#soft Michael!Dean

[gilverrwrites]

first time requester here uhhh could you pretty please with cherries on top do tfw (and maybe gabe or Lucifer? up to you though!) reacting to reader being like, REALLY quiet in bed? Like they’re not holding back or anything, they just genuinely don’t make much noise?

Rating: 18+

Please remember: As long as you're trying, you're doing better than you think.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

Dean: Unless you specify that making noise is a boundary for you, he will see it as a challenge. He’ll find things, moves you like and hammer them over, and, over again to try and get some noise out of you. Or he’ll ask you lots of dirty questions during the deed. High praise, when you do make noise, like he’s trying to condition more noise. He just needs some kind of queue that he’s doing a good job, encouragement, like a dog being told he’s a good boy.

If you state it’s a limit, he’ll respect that, but he needs some other indicator, like red-light/green-light, or some form of physical touch meant to convey a job well done. 

Sam: Won’t really bat an eyelid at it. He’s a very accepting person, and he likes you for you, noisy or not.

If you express to him that you’d like to be noisier in bed, he will happily assist. Asking how you’re doing; how does that feel? What about this? No, no, not until you show me how much you want it. Repeating things he’s learned will get a reaction out of you.

Otherwise, he’ll keep on ploughing as is.

Castiel: If you’re normally a very vocal/noisy person in day-to-day life, he’d be concerned. He’ll worry that he’s done something wrong. When he confronts you and you tell him you’re good, you’re just quiet, he’ll feel so much relief, you’ll see the weight lift from his shoulders. Bless him, he gets stressed.

If you’re not normally a very vocal/noisy person, then he likely won’t notice. There are many, many humans, and they are all strange and unique, and this is just part of who you are.

He is quite chatty in bed however, he likes to express how he is feeling, how you make him feel, and he likes to check on you, so unless you’re happy to have little check ins/chit chats mid sex, you’ll need to express your boundaries.

Gabriel: Very similar to Dean. Evoking noise from you is a game, and he’s determined to master it. Even if that means underhanded tactics. Laughter is just as good, there will be tickling. He will playfully withhold or deny you touches or kisses to make you beg ask for them. Oh, that one little touch made you moan a teeny tiny bit? WE’RE DOING THAT AGAIN!

If you state that it’s a boundary, that’s cool, cool, cool. He can make enough noise for the both of you, he’s a soft, chatty, moaning, mess of an angel in the throws anyway.

Lucifer: Honestly, he probably won’t even notice at first. Like Gabe, he will make enough noise for the both of you. He loves the sound of his own voice, and he often gets lost in the feelings and his own emotions throughout. When he does eventually notice, he’d tease you about it. The ideal reaction is for you to get all shy and frustrated about it, but any provoked response is likely satisfying, he just likes to know he’s having an effect on you.

Michael: Is also very quiet in bed, in fact, he prefers it. His mind is very busy (especially when Adam is in there) and he enjoys being able to turn it off. He just does what feels good. There is no need to perform, and the fact that you respond the same is very validating for him. He will not question, tease, or try to provoke an inauthentic response from you. He will accept you as you are.

[kaleldobrev]

Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

[shallowseeker]

I'm breaking this one out by itself because it's a little funny.

*Dean's phone rings*

*Dean answers without looking*

*Dean proceeds to yell at Cas*

Ah, right. What could possible be so important?

/////

Sam goes on to tell Dean that *drumroll* Sam is Lucifer's true vessel.

WOW! Scary!

DEAN: *sarcastically* Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh Sammy? SAM: That's it? That's your response?

It's... completely lost of Sam, though, the REASON for Dean's sarcasm.

See. It's this: now that Sam's found out that HE'S a vessel, he's in his car, an absolute FIRE lit under his goddamned tail, EAGER to get back in and fight.

Sam.

SAMMY.

🤦🤦🤦🤦

Dean throws a hint.

DEAN: *sarcastically again* I guess I'm a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point. SAM: Well what are we gonna do about it?

And Sam... still doesn't get it.

Sigh.

Here's the thing. Sam wasn't panicking when they learned that Dean was a vessel. Only Cas and Bobby were panicked and stressed. They were mean, but they were at least aware of the reality of things.

But Sam.

Yes, Sam was going through things, struggling with things, and taking time to go through things is okay. But on the other hand, it definitely still hurts that Sam wasn't insisting on staying in the fight on Dean's behalf, to protect Dean from becoming a vessel.

But now that Sam's learned that he's a vessel?

Boom.

It's not even that, though. It's this whole conversation.

Because what's missing here? Empathy for Dean's plight.

Sam doesn't realize that this is why he's perpetually at... the kids' table. This right here.

