#i will never stop thinking or writing about how bright dean's soul is and how cas loves it

[casxsunshine]

They're lying in bed; it's half-dark in the bedroom. Dean thinks he could spend eternity like this: with Castiel's chest pressed against his back (yes, Dean's a little spoon, and he's not ashamed), with Cas' arms wrapped around him, like he's the most precious thing in the whole universe.

In the warmth. Safe.

Dean lounges in Castiel's arms for a bit longer, feeling the angel's breath on his neck. Then he turns to face Cas.

“Why do you love me?” Dean asks. He can't help but asks, because he's Dean Winchester, the I-can't-believe-that-you-love-me guy. He needs to know. He closes his eyes and runs his nose lightly over Cas'. This tenderness is small and intimate at the same time. “There are millions of people in the world and you chose me anyway.”

“Dean,” Castiel mutters, and Dean can feel the angel's warm breath settling on his lips.

“Tell me,” he asks without opening his eyes. “I want to know. Please.”

Castiel is silent for a while, making small circles on Dean's back.

“I remember saving your soul from Hell.” He says eventually. “There, in the darkness and terror of the underworld, I held your soul in my hands like a little kitten. You were covered in blood, and there was little humanity left in your eyes. But you know, your soul was still shining like a little sun, despite the nightmare around you. And you thought you deserved to be there. That selling your soul for your brother was the only right thing to do. You fought back in the beginning when I carried you up to the light. You growled and cussed and scratched, but then you... You went quiet, as if you realized something, and you... You cried. You cried and you curled up in my arms, so small and so... Brave. And I guess I somehow already knew then that we are bonded.”

Dean listens, holding his breath. He still hasn't opened his eyes.

“And when I reassembled you, when I placed each of your freckles in its place, I... I didn't understand feelings yet, didn't know anything about it, but I realize now that even then I hoped deep down inside that I would be able to touch your body again someday.”

Castiel puts his palm on Dean's chest, right where Dean's heart is beating loudly, and kisses his chin softly.

“I love everything about you, Dean. People sometimes say that to love is to ignore the worst aspects of a person and exalt their best. But I... I love you for everything. For all the light in you and all the dark in you - though there's much, much more light in you, even if you try so hard to deny it. You care about your family, you care about the world. You have so much love in you, my little human, and you spend it so generously on everyone but yourself that I can't help but love you for it.”

[castielafflicted]

Ok its been long enough I HAVE to talk about this poem more because I'm going insane over it. I'm not normal about any of my spn writing and I hope I never will be. I need you all to know how some of the lines make me feel and why I wrote them (in no order).

"I love you as you live // I love you as you die" and "I love you more than life itself // Not even death can stop that"

Cas knows how to die for Dean better than he knows how to live for Dean. And if the the best way to show his love is to die, then he will.

"You are my soul // You are my grace" shaking this line in my hands for obvious reasons.

"You are my sun // You are my moon" and "You surround me // You are in me"

Dean being the sun for Cas. Bright and all consuming to the point that he changed Cas completely. His light encompassed and surrounded Cas. Cas being the moon for Dean. Not always visible, but still there. A rock inside Dean even when he is unaware Cas is there, something to cling to.

I am more insane about this poem than I think anyone else ever will be. I hope everyone else is as much of a fan of their own work as I am of mine. Go fucking insane about your own content. You deserve it.

You all deserve my Destiel poem that I recently finished finalizing.

The left side is Cas as the moon, and the right side is Dean as the sun. I did my best with my handwriting, but you know how it is.

Moon side: Give me the sun Light of my day I give you all of me Light of my life You are my sun I watch you as you wake I love you as you live You are my soul I am with you always You surround me I love you more than life itself

Sun side: Give me the sun Light of my night I give you all of me Light of my life You are my moon You watch me as I sleep I love you as you die You are my grace I am with you always You are in me Not even death can stop that

Center: I love you

[wormstacheangel]

Suptober day 30: Feathers/ day 31: Masquerade

wc: 1.5k tags: destiel au, cas has wings, cas is in love and he is stressed about it

Castiel has always accepted that he was stranger than the average. His feelings and appearance were of normal human but as soon as he concentrated his beautiful cursed wings stretched proudly behind him.

Castiel was an angel. Just like his father and siblings around him.

They were strong creatures--he didn’t enjoy calling himself or his family that, but what else could they be categorized-- in power and strength. They were clever and knew how to use their individual powers to benefit themselves because that’s all that mattered in the end.

“Family is all we have.” His father would tell them every time Castiel showed any sign of doubt. Which was so often but now, Castiel kept his emotions hidden. Stiff and unkind looking to the world around them.

That is until a lonely hunter helped him out with a flat tire. And an easy conversation led to easy flirting. Then to a date. A date to a kiss or two. And now Castiel was falling in love faster than was imaginable.

An idiot gullible fool he must be to fall for beautiful green eyes and charming smile but here he was, being held as if he was the breakable human of the two—a fool in love.

Castiel knew the man was a hunter, he had the smell of blood oozing off of him, but that wasn’t what kept Cas from telling his family about him. No. It was his soul. Castiel has never seen such a bright soul. It felt as if it could warm up just about anybody who came near it.

Dean could make just about anybody fall in love with him.

This time, the victim was Castiel, and he was afraid it would haunt them both if the truth was not revealed soon.

“I hunt monsters.” Dean sighed into Cas’s bare shoulders. “I know I sound crazy but hear me out.”

And Cas did. He heard his life story of a child that grew up too soon—brought up in a world that revolved around revenge and family.

Castiel could relate but he also heard the story of the legacy. The family that was meant to be great and hurt those creatures that were nothing more than monsters to them.

The Winchesters.

“You thinking of an escape plan? Cause I know I sound insane but it’s all true.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Castiel asked. Watching as Dean pushed himself up so he could smile down at Castiel. Looking at him with the most intense eyes, as if they were operating on him. Pulling apart and searching for whatever made Castiel tick.

But Dean just shrugged slightly. Falling back to lay on Castiel’s chest. His face pressed into the side of Castiel’s cheek.

“I don’t know. I never told anyone before.” A soft kiss on Castiel’s cheek. “I guess I just like you.”

Castiel’s heart raced. His hands rested on Dean’s bareback to keep him close. He turned his head just enough that his lips could leave a ghostly kiss.

“I like you too.” Dean smiled, leaning closer to continue their kiss but Castiel broke apart just enough that he could catch some air. So he could have the courage to say, “Be my date tomorrow?”

“I’m actually going for a job.” Cas knew that. He understood what Dean was hunting a while ago. Dean just didn’t know it was Castiel that he was preparing to kill. Still, that didn’t stop him from leaning in to kiss Dean again. Their lips pressed firmer this time. “I can...Yeah, I can have a little bit of fun there too.”

And Castiel stayed another night in an old motel bed with the man he could easily call his. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Either way, Castiel would have to explain to his family why his date was there to murder them all.

-

“Castiel,” Cas turned towards the sound of his name. Watching his brother push past the sea of people to tug at his arm and lead him away. They entered their father’s writing room and closed the door behind them but they were not alone in the room.

“What’s this about?” Cas asked as he looked at the wary faces of his siblings. He joined his brother Gabriel on the couch while looking at his brother Michael, who dragged him in here in the first place. “Father is not gonna like us being antisocial.”

“Shut it, Cassie.” Gabriel placed an arm around Cas’ shoulders and brought him down to his level. “We have a situation.”

“A small one.” Balthazar added. Nonchalant about whatever was going on. “We can easily take him.”

“Him?” Cas asked but his stomach had already dropped.

“A hunter.” Micahel crossed his arms over his chest, standing tall and proud. “Here to cause trouble at our little benefit.”

“So we kill him before he starts anything. Easy peasy.” Gabriel suggested.

Castiel’s heart ached at the thought. No. No. No! “We can’t!”

All eyes were on him. Although his family watched him with suspicion and doubt, a familiar ringtone filled the air before they could question him any more.

Cas reached to answer his phone, standing up when he noticed who it was. “I have to go. My date is waiting for me.”

“Date?” Anna asked from where she quietly sat at Father’s desk. “You brought a date?”

She sounded overjoyed, and before the teasing could start from his brothers, Cas pushed past Michael and left the room. He sent a text to Dean to meet him on the upstairs balcony because Castiel had to confess. To Dean. To his family.

Even though he was scared to lose them all.

Castiel made it there first and paced the long balcony ground before he stopped to stare up at the full moon. Closing his eyes and wished he knew what his Mother would advise him to do. She was kind and caring, a big romantic, according to Father. Maybe she would understand. Or perhaps she would say, “Family is the most important. Kill him.”

Castiel harshly tugged his mask off, wanting to throw it off the balcony along with himself, but he resisted. It wouldn’t have killed him anyway.

“There you are.” Castiel whipped around, startled by the voice, but he quickly loosened up when the familiar body walked towards him with open arms—spinning as he did so to show off his new suit and cheap-looking mask. “I know right. I clean up good.”

He did, but Cas didn’t want to admit it. “I rarely see you with clothes on, so I wouldn’t have much to compare to.”

Dean’s eyes widen under his mask before his smile breaks out into a full grin. “Damn, Cas. I haven’t been here more than a minute and you’re already picturing me naked?”

“What can I say?” Dean walked into his space, pressing Cas against the balcony with his body as their smiles touched. “I like you.”

“Sap.”

They made out for a little bit. Dean’s mask quickly was discarded as it got in the way, but before things got too heated, Dean pushed away.

“Shit, you’re gonna distract me all night.” Dean threw his head back as Cas pulled him back between his legs so he could kiss down Dean’s jaw.

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“Considering I got a job to do. Yeah.”

Cas froze and pulled back to look back into Dean’s eyes. Watching them sparkle under the moonlight, his soul radiant and warm under his touch. He wanted more of this, of Dean, for as long as he could have him, but he knew the clock was ticking.

He would cherish the weeks he had with him, but now, all that mattered was keeping everyone alive.

“What’s up?” Dean cradled his face to make Cas look at him. “You worried about me?”

“That’s an understatement.” Cas sighed with a roll of his eyes. It made Dean smile.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart.” Dean leaned in to kiss his nose. “I’ll be okay.” He then looked at Cas with a serious but warm stare. “And nothing--if those sons of bitches know what’s good for them--will lay a finger on you, okay? I’ll protect you, Cas.”

Cas’s heart warms, and he can’t help the tears that start to fall.

“Shit,” Dean wiped them with his thumb. “Cas, don’t cry. I’ll-it’s okay! Everything will be okay.”

“It’s not.” Cas tells him. “I don’t-” Cas put distance between them this time, holding his hand out to stop Dean from coming closer. “I don’t want to lose you, Dean.”

“You won’t.”

Cas shook his head, tears still falling as he looked down at his feet. “You say that now. But I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Dean didn’t say anything so Cas took a deep breath before he continued. “Don’t be mad.”

And with that, Cas rolled his shoulders back to release his secret.

His wings stretch over the balcony, and Cas could feel the comforting heavyweight on his back. Not wanting to look up at Dean, he spoke in his flat voice.

“Dean Winchester, I am the creature you came here to kill.” With a sniffle, he finally looked up.

[calaofnoldor]

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

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[littlegnoblin]

Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them. 

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?” 

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.  

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair. 

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests. 

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically. 

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin. 

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply. 

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off. 

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.” 

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth. 

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse. 

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies. 

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.” 

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing. 

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though. 

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.” 

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line. 

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand. 

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains. 

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?” 

Shit, that should not be so hot. 

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.” 

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes. 

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air. 

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try. 

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains. 

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it. 

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

 After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city. 

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.” 

They tip their bottles together. 

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer. 

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’. 

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.” 

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch. 

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.” 

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face. 

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them. 

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers. 

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently. 

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls. 

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday. 

[jawritter]

The Devil And I

Part 1

Summary: What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? You survived after you thought your mate had died, but how will you survive finding out he's alive, only different.

Warning: Heartbreak, pining sickness, ABO dynamics, ABO, angst, tears, I think that's it for this part.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon Dean x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1965

A/N: I decided to bring this little mini series over to you guys from Patreon because I have been so busy working on a series that I haven’t been able to write any new one shots, and you guys have been asking for some ABO. This is a little different from my normal ABO series, and it’s totally unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!

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Life has a way of fucking with you. The things you thought you had gotten over and permanently walked away from have a way of coming right back around to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

It took years for you to get over Dean Winchester. Nights of panic attacks, nightmares, near death-inducing heartbreak, and suffocating grief that you honestly thought would be the death of you. Finally, one day at a time, you started to surface from your title wave of gut-wrenching emotions and heartache to start to live a little again at a time.

It has taken you years to get where you are now. To be able to get up and function like a normal person. To be able to eat something, and keep it down. To be able to sleep through the night, on most nights anyway. The only visible scar you carried on your body was your faded and disintegrating claiming mark that once marked you as Dean’s mate.

It was a miracle you had survived his rejection, and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t get pregnant through the whole ordeal, but to say Dean wasn’t exactly himself when he’d claimed you was an understatement. In fact, his eyes were normally not the bright green that was shining through the dimly lit bar you were both sitting in right now. They were, in fact, coal black when you met him, and they were black the last night you saw him.

You could scent him across the bar that you were working at when he walked in, and even though he scent was... different. Not as strong, not as sharp, more of the warm sandalwood, and pine than it was when he was with you. 

When he was with you there was a spice to it. Now that was gone.

