoped it would be enough to pacify the pair. “What do you think Cas?” Dean asked after a moment. “He’s telling the truth, it also fits with Rowena said about there being two witches on opposite ends. But she had said there had been no conflict between them. When did you confront this Rumlow?” Castiel directed the last at Stevie. Just by looking at his face though Bucky knew Steve wasn’t listening. “Rowena, you mean Rowena Macleod?” Stevie asked, all excited, and Bucky dropped his head back with a groan. “Yea we know her, she's the one who turned us on to there being an issue here. How do you know her?” Dean replied. “How do I know her, how do you know her? Rowena hated hunters,” Steve went from excited to suspicious in an instant and Bucky sat up straighter in case he needed to intervene, “Did you capture her, kill her?” Steve demanded. “Cool your jets pipsqueak, Rowena might not be among the living anymore but we didn’t kill her. Not to mention she’s doing better now than she was when she was alive.” Dean told them and Bucky watched Steve deflate and slump back into his

chair. “Rowena’s dead…how…she was so powerful,” Steve said to himself before looking back to Dean, “If she’s dead how do you talk to her, what do you mean she’s doing better?” Steve questioned and despite not being her biggest fan, despite what she had done for him, Bucky was curious too. “That…is a very long story.” Castiel replied and Dean snorted in derision. “I was born in 1918, Bucky in 1917; we’ve got the time.” Steve all but growled and it was Bucky’s turn to smirk. He always loved it when Stevie got commanding. It was hot. “You’re over a hundred years old…I’ll never understand how you witches live so long.” Dean grunted, shaking his head. “When you use magic, light or dark, it extends your life. The stronger you are, the more use it, the longer you live. You can also use magic to extend the lives of others. Like I do with Buck. He’s not a witch,” Steve replied as though Dean’s statement hadn’t been rhetorical, “Now tell me about Rowena.” “Cas, let me talk to you in private for a minute,” Dean jerked his head toward the door, “And no magic snooping.” “Are you sure you want to know this Stevie?” Bucky asked once Dean and Castiel was out in the hall. “Rowena…she meant a lot to me, Buck. I know you never liked her, but I need to know what happened.” Steve replied quietly and Bucky reached across the table to take one of his hands. Before he could say anything though Dean and Castiel came back in. Both of them sat down on the bed facing them and looked grim. “Rowena’s death is tied up in much larger events. Events that neither Dean nor I wish to revisit. We’ll tell you about Rowena’s part in it, but nothing beyond that.” Castiel offered and Dean nodded along. Bucky watched Steve’s face go through several expressions and he knew Steve wanted to argue the point. But in the end, his face became neutral and he nodded. “Rowena, as much as I hate to admit it, helped save the world,” Dean started and Bucky had to bite his tongue, “A…powerful being…cracked open Hell, releasing the souls and demons held there. We managed to isolate them but we couldn’t put them back. It was Rowena that figured out how to close Hell back up. She sacrificed herself to draw the ghosts and demons into her body. Once she had them all, before the rupture sealed, she jumped in.” “How the HELL does that equate to her doing better than her being alive? She’s sealed in Hell!” Steve shot to his feet as he spoke and Bucky could feel the power radiating off him as Steve strove to control it. “Rowena isn’t just in Hell, Steve,” Castiel offered, “She rules Hell. When she died she took control of the demons and reshaped the entire realm. We’ve spoken to her. She is, as unlikely as you might think it is, happy.” Bucky watched as Steve crumpled in on himself before dropping back into his chair. “Rowena was like…not like a mother but…kind of like an aunt to me. She was my teacher, she taught me magic.” Steve confessed quietly. “We never knew that Rowena had students. She…she didn’t seem like the teaching type.” Castiel offered. “She was, once. She taught me…but she also taught Brock,” Steve wiped a hand over his eyes as he spoke, “That’s another long story.” “Cas is as old as creation itself and I’ve died more times than I can count. We’ve got time.” Dean paraphrasing Steve’s earlier statement actually made both of them laugh. “Before magic…I was constantly on death's door. I had a list of ailments as long as my arm. Coupled with Pneumonia or bronchitis every fall and winter. Allergies and hay fever in the spring in summer. All that with asthma on top of it. Growing up in Brooklyn in the thirties and forties was…it was a miracle I made it to my twenties.” Steve stopped here and Bucky knew bringing it all up, almost a century later, was hard on him. He also knew that Steve wouldn’t stop now. So he reached across the table and took his hand again. “The depression era is often considered the height of the eugenics movement,” Castiel offered, “With your health concerns I imagine you were also treated quite poorly for being sickly. I can

imagine that would make anyone susceptible to the manipulations of someone as clever as Rowena.” Bucky once more stifled a chuckle, not at Castiel’s words but at the response, Stevie was likely to have. “You don’t get it,” Steve huffed out without the outburst Bucky was expecting, “Rowena didn’t manipulate me. I won’t say she didn’t try. She did. But it wasn’t like that. She…she was good to me. She gave me a gift.” Bucky could, and had, argued about Rowena’s intentions with Steve but he couldn’t deny that he was right. “I apologize, I’ve told Dean several times, in the last few days alone, that Rowena was and is capable of good. Please, continue.” Castiel apologized. “My mom died in 36, she was a nurse. She did everything she could to keep me alive and healthy. But I had a penchant for getting into trouble. Into fights. After she died Bucky and I were living together. We’ve been friends since were kids and after we started living together we finally got together. He did his damndest to keep me out of trouble but…he wasn’t always successful. It was during one of these fights that I met Rowena. It was early in the evening and I was on my way home from the shop I was working at and this guy tried to mug me. I was fighting him off and Rowena kinda swooped in and hit the guy with a spell. Knocked him out. To this day I don’t know why she did it.” At this Bucky couldn’t help but scoff, which made Steve glare at him. “Come on Stevie, you know why she did. She saw a skinny Irish kid getting his ass whooped by a guy twice his size. A kid she knew had magic potential and thought he’d be full of vitriol and vengeance. No matter how good she was afterward, she started off looking for a pawn; a weapon. And when she realized you weren’t gonna be it she took off and took up with Rumlow.” Bucky knew it was a bad idea to bring up his thoughts, especially with how Steve was feeling, but he couldn’t help it. No matter how much good Rowena had done. For Steve, for him, or even the world; he wasn’t about to forgive her for trying to turn Steve into her stooge. Instead of getting angry though Steve sighed and nodded. “You’re right Buck. I know you are. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Steve said before turning back to Castiel and Dean, “It was about a year after my mom died that this happened. Skipping over hows and boring bits, Rowena started teaching me. She taught me to harness my power, how to use herbs and crystals, and dozens of other forms of magic. With magic and her teachings, I was able to cure my ailments, make myself healthy. I mean I couldn’t show it too much. Everyone in our neighborhood knew I was the sickly Rogers boy, a stiff wind would know him over. With Bucky and I barely making ends meet, there was no way we were leaving. It was then that Rowena started trying to teach me darker stuff. How to manipulate people, how to hurt people; hexes and curses. Like Buck said, when I rebelled, we parted ways. And she found another apprentice.” Steve stopped here, too choked up to go on so Bucky squeezed his hand and took up the story. “We knew Rumlow in that we knew who he was and what the neighborhood knew. He was a dropout. His mom died young and his dad, when he wasn’t beating the snot out of him, was drinking himself to death. When Rowena dropped Steve it didn’t take her long to find Brock, and he took to Rowena’s darker teachings real fast. A few months after she started teaching him, his dad died and Brock was swimming in cash. But he didn’t stop there. People from all over the borough started coming up missing or dead. Usually in mysterious and brutal circumstances. By early 39’ Brock had turned himself into a kind of gangster. He started calling himself Crossbones and Rowena was by his side. But then...later that year something happened. We don’t know what. Rowena wouldn’t tell us, but one night she showed up on our doorstep all roughed up and asking Steve for help. The most we can figure is that Rumlow got too dark for her. She actually seemed afraid of him. And never one to back down from a fight,

especially when someone he loved was involved. Steve helped. Together the two of them but a bind on Rumlow. Couldn’t take his powers away completely, but they weakened him. After that Rumlow took off and Rowena left shortly after. She left us a note saying she owed us one and that was it.” After Bucky finished they all…sat there, each of them lost in their own thoughts. “Is that the last time you saw her?” Dean asked after a bit and Bucky felt his stomach clench. He was hoping not to go any further. Steve looked over at him and raised his eyebrows, a silent question on whether to share the information. After a moment of thinking it over, he nodded at Steve to go ahead. They might as well get it all out in the open. “No, it wasn’t. We saw her again in 45’ when she saved Bucky’s life. Buck ended up getting drafted into the army in World War 2, and I used my magic to follow him in.” Bucky couldn’t help but interrupt here. "When everyone with any sense would've been thankful to avoid hell... This little Punk gave himself a ticket into the line of fire. He put on a glamour that made him look like an army recruiter's wet dream. Blonde and blue-eyed, built like a brick shit house He was the ideal man for both sides.” Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t still a bit annoyed at Steve’s choice to follow him into the war and he knew that it showed in his voice. “Buck,” Steve quietly offered, “You know I couldn’t let you go alone, without me. I would have lost my mind, worrying and waiting, never knowing where you were or how you were doing. You would have done the same if the roles were reversed.” Bucky, aware of his audience, grumbled in return and squeeze Stevie’s hand. “To make a long story short,” Steve went on, “Bucky and I ended up as part of a team called the Howling Commandos. They tasked us with eliminating a Nazi sect called Hydra. They were Hitlers' occult and fringe science division. They were kept out of the history books because of the atrocities they committed. Buck and I and some of our teammates end up on a train in Austria, tasked with catching a Hydra asset named Zola. We got a surprise when we boarded. Rumlow was there. Turns out when he left Brooklyn he took off to Germany, he had family there. We figured he must have used what was left of his powers to get himself into Hydra. I'm sure he was looking for a way to undo the bind Rowena and I put on him. During the ensuing firefight, Brock ended up putting several rounds in Buck's left arm. I snapped and…”Steve choked up here and Bucky took over. “Stevie lashed out, tried to take Rumlow out. Rumlow deflected Steve’s burst of energy and ripped a hole in the side of the train car. Rumlow ended up tossing the two of us out with his magic, but not before I grabbed him by his throat and pulled him with us. I dunno how he survived but Steve managed to protect us as we tumbled down the mountainside. We ended up crashing into the river and washing up in the woods. After that…things get fuzzy for me.” Bucky finished and looked to Steve. Steve, who has composed himself while Bucky was talking, picked up the tale. “Bucky’s arm was a mess. I had used a lot of energy, on the train, keeping us alive in the fall. I didn’t have the energy to heal it. But I could…stop it…I don’t even know how I did it but I just froze the limb. He couldn’t move it but it wasn’t bleeding either. We slogged through these Austrian woods, in the middle of winter. I couldn’t use any more magic without hurting Buck’s arm so we nearly froze to death. We managed to find this ramshackle cabin. It was barely standing but the inside was free of snow and mostly dry. There was some furniture that I managed to make a fire out of and once we were halfway warm and dry I turned back to Buck’s arm. It was worse than I thought. Rumlow had hexed the bullets, they were poisoning him. I took them out but the damage was done. I couldn’t undo the hex or heal the wounds. So I did the only thing I could think of. I sent out a distress signal.” “You cashed in your favor from Rowena?” Castiel asked and

Steve nodded. “I didn’t expect her to answer, but she did. She showed up, wrapped in a black cloak, in the middle of the night. She couldn’t undo the hex but she healed the wounds and was able to isolate the hex so it couldn’t spread.” Steve finished. They were all quiet for a moment but eventually, Bucky saw the look on Dean’s face and knew what was coming. “How did she isolate it?” He asked, curious. Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to answer. Instead, he squeezed his hand before letting it go and standing up. He pulled his leather gloves off before pulling off his black leather jacket. He flexed his fingers as the black and gold metal of his arm was revealed and heard both Dean and Castiel gasp. “Rowena took the guns we had with us and a couple of hunting knives left in the cabin and fused the metal to my arm, to the flesh and bones. The hex could only affect living tissue. The metal keeps it contained, dormant.” Bucky explained, falling back into his chair. “Can you feel with it?” Castiel questioned. “Not with the first one,” Bucky raised his arm, rolling his wrist and flexing his fingers, “It was iron, steel, and lead. I could feel pressure but that was it. But a couple of decades ago Steve and I were in Africa, hunting down Rumlow. Again. He had been collecting artifacts with occult powers. Trying to amass power and undo his bind. One of the artifacts was a statuette of a panther rumored to have healing powers. When we got to him he took off, but not before setting the place on fire. Steve and I tried to save the artifacts, to return them, but when I grabbed the statuette it shattered. It stripped the metals out of my arm and replaced them. It hurt like a bitch, I ended up blacking out. When I came to I could feel things for the first time in decades. It contains the hex and even boosts my strength in this arm. It’s nice. Unlike the first one, Steve can glamour it. The iron in the old one repelled magic, so in warm weather, I can wear short sleeves.” Bucky smiled at his arm as he spoke. At first, he had hated it. It had been a reminder of something ugly, tragic. But over time he had come to see it as a blessing. Steve’s magic slowed his aging, and Steve used it to slow his as well, but the hex could have taken him away from Steve. Left him to face possible centuries alone. His first arm had been a reminder of Rowena. The way he felt watching her back in the day, the sharped-eyed way she doted and fawned on Steve. The way she tried to manipulate him. He knew that Stevie wouldn’t fall for it, would see through her BS, but it still terrified him. His current arm, affectionately called the Black Panther, was much better. When he looked at it he didn’t think about Rowena, he didn’t even think about Rumlow. He thought of how he could finally feel Steve with it when they touched. “I do not recognize the metal, it is not from this planet.” Castiel’s statement pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned his attention to the angel. “Yea, the history we dug up mentioned it was believed to have been forged from a meteorite. But it was never tested. We always figured that it was some sort of silver or titanium since it didn’t block magic.” Bucky replied but Castiel shook his head. “No, it is not silver. Or titanium. Or any other metal that exists on this planet,” Castiel stood up and moved to stand in front of him, “May I?” He asked, holding out a hand. Bucky cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at the angel for a moment before putting his hand in Castiels. Castiel’s hand was warm and rough and the touch sent a tingle through him. As Castiel’s eyes started to glow an icy blue the tingle intensified into a burn. Not an unpleasant one but still a strong heat. “On Earth, I cannot see the whole of creation but I can tell you that this metal is rare and precious. It doesn’t exist in this solar system. I can feel its vibration though, beyond Pluto.” Castiel blinked and his eyes returned to normal and he let go of Bucky’s hand before sitting back on the bed next to Dean. “Is it, is it still holding the hex?” Steve