In this whole conversation, Sam is eaten up with ranting about his own feelings, about how he's sick of being a puppet, and how he's going to hunt Lucifer down and gain redemption.

Sam's all about "how he can do this," how he's "gonna prove it to you."

It makes him seem a lot younger than he is.

....

There's no acknowledgment of how helpless Dean must have been feeling all this time, knowing that he's been targeted by an archangel, about how scary this whole thing is.

Hell, even Cas acknowledged Dean's fears re: Michael.

I mean: He did it in his Cas way, but it still acknowledged the enormity of the fear.

Cas:

///

Meanwhile, Sam back in 5x01, right after DEAN learned about being Michael's vessel: Geez, why is everyone so cranky and stressed?

🥺Dean, what do you mean that you didn't mean your pep talk to Bobby? Whaaaat? 🥺

///

....

And the thing is. Not "getting it"? That's understandable. But this conversation is just... devoid of support for Dean.

And they're not. Sam's zapping all the strength for himself.

When they've been together lately, Dean is the big brother who lends support, and Sam isn't giving anything back. Sam's out to prove himself, not to support others.

And they tell older siblings and parents to be patient, to let them learn, to step back and forgive, to be "a soft place to land."

That's hard to do. And it's exhausting.

And aside// Sam's apology to (demon) Bobby was SO MUCH NICER. Sam, where is this humility and energy for other people????

SAM: No, actually. Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry. Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal. I killed her, and I set Lucifer free. You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on. I'm sorry.

[loveinhawkins]

The RV careens out of the trailer park and hits the open road with what pretty much amounts to ‘all speed, no grace.’ The turn Steve makes is, quite frankly, abysmal; he’s sure that if his driving instructor could see him now, the poor man would be weeping in distress.

Yet his passengers erupt into cheers as they pass the Leaving Hawkins sign, like he’s pulled some kind of James Bond move.

And, for all his insistence on being the absolute antithesis to so-called ‘jock culture’, Eddie rushes over to the driver’s seat, starts squeezing Steve’s shoulder with decidedly jock-like exuberance.

“Holy shit, holy shit, that was so fucking cool, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s definitely broken through the depression stage of the ‘finding out there’s an alternate dimension in Hawkins’ journey—landing firmly in the fuck it, might as well have some fun stage.

Steve could tell they’d reached that point even before the goddamn ‘big boy’ comment, when Eddie had taken one look at the Michael Myers mask, looked Max dead in the eye and said, “This is gonna be. So fuckin’ stupid. Let’s do it.”

Steve goes through a few seconds more of having his shoulder pummelled before saying, “Dude, you’re doing a shitty job at being undercover, stay down.”

“Like, do you have any idea,” Eddie says breathily, as if Steve hasn’t spoken, “just how perfect that was? That was, God, a childhood dream fully—”

“You dreamed of stealing an RV?” Steve says dubiously.

“Not in such crude literal terms, no. C’mon, Harrington, you must’ve had an imagination once—”

“Hey!”

“—didn’t you ever dream of, like, daring escapes, pulling the sword outta the stone, all that shit?”

Steve thinks about it. “I mean,” he says, “when I was a kid, I just kinda… climbed trees and stuff.”

Eddie sighs as if he can’t decide whether Steve’s done something especially annoying or endearing. “Of course you did.”

They reach a stop sign and Eddie finally flops into the passenger seat, facing Steve like he’s sitting side saddle on a horse.

“So,” Steve says, “I take a right after this, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm, well remembered, Mr Getaway Driver.”

Steve scoffs, glances over—finds Eddie framing him with his index finger and thumb, like a director trying to capture the perfect shot.

“James Dean,” Eddie says authoritatively, dropping his hands.

“What?”

“Was tryin’ to figure it out, your whole look, you know? Very Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “but I have a cause, we all do.”

Eddie just blinks at him, and Steve chuckles.

“You, idiot.”

“Oh.”

Steve has a moment to appreciate the way Eddie’s eyes go all soft and maybe just a little shiny, before he has to set off again. He takes the right turning.

“We should watch it,” Eddie says eventually. “Hell, I’ll take any movie. Just gimme, like, two hours of not having to think.”

“Tell me about it.”

Steve’s sure he’ll never complain about double VHS tapes ever again. Then a thought occurs to him.

“Shit.” He calls to the back. “Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’know when we left Family Video, did we even lock up?”

“Yes,” Robin says followed immediately by, “No?”

Steve snorts. “God, we’re so fired.”

He hears Robin making her way up to the front, then Eddie saying, “Oof, Buckley, that was right in the ribs.”

“Why the sudden concern about our jobs, dingus?”

“I’m not concerned, I just got reminded of—Eddie was mentioning—”

“—Rebel Without a Cause,” Eddie finishes.