You could tell by the way he’d held his body, and carried himself as he played pool with a tall man that you assumed was the “Sammy” he’d left you to confront, and the Omega that was with them, he wasn’t the same man. He didn’t seem as lethal, or like he could take on the whole bar with the very snap of his fingers like he had. He seemed… Well… Normal.

Dean had picked you up here at the bar one night when he came in alone, and you were drawn to him instantly. His scent was mouthwatering as it was now, and there was an almost supernatural pull that drew you to him. He took you in the back of his ‘67 Chevy, knotted you, claimed you, and that’s how you learned of the world of angels and demons. Most importantly that Dean wasn’t exactly human, and he owned you as well as your very soul.

You suppressed a whine and forced yourself to look down at the beer in front of you; peeling the label with your fingers as you tried to focus on the bottle in front of you and not the green-eyed man that was at one time your Alpha, but now was so different.

You could hear his boom of a laugh from across the crowd of people, and your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest anew. Well, what was left of a heart anyway. You thought it had all died by now, apparently, there was a little bit left.

When the pining sickness had finally left, and you miraculously survived it, you were convinced that Dean had died. That’s why the mark he’d left on you was fading, and that’s why he never came back for you.

Dean would always come back. Sure, sometimes it was covered in head to toe with someone else’s blood; but town to town, city to city, he never left you behind.

Dean was twisted, and he liked things hard, rough, and bloody, but sometimes there was a softness there that made you wonder what kind of man you used to be, now you knew, because it was standing right in front of you.

“You okay miss?” a young man asked you as he walked by your table, and you hurriedly wiped the tears away that you hadn’t even realized had fallen until the young man had got your attention away from Dean and his pool stick he was leaning on.

You cleared your throat and nodded before answering him.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice so small that you barely heard it yourself above the sounds of the bar that filled the room.

The young man’s eyes followed the path of your previous gaze before landing back on you.

“That asshole Alpha do something to hurt you, Omega, the one that is leaning against the pool table?” he asked, but you just shook your head no, and after staring at you a few more seconds he gave up and turned to leave you in your misery.

You knew you had to get up and walk out of this bar, that people were going to notice that you were a mess, and you were going to attract unwanted attention from the other Alpha’s in the bar, but you just didn’t have it in you.

It was like some invisible force you had no control over was holding you to your seat, and even if you tried to stand up, your legs would collapse from under you, and you would then just be a puddle of nothing on the floor.

You watched every move Dean made. The way his body angled as he lined up his shot on the pool table, the way his tongue peeked out of his lips just enough to see the tip while he furrowed his brow in concentration.

Everything about him was so familiar but so different all at the same time. He was still just as beautiful, just as strong and heartbreakingly handsome. Still, he wasn’t the same Alpha that had claimed you. The mark on his arm was gone, and the scent was slightly different. It was almost like the demon had become the man again, and you were just left behind, and all but forgotten about.

The game of pool ended, and the winnings were split amongst Dean and the two other men playing against him and Sam, then after it was over Dean downed the rest of his beer as Sam slung his arm around his Omega, and they all turned to make their way out of the bar.

This was it, Dean was leaving again, and he was leaving without you. You felt like your chest had literally been slip open, and that you were about to die right there in that corner booth. You didn’t even realize you were following them until the cold night air hit your tear-streaked face, and the railing of the small porch attached to the front of the old wood-framed bar stopped you.

You weren’t the only one that noticed you had followed the three out of the bar. Sam’s Omega grabbed at his shirt and pulled until she got his attention, then pointed at you. You were frozen to the spot, too scared to move. The hazel eyes of the tall Alpha watched you for a moment, but you just couldn’t move.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention, and Dean followed his gaze. One foot in the driver side door of the Impala, and his impressive frame hidden mostly behind the door.

You watched as Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes raked over your trembling form before looking at Sam, who was looking between yourself and Dean. Both men shared a tense glance as if having some sort of silent conversation between themselves before Dean’s eyes found your own again. Even though the blurred, tear-stained vision you had, you could see how his green eyes sparkled against the darkness of the parking lot.

Looking at him this close, you could see the darkness that once was there was lifted; the man that you always assumed was underneath on full display.

“Omega,” he said, the deep tremble of his voice shooting through your shell shocked brain, making you flinch back as his voice seemed to send a joist of electricity directly to the claiming mark that was all but gone now.

“Omega, are you okay?” Sam asked, and you shot a wild gaze in his direction before your eyes fell back on Dean, who was gradually making his way closer to you, leaving the door open to his ‘67 Impala.

You could feel every fiber of your being pulling you towards the man that used to be your Alpha as if your body was calling out to him, and you wondered if he could feel it too. There was no way you could ask him because right now all you could do was cry.

Sam kept his distance but kept his eyes on you as Dean approached you slowly with his hands raised as if to show you he meant you no harm. The closer he got the stronger his scent seemed to become.

“Dean,” Sam said, a warning in his voice, and Dean shot a look at his brother that you didn’t understand. All you could understand was that this was your Alpha, and he didn’t even recognize you. You could see it in the way he moved, in his eyes.

Then he saw it. The faded claiming mark on your throat, and you watched as he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

He was close enough to grab you before he finally reached his hand out for you to take. “Omega, where is your Alpha?” he asked, still completely unaware that your Alpha was standing there asking you the very question everyone else was thinking; the one you had thought for months.

“You… You don’t know… Do you?” you finally made your own voice work enough to ask him. He turned his head in confusion and took a step closer to you. When he did, in a fit of bravery, you grabbed his large calloused hand and placed it directly over your faded calming mark.

You watched as his pupils dilated, and recognition swept over his face. He almost stumped as he pulled his hand away from your neck, around three shades paler than he was a moment ago.

“Dean?” Sam asked, and you vaguely noticed that his Omega was now standing very close to his right arm with her hand on his bicep.

“She… She’s my Omega… I claimed her when I was a demon,” Dean said, his eyes locked on yours, and you were pretty sure he could see your pulse racing just under your skin.

You were a shaking, trembling, mess standing there in front of the man that once was your Alpha. You felt like your world was spinning around you, and knew if he rejected you right now, and walked away from you again you’d never live through it. Not this time.

“Your, I’m sorry what?” Sam asked, sharing a look from his Omega to Dean.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean said, shaking his head as he took a good step back from. You grabbed the railing for support, and looked down at your feet, unable to look at the man that was once your Alpha.

“Dean, she’s not gonna…”

“I know Sam!” Dean yelled before his brother could finish his statement, and you almost hit your knees.

Dean instinctively reached out and caught you in his strong hold, and his scent surrounded you so thick that you felt like it was seeping through our very skin. The world started to fade from your vision, and the next thing you remember was everything going black around you.

Pt. 2 here

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[wayward-mikaelson]

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

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You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[chaiscentedcandle]

A Wedding! (Neville Longbottom x fem!reader)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Neville Longbottom

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: y/n and Neville get married after a few years of dating

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: none/NA

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader wears a wedding dress (in case for those who don’t want to wear a wedding dress)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,580 words

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I thought it would be cute to write a little story of you and Neville getting married because who wouldn’t love that? Plus y’all are living on crumbs so I’m gonna give y’all a full meal, also I didn’t really hint at a “maide of honor” or a “best man” and I don’t really say who walks you down the aisle in case someone gave themselves a father or a different character.

Nerves were running at an all time high today. The day of complete bliss, a happy ending to a new start. A win in the eyes of many even though the dark years had passed but who didn’t want a win? Especially as one as beautiful as this ceremony. The joining of two people becoming one powerful soul.

Today is Neville and Y/n wedding day. Anxiously waiting till they could see each other at the end of the aisle and say “I do”, In each parties rooms people were running around getting things ready and helping either the bride or the groom get ready. In Nevilles courtiers Ron was tasked with doing Nevilles hair because let’s be honest, in moments like this Nevilles hands shake too much. And Ron seems like a man who could do hair. Harry was doing something with his glasses, standing awkwardly with no task.

While in Y/n’s room Hermione had been doing her hair. Hermione already being dressed because she loves being early, while the other bridesmaids got ready around them, Molly Weasley keeps checking things and asking Y/n questions, either how she is or if she’s excited. Talking about how she remembers her wedding with Arthur or the busy days before Bill and Fleurs wedding then rambaling about weddings. Y/n had invited the Weasleys because of the kindness they had showed her during her years at Hogwarts, especially when people would hate on her for dating Neville.

Y/n and Neville actually didn’t start their friendship over Herbology, they started talking after being paired in Transfigurations when Neville was having a hard time. From then things started to come together and now in the present she gets to marry her best friend. Hermione was putting the finishing touches on her hair before Molly asked if she was ready to put in her wedding dress. “Yes, a little nervous but yes” Y/n told her, Molly just let out a small laugh, a tissue in her hand in case a few tears slip out.

Helping her slip and zip up her dress Molly took Y/n to a mirror to look at herself. “How do you feel, dear?” She asked, tears sprung to Y/n’s eyes as she tried not to let them fall, not wanting to ruin the makeup she had on “like a bride” Y/n responded with. Molly began to dry her eyes “oh dear, if you cry I’m going to start crying and I won’t stop” she said with a laugh. Hermione was off to the side with tears in her eyes as well, Y/n spotted her and held her hand out, Hermione took her hand and held onto her arm “don’t cry, Hermione” yet a few tears had slipped out “I’m not the one you should be telling not to cry, honestly, you’re the one with the make up and getting married” Hermione laughed out.

“We’ll let’s get you out there, we can’t keep Neville waiting for too long” Hermione said.

Now in Nevilles room he’s standing in front of a mirror as well, his groomsmen busing themselves with the finale touches on their suits. “Clean up nice, don’t you Neville?” Dean Thomas said “yes, I do don’t I?” Neville smiled proudly, turning to Ron he said “thank you for doing my hair, mate” Ron smiled up at Neville with doing his belt “no problem, mate” Ron said back, then began to gush a bit “Hermiones taught me a few things”

Dean laughed and nudged Neville “well, we should get you out there before she is” Neville agreed and with that they made their way to the alter, waiting for the beautiful bride.

What was minutes felt like hours to Neville, standing with the officiater, in the five minutes it took for her to get to the door Neville had given himself a pep talk, more a speech, preparing himself to see Y/n. Then finally the doors open.

Molly and Hermione hand her off to who walks her down the aisle, brushing a few stray tears away. Molly went to take her seat while Hermione joined the bridesmaids in going out first. Her heart began to pump faster and louder as she saw the door come to view, the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen with linked elbows making their way out, then finally it’s Y/n’s turn, music begins to play and everyone stand to their feet.

All eyes are in the bride as her beautiful wedding gown is shown off, whispers of just how beautiful she looks. From the moment Y/n stepped out she locked eyes with Neville and wouldn’t tear her eyes away, Neville shed a few tears before he decided to not hold back, it was now settling in for him that Y/n is his, forever until the start align, and just how beautiful she is in her gown. Today was everything he could ask for and he couldn’t ask for any more, he could be marrying her in his pajamas and he’d still wheep like a baby, the happiest being her husband.

Y/n was traded off to Neville, handing her bouquet to her bridesmaids, her hands fitting perfectly in Nevilles, he looked her up and down, biting his lip and trying to keep more tears from coming out, but with a beautiful bride like her, he couldn’t help it. “Don’t cry, my love, it’s alright” she told him, he shook his head “with a angel like you in front of me? I can’t help it” she smiled wide, letting a few tears slip as well.

Molly handed Y/n two tissues, one for her and Neville. Y/n took the deed in drying Nevilles tears and whipping his nose while she did the same with her tissue.

“Well, let’s not wait too long shall we” the officiater spoke, opening his book he began to read aloud. Neville and Y/n kept eye contact, as if their souls had connected as one, they loved each other and you could see it from miles and miles away, they didn’t want anybody else but each other, and so it shall stay that way. “Now, shall we here the vows?” The officiater asked. Neville started with his.

“My dear Y/n, from the moment I spotted you it was love at first sight for me, I was a shy chubby kid but because of you I’ve learned to explore outside my shell just a bit, we’re still working on it” laughs rang throughout the crowd “people were always pairing off and being best friends, most of the time I felt like I didn’t fit in, sometimes it felt like I only have my toad, Trevor, or the professors” another wave of laughs “but because that fateful day when we were paired in Transfigurations and I was having a hard time, we completely changed our futures and I wouldn’t want to change it, now because of you I can feel happy, be myself, and love unapologetically, thank you for never leaving me even when people would give you hate for being with me, you’ve showed me what it’s like to love and no matter what gift I give you I can never say thank you enough for that, my beautiful bride, I can’t wait to be yours forever” once Neville had finished Y/n had to take another tissues from Molly because she began to cry her eyes out.

“That was so sweet” she said with a little laugh as she patted her eyes, with a deep breath she said “well, I guess it’s my turn” giving Neville a short giggle.

“To the sweet little boy who I helped in Transfigurations class, I don’t know how to thank fate for putting us together, though it think I need to thank McGonagall for that” again laughs rang through the crowd, luckily they had invited McGonagall who said a sweet “you’re welcome” a bright smile on her face “you’ve proved to me that there’s more then just wizard magic, you’ve helped me become a women I idolized when I was younger, a world without you is a world I don’t want to live in, everyday I wake up I’m thankful to be next to you, and to know that you are truly the one for me, I will never stop telling you that I love you more and I promise to help you with all your plants” even that one made Y/n giggle.

“Now, Neville, will you take Y/n to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?” The officiater spoke, Neville nodded his head “I-I will” he couldn’t hide his smile anymore.