asked, worry in his voice. Bucky knew Steve worried. He still, after all this time, checked to make sure that the hex was contained. “Yes, in fact, it seems to be actively weakening the hex. Gnawing away at it bit by bit. I would say in a few more decades, should he live that long, the hex will be completely gone.” Castiel told them and Bucky felt as though a weight had melted from his shoulders. Steve’s checks always showed that the hex was nulled, but never that it was weakening. “Wow…that’s…that is amazing. I never detected that.” Steve’s smile as he spoke was beautiful. Once more the four of them fell into silence. Unlike before there was no charge of unasked and unanswered questions. No weight of unsaid accusations and silent suspicions. It was a calm, peaceful kind of quiet. As much as Bucky hated to admit it he felt like he could end up like the pair sitting across from them. “Well, I dunno about anyone else but I’m starving,” Dean spoke up after a bit, “Burgers, beer, and pie; you guys want in?” Dean offered with a smile and Bucky smiled in return. “Hell yes,” Bucky replied, “There is a diner downtown that serves the best pecan pie I’ve ever had, except for Steve’s mom.” Dean’s eye lit up and Bucky heard Stevie groan. “Oh god, there’s two of them.” Steve rested his head in his hand and Castiel laughed. “Dean is very devoted to pie.” The angel teased. “You gonna show me or are we all gonna go?” Dean asked and Bucky looked to Steve. “I’d rather stay here if it’s ok with you guys. Brenda is working tonight and despite knowing Bucky and I are together she still flirts with him. A lot and blatantly.” Steve offered. “She really does. We’ve talked to her about it but...she still does it.” Bucky agreed. “You two go, I’ll wait here with Steve.” Cas told them and Bucky grabbed his jacket and gloves. “Hey, you gonna let me drive that pretty baby out there?” Bucky asked as he and Dean left. “Man, I don’t let my brother drive my Baby.” Dean replied and Bucky laughed. *** “Well, I think it is safe to say that those two are going to be very good friends.” Castiel said as Bucky and Dean left. “I’m glad for that, honestly it’s been hard for Buck to make connections after all these years. We tend to avoid magical and supernatural circles. And we usually can’t stay in one place more than a decade before people realize we’re not aging as we should.” Steve replied with a smile. “What about the use of glamours?” Cas asked and Steve shrugged. “Glamours are nitpicky magic. Static ones like Buck’s arm are easy. Cast it and forget it. One that ages us would need reapplying and tailoring every few days to a week. I honestly don’t know if I have that much patience or attention to detail.” “Might I ask what happened after Rowena healed his arm?” Cas asked after a moment. “Rowena left after she made sure Bucky was gonna be ok. After that, we started making our way back to civilization. Too many people saw us fall out of the train so there was no way we could go back. There was no way to explain how we survived. My lashing out and the car ripping open could be put off as munitions explosion. Not to mention there was no way to hide Buck's arm. So we worked on the sidelines of the war when and where we could. Helping from the shadows. When it was over we traveled. We’d run into Rumlow every few years. I dunno if it was fate or happenstance. Eventually, we came back to the states and just…more of the same. The Army declared us KIA, we found out when we got back, but I used magic to create new socials for us so we could keep our names.” Steve explained with a shrug. “Did you have family, Before?” Steve shrugged at Castiel’s question. “Bucky’s been my only family since my mom died. His parents...they didn’t take kindly to the two of us and stopped speaking to him after he moved in with me after she died. They didn’t know about us then, but they suspected. He had a few sisters and we kept track of them over the years. And their kids, and their kids and so on and so forth.” Steve smiled at the thought of Bucky’s great, great

etc nieces and nephews. They hadn’t met any of them in person but they kept an eye on them all, helping from the shadows when they could. “So what is the story with you and Dean,” Steve asked before Castiel could bring up another topic, “And don’t tell me your just friends. Friends, no matter how close they are, couldn’t put on as convincing a show as you two did at the graveyard.” “That...that is a very long story. Longer even than you have time for. To make it short…there has been something between Dean and me since we first met. We have been through so much together, More life and death situations than I’m willing to count. So many catastrophes and things I don’t know how to explain. We haven’t always been there for each other but we’ve always come back together. We’d never spoken of our feeling until recently and we’re…taking things slow. Figuring out how we fit together. It is…exhilarating and terrifying all at once.” Castiel blushed as he spoke and Steve smiled. “Do you love each other?” He asked and Castiel nodded. “Yes, I do not know how our relationship will progress. But I know beyond on a shadow of a doubt that we love each other and I intend to remain with him.” Cas spoke with such conviction that Steve felt it in his chest. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence and it wasn't long before Dean and Bucky returned, laden with bags of food and two six-packs. “Steve, I love our beetle but you’ve got to ride in the impala. That baby purrs and is such a smooth ride.” Bucky told him with a smile as he unpacked food. Steve smiled at Bucks enthusiasm and took the barbeque chicken and bacon sandwich and fries that he offered. For a bit the only sounds were that of eating, drinking, and Dean’s enthusiastic groans of appreciation. “So Bucky said you guys were gonna be staying around here for a bit?” Dean asked eventually once they had moved on to the pie. “Yea, it’s a nice little place. Small and quiet but pretty accepting. Buck and I haven’t had to hide being together. We’ve got a little place just outside of town. We figure we’d stay here for a few years, make sure the memory wipe and bind stay on Rumlow. I gave him a new identity and memories. He thinks he’s an orphan by the name of Frank Grillo. He’s a bartender at a local dive. He seems…happy.” Steve replied, sipping at his strawberry soda. He didn’t care for beer. “Does he really deserve that chance, after everything he’s done?” Dean asked and Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. I know he’s done horrible things. More than I care to admit. But I’m not an executioner. So I wiped out the man that did those things and started him over. Whatever comes after this...it’s out of my hands.” “I guess I can understand that. If you guys ever need something, you can give us a call.” Dean offered and Steve smiled. “So we’re good?” Steve asked and Dean nodded. “Yea, we’re good.” Dean said before going back to his pie. With that settled the four of them passed the afternoon and evening talking. They shared stories and histories and just enjoyed each other company. As the evening grew late though Steve and Buck decided to take their leave. “Cas and I will probably stick around for a few more days. Our drive home is twelve hours so it’ll be nice to take some time and relax. If you guys wanna meet up before we take off it’d be nice.” Dean offered both of them a card with his and Castiel’s numbers. “That’s a good idea. Give me a chance to take a ride in the impala and we can show you Brock.” Steve smiled, pocketing the card. “You know, those two aren’t half bad.” Bucky told him as they walked through the hotel. “Yea, it’s nice getting to know people again. Not having to hide and worry.” Steve offered, leaning into Bucky’s side as Buck tossed an arm around his shoulders. “Yea, yea it really is.” Buck offered quietly. *** “Steve and James were quite nice. I enjoyed spending time with them.” Cas said as he helped Dean pack away the trash from their meal. “Yea, I didn’t expect to meet a friendly witch and his bodyguard on this trip. Much less one apprenticed to

Rowena.” Dean replied, storing the leftover beer in the mini-fridge. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. Do you think this could have been some sort of set-up by Rowena? Not a nefarious one, but one nonetheless. After all, both of the witches were her apprentices.” Cas offered thoughtfully. “Yea I’ve been thinking about that too. She was pretty vague about how she detected them and I dunno what kind of power she has in Hell. I mean her being conniving is pretty on-brand.” Dean answered, dropping into one of the chairs and attacking the laces on his boots. “Nor do I,” Cas replied as he pulled off his trench coat followed by his suit jacket, “Perhaps this was her way of asking for help? Steve and James did say that, when Rowena first sought their help against him, she seemed afraid. Perhaps she detected what Rumlow was doing and realized Steve was in the area? Perhaps she asked us to look into things for fear of his safety.” “I could see that. Steve’s memories of her might be rose-colored but it does sound like she cared about him. And if this guy was calling up and binding witch spirits he had to still be pretty powerful despite the bind.” Dean replied, stretched back in the chair. By this time he had cast off his denim overshirt and socks, leaving him his black T-shirt and jeans. Though one could say the same for him, Castiel had never understood the Winchester compulsion to layer. Especially in warmer weather. It was always a treat to see them, Dean especially, dressed lighter. Castiel enjoy the soft and settled look it gave him. They let the conversation drop and went about their nightly routines. Castiel, being fully powered once more, could have cleaned himself and changed his clothes with his grace. But he found the mundanity of the routine settling and even enjoyable. He especially enjoyed eating, (a modification Jack had made), and hot showers. Tonight he found tooth brushing, bathing, and dressing helped ease his nerves about the night ahead. He and Dean had shared very little physical intimacy since the change in their relationship and suddenly they would be sharing a bed. Castiel doubted anything would happen but he still felt presumptuous, sitting against the headboard in a soft t-shirt and pajama bottoms, waiting for Dean to finish his shower. His nerves, and entire thought process, fizzled out though when Dean exited the bathroom. His hair stood in wet spikes that seemed to make his face appear younger. The gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants he wore made him appear incredibly soft and a little vulnerable. Castiels brain was further frozen when Dean, without hesitation, dropped to sit cross-legged in front of him. “I’m glad you came with Cas. I’m really glad you came back to us, to the bunker, to me. I dunno if I’ve told you that. If I have, it bears repeating.” Dean told him, looking him straight in the eyes but with a light blush high on his cheeks. Cas cross his own legs and scooted closer to Dean. Smiling, he reached out and took Dean's hands in his. “You have told me that, but I do enjoy hearing it. Even before…us…before I realized my feelings…I would have preferred to be here, with you. Doing good and helping people in real, tangible ways. Spending time with you. And Sam and the others. But mostly you.” Cas confessed quietly. His words made Dean blush a bit more and look down at their hands. Under other circumstances, he might have felt bad about making Dean embarrassed or uncomfortable but it seemed to be a night for heartfelt confessions. They were quiet for a moment, Castiel passed the time counting the freckles on Dean’s face as Dean studied their hands, before Dean looked up at him. “I want you to know that I am serious about this Cas. About us. I know sometimes it might not seem like it, but that’s cause this is new to me. I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And even though I’ve always been attracted to guys I’ve never been with one…and I know you’re not a dude on the inside…but your vessel; your body, is. And I like both the inside and outside.” Dean spoke very seriously

and Cas took the words to heart. “I understand Dean. I’ve known you long enough to know that intimacy can be hard for you. It is unfamiliar for me as well. I am happy to take things slow and easy. We can start small, go on dates or day trips together. You’ve seen much of the country, and I the world, but it would be nice to visit things from a new perspective.” Cas offered and Dean smiled and nodded. “A couple's perspective,” Dean chuckled and Cas joined him, “There's a theatre here in town, a little bowling alley too. Maybe we take a few days extra to try out those dates.” Dean spoke after a moment. “I’d like that very much, Dean.” Cas offered and Dean once more nodded. “Yea, Me too.” Castiel didn’t know who moved first but suddenly they were leaning toward one another, heads tilted and eyes closed. As his lips met Deans for the first time he was distantly aware of the hotel losing power as stars and galaxies erupted behind his eyes and heat pulled in his chest.

#SPN #Supernatural #Destiel #deancas #Castiel #Dean Winchester #MCU #Marvel comics #Stucky #Steve ROgers #James Bucky Barnes #My fics #My work #Destiel fic #Stucky fic

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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Home Bound (Part 2)

Summary: With some help from Samson, Dean makes it back to the bunker and starts to process everything that’s happened...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Morning,” said Sam as I groggily sat up. He was cooking in the kitchen, humming a happy tune to himself.

“God, it’s barely seven in the morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I’ve already been up for an hour,” he said. “Eggs?”

“If you’re offering,” I said, stumbling over to his bathroom. I changed back into my clothes, yawning as I sat down at the table. He put down a cup of coffee and plate of scrambled eggs along with some hot sauce.

“You got any money to get by?” he asked, standing at his counter eating.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, wolfing down my food.

“Here,” he said, pushing an envelope towards me. I leaned over and grabbed it, opening it up to find a wad of money. “It’s about five hundred. S’all I got laying around the house. That enough to get you home?”

“Samson I can’t accept this,” I said, putting the envelope back.

“I wasn’t really asking,” he said, setting it down on the table next to me. “I’d let you take my car but I need it for work.”

“Sam, it doesn’t look like you got much. I’m not taking your life savings,” I said.

“I have a bank account, jackass. It’s not my savings. Don’t worry about it. Go home, take care of what needs to be done and yourself. You’re getting closer to popping. Pay it forward some day,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, drinking down the last of my coffee. I tucked the envelope in my pocket and he set his mug down.

“I’ll drive you to the bus station,” he said. I put on my boots by the front door as he rummaged around in a closet. He pulled out a black winter coat and held it out to me. “For if you decide you need a walk again.”

“Write down your address,” I said, handing him back the envelope.

“Alright. I don’t want any money or the jacket back. Send me a Christmas card or something,” he said. He returned it after a moment and grabbed his keys as I slipped into the coat. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks man.”

“S’no problem. Let’s get you home.”

36 Hours Later

My hands were shoved in the fleece lined pockets as I walked up the dirt road to the bunker. The ice storm in Colorado had followed me all the way back to Kansas but the hooded winter coat made all the difference in the world. I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and curl up in bed with one of Y/N’s blankets.

What happened after...I wasn’t going to be able to put off later for much longer. Now that I was home though, I could let go and get my head on straight in the morning to figure out what had happened.

With a deep breath I stepped down to the door and opened it up. The heat had been left on and the hallway was cozy. I stepped through to the other door inside and found the lights were on too, exactly as they were when we’d all headed out. Just in case, Y/N said. She didn’t want to come home to a dark house.

I headed down the stairs and cut into the library, the space feeling far too big for just me.

“I miss you,” I said. I pinched my nose and heard a creak behind me. I spun around, eyes wide.

“Dean?” said Sam. My Sam, the one that must have died, must have, was right there, in pajamas and with a bowl of chips in his hand.

“I die and now you eat the crap, Sammy?” I said. He set the bowl down and rushed over, giving me a hug. “I’m getting you all wet.”

“Don’t care,” he said. He squeezed me hard and I let out a tiny gasp, Sam giving me some room after that. He looked confused though and shook his head. “How…”

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said.

“I didn’t die. You pushed me out of the way,” he said.

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “You were right there. Since I woke up I assumed…”

Sam was smiling at me still but the hunter in him finally kicked in. I nodded to the cabinet where everything he’d need to test me was. Three minutes later he was hugging me too hard again.

“Relax, Sammy. Gonna pop my shoulder back out,” I said. He immediately released me and I cradled my arm. “I fixed it already.”

“Still. You should wear the sling Y/N bought,” he said. We wandered over to the infirmary and he dug around in a drawer until he pulled it out.

“Is she…” I said, taking off my jackets and slipping it on over my head. Sam shook his head and I sighed. “You don’t know that for sure. Up until five minutes ago you thought I was dead too.”

“True but, you know,” he said. I nodded, staring at the floor. “Cas is alright. Billie got him back from the empty. He’s up in heaven trying to help keep that going. They’re trying out this new method or something.”

“Not your memories?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.

“No. I mean kinda. More like, collective afterlife? It uses a lot less power I guess,” said Sam. “They’re doing small test groups right now he said. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“How’s he alive again?” I asked.

“Billie brought him back,” he said as we walked over to the kitchen.

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s doing okay. He got pretty hurt during the fight. I took care of him for a few weeks before he headed out. New God and all. He’s still learning.”

“He bring me back?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know how to do that yet. He says he feels like he will be able to someday, like it’s in his bones but he doesn’t know quite right now how to pull it off,” said Sam.

“So how am I back?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said. I took a seat at the table, catching Y/N’s mug sat at the end in her usual spot. “We gave you guys a hunter’s funeral. There’s a little marker up in the woods a ways, in that clearing you two used to go have dates in.”

“There’s no body then.”

“No. Where’d you wake up?” he asked, taking two beers out of the fridge.

“Middle of nowhere Colorado,” I said. “Any idea why?”

“No, not really. Any place we ever hunt?”

“No. I met a guy. Samson, apparently dad and I saved his folks back in the day while you were at school. But they didn’t live there. I never...I never met the guy,” I said. “He knew who I was but he’d never met me.”

“You think he was lying?”

“He was nice to me when I was an ass. I don’t think he was playing at anything. How would he know what I looked like though?”

“It’s possible I suppose that he reached out to other hunters and learned more about you? I mean the girls got pictures of us. Maybe Eileen?”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Shit, Sam. How’s-”

“She’s good,” said Sam with a small smile. “She’s over in Lawrence at the moment actually. She’s looking at houses for us.”

“You guys deserve to finally be together,” I said. “She’s good for you.”

“I know.”

“Gonna stop hunting?”

“I don’t really need to anymore. We kind of turned them all human,” said Sam. I cocked my head and he shrugged. “The hail mary? It worked. No more monsters.”

“That’s great,” I said, forcing a smile. Great. I couldn’t even bury myself in hunting to feel slightly less crappy. I was worthless.