“Oh, Steve, I know you’ve seen it, I put it on last week!”

“Uh, maybe I was preoccupied doing, I dunno, my job.”

“It’s the one with—”

“James Dean,” Eddie cuts in.

“Yeah, I gathered, thanks,” Steve says sarcastically, but he can’t help smiling as he does so.

“—and it’s, you know,” Robin goes on, “troubled kid moves to a new town, and—”

“Aw,” Steve says, “you think I’m troubled, Munson?”

“It’s all in the eyes, Harrington. Such depths.”

“Right?” Robin says, and she’s laughing, tongue-in-cheek, “I’ve always said so.”

“You ever considered wearing a leather jacket?”

Steve laughs, too. “Tell ya what, Eddie, why don’t I just wear all your clothes?”

“Well, we know denim suits you.”

“If only you saw his last car-stealing outfit, Eddie.”

Steve sighs. “Robin, shut it.”

“Excuse me,” Eddie says, “d’you have form, Harrington? Grand theft auto form?”

“Literally once. Crazy circumstances.” Rest in peace, Todfather. “It was a Cadillac.”

“A Cadillac.” Eddie sighs dreamily. “Do you have any photos?”

“Uh, no, I was kinda busy.”

“I shall mourn the loss.”

“Take the next left here,” Nancy calls, which Steve is grateful for—the directions had gone completely out of his head.

“Wheeler, come up to the front,” Eddie says, “it’s a party.”

She must do, because her voice sounds much closer when she says, “Shit, I think I forgot to lock up, too.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, “no-one’s gonna ransack The Weekly Streak.”

Another stop sign—Steve looks over, smirks at how Eddie has ended up squished between Nancy and Robin, all of them sharing the one seat.

“They better not.” To Eddie, Nancy adds, “I think I gave your uncle the impression that I’m doing a big piece on you. Like, testimonials for an innocent man, stuff like that.”

For a flicker of a second, Eddie looks nauseated at the thought—Steve spots the shift, the decision to make a joke about it.

“Well, Wheeler, you better make me sound good.”

“Oh, I was going more for journalistic integrity.”

“Hey.”

Steve hears a couple of thumps behind him; without even glancing in the mirror, he says, “Sit your asses down, shitheads, don’t make me turn this thing around.”

“Don’t make me turn this thing around!” Lucas parrots.

Max scoffs playfully: “Nineteen going on forty.”

“Eddie was standing before!” Erica points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, Eddie’s a law unto himself. Look, just sit down and, like, make a list or something, I’ll stop off for food after we’ve—”

Dustin laughs. “You really are forty.”

“Uh-huh, one more wisecrack and you’re not getting any chocolate pudding.”

Steve’s hamming it up, he knows he is—smiles to himself as he hears a quartet of giggles.

“Can you believe they used to think I was cool?” he says.

“I dunno, Harrington,” Eddie says warmly, “at least one of them doth protest too much.”

Nancy stands in search of a pen, Robin following, insisting to Dustin that, “We’re getting one of those camp stoves, if I don’t eat something hot soon, I’m gonna die.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. Maybe it’s because they’ll soon be arriving at The War Zone; his levity slips just a little when he says, “It’s probably, like, a proximity thing. Henderson’ll have a scientific term for it.”

Eddie chuckles. “What, the Steve Harrington effect?”

Steve shrugs. “You get too close, the shine wears off eventually.”

He doesn’t realise until he’s said it that the joking, perhaps, has stopped somewhere along the way.

“Huh,” Eddie says. “I’m no scientist, but that doesn’t sound like the Steve Harrington effect to me.”

“No?” Steve says.

He can see the parking lot in the distance, and he gestures for Eddie to duck.

“Nope,” Eddie says. Steve can hear him moving, crouching to hide behind the driver’s seat.

He parks and everyone’s abruptly all business, deciding who’s staying in the RV, who’s going into The War Zone.

Steve hates it, has a sudden intense longing to keep talking about movies, to just be stupid.

And maybe Eddie can tell, because just before Steve heads out, he catches his eye, smiles.

“Hey, don’t worry, Harrington,” he says with a tiny, fleeting wink. “You’re still my leading man.”

[ninii-winchester]

Trust In Ashes

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 2.7k

Warnings : angst, alot of angst, demons, blood, violence, slight spoilers but not exactly following plot, language, mentions of injuries, dean(?) I’m sure he’ll never do anything like this but wtv, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The fluorescent lights of the cramped motel room flickered as Sam sat hunched over his laptop, the glow illuminating his focused expression. His fingers danced across the keyboard, searching for any leads on unusual supernatural activity. It had been a slow week for the Winchesters, but something was nagging at the back of Sam's mind.