“Y/n , will you take Neville to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?” The officiated turned to Y/n “I will”

Finally the words everyone was waiting for “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride” the part Neville had been waiting for, leaning forward he captured his lips with hers in a sweet kiss filled with love. Cheers and clapping were heard throughout the crowd.

The ceremony had passed and now it’s time for the reception, the first dance of the bride and groom with a song of their love played.

Neville took her waist and held her other hand, Y/n’s hand that wasn’t occupied with Nevilles was holding his shoulder so he could be closer to her. Leaning down a little Neville kissed the tip of her nose “you look absolutely stunning” Neville told her. From the many amounts of times she’s seen her blush he could never get over it “thank you, darling, you don’t look too bad yourself” she responded, they shared a laugh, twirling her and bringing her back to her arms “this is just chapter one of our story” Neville whispered to her “with many more to come” again giving her another love filled kiss.

[dothwrites]

2020 Writing in Review

Well, it’s been a shitshow of a year, ain’t it? The one bright spot in this year was that it left me a ton of time for writing! With no further ado, here are the fics I worked on the year of our lord, 2020. 

---

the blood which we drew | Rated: M | Word Count: 7335 | COMPLETE

Castiel bears the Mark. And for a few months, it's fine.

It's fine until it isn't.

---

ramble on | Rated: E | Word Count: 26,875 | WIP

A series of Season 15 codas, crossposted to tumblr. Tags, Warnings, and Rating may change, based on source material.

(Technically started this in 2019, but I added to it this year, so I’m counting it)

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protect and serve | Rated: E | Word Count: 49,953 | COMPLETE

Police officer Dean Winchester's next assignment seems easy enough: a protection detail on Assistant District Attorney Castiel Novak, who's been receiving death threats in conjunction with the case that he's prosecuting. Dean's assignment is to keep ADA Novak safe, alive, and in one piece so that he can start his trial against Dick Roman, notorious CEO charged with the death of at least eight people.

With threats that quickly spin out of control, a missing teenage genius, Dean's attraction to Novak, and Novak's mercurial attitude towards Dean--Dean Winchester's next assignment is anything but easy.

---

what stays (and what fades away) | Rated: E | Word Count: 64,421 | COMPLETE

Cas Novak’s life is perfect. He has a job that he loves and friends who support him. Most importantly, he has his husband, Dean Winchester, and his two adopted children, Claire and Jack. With them, nothing could ever go wrong.

That is, until he starts having flashes of a life that isn’t his and meets someone who shares his husband’s face but not his personality, someone who insists that he’s someone, something, different altogether. Cas’ life shatters when he’s dragged into a world that he doesn’t belong to and doesn’t understand.

Dean Winchester’s life was already shattered when he lost Castiel.

---

thunder road | Rated: E | Word Count: 20,883 | COMPLETE

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

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alone together | Rated: E | Word Count: 74, 239 | COMPLETE

Like the rest of the world, Dean Winchester’s job sent him home with the supplies necessary to work from home and a vague farewell of “We’ll see you when this all blows over”. Unlike the rest of the world, Dean Winchester is entering into a quarantine with Castiel Novak, his incredibly hot and incredibly uninterested roommate. How is Dean supposed to concentrate on his job while Cas is just a few feet away, being...well, Cas?

Castiel Novak was already working from home, so the news of social distancing doesn’t affect him that much. What does send him into a panic is the knowledge that Dean Winchester, his stunning and straight roommate, will also be working from home for the foreseeable future. After spending so long trying to distance himself from Dean, Castiel now has to face a future where Dean is present. All. The. Time.

They’ve got food, Internet, and all the toilet paper they need, but neither one of them is prepared for quarantine.

---

for a sinner released | Rated: E | Word Count: 8,800 | COMPLETE

Testing his theory, he runs his fingers over the soft skin of Dean’s wrist, until his thumb is pressed firmly against Dean’s hammering pulse. Cas pulls, gently but inexorably, until Dean is forced to take a step forward. The shift in positioning pushes the barrel of the gun into his forehead.

Cold metal touches overheated skin, and Cas inhales sharply at the contrasting sensations. The gun is unforgiving, relentless, beautiful.

It’s like Dean.

---

and all this devotion | Rated: M | Word Count: 10,572 | COMPLETE

Dean’s not stupid. He’s seen the looks Cas has aimed his way, when Cas thought he wasn’t paying attention. He’s leveled his share of looks back at Cas when the angel’s attention was elsewhere. More than once, he’s been caught in the act. At this point, they’re both dancing around the same elephant, too scared and caught in their ways to make the first move.

OR: Dean gets hurt on a hunt. Cas takes care of him. There's only one bed. Confessions ensue.

---

lost in translation | Rated: T | Word Count: 3,720 | COMPLETE 

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean.

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish.

---

a new song about a new life | Rated: E | Word Count: 21,282 | WIP

There is no happily ever after. Mostly because there is no after. Life is just a series of days and nothing ever really ends. It just continues on, even after the curtain closes, and while the struggles might not be epic, they're no less impressive. Domestic life isn't without its pitfalls and trials, but at the end of the day, Dean and Cas still have each other and in the end, that's enough.

A series of timestamps detailing the small adventures of Dean and Castiel. Will contain teensy amounts of angst and a heap of fluff and domesticity.

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angel in black | Rated: E | Word Count: 95,325 | COMPLETE

Bounty hunter Castiel Novak has simple rules for how he conducts his business. Get in, get out, deliver the fugitive, and do it all with the least amount of effort possible. Never become emotionally involved.

When he takes on the job of hunting down Sam and Dean Winchester in order to bring them to justice, his rules start shifting. Threatened by supernatural forces as well as his attraction to Dean, Castiel soon has to decide what he’s willing to stand for…and what he’s willing to die for.

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ghosts that we knew | Rated: E | Word Count: 89,411 | COMPLETE

Dean can’t help it. Castiel’s laugh is infectious, washing over him and sweeping him up in its tide. His throat and stomach ache with the feel of it, unfamiliar muscles worked past their endurance. He hasn’t laughed like this in weeks, maybe years.

Cas doesn’t stop laughing, and Dean relishes it. It’s such a good sound, deep and throaty. It rumbles over him the same way that Baby’s engine purrs, to where he can almost feel it in his gut. Dean’s giddy, the kind of happy that hunters don’t get to feel, and if it weren’t for the ceiling, he thinks he might float away. Cas’ eyes crinkle when he laughs, and his smile goes wide and gummy. He’s so brilliant, so alive—

But you’re dead, Dean thinks helplessly. But you’re dead.

---

Castiel Novak is one of the best hunters Dean Winchester has ever worked with. He's witty, whip-smart, and has enough knowledge about the supernatural to rival an encyclopedia. He's got humor dry enough to put the Sahara to shame and he's pretty easy on the eyes as well. All in all, he's the best partner Dean could have hoped for.

Too bad he's dead.

---

the best of things | Rated: G | Word Count: 2,494 | COMPLETE

There’s something.

This is significant because, for as long as Castiel can remember, there’s been nothing. --- Castiel finds a way out of the Empty.

---

freedom | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,804 | COMPLETE

Freedom.

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

--- OR: Dean makes a choice.

---

at the end of the world | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,631 | COMPLETE

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems.

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed.

--- OR: Team Free Will gets the soft epilogue which they deserve.

---

let your heart be light | Rated: M | Word Count: 31,651 | WIP

It's Dean and Cas' first official Christmas together as a couple. What could possibly go wrong?

Just Cas' weird family, his own personal hang-ups about Christmas, Dean's persistent belief that the miracle of Christmas can heal all wounds, and meddling friends and family.

Have a Merry Christmas.

[sidecarghost]

(x)

Proof Castiel is Sam Winchester’s blurry non-gendered spouse.

Y yo at ti, Cas.

And I, you.

Castiel honoring Dean’s wishes. And watches over Sam for the rest of his life.

Spn 11x23 Alpha and Omega

CAS: I could go with you.

DEAN: No, I got to do this alone. Listen, if—when—when this works, Sam—he's gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

CAS: Of course.

DEAN: [places his hand on Cas’s shoulder] Thank you for everything.

I think Sastiel would have fun married couple adventures. And they’d both be amazing dads for their son Dean. Cas probably splits his time between cosmic duties with Jack and time with Sam. So his presence is more in the background and out of focus then attention demanding.

Sam and Cas both miss Dean terribly, but they accept Dean just wasn’t ready to flip that hourglass over one more time for a chance at a normal life. And even though they can’t understand it they respect that it was Dean’s choice to make.

Getting married wasn’t planned by Sam and Cas, but they both consoled each other over Dean’s violent passing at a young age. And Sam wanted to hunt but knew better than to hunt on his own so he prayed to Cas, and Cas came to help. When Cas learned Dean Winchester died from getting jabbed by pointy rebar he was devastated. Dean didn’t pray to him, so Cas kept his distance from Heaven. He figured Dean would call when he was ready for him. Or if he was ever ready for him.

Cas knew Dean would want Sam to have a good life, so Cas picked that as his new mission and made sure to carry foam packs to cover pointy metal wherever Sam went. Sam rolled his eyes at Cas’s attempt to baby proof the Earth but he was touched to see the angel pull himself out of his own misery to watch over Sam.

After months of monster hunting Sam told Cas he was quitting. The hunting had been a way to cope with the soul crushing sorrow of losing his brother. But hunting wasn’t who he was anymore. Castiel thought and nodded. He thought the Winchester’s had bled enough for humanity and deserved some peace.

~~ I meant to poke at this idea a little bit, but it got lengthy and remainder is under the cut. And it’s just a happy Sastiel fic pretty much following the finale without much deviation, but is meant to make the whole Sam montage less soulless. I don’t have any resolution for Dean, because Dean’s character is just ruined for me at the moment. His meaningless death in series finale still prevents me from writing anything remotely cheerful for Dean. So I’m just avoiding doing anything more than mentioning him.~~

Sam and Castiel rented a little house, because the bunker was too depressing to live in. Castiel called in a favor with Jack to expunge all the Winchester’s public records. Sam and Dean were now upstanding citizens with a spotless record. Dean’s obituary now stated he died during a construction accident while working on a barn. Castiel had a mausoleum built for the Winchester’s, and even though Dean’s remains had been burned he tracked down every molecule of scattered carbon ash that had been part of Dean and set it in his coffin. He also held a second service for the hunter that was a huge affair exactly as Dean had wished for when he faced off against Amara.

Meanwhile, Sam Winchester had started taking night courses to get his law degree and pass the bar exam. With his spotless record he was able to become a prosecuting attorney and did amazing work bringing criminals to justice within the judicial system.

Castiel ends up being really good at dog training after working with Miracle on obedience and agility training. So he starts a dog training school for pet owners to learn how to train their pets without any harsh methods.

One day around Christmas, Sam and Cas are sitting on the couch watching some lgbt hallmark Christmas movie and drinking eggnog. Cas leans his head on Sam’s chest, and they start kissing and they don’t stop. Maybe they both still missed Dean and were just looking for a distraction or maybe they both had slowly fallen in love with each other over the years. They have a small ceremony and Castiel spends the rest of his immortal life proudly bearing the Winchester last name as his own.

Angel reproduction may grant human vessels hermaphrodite sex organs or maybe Sam finds a spell that lets Cas or himself swap sex. Whatever the case, they decide to have a family and nine months later their son Dean is born. Dean is a nephilim, and he has a good heart and a kind soul just like his dads. And he also has all the selflessness and sensitivity of his deceased uncle enjoying a solitary road trip across Heaven.

Original Charlie was brought back by Jack, (along with everyone else that had sacrificed their lives and wanted to have another chance to live a normal life). Charlie buys baby Dean the most obnoxious toddler overalls ever with the name “Dean” embroidered in bright yellow across the front. Sam takes one look at them and after a fit of laughter gets ready to throw them in the trash, but Castiel starts tearing up over them and traces out the letters. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him how ridiculous the pants look, so he just smiles at Cas and places a hand reassuringly on Cas’s waist and hopes Dean isn’t looking down from Heaven and seeing that outfit.

Sam lives a long life, and his death occurs at an old age while in hospice care at their home. Castiel knew Sam’s life was coming to an end, and he had been keeping an eye out for the reaper that would come to collect Sam’s soul. And finally one day he sees a reaper beside the bedside of his beloved. Cas fetched their son Dean to Sam’s bedside. He wants their son to have a chance to say goodbye to Sam while he’s alive, and then Cas will accompany Sam’s soul to Heaven. Castiel watches invisibly next to the quiet reaper standing nearby. He still feels a terrible ache in his heart that Dean had missed out on growing old.

After all this time, Castiel had still never heard a prayer from Dean. Bobby had told Castiel that he mentioned to Dean his rescue by Jack from the Empty. But that Dean had taken off in the Impala after that. It seemed that Bobby couldn’t resist busting Dean’s chops about John Winchester living next door. Maybe that attempt at a joke shook Dean, and he just needed 40 years to collect himself.

Regardless of the reason for Dean’s silence, Castiel thinks about the best way to facilitate the reunion of Sam and Dean without causing Dean any distress. Castiel decides he’ll stay invisible when Sam and Dean get their reunion in Heaven. He’ll let Sam tell Dean when he is ready, or maybe Dean will ask about him and that makes him smile softly to himself.

With that settled Cas lets his attention rest on his son. He is so proud of his and Sam’s son, and he is sure Dean will be proud of his nephew too. Their son will be able to visit freely between Heaven and Earth so this goodbye isn’t the end for them. 