“I’m heading out to meet Eileen in a few days. Come with me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude or-”

“You can have some space but you’re not staying here alone,” he said.

“Y/N’s dead. I have no job now. I’m not gonna be the brooding mope sitting at the end of your couch when you finally get to be with your girl.”

“Dean,” said Sam as I stood up.

“I really want to shower and sleep, Sammy. I’m cold and exhausted. Please,” I said.

“You’re gonna come with,” he said. I clenched my fist and glared over my shoulder. “Y/N wrote you a letter for if she didn’t make it back. It’s in your room. When I thought you both...I read it in case she wanted something to be done after she was gone. You know the only thing she said? You need to go live your life. She loves you and wants you to be happy.”

“Easy for her to say. She’s not here,” I said.

“Dean. I know this is raw for you and I’ve had four months to deal you didn’t. Don’t disrespect what she wanted.”

“Oh fuck you,” I said. I stormed out, pausing around the corner. I heard him behind me and slumped my shoulders down. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he said.

“She was supposed to live, not me,” I said. “Cause she’s stronger than I am and I can’t deal with her not being in that bedroom when I go down this hall.”

“Dean. Grieve. Please. For the first time in your life, grieve properly. When you’re ready, you and me will go out to Lawrence. I’m gonna call Eileen and make sure she finds a place where you got a big room and your own bathroom and garage and all that. Until then, I’m gonna stay here. Ignore me, yell at me, whatever. I’m staying. Alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I want a pool too.”

“Dean.”

“Hot tub.”

“We’ll put one in.”

“Fine,” I said. He ruffled my hair and I headed down to the bathroom. I slipped out of my clothes, pulling out the envelope with a few hundred dollars left. “Sammy.”

“What?” he called back.

“Figure out who this guy was,” I said, holding the envelope out the door. “That’s his name and address.”

“Whiltiston,” said Sam, making a face. “You sure this is his name?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You wouldn’t know. About two months back, the Whiltiston family was in the news. National news. They’d been reunited with their daughter who was kidnapped as an infant. She was safe. The people who took her pretended to be her parents. They were real sickos. I’d hunt ‘em down if they weren’t already dead,” said Sam.

“So this guy’s her brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, there was a brother Sam I remember mentioned at the press conference. They didn’t show anyone but the dad but they were all really happy to be back together,” he said.

“Still doesn’t explain how he knows what I look like.”

“They said the girl has a sketchy memory of certain things. I mean they were bad people, Dean. It’s possible we worked her case and didn’t know?” he said.

“See if you can dig up a phone number for me too,” I said.

“Yeah. I’ll see if...you know, we’ve been in the national news before too. It’s entirely possible that one of his parents saw us on the news and told him that was you.”

“Oh. That’s...a lot more likely,” I said, frowning to myself. “Forget about it. Could you just slip in some extra cash in there for me? I’ll send it back along with the coat. The guy didn’t have much.”

“No problem. I’ll get you the phone number too. I know you’ll drive yourself nuts if you don’t know for sure.”

“Sam,” I said as he started to leave. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

“Me too. Take your shower. I’ll put out some pajamas for you.”

I nodded and shut the door, resting my head against the back of it. After a moment I went to the shower and turned the water on, forgetting about the prickly heat until my skin turned a slight pink and started to warm up. Somehow I got through with washing myself before I saw Y/N’s shampoo staring back at me in the cubby. I swallowed and picked it up, flipping open the cap and taking a deep inhale.

It took awhile and one concerned knock at the door to realize at some point I’d sat down with my knees in my chest, Y/N’s shampoo sat on the ground beside me.

“Dean? You okay? You’ve been in there for an hour,” said Sam. I buried my head down and heard the door creek open. “Dean? Answer me or I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice raw and cracking with every syllable. Sam didn’t open the door anymore but he was still there.

“Turn off the water,” he said. I reached up and hit it off, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. “You have one minute to dry off and put on a towel.”

The door shut and I forced myself to get up. I patted myself off and got a towel around my waist, trying to wash my face off before Sam saw me.

“I’m coming in,” said Sam. One look at him said more than enough and I looked away. “I told you to grieve.”

“Her freaking shampoo bottle,” I said. Sam looked over to the shower and saw it on the ground, running his hand through his hair. “Why can’t I shove it down like every other time?”

“You know why. There’s no chance of you getting her back and she wouldn’t want you to do something stupid. You loved her. You’re always gonna love her. Dean, I’ve been there with Jessica. It’s gonna fuck you up real good for a while. I thought I’d never be happy again, not like that, and then I found Eileen. It feels like the end of your life but it’s not,” he said. “It’s not going away if you shove it down so just feel it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I brushed past him and went to my room, shutting the door to change. I left it closed and sat on the edge of the bed, catching his shadow under the door. It moved away after a minute and I let out a sigh. The room smelled musty which I appreciated. It was something different to focus on.

I rolled over to Y/N’s side of the bed and saw the letter Sam had mentioned on her nightstand. I ripped it off and found it wasn’t as long as I’d expected. She probably did it last minute.

De, I love you. I’m always going to love you. I need you to try to keep loving and not shut the world out. Find some happiness again or I’m gonna haunt you like I’m your own personal Casper. Okay? You’ll get there someday. My big green flannel is in the closet if you need it. Be safe (I’ll keep an eye out for you though, promise).

My head glanced up and over to the closet, staring before I stood and opened it. At the end was her big oversized green flannel. She’d stolen so many of my clothes over the years she’d decided to get something of hers I could take for myself.

I pulled it off the hook and brought it back to bed, tugging it on before I lay back on the mattress.

It too was a little musty but there was the faint scent of her shampoo again filling the air.

“Fuck, I miss you,” I said. I shut my eyes and turned off the light, hoping exhaustion would put me to sleep quickly.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean x #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean series

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samdeancass · 4 years ago

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Vampire Life

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Enzo x reader, Dean x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Enzo, Y/N, Dean, Sam

A/N: Part 2 to Augustine

Description: Y/N hasn’t seen the Winchesters since she was turned into a vampire. Upon chance, the Winchesters end up in the same town as her and Enzo.

The scent of blood flooded your senses as you neared your prey. The closer you crept, the stronger the scent became. You felt your fangs protrude from your gums and your eyes blackened as your vampire side took over you.

Slowly you crept up behind your prey, stalking their every move, and pounced, their legs buckling underneath them. Your fangs pierced the neck and you began to suck, the metallic taste of the blood hitting the back of your throat.

"Well done, my love." You stood up and wiped the excess blood off your face before walking over to Enzo, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Not bad for a first time, eh?" You winked at Enzo before walking away from the scene, leaving him to clean up the remnants.

It has been a few weeks since you met Enzo and began your new life as a vampire. At first it was tough trying to deal with your heightened emotions and the excruciating hunger for blood, but Enzo had gotten you through it. He had been your rock through your transition and you couldn't thank him enough. Because of your previous life as a hunter, you outright refused to feed on people so Enzo had been helping you to hunt and feed on animals.

The only regret you had was leaving Sam and Dean, especially Dean. They had been part of your life for so long. You had meant to visit the boys, but you had been so caught up with adjusting to vampirism that you hadn't even called them. Secretly, you were hoping that you would bump into them, just so you could tell them how amazing your experience had been.

Sam was sitting at the library table with his fingers dancing over the laptop keys whilst Dean was rummaging through some box that he found in the storage room.

"Dean, I think I've found something." Sam turned the laptop around expecting to see Dean at the other end of the table ready to read about the new case. Instead, he was met with Dean's backside still in the air with half of his body emerged into the box.

A small smirk graced Sam's face as an idea popped into his head. He jumped up from the table and quietly walked around to Dean. He laughed quietly to himself before kicking Dean's ass, causing him to fall head first into the box.

Sam fell on the floor laughing with tears falling down his face at the sight of Dean's flailing legs above the box. "SAMMY! Get me the hell out!" Between laughs, Sam managed to muster the strength to pull him out of the box, revealing a very red-faced and frustrated Dean.

Dean shot Sam a death glare before spotting the laptop on the table and walking over to it, whacking him on the back of the head. His eyes scanned the screen and widened when he spotted some worrying words: 'bodies drained of blood'.

He looked at Sam and a silent message was sent between them. "You don't think it's Y/N, do you?" Sam shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm not sure, Dean. We don't know how Enzo has influenced her. He could have made her into a monster."

A sinking feeling filled Dean as he thought about having to kill you, his best friend. He leant on the table and banged it in frustration. "Godammit! Why does this always happen?!"

Sam patted his brother on the shoulder and began to make his way towards the Impala. "I'm sure we'll be able to sort something out with her. After all, she is our best friend." A sense of doubt was evident as Sam finished speaking. Truthfully, he didn't know how you were going to react to he and Dean rolling up and confronting you.

In the distance, you could hear a sound that you thought you would never hear again: the distinct rumble of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. You jumped up out of your seat and ran out of the diner towards the sound, leaving Enzo sitting alone and confused.

When the Impala rolled up outside of the diner, heightened excitement coarsed through your body. You had a feeling that the Winchesters would be in town due to the number of dead bodies that have been found, but you never thought that they would arrive so soon. Usually they waited a little while to gather as much information as they could about a case before they headed out.

Sam got out of the car first and walked over to you, a shocked expression on his face. He picked you up in his arms and twirled you around, placing a small kiss on the top of your head. Dean, on the other hand, didn't seem so pleased to see you. As Sam ventured into the diner, you walked towards Dean with your arms outstretched to him.

"Hey, Deanie." He looked at you and scoffed before closing the car door and walking straight inside, completely ignoring your attempt to hug him. Your eyebrows knitted in confusion at his odd behaviour before following him inside.

You took your seat next to Enzo whilst the brothers sat opposite you. You engaged in a conversation with Sam, telling him about the new exciting things about your life and how Enzo has been supporting you. Enzo took your hand and kissed it, much to Deans’ misery.

Throughout the conversation, he had kept his eyes on the both of you, especially Enzo, and looked extremely displeased when you told the brothers about drinking animal blood. The brothers looked at each other with questioning looks and excused themselves to talk outside. You pecked Enzo on the cheek and followed the Winchesters, ready to question their weird behaviour.

Stepping out of the diner, you noticed Sam and Dean huddled over the hood of the Impala having a serious conversation. You began to sneak up behind them quietly, eager to eavesdrop on their conversation. Thanks to your heightened hearing, you didn’t have to move far before you tuned in.

“Dean, if she’s drinking animal blood then it’s not her dropping the bodies. We need to talk to her and see if she knows anything.” Dean leaned closer into the Impala, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can, Sam. Seeing her with him, drinking blood. I just don’t know if I can trust her.” Sam placed his hands on Deans’ shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. “She’s still the same person, Dean. The only thing that’s changed is what she eats. Y/Ns still our best friend and nothing will ever change that. Let’s just go and talk to her.”

When both of the brothers turned around they spotted you standing in the entrance to the diner, blocking their way. You narrowed your eyes and walked towards them, slow and steady. They began to back away until the backs of their legs hit the Impala. You stopped right in front of them before pointing your finger in Deans’ chest.

“You know, Dean. You could have just asked me about what was going on, I would have told you that it wasn’t me. After all that we’ve been through together I would have thought that you’d be able to trust me, vampire or not.” You backed away before looking at Sam. “I’m willing to work with you two on this case, but when it’s over, you best get the hell out of town.”

You walked back into the diner, leaving Sam and Dean standing in shock.

Working with the Winchesters was harder than you cared to admit. You knew that Dean still harboured those feelings for you, so you could immediately sense the tension between him and Enzo. After what happened in the parking lot, you only really talked to the brothers in relation to the case. You did regret what you said to them both, but you were still a little angry that they didn’t trust you enough to ask outright what was going on.

After a little investigating, you had managed to find out the group of vampires who were dropping the bodies and decided to put together your abilities to take them out.

The drive down to the building was a quiet one. Tension was very evident in the air, especially between you and Dean. You could tell that he was sorry but due to his stubborn nature, he wouldn’t apologise to you. Both you and Enzo were sat in the back of the Impala, holding each others hands. You had told him about what had happened between you and the brothers and he was nothing but supportive of you.

Once you arrived at the destination, all 4 of you exited the Impala and made your way towards it. You didn’t know how many were in there, so you all had decided to split up: Sam with Enzo, Dean with you. It seemed logical to have vampiric strength on each side, but you would have rathered go with Sam, at least he was more understanding.

Sam and Enzo headed around the back of the building whilst you and Dean headed towards the front. Dean walked in front of you, taking his usual protective stance. He stopped at the front door and turned around, opening his mouth to speak. “Listen, Y/N....”

You placed a finger to his lips and leant your ear up to the door, listening for any signs of movement. “Not now, D. There’s about 5 of them in there. If we go now, we’ll be able to catch them off guard.” Dean moved out of the way when you opened the door and followed you inside, closing it behind him.

Sounds of scuffling already filled the room when you walked further in. Both you and Dean looked at each other before running towards the sound, only to find Sam and Enzo pinned down on the floor by 3 vampires. You readied yourself into a fighting stance and baring your fangs whilst Dean took the machete out of its case and holding it out in front of him.

“I thought you said there were 5.” Both Dean and you looked around the room for any sign of the missing vampires. You managed to tune out any background noise and tried to focus your hearing on anything out of the ordinary. You picked up on heavy breathing coming from behind you and turned around, pouncing on the vampire. Dean did the same, slashing and stabbing at the vampire.

Blood and guts covered both you and Dean once you were finished. You both turned around to rescue Sam and Enzo, only to find them standing up with the vampires hands around their necks. You growled in anger at the threatening stances whilst Dean began to storm forward towards his brother.

The vampire holding Sam dug his nails into his neck, causing blood to come to the surface. Dean stopped in his tracks, slowly raising his hands in surrender and backing away. You managed to gain Enzo’s eye contact. You could tell that he was a little worried about the situation. You nodded in an effort to calm him down and let him know that everything was going to be OK.

Slowly, you grabbed the knife that you kept in your waistband and threw it at the vampires, piercing ones shoulder. With the vampires distracted, Sam and Enzo managed to get themselves free and readied themselves for a fight, machete and fangs at the ready.

One of the vampires lunged themselves toward you, only to have their head chopped off by Dean. Dean gave you a charming smile and ran over to help his brother. You ran over to Enzo just as he ripped the vampires throat out, embracing him in a hug. You looked deep into his eyes and kissed him, pouring all of your feelings and emotions into it.

Clearing of throats is what pulled you both away from each other, a little embarrassed about the PDA. “If you’re done snogging each others faces off, we need to dispose of these bodies.” You rolled your eyes at Dean before heaving a body over your shoulder and took it outside to the back of the building to burn it.

The Winchesters didn’t stay long after ganking the vampires. You were upset to see them leaving, especially because you had unfinished business with them. Pulling them both aside tears began to travel down your cheeks, the emotions of the last few days finally showing themselves.

Sam took the lead first by wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you on the head. “We’ll see each other soon, Y/N. That is, if you still want to see us.” You nodded your head and gave him a small smile before he headed over to the Impala.

This left you and Dean standing awkwardly in front of each other. Both of you opened your mouths to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, Dean opened his arms to invite you for a hug. You walked straight into them, the familiar scent of leather and whiskey enveloping your senses. Dean pulled you away and looked down at you, winding a stray hair behind your ear.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have trusted you. I should have known that you wouldn’t have been the one killing those people. I think my emotions got the better of me and I wasn’t thinking straight.” You looked up into Deans eyes and gave him a comforting smile.

“It’s alright, Deanie. I overreacted. I should know by now how your mind thinks. It’s being a vampire, it heightens everything.” Dean stiffened at the word ‘vampire’ but soon softened when you rubbed comforting circles into his palm. “You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Dean nodded and kissed the top of your head in goodbye. He began to walk away before stopping and turning his head back. “If Enzo does anything, and I mean anything, I will grind his bones into dust before ganking him, OK?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed Dean away, smiling a little at his over-protective nature. “You’d have to get in line.” Dean laughed before waving goodbye and getting into the car. The rumble of the Impala filled the air and you watched as the car rolled off into the distance, a small tear sliding down your cheeks. “Take care my boys.”

You felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and a pair of lips attach themselves to the back of your neck. You smiled and turned yourself around in his arms, attaching your lips to his.

“Shall we take this inside, my love? Your all tense and I know a perfect way to ease it.” Enzo broke the kiss, took your hand and led you inside, ready to ease all of the frustration coursing through your body.

Tags: @akshi8278 @stellastyless

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graveyard-tales · 4 years ago

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OKay, branching on this idea, I love the idea of Cas and Dean raising Jack and falling, kinda sorta but not really, into the farm life but by complete accident. (whomp, this got longer than I intended)

Dean buys an old rundown home in rural Kansas. I mean a totally shit house But Dean has experience in construction and what he doesn’t know he can watch videos and wing it. He’s pretty good at fixing shit and he’s confident he can accomplish it. It’s a lot of work and it’s slow going but with Sam and Cas’ help, it goes smoother than he thought. Logically he knows he can probably ask Jack and the kid could snap his fingers and materialize a cool ass house but Dean want’s this to be his by his own hands.

That and now that Jack is a child, it’d feel weird asking his kind of five year old kind of son to make him a house. Especially since there would probably be slides to ride downstairs an the living room would be like a bounce house.

Cas lives with him of course, it didn’t even occur to him that Cas would live anywhere else. Doesn’t matter that he technically still has a room at the Bunker, which Sam and Elieen, despite not living there themselves, have turned it into a sort of info hub / hotel for hunters / safehouse for supernatural beings in need / auto shop for whenever Dean is in town and a hunter/friend needs a tune-up.

They kind of just not talked about the confession but they’re good. They’re great! Cas is still his best friend and Dean doesn’t have to process one of the worst moments of his life that could possibly lead to one of the best but he’s not thinking about that. Dean’s got a house to fix. And because Cas lives there, Jack lives there. Privately hey all agree it might be best anyways, for everyone to live away from all the grief and trauma that happened there.

One morning Cas mentions something about having chickens. They certainly have the space for it. He talks about a book that Jack had taken from school and how he never took the time to appreciate the variety of them. Later, out of curiosity and boredom, Dean look up chickens and finds out there are super low maintenance, plus they’d have free eggs. So he just builds a coop. Long and larger, maybe more than it needs to be and totally fenced and presents it to Cas and Jack who immediately start ordering chickens. Dean ends up having to go back and add more nesting boxes because no one could decide on which chickens to get, not to mentions the types of eggs various chickens lay.

Dean likes to pretend that he doesn’t really care about the chickens but when he goes out while they’re roaming the yard or sitting in the coop, he always has one specific chicken on his lap. He names her BBQ, Jack calls her beebee-cutie, to which Dean makes a scene of hating but calls her that whenever it’s just Dean and her.

Cas starts a garden on his own. He’s decided that he too is retired. Fuck if angels can officially retire or not but he is and he want’s a garden with fresh and pesticide-free vegetables to feed his son and no one is going to stop him. And Cas loves every second of it, the garden is his and every plant is his babies. He also grows berries. He and Dean set up a tiny little orchard with the various fruits they can grow in the area. The property already had a giant walnut in the front of the house.

Dean doesn’t even think about asking, he just gets Cas bees. He doesn’t fuck with it and it’s on the far end of the property but they’re there doing their bee business. Cas loves and tends to them with much care.

They have two little pygmy goats one day. No one in the immediate area has goats and Cas didn’t buy them so where the fuck did they come from? Dean sees the little farm picture book that Jack was reading and he has a pretty good idea after that. Cas is good at sighing like he means it and tells Dean they just have no choice but to take care of them and Dean grumbles as he spends the next several hours researching fucking goats.

They’ve technically had cats since they bought the place. Three feral cats that they can recognize and of course started feeding. One keeps it’s distance, one won’t get closer than a two feet out of reach and one just decided that they were their cat after the first hotdog was tossed.

Dean is adamant that they will not get a dog. No, it’s not because he’s afraid, shut up. Cas understands and is the one that persuades Jack into not asking for one let alone materializing it out of thin air. And that’s that until Dean comes home after driving through a torrent storm with a bundle under his coat. It’s a little mutt, one can only guess what the breed actually is but even as a puppy they know it wouldn’t get bigger. Dean goes on justifying why he has it, how he isn’t heartless and couldn’t leave it in the rain. That the moment the rain lets up he’s taking it to the pound. That by the end of the week he’ll take it to the pound. That by the end of the month he’ll have found a good home for it, yes he’s actually looking.

The dog’s name is rain and she’s Dean’s special baby girl.

Dean and Cas take turns taking and picking up Jack from school so they just assume that that they’re together. They live together so Sam and Eileen think they’re together but in secret. Everyone who meets them think that they’re together but Dean and Cas.

Dean never brought up the confession so Cas just assumes that Dean is sparing him an outright rejection.

Cas never brought it up so Dean just assumes that Cas must have changed his mind. Cas doesn’t want to fuck me??? Must have been a fluke I guess, that doesn’t make me feel terrible, nope nope nope.

Because these fuckers never talk to each other they just fall into a domestic farm-ish life with their kinda-god son. They don’t even try not to be affectionate with one another, which leaves Cas confused often. Never really voicing it but he starts to realize what they have before Dean is. Cas likes to reflect in his garden, and among his bees. He also talks to the chickens and even though they can’t talk back in a language he understands, he deems them very insightful. Looking back and examining the now, Cas realizes Dean’s feelings before Dean does. Somehow he is not surprised but annoyed he may have to be the one to make a move on his behalf.

Because of all the honey, eggs, fruits and vegetables, beyond what they can consume, jar, dry and even throw Sam’s way, Cas and Dean open a stand at the farmers market. Dean blocks Sam from mocking him because he isn’t there to buy, he is there to sell, so he retains his right to be the mocker not the mocked. He’s the eldest, Sam, it doesn’t have to make sense to be right.

Dean becomes instant friends with the elder woman to the left who makes pastries from her peaches and pecans and the lesbian couple to the right who make candles and soaps.

The old woman mentions what a cute couple they make and Dean just doesn’t respond and Cas just pointedly looks at him. Dean is starting to suspect something at this point.

The couple’s dog have puppies at some point and they offer one up to Cas and Dean and Cas accepts before Dean can refuse. And since he won’t admit he’s terrified of their huge ass dog, because he’s not, he can’t exactly argue against it because Dean technically has a dog so it’s only fair Jack can have one too.

I could literally go on and on but this post has gotten away from meeeeee. I just love this idea so much!!

#Dean Winchester #Castiel #Jack Kline #Supernatural #Idea Bank

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blackshinychevy · 4 years ago

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A/N: I was so overwhelmed with the love I received from my first oneshot, that I decided to post the prologue of my new Dean x Reader series ahead of schedule. Hope you enjoy 🖤

Prologue

Fic warnings: Smut, voyeurism, threesomes (kinda), orgies, character death, language, mentions of abuse, trauma.

(If any of these are triggers, please do not read)

Chapter warnings: Innuendo from Sam but that’s pretty much it.

WC: 500+

Loud rock music blares throughout the garage as Dean hums along to the old Zeppelin tune.

He’s been working on Baby for the last few hours and despite there not being anything wrong with his car, it was his Heaven and he could do as he pleased. No more monster hunting. No more death. Just him and his family, living out the lives they all should have had in the first place.

He looks up as Sam marches in from the hallway that connected the garage to the house, clutching two bottles of ice cold beer in his hands. “Hey.” He greets, turning the dial on the volume to a more suitable level for conversation.

“Hey, Sammy.” The older brother grins, wiping the oil from his hands on his already filthy jeans before taking the beer his brother offered.

“Dad’s finishing up with the barbecue and Mom said the food’ll be done in a minute. Find the problem?” He taller man asks, taking a seat on the work bench by the door.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Dean states, mimicking his brother’s position and sitting on the battered toolbox by the hood.

Sam laughs teasingly. “Anything to get under her hood, huh?”

“Was that a sex joke? From you? Man, Sammy. Heaven’s changed you for the better.” Dean grins at his little brother, taking as swig and sighing as the cool liquid slides down his throat. “Can you believe it, man? We’re retired. Officially. Retired.” Dean smiles in contentment, casting a glance around his garage.

Sam gives a sigh of his own, almost in disbelief at the fact. “Who’d of thought, right? But we’re also dead.” He laughs as his brother rolls his eyes.

“Semantics, Sammy. No more digging up graves, no more cheap and moldy motel rooms. And especially, no more monsters.”

Almost immediately after Dean finishes speaking, the lights flicker in the garage, plunging the room in and out of darkness.

“Dean...” Sam murmurs uneasily, and out of instinct, his hand reaches for the gun he always had strapped to his belt, growling in frustration when he realized it was no longer there. He’d stopped wearing it when he’d got there. Heaven didn’t require bullets.

Dean yanks open the bottom drawer of his toolbox, taking out two small hand guns and tossing one to his younger brother.

“Sam? Dean?” A voice calls. Both brothers turn to see Mary and John sprinting towards them down the now dark hallway of the house. Their parents barely make it to the open door before it’s suddenly slammed closed by an unseen force, a small click as the lock turns.

The bulb above them flickers back to life, before it glows so violently they’re forced to clamp their eyes closed against the aggressive brightness. There’s a loud POP as the bulb gives out and they’re once again plunged into darkness. They can hear Mary and John pounding on the door, still trying to reach their sons.

“Hello, boys.” A voice purrs. They both spin around to see a woman leaning against the back panel of the Impala with her arms folded. They can barely make her out in the poor lighting, but they can see she’s dressed head to toe in tight black clothing, and she’s regarding them with nothing short of amusement. “What was that you were saying, Dean? About no more monsters?” She grins, her eyes flashing a glowing yellow in the dark...

ARRRGGGHH!!! I did it! Prologue is posted!!

Please let me know what you thought and follow for more. Chapter 1 will be up next week along with another oneshot. I have two ready to go so please let me know if you’d like Sam or Dean. Much love xxx

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader smut #sam winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean series #dean winchester series #fic series #smut series #chaptered fic

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tearsofgrace · 4 years ago

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written for suptober day 2: earth

word count: 1700, check archive for other tags!

okay i know i said i was sorry yesterday... but. this time i’m actually sorry

The other angels never got it. Why he loved it so much.

Well really, he’d never understood it either. His home was in Heaven. His family was in Heaven. Most of his eons of life had been spent in Heaven. Even God, the father he was taught to love and worship, had been in Heaven.

But Heaven wasn’t Earth.

Heaven didn’t have mountains that jutted out from the land, reaching for the sky but never quite touching it. Heaven didn’t have wide networks of rivers, snaking across continents, cutting the land deeper and deeper and forming wide gaping canyons. Heaven didn’t have entire ecosystems of life underwater carefully balanced, able to survive with the meager sunlight provided from above.

But it wasn’t just about the astonishing natural beauty of Earth. The other angels never would have understood that anyway. Awe was such a human emotion. Angels were better suited for obedience.

What drew Castiel to Earth, over and over, were the imperfections.

The way nature never quite conformed to patterns. The way flowers sprouted up across an entire field in patches, some small and some spanning miles. The way animals that could have- should have been enemies pulled together to make a better life for both of them. The way snow fell in Spring, covering the buds of green and suffocating them.

And when humans had come along, they’d tried to explain it all. Written countless equations, established rules that couldn’t be broken, scales that measured everything. They tried over and over to make sense of the world, to reign it in and fit it into their small box of human understanding. And they failed. Every single time.

And maybe that’s what fascinated Cas. Because he would never be able to understand it, to explain it, even with millions of years of experience, of divine understanding.

He loved the imperfections. The complexity. The systems that had taken on a life of their own after their creator left them.

But he loved humanity too. Long before humanity had become a very narrow word in his mind, he loved to watch people struggle to fit into the world. To watch them try and define themselves, to define others. He loved to watch them fall in love, to watch their hearts break, to watch them be lifted up and dragged back down just as quickly.

For millions of years, he thought that would be another thing he would never understand. The range of human emotion. The depth to which they can feel.

And then he’d met Dean Winchester. Or maybe met is too weak a word. He’d raised Dean Winchester from the infernos of damnation and painstakingly rearranged every atom in his body to its perfect form.

But that wasn’t what changed him. It was watching Dean. Watching him choose others over and over, watching him selflessly defend the world, watching him refuse to be controlled by the whims of those in power.

That’s what taught Cas to feel.

It was strange, at first. To be on a mission, and feel his heart crying out, yearning to be with someone else. To see an innocent lifeless before him and feel a stab of guilt, of pain for a human he had never met. To feel conflicted when he was given an order, not just confused and full of doubt as he always had been, but torn, broken, afraid to go through with what was being asked of him.

He grew to love it though. To love the joy, the elation, the swell in his breast when he looked at something beautiful. But even more he learned to love the pain, the heartbreak, the feeling of being totally alone in the world. Because they taught him. They taught him that just like Earth, humanity was not perfect, yet he loved it all the same. He fell for it- no, for him, all the same.

And now he had to leave.

It wasn’t that he feared death. He was no great loss to this world. The Winchesters, of course, would be upset. But they would move on, in time. But everyone else… they would see Castiel’s death as a triumph for Earth.

So he wasn’t afraid, not of what he would leave behind. But he wanted to stay. As selfish as it was, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted more time to roam the Earth, to discover places no man had ever set foot before, to watch the seasons change, and people change with them.

He’d known, when he made the deal, that he’d be taken. He had not known it would be so soon.

Even crouched behind Dean’s bed, both of them breathing heavily as the knocks on the door grew louder, he didn’t know why the time was now. Because he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t exactly unhappy, but there would always be that one thing, the unspoken thing that would keep him from true happiness.

And he was okay with it. He didn’t expect it. The unlikeliness of it ever happening was the reason he’d ever made the deal.

“Cas,” Dean breathed quietly, clutching his side and breathing quietly. “Are you- I mean, why is it here now? I thought you said-”

“The deal was I could live until I was truly happy,” Cas said tiredly. The last 24 hours had not been kind. He’d told the Winchester’s about his deal, which resulted in anger from Sam and numbness then tears from Dean. Which wasn’t quite how he thought it would go. But regardless, it was with heavy hearts they had all gone to bed, only to be woken by a cosmic entity a few hours later.

“And, you’re still not…” Dean trailed off. That had been the part Dean got caught up on. Not that he’d made a deal, or sacrificed himself, or had stopped the Shadow from taking Jack, but that he wasn’t happy.

“No, Dean,” Cas said quietly.

“Dammit, Cas.” There it was. That spark of anger. Dean lashing out because he didn’t know exactly what he was feeling. But there wasn’t any of the usual fire behind it, he just sounded tired.

“I’m not going to let it take you.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

“I’m serious, man. We can’t do this without you.”

And Cas almost laughed at that one. Of course they could. He wasn’t a necessary part of this team. His being part of it, even his desire to stay in this world, it was all selfish. He wanted to stay because he loved it, not because they loved him.

“Yes, you can.”

“Will you shut up? Look, Cas, I,” Dean took a deep breath, “I know you think of me and Sam as brothers…” Dean trailed off and Cas looked at his hands. If only it were that simple. “And I want you to know we care about you too, even if we don’t say it enough. But,” he hesitated again and Cas looked up in concern. Maybe the wound in Dean’s side was worse than he thought. Dean readjusted himself against the bed and started again. “But I cannot let you die without telling you.”

Cas barely registered the words, looking closely at Dean’s wound and resting his hand next to it to try and sense the severity with his grace. It was fading every day, but he was enough in tune with Dean that he could normally get a read on him fairly quickly.