After a few moments of scanning through local news sites, he stumbled upon a small article dated just a couple of days ago. The headline sent a chill down his spine: "Strange Occurrences in Willow Creek: Locals Report Electrical Disturbances and Missing Pets." He clicked on the link, his eyes darting over the text.

He glanced at the couple snoozing in bed, Y/n leans back against Dean, who wraps his arms around her in a protective embrace. The warm glow of a nearby lamp casts a gentle light over them, highlighting the content look on their faces. Their legs are tangled together, and they shift slightly to find the perfect position. Dean buries his face into her soft hair, breathing in the familiar scent, while the she relaxes into his embrace. 

Sam knew the news definitely had something to do with demons, the omens were there, he just wanted to wait for the couple to have a good sleep before they got on the road. Things have been tense with the apocalypse looming and the two angelic brothers wanting to jump Sam and Dean. The thought of being a vessel to Satan himself was something that made Sam uneasy. He almost never wanted to think of the repercussions of him saying yes to him, sometimes he felt his resolve waver but Dean and Y/n kept him grounded, even he was ever going to lose himself and say yes to Lucifer he was sure Dean would never allow Michael to take over his body and cause the end of the world.

As he shifted in his chair, the mattress creaked under Dean's weight. Sam turned slightly, watching them. Dean's brow furrowed in sleep, his protective instincts still active even in slumber. Y/n's hair fell across her face like a curtain, shielding her from the worries that had plagued them for weeks. Suddenly, a soft rustling from the bed drew his attention. Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Sam? What's going on?" she asked taking in his distraught expression, her voice laced with sleep but edged with concern.

"Just some strange happenings in Willow Creek," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Electrical issues and missing pets. I think it's connected to something... supernatural."

"Demons." Dean quipped waking up, his eyes fluttering open as he stretched. Sam nods in agreement as he was thinking the same.

“Willow Creek’s not far from here, actually. If we leave soon, we can get there by nightfall,” Sam replied, glancing over at Dean and Y/n. He knew they needed rest, but time was of the essence.

Dean’s hand found Y/n’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, sweetheart. You up for a little demon hunting?” His smirk was faint, but the affection in his eyes was unmistakable. His first instinct was to keep her out of danger but he would never ask her to stay back. Y/n offered a sleepy smile and nodded, though she couldn’t ignore the knot forming in her stomach.

Sam quickly packed up his laptop, his expression hardening as he prepared for the road ahead. The looming apocalypse was a weight that hung over them all, a constant reminder of what was at stake. But now all their focus was on whatever that was waiting for them in Willow Creek.

The drive to Willow Creek felt fairly short with Dean behind the wheel. Sam took a nap in the backseat while Y/n accompanied Dean in the front. The Impala rumbled to a stop outside a rundown motel on the outskirts of Willow Creek. They walked into the lobby, where a tired-looking receptionist barely lifted her eyes from the old TV on the counter. Dean leaned forward, flashing a charming smile. They got themselves a room with two beds and turned in for the night.

The next morning the trio decided to talk with the townspeople for more information on the unnatural occurrences around the town. They went to see the girl who had reported her pet cat missing. She was teenager named, Alice. She told them that Alice has been missing for days and she had last seen the in her room. Upon investigating the room, Y/n found traces of sulfur on the window sill and even caught a trail. She gestured her head to the boys to follow her. The trio moved through the dense woods just outside Willow Creek.

Y/n clutched a small iron knife, glancing around with cautious eyes, while Dean kept his shotgun at the ready, salt rounds loaded. Sam walked slightly ahead, scanning their surroundings for any signs of demons.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Y/n murmured, shivering slightly as a cold wind passed through the trees.

“Yeah, something doesn’t feel right,” Dean agreed, his voice low. Just as Sam was about to speak, a few people came out of the trees, ambushing the trio.

“Well well well, look who we have here.” A female said inching closer to the three. “The Winchesters.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the woman and then Sam spoke.

“Meg?” He questioned looking at her curiously. She beamed at him sarcastically and tilted her head to look up at him.

“You recognised me, though i must say this suit is prettier than the last.” She said running her hands through her raven hair.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean growled aiming his gun at her. But she laughed at him, holding out her hand.

“Please Dean, don’t even try.” She closed her hand cutting off Dean’s air supply and making him drop the gun and clutch his neck. Y/n immediately moved to his side trying to help him. Meg quickly released him and he coughed up a bit before she spoke again. “Had to create hell lot of ruckus to get you guys here. But I just need Sam.” She said looking up at the tall man.

“Why?” Sam glared at her, clenching his jaw.

“Oh nothing serious, just need you to say yes to Lucifer.” She replied nonchalantly making the trio rage.