Sam and Cas’s son, Dean, leans over the recumbent body of Sam Winchester and kisses him goodbye and tells him it’s okay to go. Sam’s eyes close for the final time. Then, a moment later, Sam’s soul is standing next to Castiel and the reaper. All the years have vanished from Sam’s appearance, and Cas is looking at the same young man he had fallen in love with watching formulaic romcoms some 40 years ago. Their son, Dean, can still see Sam, because his nephilim abilities let him pierce the Veil. He embraces his dad, and Sam tells his son to come visit him in Heaven whenever he wants, and Sam whispers to his son to promise to take good care of Castiel for him. Their son, Dean, nods with sincerity and whispers back to his dad Sam that he’ll keep that promise for the rest of his life.

Sam turns towards Castiel and the lovers share a passionate kiss. All the chronic pain from Sam’s failing health is gone. And Cas feels a rush of excitement from Sam’s rising libido. Cas kind of wishes the reaper and his son weren’t standing right there at this moment. Sam notices Castiel’s discomfort and laughs. He then offers his husband his hand to hold. Castiel gazes at Sam’s face with eyes full of love and takes hold of Sam’s hand.

Castiel locks on to the location of Dean’s soul in Heaven. He unfurls his majestic rainbow wings and flies Sam to a few feet behind his brother on the bridge. After he sets Sam down he sees Dean smile, and he hears the brothers greet each other. Castiel remains invisible and he sees the reaper responsible for Sam nod and teleport away. Castiel feels tears come to his eyes watching the two brothers have the reunion they have deserved for so long. He watches them embrace and smiles to himself.

A moment later Castiel teleports back to his home with his son Dean. The father and son hug, and Castiel begins making plans for a celebration of the life of Sam Winchester. He wants the funeral of Sam to be the biggest ever seen in their state. Sam and Dean had been true heroes and their memory deserved no less. The mausoleum where Sam and Dean’s remains rest will be guarded for eternity by the angel that loved them beyond all logic and reason.

While Castiel makes himself busy planning, his son Dean helps tidy the house and stumbles over a board game. “Hey dad, how do you play Twister?” Dean asks. Castiel can’t resist smiling and begins to explain the rules of the game to his son. “Can we bring some of these games to Heaven when we visit dad Sam and uncle Dean?” Dean asks. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea,” Cas smiles to his son thinking back to playing “Sorry” with Dean and “Connect 4″ with Jack. He feels like those were memories from yesterday and not decades ago. But decades is barely a moment relative to the immortal life of an angel.

“These games are special, Dean, because they give us the most precious thing in the universe,” Castiel tells his son. “They give us time spent enjoying the company of our loved ones. I haven’t spent very long on Earth in the company of humanity, but in my short time here I learned that time is a gift. It’s the most precious gift we can give the people we love. And spending that time on big gestures is never as fulfilling as just all the little things we can do together. The grand gestures seems to get forgotten rather quickly by those closest to use. Big events are important for posterity and the history books, and they are important for shaping the world we live in. I want Sam and Dean to have a big, beautiful funeral so their memory lives on for the people that didn’t know them well. The big funeral isn’t so much about me honoring them, as me keeping their story alive for posterity. But honoring them is even more important to me, and I honor them with every decision I make, for every moment of the day, for the rest of my existence. I choose the selfless and sensitive choice that Dean would have chosen, and I choose the courageous and loyal choice that Sam would have chosen. Humans were never meant to be grand visions set on a pedestal, they were meant to be appreciated on a much smaller scale along with full attention to their strengths and their quirks. 

“And our life spent together hurtling through space in orbit around a star is oddly enough defined by the mundane. The simple times spent together are the treasures that we seem ideally equipped to hold close and carry on.”

[themrsdeanwinchester]

Two Souls - Part 1

Welcome to my first mini series! I had originally planned on this being a one shot but I got attached while writing it and it’s a story that is very close to my heart. I decided why not turn it into my very first mini series! I say mini because I don’t plan on it being longer than four, five parts tops. But that could change. We will see how it goes. :) In this series, Dean has retired from hunting but still lives in the bunker with Sam.

I’m the only one who has read this, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. I read it and did my best to find all my errors. You can find more of my work here.

Pairing: Dean x female reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being adorable. Possible trigger warnings in future parts of the story.

Word Count: 3,866

Series Summary: Dean starts a job working as a mechanic as a locally owned auto shop. The owner’s daughter, who works at the shop, makes Dean’s heart ache from the moment he sets eyes on her. But, does she feel the same way? What will her dad think? When her life starts crumbling, is it Dean who will be there for her and help her pick up the pieces?

I would love feedback, please :) Also, please send me a message/ask if you'd like to be added to my tag list.

Dean pulled his Impala into a spot at David’s Auto Shop for his interview with the owner and office manager. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked at the shop bays, all seven of them full of cars. The shop was a busy one because it was popular with the locals. The owner, David, was well respected and had been in business for over twenty years. Dean was nervous that his resume wouldn’t impress the veteran mechanic since he had never worked for an auto shop before. 

He got out of the Impala and ran his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He had chosen his nicest plaid shirt, buttoned all the way up to the collar and tucked into his jeans. He had done his best to clean up his boots but they were still stained. 

Dean approached the shop, resume in hand. He grabbed the door, took another deep breath and stepped inside the shop. The phones were ringing off the hook, mechanics were running in and out of the door from the shop to grab keys, put paperwork on the counter and answer the phones.

A husky, tall man with broad shoulders walked through the door and set his gaze on Dean.

“How can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m here for an interview,” Dean said. He glanced at the man’s name patch. He was the owner.

“You must be Dean. I’m David.” He extended his left hand to Dean. Out of instinct, Dean reached out his right hand to shake David’s. Only to fumble and change to his left. David laughed. “I’m left handed. My handshake always throws everyone off. Go through that doorway,” David pointed to Dean’s right, “and the first door on your right is the office manager’s office. I’ll meet you in there. She’s expecting you.” 

Dean crossed the lobby and into the hallway. To his left was a hallway that lead to the shop and  a few feet ahead he could see the office manager’s door. As he approached it, he could hear music. To his delight, it was Led Zeppelin. When he entered the room, the woman looked up at him from the desk and his jaw slightly dropped. He hadn’t been expecting a woman as beautiful as she was. He stood there staring for a moment until she broke the silence.

“Hi. You must be Dean.” She stood up and walked around the desk. Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes travel up and down her body. She was wearing jeans that fit just right, hugging her curves in all of the right places and that flared slightly around her boots. She was wearing a plain black V-neck shirt with a mechanics shirt that matched David’s “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She extend her hand to Dean with a blinding smile on her face.

When Dean took her hand, he was surprised at how soft her skin was despite her very firm handshake. “Y-Yeah. Dean. Nice to meet you, too,” he stuttered.

David saved him by walking in the door. “I see you’ve met my daughter,” he said. “Turn the radio down.” He gestured to Y/N who turned the nob down to a whisper.

“Oh, I didn’t know she was your daughter,” Dean said. He looked back at Y/N who just smiled again.

“Shall we get started?” She suggested, taking a seat behind her desk again. 

Dean sat in a chair across from her and David sat next to Y/N. 

“So, Dean. It doesn’t look like you have ever worked as a mechanic before,” Y/N said, looking over his short resume. “But you say you’ve got a few decades of experience.” She looked up at Dean.

“No, I mean yes. Well, no I haven’t ever worked as a mechanic for a shop before but I do have a lot of experience. My dad taught me a lot and then I also learned as I went. I have rebuilt my car a few times. I do all of my own work on her. My other dad, well, my adopted dad, kind of, he owned a junk yard. I worked on a lot of cars at his place as well,” Dean explained. He took another deep breath and cursed himself for fumbling so much. 

Y/N and her dad nodded, exchanged a glance and Y/N smiled a little.

“I am mostly self taught as well,” David said to Dean. “Just classes in high school and college, mostly because it’s the only subjects I liked,” he chuckled. 

“It says you have been self employed all your life. Winchester Brothers. What did you do?” Y/N asked.

“My brother and I were in the business of... pest control.” Dean widened his eyes a little, realizing he didn’t actually know anything about exterminating bugs. He prayed they didn’t ask him details.

Again, the daughter and father duo nodded. Dean used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. He hadn’t been this nervous about anything in awhile. It didn’t help that every time he looked at Y/N, his heart lurched as if it were reaching out to her.

“Dean,” David’s voice brought Dean back down to earth. “I like you. And I’m always right about people. You’ve got yourself a job. Y/N will get your shirt size and have a few made for you. I’ve got to get back out there. I’ve got an engine I need to finish a rebuild on by the end of the day.” David stood up, stumbled a little and groaned.

Y/N jumped jump. “Dad, why don’t you take it easy. I can finish the rebuild for you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. She listened to Led Zeppelin, was beautiful, and could work on cars? He was impressed.

“I’m fine,” David snapped, causing Y/N to recoil and plop back down behind her desk. “Can you start tomorrow?” David directed at Dean.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great, see you at 7:30AM. We might have some old shop shirts you can wear until Y/N gets yours in. Have a good one.” With that, David lumbered out the door and disappeared.

Dean looked back at Y/N. Her eyes were glistening with tears but he could tell she was holding them back. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up, blinking back the tears. “Yes. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “What size are you, Dean?”

He loved the way she said his name. It was heavenly. “Large.”

“Okay. I’ll order you five shirts. Do you have a nickname you’d like on the name patch or is Dean ok?”

“Dean is fine. I don’t have a nickname.” Dean was now able to see the name patch on her shirt. It said Bud. “Is Bud your boyfriend?” He asked before his brain could tell his mouth stop.

Y/N looked down at her name patch. “Oh, no. My dad calls me Bud. Has ever since I was a kid. I have one or two with my actual name on it but the ones that say Bud are my favorite,” she explained as she stood up. “Come with me. I’ll get you a few shirts for the rest of the week. Your shirts should be in by next Monday.”

Dean followed Y/N out of her office and down the hallway. Next to a door labeled Parts there was a coat closest. Y/N rummaged through it looking for shirts. She handed him four.

“That’ll get through until Friday and Monday morning I should have yours in. Oh, what kind of car do you have?”

“67 Impala.”

Y/N eyes widened a little. “Can I see it?” Her voice was bubbling over with excitement. 

“Absolutely.”

Y/N followed Dean outside. “Wow,” she breathed. “She’s gorgeous. How long have you had her?”

“A couple decades,” Dean answered. He watched as her hand hovered over the hood. He could tell she wanted to touch it, run her hands along the shiny and warm metal. She curled her fingers and retracted her hand. “You can touch her,” Dean said through a small laugh.

Y/N turned to him, a smile on her face. She gently placed her hand on the hood, soaking up the beauty of the Impala. “I might have to talk to you into letting me drive her someday.”

Dean laughed. “Maybe. I barely let my brother drive her.”

“Fair enough. I won’t let anyone drive my truck.”

“What do you have?”

“66 Ford F100. Caribbean Turquoise. It was my dad’s first truck. I helped him rebuild it a few years ago.” She turned to face Dean. “Want to see it?” Her smile was so big, there was no way Dean could say no.

He followed Y/N around back and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw her truck. It stood out, the Caribbean Turquoise bright and shiny compared to the darker and more neutral toned cars around it.

“Oh, wow. It’s nice. How long did it take you guys to rebuild?” Dean peeked through the window. The interior was the same color, even the seat. The inside was immaculate.

“A few months. We had an advantage, owning a shop and all,” Y/N said, gesturing up at the building. She looked at the shop for a long time. Dean watched as she admired it and her eyes started to glisten again. “Well,” she broke the silence. She curled her index fingers under her eyes, pushing her eyes closed to soak up the tears. “We will see you in the morning, Dean. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow,” Dean said with a wave. He watched Y/N disappear around the building before making his way back to his Impala and driving away.

Three months into working for David’s shop, Dean had managed to learn a few things about Y/N. She loved classic rock, the Doors, 13th Floor Elevators and Zeppelin being her favorites. One of those three was always playing in her office. She was just as good as any one else in the shop at working on cars. She filled in when other mechanics called out or were on vacation. She also had a few of her own regulars who only would let her work on their cars. Her favorite color was Y/F/C and she loved rainy days. He also never once saw her wear a shirt with her actual name on it, only ones with Bud. 

Christmas time had rolled around and the company holiday party was on a Saturday night at a local pizza parlor. Everyone was allowed to bring their families or partner with them and Dean was anxiously waiting to see it Y/N would bring anyone with her. He’d never heard her talk about anyone at work. Never even saw her take a phone call to anyone but customers or vendors. No one stopped by to see her either. Just customers.

In the back seat of the Impala Dean had a gift for Y/N. It was a scarf in her favorite color. He had picked a scarf because sometimes, when he’d stop by her office to say good morning, she had the collar of her shirt pulled up. He asked her why and she said it was always cold in her office in the winter time. It was practical but also thoughtful. 

Dean walked into the pizza parlor. It was nice and warm inside so he shrugged off his jacket and straightened out his plaid shirt. He surveyed the room until he saw some of his co-workers, including David, in the very back. They all threw their heads back in laughter. Beer pitchers were empty on the table but not for long. Soon he saw Y/N walking over, gripping the handles of four beer pitchers, two in each hand. She spread them out across the table before turning towards the door. Her eyes landed on Dean and she smiled. She waved enthusiastically at him and made her way through the crowd.

“Dean!” She said, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Dean smiled, the smell of her shampoo tickling his nose. “Pizza and beer at the table already. I’ll grab you a cold glass.”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, I’ll go get it,” Dean protested.