“I love you,” Dean blurted.

The world stopped spinning. Maybe somewhere, far across the earth, someone was still breathing, still talking, still grieving, still rejoicing, still living. But in the tiny bedroom deep within the bunker, nothing moved. Dean’s steady breathing froze, Cas’ hand on his side came to a standstill, the knocking on the door went soft.

Then everything was in motion again. The knocking more insistent, pounding through the wood, the beginnings of splinters starting to form.

“I love you,” Dean repeated quietly. “And I know you don’t feel the same. But I can’t let you die- die again, without you knowing.”

And that’s when Cas felt it. More strongly than any emotion he’d ever felt, coursing through his whole body and making his lips turn up in spite of, well, everything. Happiness. Pure, simple, real happiness.

For once, he didn’t think.

He just pulled Dean toward him, tilting his chin up as he did. In his eyes, he saw nothing but trust.

Then he kissed him softly, reaching up his hand bloodied from Dean’s side to grip his shoulder. Dean melted into him immediately, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Cas squeezed him tighter, afraid to let go, afraid of what it would mean.

When he finally pulled away, he looked into Dean’s dazed eyes and smiled softly. “I love you too, Dean.”

Before the hunter had a chance to respond, the door came crashing open and Billie--no, the Shadow--came walking in.

The smile on her face was completely empty. There was absolutely nothing behind it. No anger, no malice, no joy, no mirth just… nothingness.

“It’s time, Castiel,” she said, and her voice sent shivers up Cas’ spine.

He peeled his hand off Dean’s shoulder, ignoring the bloody mark it left behind, and stood to face her. “I know.”

Dean stumbled to his feet next him. “No. Hell, no, Cas I said you were staying and you’re staying if you think I’m gonna fucking let you walk away after-”

“I made a deal, Dean.”

“So what? You aren’t gonna fight? You’re just gonna give in. Bullshit, Cas.” Dean’s voice was rising in anger, but tears were glistening in his eyes and they were wide with pain, with emotion.

Cas reached forward, wiping a tear from his face, almost letting his resolve weaken when Dean immediately leaned into his hand, desperate for contact, and then turned to face the Shadow.

She took him by the shoulders, and for a minute, he saw it all. He saw stretches of open plain, vast cities rising from the ground, a ladybug walking delicately over a strand of grass, a man picking up another man’s dropped papers, smiling at him, a wave crashing on a rocky shore. He saw Earth.

And then all of it faded from his vision and he was left with only one picture, crystal clear.

Dean Winchester, eyes widened in fear, a bloody handprint on his shoulder, reaching out desperately to save him, to raise him from eternal emptiness. He looked helpless, broken, lost. Cas wanted to run to him, to kiss him and say everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t. Earth didn’t need him anymore. Dean’s face filled his mind and he sobbed.

Then he blinked. And everything went black.

tag list [ask to be added or removed!]:

@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @witchyanaels @starlightcastiel @chaoticdean @larryforeveralways @starclaire @flowersforcas @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas @prayedtoyou @good-things-do-happen-dean @jayus-fandom-writer @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @gmotheemo @starrynightdeancas

#suptober20 #destiel ficlet #destiel oneshot #supernatural #spn fanfic #destiel angst #angst #bloody handprint #hurt #major character death #my writing

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casentines · 4 years ago

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Electric Love

Candy, she’s sweet like candy in my veins

It was Halloween. The first Halloween without Cas. Dean remembered the first Halloween with Cas. They were hunting some witch or something to try and stop the seals from breaking. Cas had stopped Uriel from nuking the town. That was the first time Cas had opened up to him.

Dean had to stop thinking about those memories. If he kept going he wouldn’t be able to stop. He just wanted-

“Hey it’s Halloween!” Sam said cheerily, walking past Dean on the way to the kitchen.

Dean didn’t say anything, just nodded his head and grunted in affirmation.

“Dude, you love Halloween, it’s like your favorite holiday.”

“So?” he didn’t want to be a part of this conversation, so he grabbed the decanter half-full of whiskey he’d given up on glasses for hours ago.

Sam reached his arm out to stop him, “Hey, are you ok?”

Dean smiled, but it was more like a grimace, “peachy. Now if you’ll let me…” he waved the bottle slightly before taking another swig.

Sam reluctantly backed off and Dean stumbled through the halls of the bunker to his room.

Baby I’m dying for another taste

Dean bit back the taste of bile as he woke up the next morning, or was it afternoon? He didn’t really care anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. He barely ate, he’d stopped tuning up Baby every week, and he certainly hadn’t been on a hunt since…

Dean reached for the bottle of whiskey he’d been nursing the night before, only to find it empty. Empty. Dean can’t even think about it. He needed to be full again. Rolling out of bed reluctantly, he traipsed to the kitchen for another bottle, hoping he wouldn't run into his brother.

“You look like shit.”

Dean had the worst luck.

“Thanks, Sammy. Really 'ppreciate the love,” he grumbled, reaching for the bottle that looked the most full.

“Dean-”

“Sammy. Just leave me alone.”

“Bu-”

Dean glared at his brother, stopping his sentence before he could say anything more. He then shuffled out of the kitchen leaving a concerned Sam in his wake.

And every night my mind is running around her

He’d stopped sleeping. What’s sleep worth if it’s only full of nightmares? Instead he was switching between drinking whiskey and coffee. He was definitely destroying his liver, but he didn’t care. Not sleeping made the nightmares stop, but not the memories on constant replay in his head.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

“I’m not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts.”

“I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did all of it for you.”

“Dean and I do share a more profound bond.”

“I always come when you call.”

“I think it’s time for me to move on.”

“I heard your prayer.”

“You changed me, Dean. I love you.”

That was the one that hurt the most. Dean never got the chance… didn’t have the time… and now it was too late. Too late to say it. He couldn’t do anything about it now. Well, that wasn’t true. He could drink. So he did.

Thunder’s getting louder and louder It was getting harder to ignore Sam. Dean started only coming out of his room when he was sure his brother was either asleep or out. The few times he miscalculated the timing, he immediately left the room with Sam shouting after him. God he was sick of it. Just… everything. He wanted things to go back to the way they were. Hell, he’d ride the hamster wheel forever if it meant he could see him, feel him, hold him again.

In search of another bottle of whiskey, Dean forgot to check if Sam was still in the bunker. He walked into the library to see his brother on his laptop, presumably working a case. Dean wasn’t even sure, was Sam still hunting? “Shit,” he swore under his breath. “Nice to finally see you, too, Dean,” Sam hardly looked up from his computer.

That was a nice change to the usual puppy dog eyes that had been greeting Dean the last few times he’d run into Sam. He almost said something, but decided to go for the whiskey first. Once he’d grabbed a few bottles he started to walk out but paused.

“Sam…?” he murmured.

His brother merely grunted and didn’t look up from his computer screen.

“Ok, you’ve been on my ass to get out for weeks, and now you’re barely acknowledging me? I don’t know if this is some reverse psychology crap to ‘fix me’ but it’s not going to work, ok Sam? I don’t care anymore.”

Sam finally glanced up from his laptop, “ok.”

“O- ok? This is the most I’ve said to you since- and all you have to say is ‘ok’?”

“Dean, what do you want me to say? You obviously don’t want to care anymore, I can’t force you. Now if you’ll let me get back,” Sam gestured to his computer screen impatiently.

Dean shrugged and walked out of the room. Halfway to his room he paused. He was certain Sam was trying to manipulate him into healing, but what if he wasn’t? What was it that he was working on so intently? Dean had to know. He set the whiskey down in the hall and headed back to his brother. He entered the library to Sam throwing his arms up in triumph.

“Yes!”

“Uh, Sammy?”

Sam startled at Dean’s voice before regaining his composure, “oh hey. I just… found out they… put in a new… vegan place in town.”

Dean was unconvinced, but went along with it because he was too tired to try and figure out what the hell his brother could be hiding from him. “Oh. That’s- that sounds like a terrible idea. Who would pay to eat rabbit food?” The joke fell flat. Probably because Dean hadn’t been sober in… he didn’t know how long.

Sam gave a wry smile. “Well I’m looking forward to it. In fact, I think I’ll go out right now.”

He quickly closed the laptop and stood up from his chair. “See you later, Dean.”

Dean was way too exhausted to figure that one out. He decided to go forget about it in his room, with his three new bottles of whiskey.

Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle/I can’t let you go now that I got it A loud crash echoed through the bunker and Dean was immediately awake and reaching for his gun. His reflexes were a little slower than usual, but he was on his feet within seconds. Slowly, he tiptoed out of his room, quickly pointing his gun down either end of the hall, before turning left. His senses were on high alert, ready to shoot at anything that moved. Eventually he approached the dungeon. He hadn’t been in there since that night, but he’d checked everywhere else. He slowly reached for the door handle, pausing for a second to tell himself that it was ok. He wouldn’t combust upon entering. He would be able to handle it. He quickly pulled the door open and- “...Cas?” “Hello Dean,” came the gruff voice he’d never thought he’d hear again. Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing in the middle of the devil’s trap, right where he’d been taken, he was here. Was it really him? Dean stood and stared at him for too long before either of them were able to make a move. It was Cas who moved first, striding across the room to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Dean melted into the hug, he thought he’d never feel this again. He soon came to his senses and did the last thing he wanted, he pushed the angel away from him. “How do I know it’s you?” Dean demanded with a hard look in his eyes. “I- I mean you could make sure I’m not a demon, but I assure you I’m here and it’s me.” “Demon, right. Holy water,” Dean glanced around the space that had previously been a lot bigger and spotted a flask of holy water on one of the shelves and unscrewed the cap. He splashed some on Cas’s face, and no response. Dean breathed a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding in. “Cas?” his voice almost broke but he couldn’t believe it. “How- how are you back? I thought…” “Dean I don’t know. All I remember is being in The Empty one second and then you were pulling a gun on me the next.” But Dean wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. The next thing either of them registered was the feeling of lips moving in tandem. “I love you too, Cas. I love you so much. You changed me. You changed me too. Of course you can have me, you idiot. Never leave me again,” Dean was mumbling against Cas’s lips and through his own tears. And all I need is to be struck by your electric love.

Hey 3:30 am how you doing? @rambleoncas

#ahh the split makes no sense #but its the only way the thing would fit #supernatural #destiel fic #15x20 coda #i barely edited this because its 3 am #sorry if it sucks :)#15 year show #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #alcohol cw #tw: alcoholism #ely im going to bed now are you happy??#I've been listening to this song on repeat for hours thanks to this btw #holy fuck it's 1500 words #grace writes stuff

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notwithd · 5 years ago

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A whole new world of music

(So, all this started because of this piece of art i made, i couldn't stop myself i just love Cellist Cas so much. so here it is this fanfic i wrote hope you enjoy it.)

Damn Sam and his stupid puppy eyes, and damn Ruby for dumping him on this exact day. Sam had planned the perfect date night; he had flowers and tickets to a concert at the city.

Dean was ready to spend the night watching Dr. Sexy and eating tons of pizza when Sam came back not even fifteen minutes later, head down and bouquet still in hand. He looked so miserable Dean couldn't take it.

"Ok, let's go," Dean grunts, getting up from the couch.

"What? To where?" Sam looks tired and confused, as he drops the flowers on the table.

"Dude, you spent like fifty bucks on those tickets! We are not letting them go to waste! I'm going with you," Dean replies.

That's why Dean is now at a fancy theatre, waiting to go into the concert hall. A girl in a tailored suit comes to them and asks Sam to show her their tickets. She then takes them into the hall and to their seats. “A friggin balcony,” Dean thinks as they take their seats that are close to the stage.

Dean looks at the crowd around him and based on first impressions, he assumes that all these people are music snobs. Every person is wearing their best garments and talking excitedly, causing Dean to feel weird and out of place. Dean is grateful that Sam insisted he dress up.

"At least put on clean pants and a decent shirt, Dean," Sam had said.

Feeling a bit insecure, Dean decides to go to the restroom to check on himself and make sure he looks presentable enough.

"I'm ok," he thinks moments later when he's inspecting his reflection. The green dress shirt he chose brings out his eyes and his hair is well combed and soft looking. "Yep, I could be wearing a damn potato sack and would still look hot as fuck," he says to himself.

Suddenly, the restroom door flies open and someone runs into a stall. Dean needs to get away because that's a sign that somebody is about to puke, and he doesn't want to be there. There's no chance for Dean to escape because the man comes out almost immediately and goes to the sink, his face a pale shade of green.

"Are you ok man?" Dean asks worried.

The man jumps, obviously startled. Apparently, he hadn't even noticed Dean in his hurry. "I'm good; I thought I was going to be sick, but it was a false alarm," he replies with a Russian accent.

The guy is extremely handsome: blue eyes, dark hair, pretty lips. He’sexactly Dean's type. He's wearing an ugly tan trench coat over a very elegant navy-blue suit. The man looks like he’s about to faint as he removes the trench coat, letting a strong muscular body show, and stares at his own face in the mirror.

"I'm about to go on stage in a few minutes. I'm just feeling pretty nervous," he tells Dean.

"Is it your first time?" Dean asks just to make conversation; he's definitely getting this guy's number.

The man shakes his head as he replies, "No, I've done this so many times, but it's always the same."

Dean feels sorry for the musician and tries to offer words of comfort. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. It’s my first time coming to this kind of concert and listening to this kind of music, if it makes you feel any better. I’m freaking out about how I look since everyone is dressed so fancy."

The guy smiles and finally looks at Dean, "Thank you; I'm sure you will love it."

They look at each other for a moment. Dean wonders if this is a good moment to make a move, but the guy jumps suddenly. "Oh fuck! I have to go." He runs to the door, but right before leaving, he turns back and says, "You look pretty good to me, since you said you were worried about it." He winks before rushing out the door.

When Dean gets back to the hall, he’s smiling like an idiot. There are at least fifty musicians getting ready on stage already. Each one of them is in their own world as they quickly check their music sheets or tune their instruments. The handsome restroom guy is nowhere to be seen.

Then Dean looks up and sees the mural painted on the roof. It is a blue sky with fluffy clouds and angels flying in between them. Some of the cherubs are playing instruments; others are just looking down with curiosity. Dean stares at the mural until Sam distracts him by handing him a program.

Dean takes it and reads:

Cello concerto in E minor. Edward Elgar

1. Adagio – Moderato

2. Lento – Allegro molto

3. Adagio

4. Allegro – Moderato – Allegro, ma non-troppo – Poco più lento – Adagio

Dean doesn't know what any of this means, but Sam seems very excited about it, so it must be good. He just hopes to not fall asleep in the middle of it or Sam is going to kill him.

Suddenly, the lights dim and the concert hall goes silent. Every musician is sitting at attention and ready to play. The director comes onto the stage and is received with applause. Dean claps a little bit and quickly looks at the program again.

“Guest director: Baltazar Vaughan,” the program reads. Dean glances at a picture of the guy and thinks he looks British and snooty.

Dean reads the next line, “Guest cellist: Castiel Novack.”

The name is followed by details of Castiel’s musical trajectory and career. There’s probably a picture on the next page, but Dean doesn't have time to read.

He looks up just as the director makes a sign with the baton and all the musicians play the same note until they sound like a single instrument. Once the orchestra is tuned, the director makes a welcoming gesture to the side of the stage and that's when Castiel Novak makes his entrance.

Dean’s eyes widen in shock as he realizes Castiel is the guy from the bathroom! He still looks a tad nervous as he thanks his welcoming applause with a little bow and a hand to the heart. Dean claps harder and Castiel looks directly at him for a second, recognition in his bright blue eyes. Castiel is breathtaking and Dean is sure he's blushing.

Castiel shakes the director’s hand and then goes to the only chair that's still empty, the one in the middle of the stage. As Castiel takes his seat, he maneuvers his large instrument into place, stroking it with love and care. The dim lights brighten and focus on Castiel, illuminating his perfect face as he takes a deep breath. He is poised and prepared to begin, and Dean has never seen a more angelic beauty.