“Like hell we’re letting you take him. Even if you do he won’t say yes.” Y/n snapped.

“You know what, I’m tired of this conversation.” Meg gestured her goons to capture Sam but Dean quickly killed of the demons with the demon blade, while Sam was fighting off other demons, Y/n started to chant the exorcism. “Can’t let you do that, honey.” Meg slapped Y/n making her stop and the latter punched her back.

Dean watched Meg slap Y/n and was distracted momentarily which gave the demon, he was fighting, an upper hand, getting him stabbed in the side. Amidst all chaos, Meg and Demons managed to take Sam and Y/n away. Dean screamed and yelled but they disappeared right in front of his eyes and he leaned against the three holding his wounded side.

Dean managed to go back to the motel and patch himself up. He grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and gulped it down before thrashing the room. He quickly pulled out his phone and called Bobby. The man answered the call almost immediately.

“Bobby,” Dean breathed. The old man urged him to speak before he lost his mind. “We were on a hunt, me, Sammy and Y/n, it was ploy to get us here. Fucking demons.” Dean growled pulling at his hair as he paced the room. He filled Bobby in on everything that Meg said, and that he was going to lose his mind if he couldn’t find either of them.

“Dean, I think you should call for Castiel. He might be able to locate them.” Bobby suggested and Dean nodded vehemently. He was glad he called Bobby as his brain had completely shut down.

After ending the call Dean continued to pace the room as he called for Castiel. He prayed with his whole chest so the angel would hear him. He desperately needed his help.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel appeared in front of him. The blue eyed man was looking at him curiously as to why he’d called, since he was sure Dean would never change his mind about saying ‘Yes’.

“Castiel, man i need your help. I know I’ve cursed you a bit too much but you gotta forget it all help me.” Dean spoke way to fast for it be coherent but the angel somehow managed. He nodded and asked Dean how he could help. Dean told him everything that’s happened and waited for the angel’s response.

“I would love to help you Dean,…” Castiel spoke and Dean felt like there was a ‘but’ coming in and he was right. “But if Sam says yes then it’s over. You’re gonna have to say yes to Michael.”

“My brother would never say yes to him.” Dean glowered grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trench coat.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was harsh. “Lucifer’s Demons have got him. You can’t even begin fathom the horrors they could inflict on him to get him to say yes.” Dean gritted his teeth at the mental image that flashed into his mind, he didn’t even want to think of it.

“You’re wasting time, Castiel.” A heavy silence settled in the motel room as Dean shoved his weapons into a duffel bag. Holy water, shotguns with salt, his regular gun and of course the demon blade. If Castiel isn’t going to help him then he’s not going to sit around waiting for a miracle. Two of the most important people in his life have been abducted by demons and he’d be damned if he didn’t do anything about it.

“Dean, I can’t locate them.” Castiel commented after a while and Dean stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, his brain already filling with the worst case scenarios.

“They’re probably under sigils, the demons must’ve painted the place to keep them hidden from me. They’re blocking me.” The angel explained and the hunter nodded.

“I’ll find them on my own.” Dean said leaving the motel room and getting into the Impala. He drove around like a madman trying to see anything that resembles a demon’s hideout. It must probably be a warehouse or an abandoned building. Castiel appeared beside Dean in the Impala, scaring him. Dean gave him a curious look.

“I’ll know when my powers are being blocked that way it’ll narrow it down for you.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, the engine roaring in protest as he sped down the winding road, his mind racing with thoughts of Sam and Y/n. Castiel sat in the passenger seat, his expression focused, eyes scanning the landscape as they searched for any sign of the hidden demons.

A few moments later, Castiel pointed out the window. “That abandoned warehouse—there’s a disturbance in the air around it. I can sense the darkness.”

Dean slammed on the brakes, the Impala skidding to a stop in front of the dilapidated building. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You sure?” And Castiel nodded.

“I’m afraid I can’t go any further.”

Dean looked back at Castiel but nodded, he appreciated him coming along but he wouldn’t waste any more time. Without saying another word he loaded his shotgun and went inside. The walked further inside the dark warehouse and saw Y/n and Sam, tied to chairs and they were both in bad condition. Sam worse than Y/n. All Dean saw was pure rage.

Sam’s whole face was bloodied, the crimson liquid poured from the side of his head, his chest was covered in bruises, while wide gashes ran along his arms. Dean’s heart clenched in his chest as his gaze fell onto Y/n. Her lip was swollen and gashes were visible on her arms as well, he could see a faint fingerprints around her neck, and her forehead had a split, dripping blood onto her cheek. While Sam still wasn’t completely unconscious, Y/n’s head lolled to the side as she succumbed to the darkness.