“I’m going back up there to grab my dad another soda, I’ll grab it. Join everyone else.” She smiled and walked away towards the counter. He watched her go, her steps a little jagged from the beer she’d been drinking. He smiled to himself and approached the table.

Everyone greeted Dean cheerfully. He was introduced to everyone’s guests they had brought with them and he did his best to keep up with everyone’s names and which kids belonged with which couple. A beer was set down in front of him. He looked up to find Y/N standing above him. He smiled and thanked her. She sat down in the empty seat next to him with her own beer.

“I got us special ones. It’s actually my favorite from a local brewery. I hope you like IPAs.” She put the glass to her lips, taking a generous drink. “Try it!” She smiled at Dean, making his heart flutter. 

He complied, his eyes growing large. “This is really good!”

“Told ya,” she smirked. “Pizza?” Y/N put two big slices of pizza on a plate and sat it down in front of Dean before he could answer. She then helped herself to some as well. Dean couldn’t help but smile. A girl who liked pizza and beer. There she goes, he thought, checking more things off my list. A list he didn’t even realize he had until he’d met her.

As the night wore on, people started leaving. A few of the kids had crawled into the laps of their parents and fallen asleep. Their group got thinner and thinner until it was just Dean, Y/N and her dad.

“I’m heading home, Bud.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Dean, thanks for coming.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Can you make sure, Y/N gets home okay? She walked here and it’s kind of late.” David eyed his daughter who was sipping on another beer.

“Definitely, sir.” 

As everyone left, Dean turned to Y/N. “Are you ready to head home?”

“I guess…” Y/N trailed off. She was lost in thought for a second. She downed the rest of her beer. “Alright, let’s go.” She stood up and lurched towards Dean, putting her hands onto his chest to catch herself. Dean instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps.

“Whoa there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I am definitely a little bit buzzed.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks growing red.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean assured her.

Dean lead Y/N out to his Impala and opened the door for her. He let her get in on her own, his hand close by just in case she needed it. 

“Oh! I’m honored to get a ride in Dean Winchester’s Impala,” she remarked. She looked up at him from the passenger seat, an enormous grin on her face. Dean couldn’t help but think she looked perfect in the passenger seat, as if she was always meant to be its passenger.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of Y/N’s house. It was a modest home in a nice neighborhood. All of the homes were older, built in the 50’s. Y/N’s was light green with a white porch and steps. Her F100 was parked in the drive way. It was the only car there, Dean observed.

“Do you want to come inside?” Y/N’s invitation caught Dean off guard.

“We won’t wake anyone up?” Dean posed the question carefully. He was prying for an answer, but didn’t want to be too obvious that he was trying to figure out if she was taken or not.

“Nope. This is my place. Just me. Party of one.” She smiled, her eyes slightly glassy.

Dean hesitated a moment. He got his answer but since Y/N had been drinking, he didn’t want her or her dad to get the wrong idea about him taking her home and ending up inside her house. He did want to give her the gift he’d gotten her though. “Okay. I have a gift for you.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really? I actually have something for you, too,” she said quietly.

Dean smiled and his heart, again, leaped forward, always in the direction of Y/N. “Let’s get inside, it’s getting cold.” Dean got out of his Impala, grabbed the gift box from behind his seat, and then walked around to open Y/N’s door. He held out his hand to assist her. She took it, squeezing his slightly as she hoisted herself out of the car. 

He followed her up to the door, she fumbled with her keys, first using the wrong one. “Oops, that’s my dad’s. They look the same as mine. Here it is!” The door creaked as she opened it. She stepped in side. “Welcome to my humble little home.” She gestured for Dean to come inside.

Y/N’s house had all hardwood flooring and was accented with Y/F/C, her favorite, and smelled like cinnamon. She walked over to the small Christmas tree she had in the corner and turned its lights on. The lights were white and the ornaments were all different kinds. There was no theme to her tree, just random ornaments she liked, ones that reminded her of people, places, and things. She grabbed one of the presents from under the tree. 

“Let’s sit on the couch and open them together.” She made her way to her couch and plopped down. She patted the cushion beside her, beckoning Dean to sit with her.

As soon as he sat down, Y/N shoved his gift from her into his lap. “Open it! I’m terrible at keeping secrets when it comes to gifts.” The grin on her face was bigger than he’d ever seen it before. 

He chuckled as he unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a few things. First was a nice, heavy duty travel coffee mug with his name on it. “So the guys at the shop know it’s yours” Y/N said through a laugh. One time, Dean and another mechanic had gotten their coffees mixed up. The other mechanic liked his coffee extremely creamy and sweet, Dean liked his black. Y/N had witness them both spit out each others coffee all over the shop floor. Next was a picture of Dean’s Impala in front of David’s shop. It was from a low angle, the car taking up the foreground with the shop’s sign hovering over it. There were raindrops on the Impala and the sky above was dark and angry. He looked at it in awe. It was a beautifully crafted shot.

“I thought it was a neat picture,” Y/N said quietly with a shrug.

“Did you take this?” Dean turned to her, awestruck. She nodded her head, a small, closed mouth smile on her face. “I love it. It’s… it’s a really beautiful shot. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Y/N smiled. “There’s one more thing in there.”

At the bottom of the box was a black mechanics jacket with Dean’s name on it. He pulled it out and turned it around to reveal the shop’s name on the back.

“That one is from my dad and me. Only he and I have one. And now you,” Y/N half whispered.

Dean turned to her, overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity she, and her dad, had shown him. They took a chance hiring him and now, they were giving him a jacket, something that clearly held a special meaning for the two of them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’re so happy to have you be part of the shop family.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean taking in his gifts and Y/N watching him. He gently placed his gifts back into his box before handing Y/N hers.

“Now I feel like I should have gotten you a little more…” Dean trailed off.

“No,” Y/N said, dragging out the O’s, and waving Dean’s remark off with her hand. She pulled the bow off of the decorative box and popped the lid off. She pulled out the Y/F/C scarf Dean had picked out. She ran her hands over it, taking in how soft the fabric was. She wrapped it around her neck and looked up at Dean. “You remembered my favorite color.”

“Of course,” Dean said through a grin, his voice hushed. “Now you won’t be so cold in your office in the mornings.”

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” Y/N pulled the ends of the scarf forward, taking in the details and feeling the warmth around her neck.

She looked up at him, and held his gaze for a moment. Then, she closed the gap between them to place a soft kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, Dean took a deep breath. He’d been wanting to kiss her for months and he didn’t want to stop now.

“It’s late. I should get going.” Dean stood up, gathering up his gift box.

Y/N followed suit, still wearing her scarf as she walked Dean to her door. He stepped out onto the porch and spun around to face her. She was holding onto the door, letting it support her. But not because she had been drinking, no. It was for a different reason. It was because kissing Dean had taken her breath away and made her knees weak. Her hands were trembling and she needed to steady herself, not wanting him to notice what he’d done to her, what he’d been doing to her since they had met in her office months prior. She had been pining for Dean, but she was so sure he had a significant other. There was no way a man as handsome, kind, funny, caring, and… her list went on. But there as no way, so she thought, that a man like Dean was single. 

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Dean’s question pulled Y/N from her thoughts.

“I’d love that.” Her answer was quick, zero hesitation, and Dean noticed.

“Pick you up at 6?”

“I’ll be ready. Casual or fancy?” Y/N questioned.

“Which one would you like?” 

“Casual.”

“Casual it is, sweetheart.” Dean smiled, wished her good night and almost skipped back to his Impala.

Y/N waved to Dean in his car and closed the door, locking it tight behind her. She leaned back against it, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She had a date, for the first time years. And, it was with the man of her dreams.

Tags: @akshi8278​, @notan-applepielife​

There is a pinned post with my Masterlist on my blog. Thank you for reading! 

[thebtswritersclub]

Happy Birthday Aditi!!!!

The BTS Writers Club is here to wish our lovely admin, @ditttiii a very happy birthday! Here’s all the messages we’ve collected, from admins and members alike for Aditi day (January 14)!

Aditi! Happy Birthday! Thank you so much for being an amazing Admin. The network would not be the same without you and all that you do. I mean, just look at the layout! You do so much for us and it’s 1000% appreciated. We’re so lucky to have you! Thank you for being with us from the start and being there to help everything grow. You’re such a valued and loved member and a wonderful friend. I love you so much. Even though this past year was an absolute garbage fire, I hope that next year will be much better. You’re going to do amazing things and I can’t wait to see them! 

- Love, Eva @aroseforyoongi

 PS: Please share more pictures of your puppy

Happy birthday, Adi!!  Babe, you're an amazing person, a marvelous woman and an awesome friend. I wish you the best things in the world, that's what you deserve nothing less. I can't thank you enough for your love and support, always. Know that you'll always have in me a friend and a hype woman. Congratulations, Queen! 

- Danna @unoriginal-username15432

Aditi! Though we have only known one another for a chunk of a year, I can safely say that you are one of the best people I could have met in 2020 and I am so glad I did! I think you have so much to offer the world in both intelligence and charm and you will go so far! Keep your head up through 2021 and never let anyone tell you you cannot do whatever you set your mind to. Keep writing and relaxing and enjoying life. Also, please remember to rest and sleep! Happy Birthday!!! 

- Dean @eternalseokjin

Happy Birthday Aditi! You're so sweet and kind and I hope you have a great birthday!!!

- Donna @untaemedqueen 

Aditi

I hope you have an amazing birthday. You deserve one. You’re so wonderful, sweet, hardworking, intelligent, caring, encouraging, talented, pretty... I could go on forever. In short, you’re awesome & held in high regard. Thank you for being you & thank yo for being a vital part of BTS Writers Club & its admin team. You’re an html goddess & a goddess of kindness and looks. Your presence brightens my day & I look forward to all of our conversations.

So, to BTS Writers Clubs’ resident Goddess, Happy Birthday! 

- Lillia @moccahobi

Hello, luv 

I remember the first time we talked. I had come to you asking for advice because I was thinking about posting on tumblr, and somehow we ended up talking for hours that day. Ever since then, you have been such an amazing and precious friend to me, and I am so incredibly glad that I decided to come out of my shell that day. I am so thankful for everything about you and our friendship, and also for you quite literally dragging me into this net to meet so many other lovely people I have the pleasure of calling my friends as well. I wish you all the best, today and every other day, and never forget that I love you very much! 

- Keri @kerikaaria

happy birthday dearest aditi! i hope that you have the happiest, most wonderful, most magical birthday ever! you deserve everything good and more! sending you all of the love, hugs, and good vibes i can offer!

- Carese @honeyj00ns

Adiiiiii ily!! my lovely waifuuu!!! you work so hard and are so nice!! i married right  keep doing what you love and remember to treat yo'self!!!!

- Dae @birbdae

Lovely! It's your birthday and I would be remiss not to let you know that you are so loved and so appreciated! I hope you have an amazing day with those you love (especially Toto), and get something you were hoping for, be that quality time or a nice gift! Happy Birthday Aditi!

- Day @baepsaetan

Aditi, my love, my darling, my honey, ily. You’re such a good friend and a good wine bibi, i love u muchly and appreciate u. I’d like to thank u from the bottom of my heart for being there for me when i needed u, ty for helping me with my writing and helping me be happy, you truly are the best and there’s only one u. Keep shining u star. Keep being u, you literally are so cute and adorable and pretty like words can’t even describe how amazing u are, happy birthday to u ma love, i hope u have the greatest day bc u deserve it! I can’t offer u a hug rn but i can give u a virtual hug (sending u the biggest virtual hug) i hope it sent!  

- Ellie, signing off w a big big kiss for u @jungkooksbroski

Happy Birthday Aditi!  I hope all your birthday wishes come true on your special day! You have such a hardworking and vivacious personality, it's no wonder why I admire you a lot  I'm glad I can call you a friend of mine and I only want nothing but the best for you

- Gwen @prettyboongi

happy birthday aditi! although we haven't talked all that much, i'm glad to have met you through the net! you are such a caring and loving person and i hope you have the best birthday today and many more amazing birthdays! thank you for being you and happy birthday!

- Ivory @sunkissedjk

Aditi, you have the sweetest soul  and the kindest heart, I love our chats and how helpful you are. You've given me so much confidence, right from the get go. You never stop believing in people and will bend over backwards to help them, even when you're ill. You're so freaking talented, honestly, I just can't praise you enough. Happy birthday my lovely hareem queen, hope you have the best day!

- Ley @pars-ley

Aditi! The beautiful, amazing angel! I'm so glad I have gotten to know you through this net and I'm excited to get to know you better. Thank you for always being available to read my crap and for creating amazing works of fiction. You are one of a kind and the world is so lucky to have you in it! Happy birthday

- Mars @joheun-saram​

Hey Diti Darling, Apparently it's your birthday. Haps Borth! Ok, I know I give you hard time whenever we talk but that's because I am just a big nervous and confused mess all the time. We don't even talk that much. Even with that, I love you very much, as a chaotic sister. I just love seeing your name around. Every interaction I have with you is precious no matter how confused I come out of it. You are so sweet and so loving. I hope that you keep that light and keep growing. May this next year that approaches you is a fruitful one and bring you happiness in what ways that it can. Look up, smile bright.

-Your ever worried brother, Nep. :33 @dawndrms

lovely adi!! i'm so lucky to have met you this summer, because i'm pretty sure you're one of the first desi writers i met on tumblr  i love seeing all your posts on my dash, you're really such a sunshine and happy pill on dumblr and i wish more people saw that. your style of writing is so so so enchanting, something i wish everyone would read. in the net, you're a ray of light on everyone and i can tell that bring you so much energy and liveliness wherever you go. have a lovely birthday aditi appi, and to many more!!