Without warning, the bow slashes the air and Castiel starts playing strong notes. His expression is one of defiance, like he is a rebel that decided to start before the director was ready. That's clearly not the case as the director is expectant and gives the cue to the rest of the orchestra moments later. They join Castiel quietly, raising the intensity little by little as the cellist plays a low dark note that reverberates everywhere.

Dean shivers with emotion as he feels the music vibrate through his body. The mood is now sweeter but sad. Castiel stares at the roof as if he were in mid prayer, not even looking as his hand moves up and down the fingerboard. The notes produced are beautiful, and Castiel makes it seem effortless.

The music intensifies as Castiel plays a descending scale with a dramatic vibrato. The orchestra then erupts with a fortissimo which quickly dies down, so Castiel can play his desperation, slowly lowering his own sound until he goes quiet.

At this point, Dean realizes he's on the tip of his seat, leaning over the balustrade. His cheeks are on fire as Cas looks directly at him again, changing the position of his right hand to play some chords in pizzicato. Dean stares at the musician as he caresses the strings in a way that is almost romantic, and Dean feels his heart beating fast.

The rhythm becomes faster as Castiel’s blue eyes finally leave Dean’s. He gets more and more excited as his fingers move rapidly and his bow slashes the air. He wears a smug expression as if he is having a battle with the music and he is winning.

This part of the concert speeds by and soon Castiel is playing with eyes closed, biting his lip, very clearly enjoying himself. His face is red and sweaty; his previously neat black hair is now all over the place. Castiel’s the hottest damn thing Dean’s ever seen and Dean knows he’s going to die before the concert is over.

As soon as it started it finished. Now Cas has gone quiet again, the seconds without sound feel like the aftermath of war. Then Cas starts to play a melody so sad and beautiful it is painful.

The mood in the hall has changed dramatically; the orchestra dies down to pianissimo as Castiel plays what sounds like a lamentation. The bow glides smoothly, and sweet notes float through the air as the orchestra plays louder, adding drama to the soft melody.

Cas is sorrowful as he plays a high note that is both quiet and full of misery. He looks as if he's about to cry, blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

"No, no please don't cry." Dean can't stop thinking. "Angels are not supposed to fall."

Dean hears a sniffle beside him and finds Sam wiping tears with his sleeve. “Don’t say a word,” Sam mutters.

The final notes Cas plays have a trembling vibrato, as if he's about to give up. He goes quiet, head down as the echo of the last note resonates through Dean.

This silence is longer, and for a few seconds Dean thinks it is over. He wonders why nobody is clapping for this awesome performance because Cas deserves a standing ovation. "Psst, Sammy why is no one clapping?"

"Shhhh, you're not supposed to clap between movements." Sam whispers harshly.

Movements? Dean is about to check his program again when Castiel raises his head and takes a deep breath. He's not giving up, and the fight starts again.

This time Cas is fearless as he plays intricate passages full of emotion. He breaths with every phrase, and every change is accentuated by the orchestra.

Dean feels like he's watching a real angel, all greatness and elegance, but also noble and good. When the tempo slows for a little bit Castiel looks directly at Dean again. Ocean blue collides with forest green and the two men share a secret smile.

Finally, the orchestra breaks into fortissimo as Cas finishes the piece with a couple strokes and a strong victorious note.

The theatre bursts into a standing ovation, Castiel's smile is bright as he thanks everyone with a reverence. Dean is standing, clapping hard and whistling every so often. He thinks Cas’ smile is the most beautiful he's ever seen. Cas looks his way and does a little bow with a hand over his heart, like he's thanking him specifically!

"Sammy, I think I'm in love," Dean says as his heart rate kicks into overdrive.

Sam is not listening to his brother’s love declaration; he turns to Dean and hugs him hard. "Thanks for coming with me; I can't believe I almost missed this."

"I know! it was awesome!" Dean exclaims.

When he looks back to the stage, Cas is gone, and even though the ovation is extended, he doesn't come back.

Later that night, Sam and Dean are walking back to the Impala since Dean doesn't believe in valet parking. So, his baby is parked more than two blocks from the theater.

He's thinking about Cas, and how he won't see the man again. As they round the first block, they find Cas near a crappy Lincoln Continental. He's wearing his tan trench coat again, and he's putting his cello case in the back of the car. He looks like a completely normal person rather than someone who just performed in one of the best concerts Dean’s ever seen.

"Dude look, it’s Castiel Novak." Sam points at the musician, but Dean is already walking towards Cas with a purposeful stride.

"Hi, my name is Dean, and I just wanted to tell you that your performance tonight was amazing."

Cas freezes like a deer in headlights, and his cheeks turn pink when he realizes Dean is the guy he was ogling at the concert. He had been saddened when he realized at the end of the performance that Dean was accompanied by someone.

"Thank you, I'm glad you and your companion enjoyed it," Cas says carefully as he glances at Sam for a second.

Dean's a little bit distracted. Cas is even more beautiful up close, and his voice is just delicious which causes his words to take a while to reach Dean's brain.

"Wait a minute, you think he is my date?" Dean asks incredulously, pointing at Sam. "That loser? He's my brother, Sammy."

"Oh." Cas blinks in surprise. "I saw you guys hugging, and I assumed. I'm sorry."

"You're beautiful," Dean blurts. "I mean, your interpretation was beautiful."

Dean is so embarrassed; he feels he could cook an egg on his face. It is all worth it when he sees Cas’ lips spread into a beaming smile.

It turns out that a profound bond was created that night and love was found through music. It sounds like a chick flick, but it’s true.

Dean couldn't be more grateful that Ruby dumped Sam on that exact night because thanks to her, he discovered a whole new world of music and scored a date with a hot cellist.

especial thanks to my friend and beta reader @shadowywerewolfqueen you are amazing!

#Destiel #destiel fanfic #Musician AU #Cellist Cas #my writing #castiel #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #debut fanfic

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atc74 · 5 years ago

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Soul to Souls - Two

Warnings: Mentions of death, wolf hunt, Sassy OC, Guilt Ridden!Dean, so many more to come

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh (evenutally)

Word Count: 1727

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home.

Soul to Souls Master List

All in all, it took Dean three days to track and put down the werewolf with Annaleigh’s help. Her research capabilities and knowledge of the area came in handy. He talked to the Sheriff, the Game Warden, even the folks at the local animal shelter. She knew the people here, which was helpful. He had to take her along on a couple interviews with the locals, because they wouldn’t talk to Dean, but they would talk to her.

Annaleigh brought Dean to her friends’ comic book store, Betsie’s Best Comics. The manager there, Mandi, and her employee told them about their friend and owner Betsie, who was the first body found out by the creek. Mandi wouldn’t look at Dean, but Annaleigh got her to open up. She told them everything, even how Betsie had left her the store. Mandi was crying, a lot, and Dean found himself growing uncomfortable. Man, Sammy is so much better with the whole emotions thing, Dean thought to himself. Emotions weren’t Dean’s deal and he found himself grateful, more than once, that Annaleigh was with him on this one.

After they walked out of the comic book store, he looked around the main drag, feeling that familiar grumble in his stomach. “I need food,” Dean grunted, slightly irritated.

“Here,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into yet another store front. This one was different. This one smelled delicious. Dean’s eyes darted around the small shop. He eyed the pastries, donuts, cakes, cookies. And there, in the last case on the left, pie. They had cherry, pumpkin, apple, blueberry, all his personal favorites. But no pecan, story of his life.

“Hey there, Annaleigh! Who’s your super hot friend?” He heard one of the girls behind the counter giggle as she wiped her flour covered hands on a towel.

“Oh, is Anna here?” Dean heard another voice call out from somewhere, preceding another woman coming from the back. Two blondes stood behind the counter and just stared at him, eyeing him like he was one of the treats in their cases. They must have been sisters, huge matching smiles on their faces, as Annaleigh shut the door behind them.

“Hi, girls! It has been too long since I have been in here! I forgot how good it smells, and now I want something to eat!” Annaleigh practically shouted. “Oh, and this super hot guy is my friend, Dean Winchester. Dean, please meet Trista and Cora Dozier, owners of this fine establishment, Two Sisters Bakery. Best pastries in town and best pie this side of the Mississippi.”

“You had me at pie. Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Dean shook each of their hands gently as his eyes wandered back to the display case filled with pie, unconsciously licking his lips.

“What’s your poison, Dean?” Trista asked with a wink and a smile.

He smiled wide and sheepishly replied, “Cherry, please. And, apple. Oh, and a slice of blueberry and banana cream to go please. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Too much trouble? Not at all, pie is what we do!” Cora piped up from behind the counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to try my famous french silk or maybe the pecan? I just took it out of the oven and it should be ready for serving right about now,” she said, drawing it out as she glanced down at her watch.

“Hell yes!” he exclaimed, maybe a little too excited. If you asked Dean, he hadn’t had a good pie in months. He ate a decent slice weekly at least, but not truly good pie, with the perfectly flaky homemade crust. He took the plate she offered with three different flavors. Annaleigh had a slice of the french silk and they sat down at one of the small tables with their delicious treats and coffee.

Annaleigh looked at Dean again with those damn eyes. Her lashes were unbelievably long and curling up as they searched his own emerald ones. With the last fork full of apple pie halfway to his mouth, he stopped, sighed and put the fork down. “What?” he asked her.

She just giggled, like the two sisters staring at them from behind the counter, trying to look busy but failing. “I have heard so much about you from Bobby over the last few years. I feel like I know you. For example, I know you are saving the pecan for last because it is your favorite. I know that you love that damn car more than life itself. I know that you love classic rock and chick flicks...and I know that you blame yourself for Sam.”

She laid her hand over his on the table, and her eyes welled up with tears but she blinked them back and continued. “Dean,” Annaleigh hesitates, choosing her next words meticulously. She feared he would run, and she worried that she would lose him, before she had the chance to really know him.

“I-it’s not your fault. Sam made this choice. Y-you could not have stopped him.” She paused to take a breath, a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I-I don’t wanna talk about it,” Dean whispered, blinking back the burning behind his eyelids, praying the tears would stay at bay. He pulled back in an attempt to untangle his hands from hers.

“Y-you can’t bring him back. I am sorry for what happened, but you and your brother? You saved the w-world,” she wept in hushed tones, her hands clinging tightly to his, but she pushed through the emotions threatening to drown them both. “Your brother m-made the ultimate sacrifice and saved billions of innocent souls. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I, for one, am grateful. I know how hard this life can be. I lost a brother, too. And more friends than I care to count.”

She removed her hand from his and Dean immediately missed it, the softness, the warmth, the human connection, that he had been craving. Shaking his head, Dean wiped his face, knowing his emotions had betrayed him and cleared his throat before he spoke, attempting to sound stronger than he felt. His voice was barely audible as he growled. “What am I supposed to do now? You seem to know everything about me, so tell me, Red, what am I supposed to do now?”

He looked down, trying to avoid her gaze, but not entirely able to. Her eyes were blue, ocean blue, bright and sparkling, and he couldn’t keep away, like a moth to the flame. Instead of answering his questions, she stood, boxing up the remaining slices. “Come on, let’s go back to my place, away from the prying eyes of the Giggle Twins. I will explain it all to you, in time.”

Twenty minutes later, they rolled down her driveway, and Dean put Baby into park, got out and opened the back door to grab the pie. As he turned to walk toward her house, Annaleigh flung herself against him, one hand on the back of his neck, standing on her tiptoes and slowly pulling him down to her. She leaned in and closed her eyes as she gently pressed up on her toes, inching closer to him than she had been so far. She opened her eyes, lashes fluttering as she gazed upon his face.

As she pulled back, he could see her face clearly, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. She placed her hand in his, then grabbed the pie and ran off towards her massage studio at the back of her property, laughing maniacally. Dean just stood there, stunned, and shook his head, silently wondering what he had gotten himself into by agreeing to take this hunt. His body tingled from the feel of her pressed against him, as if he could still feel her softness, and smell the lingering chocolate in the air.

Dean followed after her slowly, not sure what his next move should be or even if there should be a next move. He vaguely remembered arriving three days ago, wanting to get out of this town as fast as possible after the case, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

By the time he made his way into Annaleigh’s studio, she had changed into a bright blue tank top and leggings. She was standing at the counter, pouring whiskey into two glasses, hips swaying slightly to some country music she had turned on. Dean didn’t recognize the tune, but he wasn’t totally against country music. Bobby was like a father to him, and he had played it enough that Dean had gotten used to it over the years. It wouldn’t be his first choice but then again, this wasn’t his car where he picked the music. Here, he was not the driver, so he kept his mouth shut.

Dean slid off his suit jacket and laid it on the counter behind her. He loosened his tie and walked around the small island until he was standing directly behind Annaleigh. Without thinking, he gently placed his hands on her hips and lowered himself enough so his head rested on her shoulder. With a low chuckle, Dean snaked one hand around her waist and grabbed a glass. He brought it to his lips and took a nice long drink of the warm amber liquid.

Dean glanced around the studio she had converted on her property and admired what she had done with it. It was petite, but charming, like her. There were a couple of stools around the island, a waiting area of sorts. Wandering the space, he took in the small touches that she had added, while she continued swaying and singing softly in the small kitchenette. In the back corner was a bedroom that she had converted into a massage room. Dean pushed the door open and walked inside. Candles flickered, bathing the room in a soft glow, scented lightly of flowers and fruit; subtle, but comforting.

“Take your clothes off and get on the table face down.”

Dean jumped a little as he heard her voice behind him. “I didn’t peg you as a Dom, Red. But I have to admit, I kinda like it,” he replied as he turned around and untucked his shirt, a smirk playing on his face.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @spnbaby-67 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean x annaleigh #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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kyber-kisses · 5 years ago

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She Burns

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing. . . Maybe? It’s pretty much fluff.

Summary: Dean remembers being 16 years old and meeting the reader, and how she changed his life and became his first love. . . His only love.

A/N: got this idea from the song She Burns by Foy Vance. I highly recommend listening to the song before reading, but of course you don’t have to. Please enjoy this sweet childlike innocence! (GIF credit goes to owners)

Dean didn’t know exactly what sparked the memory. Maybe it was the whiskey burning through his system- or maybe it was your laughter echoing down the hallway of the bunker. All he knew was that one moment he was living in the moment, buried in the usual research and the next? He was drowning in a sea of memories.

One specific memory was the day he had met you, all those many years ago. Long before heaven and hell were normal conversation topics and before everyone was decorated with scars, showing a long and tiring life.

Your parents had been Bobby’s neighbors. The only other hunters besides the old drunk residing in Sioux Falls. Bobby had never told him about you until one day you just causally came waltzing through his front door, waving an old tattered book around and successfully knocking one Dean Winchester off his feet.

“Bobby, I’m here to bring that book back that my dad borrowed for that Rugaru hunt!” You called, stepping into the front entrance and shutting the door firmly behind you. You paused, waiting for an answer- only to be met with silence. “Bobby!”

“He’s around here somewhere. Don’t know where specially.” A sudden voice echoed from around the corner, the sound slightly making you jump before venturing forward.

When you stepped into the front room you definitely weren’t expecting what you saw. A boy probably about your age was seated on the couch, hands bound in cuffs. Your face almost immediately turning up in confusion. The boy raised a hand, waving his fingers in your direction, sealing it with an amused smirk.

There was a pause before you opened your mouth again, calling over your shoulder. “Bobby, why is there a handcuffed teenager on your couch?”

“Cause this idjit kept poking around where he shouldn’t be.” The old hunter sighed, finally stepping into the room to join you, taking the book you passed him.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to suppress your laugh along with your grin. Even you knew that it was a bad idea to go snooping around in Bobby’s house. ”so you handcuffed him?”

“Well unlike you, I can’t drag him over to your spitfire of a mother for a scolding. So yeah, I handcuffed him.”