“Sweetheart,” Dean kneeled in front of her tapping her cheeks lightly. She fluttered her eyes open and he sighed in relief.

“Dean,” she choked smiling painfully but then she remembered, “Sam.” She mumbled looking the side. “Help him.” Dean nodded at her.

“I’ll help him, I’ll help you both.” Dean said moving to untie her hands when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Ooh the hero is here to save the day, huh.” Meg taunted walking towards the trio. Dean turned to glare at her and she smiled.

“A few more hits and he’ll be begging to say yes.” She spoke evilly and Dean shot at her but she dodged it.

“Get him out of here.” Y/n mumbled to Dean. In that moment Dean’s mind was troubled but he knew if he left Sam with them they’d probably torture him enough to say ‘yes’, which will result in the end of the world. His mind kept chanting, ‘Save Sam’ and he knew he had to save his brother.

Dean stood up to his feet and punched Meg, knocking her unconscious, he quickly untied Sam and supported his weight on his shoulder. “I’ll be back for you sweetheart, I promise.” He said to her and she nodded weakly.

“I trust you, Dean.” Was the last thing he heard before he went outside. He quickly threw sat Sam in the backseat of the Impala.

“Castiel heal him.” Dean commanded and Castiel put his fingers over Sam’s forehead but nothing happened.

“I..I can’t.” The man in the trench coat said looking half ashamed and half perplexed. “I think this is some sort of dark magic that I can’t undo. He needs medical help.”

In that moment Dean forgot what else he was supposed to do, who else needed him. His brain kept telling him his brother was dying and he couldn’t let that happen. He forgot that he was supposed to go back inside and save the woman he claimed to love. But in that moment nothing mattered except for the fact that his brother was on the verge of dying and he had to save him. He got into the driver’s seat and drove off towards the hospital.

An hour later, Sam was out of the ER and shifted into a private room, while he slept Dean paced the hallway when Castiel approached him.

“Dean,” he placed a hand on the hunter’s shoulder. The green eyed man turned to the angel who had a sombre look on his face. “I heard Y/n.” All the color drained off of Dean’s face when he heard her name and he realised that he’d abandoned her. “She was calling out my name, even yours, she seemed anguished, pained.” Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Castiel’s words sunk in. Y/n was calling for them—calling for him—and he hadn’t been there to answer. The weight of that realization pressed down on him like a heavy shroud, threatening to suffocate him.

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Castiel continued, his tone grave, eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and concern. “I’m sorry.” The apology felt like a dagger twisting in Dean’s heart. He staggered backward, trying to process the implication of Castiel’s words. He had left Y/n, left her in the hands of demons. Despair washed over him in waves, threatening to pull him under. His mind raced with images of Y/n, her smile, her laughter, now replaced by fear and pain. He had failed her when she needed him most.

He sunk to his knees, the weight of the world crashing down around him. The cold concrete floor felt like a punishment beneath him, a stark reminder of his failures. His breath came in shaky gasps as he struggled to hold back the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. This is something he would regret for the rest of his life. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispered into the emptiness, feeling as though his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

Tags:

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[bullet-prooflove]

Deals With The Devil: Dean Winchester x Reader (feat: Michael)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @cosmic-psychickitty @volumesofforgottenlore @@spaghettificationandpretzels

You, Me & Tennessee - Dean always returns to Tennessee.

On The Mountain - Dean wishes he was back on the Mountain with you.

Six Pack (NSFW) - You realise the man waiting for you isn't Dean Winchester.

Memories (NSFW) - Michael invades your home whilst you're away.

It’s late by the time you get home, the sun is just setting and the orange rays play across your front door as you fit your key into the lock. There’s a strangeness when you step into the house, something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s when you set your  duffle bag down alongside the couch that you notice the pitcher of tulips is missing.

Esme, you think, she must have gotten rid of them when they started to wilt. She’s a your next door neighbour, the person who checks in on your house when you’re away at the Fire Tower. It looks like she’s done a load of laundry too, you find it stacked neatly on your dresser, ready to be put away. It’s unusual but not uncommon, she’s been at a loose end since her son was killed up on the mountain, sometimes you come home to find she’s tidied the place, or left dinner in the fridge. It’s her way of thanking you for resolving his death.

You’re too exhausted to do anything more than shower and crawl into bed. It’s been an eventful few days up at the Fire Tower, the forest has been restless and when that happens the dark things come out to play. Anyone who leaves the designated camp sites is at risk and the shadows…

They have ways of calling people into the forest.

McNally has taken over from you tonight but you’ll be back on shift in a couple of days if things haven’t settled.