- Noor @papillonsgf

Happy birthday Aditi!! I want to say a massive thank you for everything you do for the net to make it what it is. you are so friendly and helpful, you really make everyone feel so at home there! I'm so happy to have joined and met you. I hope you have a great day because you deserve it xx

- Ru @btsmosphere

Hey Aditi! I just wanted to say, happy birthday from the bottom of my heart! You've made being in here so special, helping me with everything I needed! I remember the first person to say Hello to me in the net was you! You were also the one who told me I was accepted! Your really special to me! So is your hate for Mee6 Thank you so much for everything! I wanted to give you something special for your birthday so I'll be posting Transvaal Daisies very soon! Once again, thank you for everything

- Tailia @namyoongles

Hi Aditi!!! I hope you have a wonderful birthday  I love how sincere and enthusiastic you are and how you’re always hyping us and all our ideas and i hppe your birthday matches how awesome you are

- Tanooki @crystaljins

Happy Birthday lovely Aditi! I hope this year brings a ton of happiness, positive growth, success and prosperity! I’m so happy we got to meet over this net. I love love LOVE gushing about Bollywood movies and Indian music with you and I absolutely love how supportive and helpful and kind you are.  You are awesome, beautiful and just so lovely! I’m so happy that we get to celebrate your birthday together (relatively) and I’m wishing you all the best today and onwards! Cheering you on! Happy Birthday! 

- Yours, Triv @purpletigertaetae

We love you, Aditi! Have an amazing birthday!!!!

All graphics and pictures used made with buckets of love by @kerikaaria

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

The Road Ahead | Adam Milligan x Reader

Words: 2279

Warning: None, except some typos and Adam not being in this one as much.

A/N: How does writing work again? What do you mean I have to type it out? I’m thinking of a series name for this to organize these continuous oneshots. No promises of regular updates. It’s only when I can.

Continuation of [True Winchester Fashion] and [Night at the Museum].

-

The museum director hummed softly to herself as her heels echoed through the empty halls of the building. The exhibit was coming along nicely and her contact had come through and found an actual grimoire. Finally, her years of searching were finally over. If only she had brushed up on her Latin, then she would have had no problem translating it herself. Her senior curator had fallen sick after a week of trying to translate the ancient book, which left the college student rookie to translate. She had kept an eye on you for some time now. She had seen the potential in you, the potential of witchcraft. It takes practice and intelligence to master it and she had only wished the matrilineal side of her family had kept on the tradition of passing down the defunct coven’s knowledge. No matter. Blood of the coven is thicker than water of the womb, as they say. You make your own family.

With each passing week of you translating the grimoire, more incidents had been occurring around town. She wanted to approach you about it, to help you control the power of the book, but it would mean revealing her intentions too soon. She had watched you run in fear when the growing number of creatures had reached the museum. Then, those damn FBI agents had to get involved. They stopped by the museum after you had reported the bodies of the security guards that night and she had to pretend to be a clueless director that had limited knowledge about the objects in the museum and the history they hold.

It would be a matter of time before the grimoire gets out of control.

Exiting the museum, she felt a cold presence behind her. She spun around and saw a woman with the reddest hair, palest skin, and radiating the most powerful energy she had ever felt. The woman’s red lips split into a smile, a chill running down the director’s back telling her that it wasn’t a friendly one.

“Who are you?” she asked, taking a step back.

“Oh, dear. Oh, sweet dearie. You dare mess with magic and not know who I am?” The woman chuckled, taking a step forward. “I’m Rowena, the most powerful witch that ever graced this horrible planet and… the current Queen of Hell.”

“Queen of Hell. You must be joking.”

Rowena stared her down and the director suddenly felt her knees giving out. “I have been told that I have a grim sense of humor, but I do not joke about this. And you, missy, must think that witchcraft is a joke. What was it? Some kind of soul searching, finding out who you are from your family tree? Think you could feel close to them if you get a fancy old book and a cauldron?” she said mockingly. “What’s your name, sweetheart.”

“Joana Faith,” she gasped as the weight on her shoulders lifted.

Rowena hummed. “You. You need to fix this mess. As much as I love chaos, I love organized chaos and I’m not going to let some amature run around with a powerful grimoire like she’s in Harry Potter. You watch yourself, because I will also be watching you, Joana Faith.”

“Alright, alright.” Joana slowly picked herself off the ground. “And what about those FBI agents that have been snooping around? How is all of this going to be explained?”

Rowena rolled her eyes, a mix of irritable fondness in one gesture. “Those boys. They probably already know by now. As long as you set things right, you don’t have to worry about them. You do know how to stabilize that grimoire, right?”

“Well…”

Rowena rolled her eyes again.

-

Adam felt Michael’s presence in the back of his mind, asking to take over. “I can help,” the archangel said. Adam nodded, taking a step back and allowing Michael to take control.

“I don’t know what to do,” you moaned, clutching your head between your hands as eerie figures began to crowd around the windows of your apartment.

Your eyes landed on the grimoire, the leathery surface and crispy pages drawing you in like a magnet. Heat radiated off of the old padlock as your hand drifted closer. There were ancient powers in that book, power to change things, to manipulate them, and to end things. And the grimoire chose you.

You could hear Adam’s voice, but it sounded like you were under water. You couldn’t catch what it was, but you felt your heart pick up in panic. This wasn’t right. This was something that you don’t know about… but maybe you can learn to.

Firm hands gripped your shoulders as you were yanked away from the grimoire. Adam’s hazel eyes were looking down at you, but it didn’t feel like Adam. You still couldn’t understand what he was saying. He frowned, pressing two fingers onto your forehead. Heat spread through your head, brightness filling your vision as if you were pulled out of the ocean.

“Sam and Dean will be coming to deal with the monsters outside, but I need you to focus.” He paused, watching as your eyes still drifted down to the grimoire. “That thing doesn’t call to just anyone, you know.”

As you calmed yourself, so did the noises outside, the dark shadows disappearing from view. Your eyes snapped back to him. “What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear, that you have a gift and a curse,” came a Scottish woman’s voice.

You spun a head around and saw a red haired woman and Joana who looked haggard. The red haired woman rolled her eyes at her.

“Oh, please, you want to be a witch and you can’t even handle teleportation,” she chided. She looked over at you and Adam and smiled. “Hello, Michael. Fancy seeing you here. Playing college student, I see.”

“Rowena,” ‘Adam’ said with a curt nod, “You’re here for the book.”

“Of course I am. Even if the Winchesters deal with those monsters outside, there’ll be more coming if we don’t get that book under control. You,” Rowena sauntered over to you, “How much of the book you’ve read already?”

“Almost all of it,” you said sheepishly.

She hummed, looking almost impressed. A grimoire would be difficult for a beginner, but for someone who had no experience to make it that far into the book is a feat in itself. Maybe you’d be useful to her in the future, or maybe become a potential apprentice.

“Well, you two are glad that I’m here. Listen up, I’m about to give you a Witchcraft crash course and I expect you to pay attention. You wouldn’t want me to visit you when I’m upset. Michael, help those boys outside while I sort this out, would you?”

Adam stood up and gave her a look of warning. “Make sure (Y/n) is safe-”

“Or else what, dearie?” she smirked. There wasn’t much use arguing with the Queen of Hell, especially if it was Rowena Macleod.

He glowered before turning to you. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured you.

You watched him disappear with a small gust, strands of your hair flying out of your face and loose paper flying off the table. “What do you mean by Michael?” you asked Rowena.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? Your boyfriend Adam is the vessel of the archangel Michael,” she said nonchalantly, “but we’ll unpack that later. We’ve got work to do.”

-

There was an energy that coursed through your veins that you never knew was possible. It was invigorating, like you could fly or punch through a wall. Rowena warned you about becoming too power hungry.

“Ambition is good, but too much can kill you,” she said, then added with a smirk, “Unless you find a way to cheat death, I suggest you know your limits first.”

After the incident with the grimoire, everything seemed to go back to normal. Your friend, who the Winchesters had saved from the vampire den also had no recollection, convinced that she was drugged and kidnapped while your other friend was not so lucky in getting out. The two of you mourned all the same, but only you knew how she really died. No one in town even remembered what happened with the disappearances and the killings, except for you and Joana. You now see her in a different light, knowing what her main goal was in creating the Salem witch exhibit. Her talk with Rowena seemed to humble her and she regarded you with a little more respect than she used to. The exhibit was still ongoing, but this time, no dangerous objects for display. No, that grimoire stayed with you after Rowena helped the two of you contain it. It was now imprinted with you and under your care. You didn’t know where to start.

Adam had disappeared that night and no one remembered him, either. It was as if he had vanished along with everything that was unnatural, like some weird fever dream. Rowena had said that he was a vessel to an angel, the archangel Michael of all things. In any other circumstances, you would have had a hard time believing it, but with the grimoire and the monsters and witches that came with it, it was just another piece to the universal puzzle found. Now you know the truth. The things in stories like the werewolves, the vampires, the witches, and even angels and demons, were all real, and there were people that dealt with them within the shadows. They come and go and only a few even notice them. They save lives without any recognition or reward. Hunters, they were called. The Winchesters.

After graduating college, you weren’t sure what you wanted to do. There was the museum library, but it was no longer what you wanted to do. Now that you have discovered witchcraft, you wanted to know what you could do. Maybe you could help people, too, like Adam and his brothers.

You cleared up your desk at the museum as you snacked on the brownies that a senior curator had brought in for your last day. They were sad to see you go, but you told them that you had applied to a museum in the city and wanted to see where you went from there.

“You are always welcomed back here,” one of them said as they hugged you.

Your last stop was the cemetery where your friend had already left flowers. She didn’t talk to you all that much, saying she needed more time with her family and had sought professional help to cope with your mutual loss. Maybe it was for the best. You still blamed yourself for your mutual friend’s death after all.

You turned to leave and was immediately faced with Joana. She had dropped her perky and enthusiastic mask that she had kept up around others and offered a sympathetic smile instead.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” she said, “I didn’t realize that an old leathery book would cause this much trouble. I’m sorry.” She looked around, eyes squinting as the summer sun beamed down on the two of you. “I heard you were leaving town. Good for you. I… there’s another thing I should apologize for.”

It was then you realized that she had a small book tucked under her arm. She pulled it out and handed it over to you. It was worn from constant use, scribbles and rough sketches on every page. Flipping through them, words like wendigo, werewolves, and revenant, stood out.

“It had been left on your desk that night when… the whole thing with the grimoire had been put to rest. I got curious and… I might have borrowed it. I realized it must have been left by those hunters that had helped us,” Joana explained.

“Possibly by Adam,” you muttered, closing the journal.

“Adam. Rowena said that he was a vessel of an angel. Is that true? Did you know?”

You shook your head. “Not sure how much from the Queen of Hell is true but I wouldn’t be too surprised anymore if it was. There is a lot out there that people don’t know about. What about you? What are you going to do now?”

She shrugged. “I could dabble here and there. I think I want to use it to protect this town, though. After everything that happened, I realized the impact of one thing could have on a whole community, especially when it involves things that people don’t believe existed. If those hunters hadn’t come here, hell, even if Adam hadn’t decided to go to school here, who knows what would have happened.”

“Yeah. Makes you think about those that weren’t so lucky. I’m going to try to learn more about this… this whole business with supernatural things. If I have a gift, I should use it, right?”

Joana nodded before stepping back. “Well, good luck. Come back whenever and tell me about what you’ve found. I’m curious, but I don’t think I’m cut out for venturing.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

As you walked towards your car, there was the bittersweet ache in your chest. You had never lived away from home before, the town was practically all you knew. Yet, there was something inside of you that felt that you had the potential to do more and be more than what you were now, and it wasn’t going to change unless you stepped away into something new.

The road ahead was dangerous, but it was better than staying in one spot forever. Maybe one day, you would even run into Adam again.

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

There’ll Be Peace

For @herstarburststories 1541 followers challenge- congratulations, and I hope you enjoy reading this, because I loved writing it.

My prompt was number 6. “Hush, I know they said the end is near.”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jack, Cas, Reader

Wordcount: 2,113

Summary: The world is ending, and on their potential last night on Earth, Dean and the reader find closure.

                    It was one of those nights. Nights you’d had too often for any human being. A last night on Earth. Yeah, you’d heard the speech enough times to have it memorized, and yet, there you were, still alive. Something was different about this one, though. It felt really and truly final. You’d gone over everything you knew countless times, the plan you and Dean, the strategists of the team, had devised, and every time, no matter what you changed, you didn’t see a version where all of you made it out alive.

         You had weighed every choice carefully. Who went where, which of you was going to lay down their life first, who deserved to be saved the most. If you had it your way, the others wouldn’t even be coming. Team Free Will, the universe’s last hope. You had to scoff at that- why was it that when the world was ending (again), it always fell on you to fix it? 

           Your eyes travelled over the figures of your friends. No, your family. You wondered who you’d never see again, which of you would die. You wondered if it was you. You were all gathered in the television room, drinking beers and swapping stories, good memories, hunts gone wrong, trying to laugh and put on a brave face like you weren’t marching to war the next day. Your eyes stopped on Dean.