At this point you had to purse your lips in hopes of hiding your smile, but the boy caught on, narrowing his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

Dropping the mask, you grinned, letting out a light laugh as you spoke. “It kinda is though.”

“It’s really not.”

“Oh but it is.”

The boy rolled his eyes, shoulder dropping as he gestured to you, eyes now on Bobby. “Bobby , who is this chick?”

“Dean, This is Y/N, her parents are my neighbors. Also damn good hunters it turns out. She sometimes comes around to help out around here.” The hunter explained, throwing the returned book onto his desk.

Dean turned his gaze back to you in which you acknowledged him by mimicking his fingered wave, a cocky smirk resting on your features.

Dean knew in that moment that you weren’t going to be like other girls. And he was more than okay with that.

The day after that first meeting, Dean was surprised by your reappearance. He quickly found out that you’re pretty handy when it comes to cars and that you knew how to kill almost anything that went bump in the night. He wasn’t the type to make friends so quickly. . . Let alone make friends at all, yet there you were, turning his whole world upside down. Usually when dropped off at Bobby’s he would happily go with his dad when he came back for him, but after meeting you, Dean found it harder to walk away.

She is a little explosion of hope

Never turns the lights down low

She can go there if you want to though

There are no markings on her country roads

No signs that show the way back home

But when you get there, you won't wanna go

It was around a year later that Dean realized (with slight surprise.) that he may or may not have developed a a slight crush on the vibrant and crazy girl that was Y/N Y/L/N. Seeing that their dad wouldn’t be back for a few more days, you had dragged Sam and Dean away from Bobby’s for a few hours along with a box of fireworks your dad had gotten for you while in Indiana.

“Dean, I’m tellin you, this is gonna be fricken awesome. Do you really have so little faith in me?” You quipped, sitting crisscross on the floor of your garage, surrounded by firecrackers. Hand reaching out for the bouncy ball Sam had passed you.

“Do you know how badly this could backfire?” He grinned, folding his arms as he leaned on your dads old work bench, watching you drill a hole into the rubber ball.

“Uh duh. Why do you think I came up with it?” You paused, reaching forward for a firecracker. “Plus, Sam thinks it’s a cool idea too.”

“C’mon Dean, we never get to have fun on Fourth of July. Please?” Sam begged, giving his brother his famous doe eyes and smiling when Deans shoulder sagged in defeat.

“Fine, but we do not speak about this to dad. Ever. You got that?”

“Got it.”

It turned out to be one of the best nights of his life. Sam was happy. His dad wasn't breathing down his neck for once. He got to act his age. . . And he owed it all to you and your firecracker filled bouncy balls that had the three of you roaring with laughter as you ricocheted them around your garage, the suspense of not knowing where it would explode giving him a new sort of adrenaline. One that wasn’t fueled by monsters. Somehow you were managing to give Dean his childhood in handfuls. . . Along with Sams. And he was grateful.

I've frozen over my desires

Covered up in virgin snow

But when I stand beside her

She burns, yeah, she burns

Like petrol soaked paper and fireworks

And I'm burning, I'm burning

I'm burning so deep that just breathing hurts

I'm melting darling and I can't let go

His damn crush on you stuck like glue. He tried to shake it off. He tried telling himself he only liked you as a friend, but each and every time you would come sauntering back in and derail his entire thought process. It was especially hard during the times when you stayed at Bobby’s while your parents were hunting.

“This is gonna be so much fun! It’s gonna be like a sleepover!” You exclaimed, shifting to drape an old blanket over your shoulders, which semi protected your body from the cool of the living room due to your only pajamas being sleep shorts and an old novelty t-shirt.

It was nearly 9:00 at night and somehow you were still full of energy. Dean had no clue as to where you got it. “What are you, twelve?” He mused, a grin taking over his face as he watched you.

You swiveled your head, sending him a glare over your shoulder. “What are you, boring?”

“Woah hey, I am not boring!”

You raised an eyebrow, looking over at Sam who was perched on the other end of the couch. “Hey Sam, is your brother boring?”

“Yeah. He’s totally boring.” He stated clearly. There was no pause before his answer nor did he even glance up from his comic, the younger Winchester just quick to side with you.

“See?” You gestured at Dean. “Boring.”

“You’re delusional.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to fiddle with the dials on Bobby’s old radio, quick to find a station that actually played good music. You kept it at a reasonable volume as not to disturb Bobby who was undoubtedly working away in his study. It was only when you gave Dean your devilish grin that he knew what you were about to do.

Slightly bouncing your shoulders to the tune you held out your hands for him, raising your eyebrows.

“No. No. I am not dancing with you. Nice try though.” He laughed, seeing you roll your eyes before dancing closer to him, yanking him to his feet.

“Oh come on, I’m a great dancer.” You mused, pulling him along with you as you danced.

“I don’t think any of what you’re doing would be considered dance moves.”

Even though the whole scenario was embarrassing he was grateful that it wasn’t a slow song playing because then he really would have been a stumbling and blushing mess. It was when you started dramatically singing along to the song that he realized one very crucial thing.

All he wanted to do was kiss you.

She likes to lay under the covers, oh

Pretend that everywhere's our home

Keeps me warm right to my very soul

We get so tangled up, it's hard to know

What is hers and what my own

Vines at the bottom of an olive grove

It was only when your dad and his decided to work a job together that anything happened. Sam had stayed behind at Bobby’s while you and Dean had tagged along with your fathers, hoping to learn something new. But it ended with both of them ditching you and him at the crappy motel on main street while they went out to the nearest bar.

“Is there even a heater in this place?” Dean mused, zipping his hoodie up further as he wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to generate some warmth as he sat on the edge of the bed the two of you had been forced to share. (Not that he minded though.)

A light grin tugged on your lips as you shoved the deck of cards back into the box, dropping it down on the small table. “Stopping being a baby. It’s not that cold.”

In a matter of seconds Dean was whipping around to stare daggers into you. “You’re one to talk.” His eyes taking in your form that was wrapped completely in one of the beds comforters, part of it pulled over your head like a hood.

At that you smiled again, shuffling across the cold tile before stepping up onto the mattress and walking across it towards his shivering form. “Aw, poor baby.” You cooed, plopping down behind him before wrapping your comforter clad arms around him, pulling him backwards into your embrace.

“I’m not baby.” He grumbled, the noise muffled by the comforter making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you say, Deanie.”

In that moment Dean sent out a silent prayer of thanks for his face being concealed or you would have seen the blush creeping across his face. You were turning him into a love sick school boy.

“Alright, you asked for it.” He sighed, leaning all his weight into your arms and making you fall backwards, his torso crushing you against the bed. You let out a light oof which made him roll off you slightly, finally being able to see your face.

God. You were so pretty. So, so pretty. Sometimes he was still amazed that he was able to call you his friend. His first real friend. His only friend. His best friend.

“Whatcha lookin at?”

Damn. Had he been staring? He had been staring. “Um, nothing.”

“That’s a lie. You were looking at my lips.” You grinned, twisting the comforter around the two of you like a burrito, successfully pulling him closer to you.

“What? No! No I wasn’t!” He tried, trying to fend off the heat rising in his cheeks. “You’re crazy.”

There was a pause of silence from your end before your eyes narrowed, almost like you were trying to read him. “If I’m crazy, then I guess you won’t mind if I do this-“ and with one swift movement you closed the gap between the two of you and slammed your lips against his.

The kiss was exactly romantic like Dean hoped it would be. He hadn’t kissed anyone before and neither had you. It was a mess of teeth knocking against each other and mumbling against each others lips. But he was glad this his first kiss was with you. He didn’t want it to be with anyone else.

But when I stand beside her

She burns, yeah she burns

Like petrol soaked paper and fireworks

And I'm burning, I'm burning

I'm burning so deep that just breathing hurts

I'm melting darling and I can't let go

Dean never let you go after that. Sam eventually left for Stanford and when he did, he told you to pack your bags and go with him. You didn’t hesitate. He was your best friend. Your first love. How could you ever say no to him? And from that moment and every day after, you never left each others sides.

“Woah, Dean. Are you okay?”

Your voice snapping Dean out of his thought and back into reality. Back into the uncomfortable wooden seat of the chair in the bunkers library. Good god, he had been deep in thought.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He nodded, reaching for his glass of whiskey still slightly in the zone. “Just thinkin.”

“Oh?” You mused, perching yourself on the edge of the table and prying the drink from his hands, and taking a sip for yourself. “What about?”

“Just how you were a terrible kisser the first time we kissed.” He said plainly, tiring to shoot you a cocky grin, resulting in you lightly smacking the side of his head.

“You weren’t any better if I recall.”

It was hard to play serious around each other. You were still so childlike and Dean matched your mayhem. Sam constantly said the two of you were perfect for each other. . . And Dean wasn’t going to argue that.

A sincere smile took over his features as he looked up at you, still seeing the faint glimpses of teenage you in your eyes. “Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Dean.”

End.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #supernatural #spn x reader #young dean winchester #bi-danvers0 #bi-danvers writing

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asongofmarvelanddc · 5 years ago

Text

Defence Mechanism

PAIRING: Dean Winchester X Reader

WORD COUNT: 1549

WARNINGS: Angst, but fluffy end.

SUMMARY: Sam has to play therapist when Dean and Y/N keep having stupid arguments.

A/N: Just a dumb thing I wrote a while back. Please reblog and leave comments 💛

MASTERLIST

Sam whistled to the tune of the song he was listening to as he walked to his bedroom when he was rudely interrupted by loud yelling as he walked past the living room.

“GIVE ME THE BLOODY REMOTE!”

“SCREW YOU!”

He frowned and took two steps back before peeking his head through the door. Dean and Y/N both had their hands on their hips as they screamed at each other. The remote, which he assumed they were arguing over, was clutched tightly in Dean’s hand.

“Uhhh...What’s going on in here?” Sam asked from the doorway and both heads snapped sideways to look at him.

“Your dickwad brother won’t give me the remote so I can watch Game of Thrones!” Y/N yelled before shooting daggers at Dean with her eyes.

“I can’t watch season 7 when I haven’t finished season 6!” Dean yelled back in defence, angrily staring at Y/N.

Sam glanced between the two of them with a raised brow and slightly open mouth as they continued their argument. This was so incredibly stupid, but he knew he was going to have to resolve it before it got too messy.

“Leave then!” Y/N retorted in frustration, “No one’s begging you to be here!”

“Why should I have to leave my own living room just so you can watch a show that I like but am not caught up with???” Dean asked and raised his eyebrows. Y/N stared at him with a confused expression before shaking her head.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh, “Why can’t you ever compromise? Just once!”

Dean’s eyes widened in exasperation as he turned to Sam who simply shrugged and averted his eyes, “I always compromise!”

“Name one time.”

Dean opened his mouth to answer then closed when he realised he didn’t have anything to say. Y/N rested her weight on one leg and folded her arms across her chest. Dean turned to Sam for help, but once again, he simply shrugged.

Dean chewed on his lips as he thought for a moment before his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers and smiled.

“I clip my fingernails!” he finally said with a smug smile. Sam and Y/N shared an exhausted look before turning to Dean simultaneously, “What?”

“I don’t like clipping my fingernails,” he explained, “But I compromise and do it anyway because Y/N here likes it when I use my fingers in bed to-“

“Okay, okay,” Sam chuckled awkwardly and rested his hands on his hips, “That’s...way too much information.” He glanced at Y/N who was glaring at Dean.

“That’s a blatant lie because your nails have always been short. Even before we started dating.”

Dean smirked and shrugged, “I guess I was compromising for you and all the other hot girls that came before you.”

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath before exploding, “That’s it. Where’s my shotgun?!” She charged at Dean but Sam quickly held her back. Dean childishly stuck his tongue out at her and laughed mockingly which only enraged Y/N further. “I’m gonna shoot the fucking nails off you, dickwad!”

“Dean can you please leave?” Sam pleaded from over Y/N’s shoulder as he struggled to hold her back. She was like a little hellcat. Dean snorted and shook his head, “No. No way, why should I-”

“Get. Out.”

He rolled his eyes before sighing and throwing the remote onto the couch as he exited the room.

As soon as he was out of her sight, Y/N relaxed and Sam felt it was safe enough to let her go. She let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on the couch, “I swear to God, sometimes I really hate your brother, Sam.”

“I can understand that,” he chuckled and flopped down on the couch beside her, “Sometimes I hate him too.”

“He just makes me so mad!” she growled as she balled up her fists angrily. Sam let out a short chuckle and murmured, “No he doesn’t.”

“Um, trust me, he does,” she scoffed and folded her arms across her chest angrily.

Sam watched her stew for a moment before sighing heavily, “Okay, I’m just gonna say it: you guys have to stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“You guys make a huge deal out of nothing every time one of you has to leave for a hunt!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in offence. “We do not!” she gasped in defence.

Sam raised a brow at her, “Yeah? How about the fight last month because you used his shoe to kill a cockroach?”

Y/N scoffed and leaned back in the chair before mumbling, “That wasn’t a fight. It was a tiff if anything.”

“You didn’t speak for three days.”

“A bad tiff,”

Sam sighed once more and rolled his eyes. “Look, it just doesn’t make sense,” she argued, “Why would I want to get in a fight with Dean? I love him.”

“That’s the exact reason,” he pointed out, “You guys are so scared of losing each other, that you have dumb arguments before the other goes off to do something dangerous.”

Y/N chewed her thumbnail and listened quietly to Sam’s psychoanalysis. “You figure that if you get mad at him, it wouldn’t hurt too bad,” he explained, “And Dean’s always thought that he doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, try telling him that,” Sam sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, “He always tries to get you to hate him, just like he’s doing now.”

Y/N was silent as she mulled over what Sam had said.

“I thought you studied law, not psychology.”

Sam cracked up laughing and shook his head, “All I’m saying is, you need to talk to Dean, and face the fact that whether you guys fight or not, it would really fucking suck if one of you died.”

__________________________

Dean hesitantly walked into the living room where Y/N was sat cross-legged on the couch. He expected to find her watching her show, but instead, the TV was turned off and she was picking her fingernails.

“Hey,” he murmured as he approached the couch and stood at the end of it. She looked up at him and smiled weakly, “Hey”

“Did Sammy go full therapist on you too?” he asked with a smile as he ran a hand over the arm of the couch. She chuckled and scratched the back of her neck nervously before nodding, “Yeah, I’ve been contemplating the last few years of my life since.”

Dean laughed softly before sitting beside Y/N with a sigh. She immediately unfolded her legs and rested her head on his chest. He put an arm around her and rested his chin on her head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and pressed a kiss on her hair. She smiled and mumbled, “I’m sorry too. For the record, I never would’ve actually shot you.”

Y/N shook as Dean's body shook with laughter, “I know, baby.”

She pulled away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “I love you, Dean...But, I worry about you constantly.”

“It’s not easy for me when you go on hunts without me either,” he confessed, “I like having you by my side so I can protect you.”

“I know that, baby,” she sighed and intertwined her fingers with his before looking back up at him, “But I’m not the one who’s actually died before.”

Dean let out a heavy sigh and dropped his head again. “Every time you walk out that door, Dean...I’m terrified that that’s going to be the last time I see you,” she frowned sadly, her eyes on their hands, “That this time, you’re gonna be gone for good.”

Dean immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. She rested her head onto his chest once more as he spoke to her.

“I can’t promise you that I won’t have hunts that go wrong, or that I’ll be here forever,” he whispered to her, “You can’t promise me that either. It’s the shitty life we have to live as hunters.”

“I know that,” she murmured, “It really fucking sucks sometimes.”

Dean chuckled softly and continued talking. “What I can promise you, is that I’ll always be extra careful, so I can come back home to you,” he smiled, “Because even though I don’t deserve you, I’m a selfish guy who can’t get enough of you.”