You wake up to the sensation of soft lips caressing yours, hands roaming through your hair as a firm body fits perfectly against you, already hard, already wanting. You’re used to Dean slipping under the sheets at odd hours, to waking up to his tenderness, his passion. You moan into his mouth and he practically purrs as his hips rock gently against yours. Christ he feels good, you’ve missed this, you’ve missed him…

It's then that you remember Dean, isn’t really Dean.

You try to draw away but Michael he’s stronger than you are. His arm loops around your, gathering you up close, pinning you against him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whisper as Michael’s lips brush over the corner of your mouth. “Why are you torturing me like this?”

“It’s not meant to be torture.” He whispers, his hand threading through your hair and gripping it in a fist. He tugs it back to reveal your throat and your body responds to it unwillingly, your breath hitching. “It’s meant to be love, it’s meant to be bliss, it’s meant to be ecstasy.”

“Not with you.” You murmur, his clean shaven cheek grazing over yours. “It’ll never be like that with you.”

“All I’m asking for is one night.” He tells you, his heated mouth leaving a trail of kisses down the curve of your throat. “One night where I get to feel what he feels, that I get to experience you, enjoy you. You can have him back after that, you can be with the man you love again. Don’t you want that?”

He arches his hips again, grinding against you and you can’t help but make that noise, that filthy one that always escapes your lips when Dean gives you a little friction. You feel his smile against your skin because Michael he has you exactly where he wants you.

“What I want it has to be given, it can’t be taken.” He murmurs, his breath ghosting in your ear as his fingertips toy with the elastic of your pyjama shorts. “All you need to do is say yes.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[doctorprofessorsong]

DESTIEL FIC RECS

Been awhile since I did one of these. Sorry for the hiatus.

Take Me Out by Crematosis @crematosis (teen and up, 6.6k)

A cute, cracky concept, Cas misinterprets Dean's request to take him out if he becomes a demon by taking him put on a date. Demon Dean is his petulant self (affectionate) and Cas is his stubborn self and they are surprisingly soft about each other.

It's a short, funny read with a really fun and clever resolution.

Shut Up and Drive by planetaryPluto (Mature, 10k)

When Cas and Mary come up against some witches on a hunt, Cas gets turned into a car and Baby gets turned into a human.

First and foremost I am obsessed that this fic features Mary/Baby femslash. 10/10 no notes. But also Dean is so deeply weird about Carstiel. There is a tire change that somehow manages to be erotic and gayer than actual m/m sex. It's immaculate.

Corner House of Horror by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Teen and Up, 6k)

“I can't write a Simpsons/Destiel crossover, can I?” Famous last words when I’m there to enable. This fic is absolutely hilarious and it works surprisingly well. What really sells it is the casting. Knife baby Emma owns my heart. So do Michael and Lucifer as Patty and Selma. And Garth!Ned Flanders is impeccable.

There are great references to both shows and the story has some fun twists and turns and a cartoon Scooby vibe too. It's a fun ride.

Three Funerals and a Wedding by Englandwouldfall (Teen and Up, 29k)

A tropey fluffy fic that will have you grinning. They’re in love but also idiots. There's only one bed. There are former roommates! There's fake dating! All the fun checkboxes.

When Cas threatens to stop LARPing, Charlie sets them up to be fake married for plot reasons. This leads to Dean and Cas having the most awkwardly real buy not real dating interactions.

It's soft and funny. There's some light angst, but you always know they'll get it together and its so sweet when they do.2

Virga(e) by shineforthee @shineforthee (Explicit, 71k)

Angsty and twisty, you'll find yourself wondering what is truly happening in this one which always makes for a good time.

Dean finds himself in Death Valley where a lonely stranger captures his eye. Cas can't leave the park and Dean promises to help, but before he knows it, it's Cas rather than the mystery compelling him to stay.

This one is very high concept and beautifully written. Also Death Valley becomes its own character. The research is unmistakable and the detail is compelling.

Definitely an instant favorite.

Precipice by Haus_seeblick @haus-seeblick (Teen, 19k)

This one has such good vibes. A case fic loosely inspired by the X-Files, Cas is a paranormal investigator who believes the truth is out there. When he gets assigned to a case involving potential demons, he keeps crossing paths with two mysterious men in a black impala.

There is a lot to love about this one. The case is interesting. Cas and Dean are drawn to each other and immediately have rapport. The brother dynamic is fun. It's a great read with a fun resolution

[fanfictionalraven]

Promises

Title: Promises

Summary: You and Dean had promised each other you'd always be there, no matter what. But when Sam falls into the pit, Dean runs to someone else.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, others mentioned

Word Count: 3,754

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of character death

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published October, 2017. Italics are flashbacks.

You run your hand over your face as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. This motel’s wi-fi sucked. You’d been waiting on this same page to load for five minutes now. Rising from the chair, you pull your jacket on. If it was going to be this slow, you were gonna go get a drink.