          Dean. Your best friend, your confidante, the man you’d been in love with for years. He was listening to Sam recount a hunt to Cas that they’d gone on when they were younger, and to everyone else he seemed fine, laughing and smiling, but you knew him better. His heart wasn’t in it. Dean always felt the weight of the decisions to be made so heavily. Every life was always in his hands, every mistake his fault. You’d been trying to convince him otherwise as long as you’ve known the man, but it never seemed to stick on nights like that. You would keep trying anyways. You couldn’t live with yourself if he died tomorrow. All of you understood and accepted that there were no more redo’s, no more resurrections. If you died, that was it. Permanent. Dean and you may have agreed on a plan, but you’d long decided on one of your own, and you weren’t letting any of your friends die.

           As if he sensed your thoughts, Dean suddenly looked up, green eyes looking at you questioningly. You gave a smile, but he lingered for a moment longer, feeling you out in that uncanny way of his. He nodded subtly at last, but you noticed him looking your way more often. Bless that man, he was checking on you. 

                    You’d all said your goodnights- and your goodbyes- and gone your separate ways. You should’ve been sleeping, but the pit in your stomach left you restless, so you pulled on a red-and-white checkered flannel and socks and boots and made your way quietly outside. There was a place to sit that afforded a brilliant view of the stars, and you tilted your head up to the night sky, too lost in thought to truly appreciate what could be the last time you saw such constellations.

              “Hey.” His voice was low and gruff and settled in a soothing way that warmed you to your bones despite the chill in the air. “Did I wake you?” “Nah. Wasn’t sleepin’, figured you’d be out here.” Dean shrugged, sitting beside you closer than usual. He loosed a long and weary breath, and you glanced his way. His brow was furrowed, lips pursed slightly, eyes on the sky as he searched for the right words to say. “I-” You spoke at the same time, laughing slightly and pausing. “Go ahead.” You smiled. “I don’t know what tomorrow is gonna look like, Y/N. I mean-” he laughed wryly a moment, “fighting God? Not exactly optimistic about our odds here.” He stopped again, but you waited patiently. He wasn’t a man of many words, but everything he said was chosen carefully. “Look, we’re a team, right? And that plan was mostly your idea. And I know, I sound like a dick, but- I wish you wouldn’t go. I don’t- I don’t want you to be there when something goes wrong, Y/N.” Dean swallowed.

                “Dean. You think I want any of you walking into this? Sam has been sure this will work, but you and I... we both know we’re not all coming back home this time. I want to ask you to stay, for my own selfish reasons. But we have a job to do.” You replied, eyes sad. He nodded solemnly, and as those beautiful green eyes met yours, you felt a million missed opportunities flash before your eyes. All those years and you’d never told him. “We pull this off, you think the world is gonna be different?” You asked, leaning into him as his arm went over your shoulders. “I hope so. Imagine; a world without monsters.” He chuckled. “Sounds too good to be true.” “What are you gonna miss the most?” “What, about hunting?” “The way things are. I know we’re not supposed to talk about what happens if this is it, but... I’m going to be thinking about it all night anyways.” “Me too. I dunno. Driving in Baby all over the country. Pissing off Sam. Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’ll miss Cas zapping in randomly. Jack’s candy binges. Nights like this with you. Y’know, when it’s not the end of the world.” He joked. “What about you?” He asked, looking down at you with more warmth than you’d seen from him in a long time. “The excitement. I’ll miss the adrenaline rush of decapitating vampires. Teaching Cas and Jack board games. Researching with Sam.” “What, not gonna miss me?” He was joking, but there was something in his eyes that told you he needed to hear more than teasing.

              “There are too many moments I’ll miss with you to pick one.” You told him. It was the most honest you’d allowed yourself to be in a while, and his expression changed. Sadness, pain, regret- all of it there in the stern slope of his brow, the tightness of his jaw. But you’d always been a believer that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and Dean’s had to be the most expressive and beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. He looked at you the way artists looked at their muses, like poets to blank pages and ink, pioneers and conquerors to vast, untouched lands. Looked at you saw all the great perhaps’ and endless maybe’s he’d let pass by, undiscovered and unrevealed. You were his Magnum Opus, the greatest masterpiece of his life, his proudest achievement, just having you by his side and loving you in the deep but quiet way of his was worth more than all the things he’d done. “Y/N, I-” “Hush, I know they said the end is near, but I’m not ready to say goodbye.” You interrupted. He swallowed hard, green eyes glossy. Dean nodded. “Ok. Ok, no goodbyes.” He agreed. You were both silent, Dean pulling you into his chest and holding you tight, like you might vanish before his eyes. You gripped at the cloth of his canvas jacket, breathing him in, that scent of motor oil, whiskey, and gunpowder that was as much a home to you as the man himself.

            “I’ll miss long drives with you and the same cassettes over and over, music so loud we can’t even hear Baby’s engine,” you began, heart pulled in two directions in a war of both wanting and not wanting to say all the things you should’ve said years ago, “and shady motels and sometimes sharing a bed because it’s easier and we sleep better that way.” Dean was holding to your every word. “And I’ll miss getting pissed at pubs, or just having a glass or two to celebrate or numb it after a hunt. I’ll miss how you check on me every night and I pretend to be asleep so you don’t spook. I’ll miss your jokes, even the terrible ones that are so bloody awful I have to laugh.” You paused and laughed slightly at that. “I’ll miss your hugs, and stealing your flannels, and staying up all night to watch westerns with you, and I’ll miss hunting with you and feeling safe because I know you have my back,” you exhaled shakily, wetting Dean’s jacket with tears, “but most of all I’ll miss those moments when you’re next to me and the world goes quiet and calm, and even when everything else is chaos, just having you there is more than enough to keep going for me. I’ll miss the way you feel like home.”

             Your heart was pounding- he was quiet, and without being able to see his face, you had no idea what was going through his head. Dean pulled back, though his hands still curled into your shirt. You were trying to read him, anxiety settling like a weight on your chest, and then he smiled. Another thing you’d miss, that charming, sincere, toothy smile of his. His face got serious again, the bright smile fading, but his eyes didn’t dim even a fraction, still warm and filled with something that looked like hope. One of his calloused hands cupped your cheek, and he leaned in slowly, like you were a wild animal he was afraid to startle. Your world simultaneously imploded and came together to a single focal point when his lips met yours. It wasn’t fireworks, there weren’t swooping butterflies in your stomach, it wasn’t the exciting freshly minted feeling of a first kiss, even though it was the first time he’d kissed you. You’d known him a long time, loved him even longer, and kissing Dean was familiar in an intimate way, like opening the well-worn cover of a beloved book, something that felt right, whole, a warmth that went all the way to your soul and the marrow of your bones. You knew him, you knew him in every way possible, and kissing him was like remembering every moment you’d spent together before, all those quiet moments when he was your anchor, the laughter shared, the times when he said everything without saying anything at all. Kissing Dean Winchester wasn’t a thrilling ride or an adrenaline rush. Kissing Dean Winchester was a homecoming that had been long delayed.

            Dean rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed and one hand still on your cheek. “You said no goodbyes.” He murmured. “I know. I just needed you to know.” “I already know, Y/N. All my life, home has been something I carry with me. Didn’t bother making one ‘sides in Baby until the Bunker. You are home, Y/N. The only steady thing in my life, even when Sam is gone, you’re still here, and damn if I haven’t tried to make you leave.” He said with a wry smile. He’d tried his usual methods of acting like a massive douche to get you to go, but unluckily for him, you were stubborn as hell and refused to leave until he was honest with you. “You make me feel normal. I’m not gonna say I’ll miss that, ‘cause you an’ me are gonna be right back here tomorrow night. I will say I’m pissed at myself for not saying anything sooner.” Dean muttered. “You did. We didn’t need words for it.” You smiled. If you didn’t make it out alive, you hoped the last thing you remembered would be his soft smile. Dean kissed you again, tasting like whiskey, not that you minded. 

                 The Bunker was quiet when the two of you made your way inside. Dean held your hand and led you to his room, shedding his jacket while you draped your flannel over a chair and kicked off your boots. His bed was far more comfortable than yours, but you weren’t sure if it was the memory foam or Dean himself. He pulled you into his arms, resting his head in the crook of your neck. Neither of you spoke, but you didn’t have to. There were a few things in life you’d always known to be true. 1. Your gut is never wrong. 2. Those who seek trouble will find it. Number 3. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole. But two new truths formed at the exact same time- 4. Dean Winchester loved you. Dean Winchester was in love with you, and you loved him, too.

                   And Number 5.

          None of you were dying tomorrow.

TAGS-

Forever Tags-

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Dean Babes-

@herstarburststories

[tearsofgrace]

Thrown Back In Time

Dean started as if from a dream, and the walls of the barn came into focus all around him. Sigils painted everywhere, and the metallic smell of paint still clinging to the air. He ran a hand slowly through his hair, trying to process what had happened. One minute, he’d been in the bunker, researching ways to take down Chuck, and the next he was here. He knew exactly where he was, he wouldn’t soon forget this place. But why? And how? And most importantly--

“You alright, boy?” He turned his head and saw Bobby standing in the corner, touching up one of the symbols on the wall.

“Yeah, just, uh--”

“Dean, we’re going to figure this out. Whatever evil son of a bitch did this to you, he’s gonna die.”

Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The only way this could have happened was Chuck. Chuck messing with his little toys again, playing his stupid game. And the one thing they knew for sure about Chuck was that he wanted his happy ending. He wanted the boys to play their part, to play along. So, if he was getting out of this, then he had to play along. 

Bobby did the ritual and they waited. Dean remembered saying something, mouthing off to Bobby last time, the first time. But there was no need. He knew he did the ritual right. He knew the angel of Thursday was coming. 

The barn overhead started shaking and he glanced at Bobby to make sure he was alright. This place, this moment, he thought about it more than he cared to admit. The first time he was here, he was so lost. Scared, confused, alone. But not willing to admit any of it. He didn’t want to be like that Dean. The Dean that locked up his emotions and pushed away his family. Was that what Chuck was trying to show him? How weak he’d become?

Sparks flew as the lights exploded and the barn doors were flung open to reveal Castiel. But not his Castiel. He struggled to focus on that thought. This Castiel was a soldier. An angel who followed orders and would slaughter him without a second thought. This Castiel did not care about Dean. 

As the angel walked toward them, he saw Bobby raise his shotgun, and he hurried to do the same, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything. Appearances had to be maintained. 

Bobby cast a nervous look at Dean when Castiel kept walking, unbothered by the storm of lead. Dean set his shotgun aside and picked up the demon knife.

“Who are you?” he asked, even though he knew. He knew better than anyone else.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” Dean had to fight to keep the smile off his face. Cas had been such a tightass. 

“Yeah, well, thanks for that.” He lunged forward and plunged the knife into Castiel’s chest. And it hurt. Even though he knew it would do nothing, he still stabbed his best friend.

And maybe it was the shock that broke the dam repressing his feeling, but the next words out of his mouth were not him playing a part. 

“Damn, that’s still hot.” The angel peered at him and tilted his head, and Dean knew he had screwed up whatever plan Chuck had. But there was something too familiar in the tilt of his head, something soft in his eyes that Dean was just seeing. None of that had been there before they met, before they developed their “profound bond” or whatever you want to call it.

“Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Why-- how are you--” Cas trailed off, and then looked at Dean with an accusing glare.

“You stabbed me!” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that.”

“Why did you stab me if you’re you you?”

“What was I supposed to do? I thought we were supposed to play our parts or whatever. Why did you do the whole thunder and lightning show?” Cas rolled his eyes but let his lips fall into a smile. 

“Dean, what the hell is going on? Do you know him?” Bobby was standing there, shotgun still fixed on Castiel’s chest, staring at Dean in bewilderment. 

“That’s a long story, um, he’s, uh, an ex?” 

He ignored Cas’ pointed stare, along with the muttered, “I’m gonna send your ass back to hell,” that went with it. 

Before Bobby could respond, Cas reached his arm out and put two fingers on his forehead, sending him straight to sleep.

“An ex?”

“Whatever, Cas, I was scrambling.”

They looked at each other and shrugged, and Dean couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to Cas’ hair. It was as messy and beautiful as it had been the first time they met. 

“So, we’re back,” Cas said, trying to meet Dean’s eyes unsuccessfully. 

“Yeah, what do you want to change?”

“Change?”

“Chuck must have some reason for sending us back here, right? Maybe we’re supposed to change something.”

“Oh, right.”

“So, let’s go find him. Kick his ass.” Cas rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Yes, because I’m sure he didn’t predict we would do that. He sent us back Dean, he’s off limits. Why don’t we go take care of Ruby?”

“Ruby? Oh, shit, Ruby. Yeah, okay.”

They walked together out of the barn, leaving Bobby lying there (Dean had protested but Cas insisted he would be sleeping for over a week, and besides, he had placed protection over the barn and it was covered with enough sigils to protect New York City) and made their way to the Impala. 

“Hi, Baby, you miss me?” Dean said, happily running his hand over her hood. 

“Dean, you drove her yesterday.”

“Right.”

They drove together in silence, neither one quite sure what to say in such a situation. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. They always found solace in one another’s company. 

They reached the motel Sam had been staying at (thank Chuck Cas had a vice-like memory, Dean would never have remembered) and stood outside his room. 

“What are we even gonna say?” Cas tilted his head, considering for a moment. 

“It’s Ruby we’re after. We don’t need to say anything to Sam.” Dean nodded before knocking twice on the door. But instead of his oversized, incredibly dumb baby brother, he was greated by a short man with a scruffy beard. An impossibly infuriating man, who wasn’t actually a man at all. 

“Hey guys! Cas, looking great. Dean, good to see you. Come on in!”

“Chuck,” Dean growled, going for his gun. 