“I really hate it when you say that.” Y/N sighed and sat up again to look at him properly. “Dean, you’ve spent practically your whole life putting everyone’s lives before your own,” she said as she stared into his eyes, “Not only do you deserve me, you deserve the world.”

Dean stared at her in complete awe before capturing her lips in an electrifying kiss, “For the record,” he mumbled breathlessly against her lips, “I love you too.” Y/N smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Suddenly, Sam’s large figure appeared in the doorway of the living room. When he realised what was happening, he let out a groan.

“Guys, please don’t have sex on the couch.”

#dean winchester #dean #dean spn #supernatural #spn #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader

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wantstoflyafraidtofall · 4 years ago

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Summary: The Christmas season was always hard for the Novak family but this year Castiel has someone to help him through it. Dean is determined to help his boyfriend, Cas, get through a holiday gathering with his family.

Read on Ao3

(Fic bellow the cut)

Families can be hard. And if Dean ‘my dad’s homophobia made me too afraid to come out of the closet even after he passed’ Winchester had one goal tonight, it is to make this as easy as the universe would allow him. Having your parents know that your a biromantic asexual and actually coming home with a boyfriend are two entirely different ballparks.

Cas had insisted that Dean should come to meet his family this Christmas. The previous years they had always gone down to Dean’s basically surrogate father’s place. Bobby was a bit rough around the edges but was all gushy at the core and welcomed Cas to the family with a smile and slap on the back(He could have sworn he heard a ‘finally!’ as well).

Ellen and Jo both gave Cas some… stern talking-to’s about what getting with Dean entails that left him a little shaken, but over the past four years of being Dean’s ‘boyfriend’ instead of ‘best friend’ has shown him worthy of Dean’s heart. Jody and Donna had been more than welcoming as well, even inviting him and Dean over for a nice dinner one night.

Sam was probably the most excited. He flew all the way from California to congratulate them in person and even got a little teared up by Dean accepting himself for who he was. He had stayed the remainder of the week and spent the whole time smiling at them and helicoptering around them to make sure it was real.

Dean has to admit, he is kinda glad they aren't spending the entire Christmas weekend at the Novak’s. He loves Cas and would do anything for him but his family gives him the creeps. It’s a good thing Cas doesn’t want to stay either. He found that the Winchester Christmases with movie nights, warm fires, and eggnog, much more enjoyable than “an uncomfortable, over formal Christmas dinner where the chairs are replaced with the sticks up their asses”, as Cas once put it.

He didn’t begin to feel the pinpricks of nervousness until they steered the impala into the gated neighborhood where Cas’s family lived. The tall borderline-mansion houses could be seen across the large well-trimmed yards, illuminated by professionally hung Christmas décor and outdoor spotlights.

“What did you say the address was again?” Dean asked, leaning toward where Cas sat next to him, fidgeting nervously.

“1574 Rosealee Court-” Cas sat forward pointing out the window at the house, “-That’s it, right there.”

Dean turned into the driveway, internally judging how they had lined the entire perimeter of the pavement with tiny white lights. He slowly rolled to a stop a little past halfway around the U of the driveway, pulling the keys out of the ignition. The silence replaced the loud rumble of the engine and quietly playing songs from the Christmas cassette Dean had gotten for Cas a few years back after discovering his love for the seasons music.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean spoke softly and slid across the bench seat to wrap an arm around Cas’s shoulder, his other hand finding Cas’s and gentle squeezing it.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” Cas was squinting up at the house and it’s artificial Christmas feel.

“Hey, look at me,” Dean waited for Cas to turn to him, his too-blue eyes shining in the bright lights, and pressed a gentle kiss on his warm lips. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to be here the whole time. Won’t even go for bathroom breaks.”

Cas smiled and Dean didn’t fight the grin that bubbled out of the warm feeling in his gut. He leaned forward and placed one more chaste peck on Cas’s lips before ushering him out of the car. Taking Cas’s hand in his, they made their way up to the door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for the blurry figure to appear in the beveled glass To let them in.

“CASSIE!” Gabriel shrilled as he opened the door, pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. Dean must have been staring because next Gabriel turns to him with a wide smirk. “Aww, Dean-o, is my baby brothers boy-toy feeling left out? Come’ere-” He pulled Dean into a bone-crushing embrace that left him a little light headed when the shorter man set him down back onto his feet.

“Gabriel, I didn’t expect you to be here.” Cas said, surprised.

“Well, I wasn’t going to come but when I heard Cassie was coming and bringing ‘his significant other’ I just had to make sure it was Dean here they were talking about. I am hurt that not once you mentioned to me that you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses and got together. I mean, I am your brother and-”

“Is that Castiel?” A voice said from behind.

Gabriel stepped back to reveal its owner, and it was no one other than Naomi Novak, Cas’s mother. She walked up to the door, shooing Gabriel to the side and gesturing for them both to come inside. She smiled when Dean looked at her but it didn’t reach her eyes and looked unnatural on her tight face.

She closed the door behind them and waited for them to strip off their coats, scanning their jeans and Henleys with an air of distaste. Naomi kept that smile plastered on her face, however, as she led them deeper into the house to what must be the family room.

There was a gas-lit fire burning in the large fireplace under the mantle where the TV hung, traditional Christmas music playing off one of those music channels. Cas led him over to the couch, adjusting the throw pillows to make the stiff furniture a little more comfortable. Gabriel strode in just as they got settled and splayed himself out on a white leather chair across from them.

“I’ll just be a moment. Your brothers are in the kitchen, I’ll go bring them out to say hello to you and…” Naomi looked over at Dean questioningly.

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” Dean said, finding it a little odd that Naomi couldn’t remember his name. He’s come over for barbeques and such as a friend before, perhaps she was doing it to piss off Cas.

“Yes, Dean.” She finished, the ugly smile twisting her lips again. “Oh! And I almost forgot to mention, your father decided to join us tonight as well, he is upstairs and will be down soon.”

He felt Cas squeeze his hand tighter and his face paled slightly at the mention of Chuck. Gabriel sent a worried glance their way as Naomi strutted off to the kitchen, satisfied with her work.

“It’s going to be ok, I’ll be right here.” Dean whispered and Cas nodded in reply.

Cas hated his father. Chuck left when he was 5, disappearing until he was almost 15. Naomi welcomed him back as if he was never gone, ignoring the fact that he was a broke alcoholic. Cas had a horrid few years till he got out of the house and to college where he met Dean.

Dean was studying to be an English teacher, Cas a writer. They had met one eventful evening when Dean rounded a corner too fast, running straight(haha yeah right) into Castiel in a fatal collision that ruined 2 cups of coffee and a shit ton of papers.

“So,” Gabriel said, attempting to clear the tension, “how long?”

“What?” Dean said, looking over to where the man was sprawled out in the chair.

“How long have you two been a pair?”

“Uhh,” Dean glanced over at Cas who shrugged. “You sure you wanna know?”

“It’s not like it's been going on for that long. Spill!”

Dean cleared his throat, “about four years now.”

“Ha nice try. For real now, how long?”

“He’s right, it’ll be five years next fall.” Cas stated.

Gabe’s jaw dropped as he looked between the two of them. He seemed to catch up because the next moment he was standing up and shrieking, “ WHAT! Four years! Cassie why didn’t you tell me!”

Cas cowered back into the still cushions, but thankfully, whatever was about to happen was interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Michael stepped into the room, tailed by Lucifer and Naomi. They all walked over and settled down one the couch and the remaining chair, leaving a space for Chuck.

They ease into a shallow conversation about the rise in profits at Michael’s company. Dean tunes out, letting the sound of Michael’s money talk become background noise to his thoughts. Cas was still gripping his hand tightly, his posture ridgid as if waiting for something to pounce.

Dean rubbed his thumb gently over Cas’s knuckles in a soothing gesture, hoping to silently comfort and remind him of his support and presence. After a while, Cas did seem to relax a bit. His grip was a bit looser and he was leaning back against the couch now. Everything seemed to be going great until Chuck Novak made his way into the room and sat down on the couch where he could look directly at Cas and Dean.

Cas immediately was on alert once more and even Dean felt the hairs on his neck rise. Chuck skimmed over them with a blank expression, pausing briefly at their conjoined hands.

The thing is, Chuck 'doesn't mind the LGBTs’ as long as it’s not his son. When it comes to this, the cowardish, skittish little man Chuck appears to be takes the back seat while a stone cold, angry version takes up front. Dean has only seen that happen once before when Gabe had mentioned relationships he has had with members of the same sex before he had met Kahli, and he is not happy to be seeing it again.

Dean tries to turn his attention to the conversation. Lucifer and Michael are explaining in extraneous detail what the company's main goal is to Naomi who seems to be understanding most of it. He thinks for a second that tonight may just go ok when the conversation ends, allowing the main focus to switch to the couple.

“So,” Naomi asks, “how long have you been together.”

“Four years.” Castiel states, looking his father in the eyes as he does so.

They all look a little taken aback that the two had been together for that long without anyone knowing about it in the slightest.

“And how’s that going for you?” She says through her fake smile.

“Quite well, actually,” Dean says, “We have an apartment together in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Im a High School English teacher there. We are really happy there.”

“Are you sure?” Chuck cut in.

“What?”

“Are you ok with… you know?” Chuck said, waving his hands around like Dean was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“If he ok with what, Chuck?” Cas said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Me being asexual?”

“Honey, there is no need to get angry, we are just making sure Dean thinks it’s a fair relationship for him.” Naomi chides.

A burst of rage sparks in Dean’s chest and he can see the turmoil in Cas’s eyes as he glares at his father. How can someone speak like that about their child? About someone as amazing as Cas?

“Dean, you can’t possibly be happy in a relationship like that! People like you love sex, right?”

This isn’t the first time the comment has been thrown his way but after what they had just said to Cas, it snaps something in Dean. A tight ball of anger bubbles in his chest as he fights to keep from blowing up. He takes a deep breath and meets Chuck’s eyes.

“People like me, meaning Bisexuals?” Dean says, keeping his voice as cool as possible.

Naomi flinches at the word a bit but agrees.

“I am perfectly happy in my relationship with Cas. Contrary to your belief, bisexuals are not sex driven animals and asexuals aren't broken people who will never find love and you have to be seriously messed up to think that sex is necessary for a relationship.” Dean snaps before standing up from the couch, pulling Cas up with him. “Thanks for having us, we’ll be leaving now.”

He borderline stomps to the front door and helps Cas with his coat before donning his own and they head out to the impala. He starts the car, blasting the heat and driving off in silence. They are just pulling out of the suburb area when he hears a sniffle from Cas. Dean instantly pulls the car over and flicks on his hazards before slinging across the bench seat.

Dean opens his arms and Cas slides over and buries his face in Dean’s chest, his fingers twisting up in the back of Dean’s coat as a sob slips out. Followed by another, and another until Cas is clinging to Dean, crying into his coat as Dean gently runs his hands up and down Cas’s back, whispering soft affirmations between kisses into Cas’s hair.

When Cas’s breathing evens out, he leans back from Dean, wiping at his red eyes and nose with his sleeve.

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Hey, how about we go to that festival we saw driving in, hmm?”

Cas nodded and buckled back into his seat while Dean buckled his own and pulled back on the road. He turned up the volume as I’m Dreaming Of A White Christmas began to play. Dean smiled as he thought back to the first snow of the season. It was early November when the weather took a dip.

Cas’s cheeks were rosy and he kept wiping his nose, the cold air making their breath come out in small puffs while they trudged their way up the hill, dragging the plastic sled behind them.

When they reached the top, Dean pushed the sled down into the snow and plopped into the back of the bright orange contraption, planting his feet to make sure it wouldn't slide before they were ready. Cas straddled in front of Dean before sitting down and falling back against Dean’s chest, putting his feet in the front of the sled and trying to make enough room for Dean’s with the thick snow pants on.

Dean wrapped his arms around the front of Cas to grab the thin rope used to steer the thing, Cas grabbed a hold too, smiling in anticipation. Dean scootched forward and the sled barely moved an inch. Cas laughed and began scooching in sync with Dean and before they knew it, Dean had his feet up in the front of the sled with Cas and they rocketed down the hill, whooping and laughing all the way down.

The thought helped ease some of the emotions swirling in his stomach as they drove into town. Knowing how much Cas loves it, despite his insistence on the opposite, Dean begins singing along to the song.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.

Just like the ones I used to know.”

Dean looked over at Cas and gave him a smile before continuing.

“ Where the tree-tops glisten,

And children listen,

To hear, sleigh bells in the snow.”

He hears Cas clear his throat and join in on the next line.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

Cas laid his hand palm up in the middle of the seat and Dean took it, lifting it up to his face and dropping a kiss to his knuckles before singing the next lines.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

The song ended just as they pulled into the lot. There weren't many people here, but that’s perfect for them tonight. The soft colored lights and sweet smells of the carnival made the night seem warmer than the frigid temperature it actually was.

Dean reached over the seat and came back with some hats and gloves for him, mittens for Cas. He put his on, waiting for Cas to do the same before they got out of the car and held hands as they made their way to the small ticket booth by the entrance. Dean handed over some cash and took his tickets with a ‘thanks’ before making his way towards the rides.

“Ooo let’s go get some hot chocolate.” Dean said, pulling Cas over to the warm, coca scented tent and ordering two cups.

The heat from the paper cup could be felt through Dean’s glove as he walked, taking careful sips to not burn his tongue on the too-hot chocolate.

“Dean, can we go on the ferris wheel?” Cas asked, gesturing towards the white metal ride with red and orange lights making spirals along the beams.

“Sure, why not.”

They went up to the lady sitting by the control panel and handed her the required amount of tickets for the ride and stepped into the carriage. Dean watched Cas from his side of the car, watching how Cas looked out the window, wiping the glass when his breath fogs it up too much to see out of. He feels a small smile tug at the corner of his lips when Cas turns and meets his eyes.

“Dean,” Cas starts.

“Yeah?”

“Does it bother you? My asexuality?” Cas said, looking down at the floor.

“Of course not Cas! I love you. I don’t need sex to love you. And it’s not like we’ve never had sex, just not frequently, and I am ok with that. I love you and love to spend time with you and that’s what matters to me.” Dean says softly, leaning forwards across the narrow aisle to take Cas’s hands in his.

What did Dean do to get someone like Cas? Someone so caring and compassionate, so smart and creative, so… Cas.

“Castiel James Novak, my sex indiferent asexual boyfriend and best friend, I love you so much. More than pie, more than Baby, hell, more than anything. Any day I spend with you is a good day. You are the kindest, smartest, most caring person I know and I’ll be damned to let some asshole make you think that you could ever not be loved.”

There were tears flowing down Cas’s cheeks and Dean wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling Cas in for a caste kiss, and another, and again. He peppered Cas’s forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips with soft kisses before pressing his lips firmly but softly to Cas’s warm, slightly chapped ones.

Cas let his tongue flick out on Dean’s bottom lip and taking full advantage of the opening Dean’s gasp gives to dive deeper into his mouth with his tongue. Dean gives as much as he gets, trying to push as much of his love into one single kiss as humanly possible.

When they break away, both panting slightly, their car is stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel. They look out the small windows at the town and its rows of light adorned houses.

“It’s beautiful.” Cas sighs.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Dean replies.

“Aww getting all sappy, Dean?” Cas chuckles.

“No- I- No-” Cas cuts Dean off by pressing another kiss to his lips.

They break apart in fits of laughter, their car shaking as they laugh and laugh and laugh. They only stop once the wheel begins moving again but when they get off, they both have bright smiles on their faces.

The smiles stay the rest of the night and all the way home as they sing Christmas songs on the ride home all the way to the moment they strip out of their winter clothes and get ready for bed, curling under the soft covers in each other's arms.

“I love you.” Dean whispers as he tetters on the verge of sleep and just as he tumbles over, he hears Cas say back, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~(Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list)~~~~~~

@kinda-not-really-vibing

#my writing #Destiel #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic #christmas #fluff

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