“Nope, none of that, Dean,” Chuck said, and with a wave of his hand sent the gun flying away. With another wave of a hand, Dean and Cas were sitting in chairs opposite each other, both unable to move. 

“What the hell is this?” Dean said. Cas just sat there, silently glaring daggers at the father he had once placed so much faith in. 

“The best part of my story.” 

“What?” Dean’s confusion was mounting by the second. Chuck had never made sense, but even for him, this was a little out there.

“It was never supposed to happen, actually. My design was always about the brothers. Sam and Dean, saving the world. I mean Cas was going to be part of it. But not like this.”

“Cut the bullshit.” Dean looked at Cas appraisingly. Never thought he’d hear those words out of his guardian angel’s mouth. 

“Aw, Cas, you shock me. You and Dean. It was never supposed to happen. But I don’t control my characters feelings, not entirely anyway. But now that it has happened, it could be the perfect addition. The epic love story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. But you two are the most stubborn characters I’ve ever worked with and if I didn’t intervene you would keep swallowing your feelings until even I ceased to exist.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean tried to keep his voice steady but his ears were tinged pink. Of course Chuck knew he had fallen for Cas. He was God. But Cas didn’t know, and now their friendship was going to come crumbling down. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, desperate to not look at the angel he had fallen for. Desperate to avoid the disgust he knew would be on his face. 

“So, I brought you back here,” Chuck went on, ignoring the interruption. “Where it all started. Hoping that would spark a conversation. And you decide to go after the demon chick? She barely mattered to the story anyway! But, I have you here now, so, who wants to go first?”

Cas didn’t speak, and Dean was determined to keep his mouth shut too. His gaze was still fixed on the floor, and he was sure his entire face was bright red by now. 

“Castiel, why don’t you go first?” Chuck snapped his fingers. “Don’t worry, just a little truth spell to help you along. Castiel, are you in love with Dean?”

It was a whisper, spoken in shame. So low Dean could barely hear it, but he did. And it set his heart pounding. “Yes.”

Chuck laughed. A cruel, condescending, laugh. “And Dean, are you in love with Cas?”

He could feel the words being torn from his throat. He struggled to keep his voice low, but it came out as a shout. “Yes.”

“Good. Now that we have that taken care of, you can go back to trying to defeat me. You can’t win, Dean Winchester. You see, I always get my way. The perfect story. Even when you think you can win, can develop something like this that I never saw coming. I control it all in the end.”

They were whisked back to the bunker, Dean’s head still spinning. It finally hit him that Cas had said yes. He had said he was in love with Dean. But it must have been Chuck, forcing a lie out of him. 

They both awoke, sitting at the table. Sam was gone, and Jack was too. Dean made eye contact with Cas for the first time since they’d run into Chuck. He felt like he was in a lightning storm, peering into that blue, but he also felt safe. It was so clear, so bright. He couldn’t stop the blood rushing to his cheeks. 

“Dean. Did you mean it?” The angel’s voice was hurt and timid, and Dean finally let his mind open to the possibility that this wasn’t one of Chuck’s schemes. 

“Yes,” he said simply, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

And then Cas was standing, pulling him up into an embrace. Their arms stayed wrapped firmly around each other as their lips pressed together. The world spun and happiness filled Dean’s whole soul. His hands lifted to Cas’ cheeks and he gently cupped the angel’s face.

“I love you Castiel,” he said, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I love you too.”

Inspired by this post (x)

people who said they wanted someone to write it tagged below :)

@illbewithhimlikeishouldbe @idabbleincrazy​ @franthehorsegir @belabee @super-powerful-queen-slayyna @starlightcastiel @jhoomwrites

[dannifielding]

In which Cas catches Amelia

So, this idea came to me this morning, and so I had to write it up. This is set somewhere at the beginning of Season 6. 

Light sexual content and a little bit of fun.

Hope you like it ^_^

To Castiel, it felt like fighting this war would never end. He believed in the cause he was fighting for. If he had been human, he was sure the phrase was ‘with his whole heart’. As it stood, along with a soul, a metaphorical heart wasn’t something he possessed. His grace was his whole being so he guessed he could use that instead. He wasn’t sure how immutable human sayings actually were.

But it still felt like it would never end. Every small victory he seemed to win was countered by a small loss on his side. Back and forth the two factions fought, one wanting to follow the script and the other wanting the freedom to choose. Now that he had found that freedom, he was never going to let it go, no matter what the cost. No matter how far he fell. They all deserved it, human and angels alike. He just wished everyone could see it.

He hadn’t been down to earth in what felt like eons, but time wasn’t something that really passed in Heaven. Everything just was, or wasn’t, or would be. Still, it felt like eons, and he desperately wanted to head down. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t risk leaving Heaven just for a little jaunt to see the woman he was so enamoured with, no matter how much he wanted to. More and more frequently excuses came up, and now he felt guilty leaving for anything but genuine danger. He missed her terribly, though, and the respite visiting her gave him. She never had any expectations of him. She just enjoyed his company. Even now, the feeling was new and exciting, and very much welcomed. He just wished that he could return the favour more often.

“Cas…”

He paused. He was about to head off to be briefed by some of his higher subordinates, but Amelia’s soft voice reached him before he left. He heard her prayers often as she updated him on their ‘little human lives’ – her words, most definitely, because they were all very large to him. They brought him comfort, and a little amusement, and he was very grateful that she took the time to talk to him. However, this was different. She wasn’t praying to him; she was reaching out to him. The words were coming from her lips but they weren’t being directed to him. It was a very different feeling from a prayer. It felt… It felt desperate.

He hesitated only slightly, until the next breathy sound of his name reached him, and he was instantly down on Earth, briefings and wars be damned. She needed him, she was in danger, and he wasn’t going to stand around and let her get hurt. He was going to save her. The whole war was pointless if she wasn’t there to be saved as well.

He appeared in a dark hotel room, angel blade already out and ready to fight whatever was hurting Amy. There was no sign of danger, or struggle. There were no monsters, no angels, no demons. In fact, he realised, that it was rather late at night and the whole area was calm with humans either sleeping or getting ready to sleep.

Except Amelia, who was in bed, breath panting and she breathed his name again. She was alone, and in the dark, and he couldn’t quite work out what was happening or why she had needed him so much that it had reached him in Heaven.

Or, in fact, what the buzzing noise was that came from the bed with her.

He lowered his blade and watched for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening. She barely moved on the bed, eyes closed, mouth open as she continued to pant his name. He had never seen her do that before, perhaps she was unwell, perhaps.

“Shit, shit, Cas…” she moaned out loud before biting her lip.

He felt a little foolish, and suddenly rather stunned, to realise that she wasn’t in trouble at all. And as her back arched, and she swore a few more times, he realised that she hadn’t been desperate for him out of pain, but out of pleasure.

It took a moment, but the buzzing stopped, and she fell back onto the bed, and he didn’t know what to do. He knew that this was a rather private time for humans, and he felt like he shouldn’t have been watching. But he couldn’t help it. He could feel the pleasure that she was feeling, the hormones and emotions that had been swirling around inside of her. He had been led to believe that human sexual encounters were messy and full of strange noises and positions. She had just looked beautiful.

Amelia, for a brief moment, enjoyed the aftermath of her orgasm. Nothing was quite the same as the touch of another person, but damn it did really hit the spot. She was so glad that she travelled with Dean and Sam, neither of which would ever go through her bags. And she was even more grateful for her own motel room.

Her eyes were closed, but as always happened she saw the bright glow of angel grace through her eyelids and she quickly sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. She was ready for a fight, as she’d been distracted enough not to see that it was Cas’s grace until she saw the awkward angel in the corner.

She had a few thoughts in her head. First was that she was so happy to see him, because it had been a while since she’d seen him in person and she always worried that something would happen to him. The next was wondering what had brought him down to Earth and if he was immediate danger.

The third was that he’d cause her mid-act, but she didn’t want to think about that, so she forced that out and stood up out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around her into a makeshift dress, quickly stashing her favourite toy underneath the pillow for dealing with after he’d left.

“Cas!” she greeted, brushing over what she had been doing. “I wasn’t expecting… Is everything alright? Are you hiding? Is—” she glanced at the door. “Are you being chased?”

“No, I’m fine,” he dismissed as he always did. “You called out for me.”

She frowned for a moment, because she certainly hadn’t called for him. Then she blanched slightly as she realised that she actually had. “Oh? I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you, if you were busy.” She spotted the angel blade in his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He nodded once but didn’t answer her straight away, but he was curious and he wasn’t sure how to ask her. “Were you masturbating?” He knew it was a delicate subject for humans, and the way her eyes widened suggested he hadn’t broached it in the best manner. “You called out for me in pleasure,” he explained, hoping the help. “I didn’t realise at first, I thought you were in danger.”

She turned her head to look at the bed. “No, no, I did do that,” she agreed softly before turning back to him. She wondered how to delicately explain what she had been doing to him without both freaking him out, and feeling more embarrassed than she already did, but she quickly realised that subtly was going to go right over his head.

So, she took a deep breath, put her big-girl pants on and nodded. “I was, yes,” she told him. “And, I guess, I was a bit louder than I meant to be. Sorry about that.”

“Were you thinking about me?” he asked, against sounding curious rather than judgemental. She did adore that about him; he just always wanted to seem to want to know more about humans and how they worked. So, she nodded. “Why?”

Well, that was a loaded question, wasn’t it? “Um…” she said, stalling slightly as she tried to work out the best answer. Starting from the very top was probably for the best. “Because I fancy you,” she explained kindly, taking his free hand in hers. “And because humans, as a whole, crave contact with others they care about. It’s not always sexual, of course. I mean, I love hugs from Dean, and sometimes I kiss Uncle Bobby on the cheek when I’m feeling fond of him, and…” She shook her head, trying stop herself rambling. “What I mean is, it doesn’t always have to be sexual, but for a lot of people it is. And I, lucky for you—” she gave his arm a little, cheeky tug, “-am a rather horny person. When I hurt, I have sex. When I’m happy, I have sex. And when I fancy you and want to jump your bones, well, I like to have sex too.”

He looked down at their joined hands. He did like the feel of her hand in his, and he had been rather surprised and delighted when they’d first started kissing. He could see the appeal of wanting to be close to someone. “And you want to, as you say, ‘jump my bones’?”

She could hear the little bit of mirth in his voice that said that understood, at least a little, of what she meant. “Very much so,” she replied boldly, a grin on her face that fell into a kind smile. “But we are definitely not there yet, and that means, being the horn-dog that I am, I have to take it into my own hands-on occasion to relax myself. Apparently I’ve just never been that loud before, so I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you into my human problems like this. I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he promised her and she looked immediately grateful at his words. He was glad, but her explanation kept his brows furrowed. “Are you disappointed that we don’t engage in that side of a relationship together?”

“Am I disappointed that we’re not having sex?” she asked in clarification and he nodded. “Yeah, a bit,” she admitted. “Am I disappointed with you? Definitely not.” She let go of his hand to cup his cheek. “Cas, I am not disappointed on where we are,” she promised. “This is so new to you, I never expected to just jump into bed straight away. I mean, humans have so many years to explore their feelings, you’ve only had free will for, what, a few years? I would rather never have sex at all rather than force you into something that might not even be something you ever want.”

Her touch on his skin felt wonderful, and his heart – which suddenly he was convinced he had – swelled with pure affection for her. “You did look very satisfied,” he admitted.

She shrugged. “I’m very good at what I do,” she bragged before pausing, a smirk spreading onto her face. “How long were you watching me for, exactly, Cas?”

“I wanted to make sure you were not in danger,” he replied, his eyes dimming just slightly and telling her that he wasn’t being wholly truthful with her.

“You don’t need to be shy,” she continued, deciding to tease him just a little bit. “Did you like what you saw?”

Being able to make Cas flush held a special place in her heart, and flush he did. “I have never seen you like that, before. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

She took that as a positive, and internally felt a little hope for her sex life. She made sure that her sheet was secure, then took his hand back in hers to swing lightly. “How about this,” she started. “Next time the mood takes me, I’ll let you know? Then you can come have a look and see how you feel? You don’t even have to be visible, if it makes you more comfortable.”

His brows furrowed, his confused look back on his face. “Would that not embarrass you?”

She shook her head. “Nah,” she dismissed. “I was in a porn movie once; it doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?” he asked, very surprised. She thought asking him about how he knew what porn was best left for another night.

She shrugged. “It was when I first started college. I was just in the background making out with a couple of women, but there were a lot of people and cameras. Which, I admit, isn’t exactly the same as being watched whilst I’m masturbating, but you see my point.”

He was still so amazed by her openness, and he hoped that the war raging above them would allow him to come see her. “I will bare that in mind,” he told her. “But, as you are not in danger, I have to go.”

She sighed, exaggerating the noise to hide how disappointed she actually was. “Will you come back soon?”

“As soon as I can,” he promised “May I kiss you before I leave? Or will that ‘rile’ you up too much?”

Her mouth fell open slightly as he looked amused at his own cheek. “Why you…” she started before laughing. She chucked her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss where she could feel the smile on his face, one that matched her own. A kiss they both wanted to last for a lot longer than it did, and a kiss they both very much needed.

Then he was gone, leaving her alone in her sheets. She pulled them tighter around her, now feeling colder than she had done before she’d spotted him. She turned to face her bed, where her favourite toy sat underneath the pillow. She sighed heavily to herself and pushed her sadness and concern over the angel that had burrowed his way into her heart away in favour of cleaning up so she could get some sleep.