You make your way to the door, straightening out the collar of your jacket. You grab your keys and pull the door open, jumping back at what’s waiting on the other side. Your hand instinctively flinches for the gun tucked into the back of your jeans before you stop yourself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, more venom in your words than you had really intended.

“Hello to you too,” Dean Winchester snaps, the hand he had raised to knock falling to his side. It had been well over a year since you had seen or even spoken to Dean.

The two of you had practically grown up together. Your fathers had left you both at Bobby’s often and you considered the Winchesters family. You, Dean, and Sam had been through so much together but there was no denying you had been closer to the older brother. You were there for him through everything. Sam going to college. John dying. Sam dying. You’d watched him get dragged to Hell and were there as soon as he came back. You had been fully prepared to pull him through Sam falling into the pit. But Dean didn’t pick you. He’d picked her.

Lucifer had just blown Castiel into chunks before throwing Dean into the windshield of the Impala. Bobby shoots at him and with the flick of his wrist, Lucifer snaps his neck.

“Bobby!!” You scream out, moving towards his body quickly. You sob as your hands ghost over his neck, knowing there’s nothing you can do. Lucifer begins to punch Dean repeatedly. You rise to your feet and take a step to run and help him. Lucifer holds up a hand, freezing you to the place.

“No,” Dean chokes out, spitting up blood. Lucifer lets out a laugh as you attempt to move.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill her yet. It’ll be more fun to make her watch me kill the man she loves with my bare hands,” he says.

You call out and sob, completely useless as Lucifer uses Sam’s hands to beat his brother within an inch of his life. Dean can barely see as he tells Sam it’ll be okay. Something snaps inside Sam. He regains control, grabs Michael, and the two tumble into the pit.

Once the pit closes up again, you’re released from the place you’d been standing. You rush to Dean’s side, quickly assessing his injuries. Cas appears next to you and reaches down, healing Dean instantly. He brings Bobby back as you help Dean to his feet.

The drive back to Bobby’s is quiet. Dean, yourself, and Bobby all ride together in the front seat of the Impala. Dean keeps both hands tight on the steering wheel as he drives. Once he stops the car in front of the house, Bobby gets out leaving the two of you alone. You peel one of Dean’s hands off the wheel and hold it in yours.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your voice soft and comforting. He shakes his head, staring at the dashboard in front of him. “We’ll get through this.”

“I’m getting out,” he says. Your eyes widen in surprise before you nod.

“Okay. Well – ummm,” you start. Out had never really been in your plans but if that’s what Dean wanted, what Dean needed, then so be it. He pulls his hand away from yours, returning it to the wheel.

“I’m gonna go back to Lisa and Ben,” he says, eyes still forward. You stare at him in disbelief before your cheeks heat up quickly in embarrassment. Lucifer had put your feelings for Dean out there, plain as day. You loved him. But clearly Dean didn’t feel the same way. This was his way of breaking the news to you.

“Oh. Well – that’s, that’s good,” you say, sliding across the seat to the passenger side door. “If you need me, you know how to reach me,” He nods once, his eyes never leaving the dashboard. You couldn’t help the rage that was starting to build. Years of friendship and support and he just seemed to be tossing you aside. “Have a good life,” you tell him as you quickly exit the car. You barely get the door closed again before Dean’s spinning tires, leaving you in his dust.

“How did you find me?” You ask him now, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes, squeezing into the room past you.

“Bobby always knows where you are,” he says. You frown and curse Bobby internally. Damn traitor.

“I thought you were out,” you say, closing the door as you turn to face him. He looks at your computer screen and raises an eyebrow.

“Was,” he says. “You’re hunting a rugaru by yourself?” He arches an eyebrow at you and you shrug, walking over quickly.

“So what if I am?” You ask, reaching past him to close the laptop.

“Never knew you to be stupid,” he says. Your eyes narrow, anger bubbling in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in over a year. Who did he think he was just barging in here, telling you how to run your own hunts?

“Why are you here, Dean?” You ask. He looks at you and something shifts in his face. It’s a look you know well. He’s worried.

“Sam’s back,” he says. You nod, biting your lip.

“I know,” you tell him. He frowns slightly and you sigh. “I’ve known this whole time. We even worked together – for a little while.”

“So everyone knew my brother wasn’t in Hell except for me,” he says, anger slipping into his words. You roll your eyes.

“You had what you wanted,” you tell him. He stares at you now, disbelieving.

“What I wanted?” He asks. You shrug your shoulders.

“Lisa and Ben, your perfect little normal family,” you sneer, walking past him. He grabs your arm and you look at him quickly.

“The hell is your problem, Y/N?” He asks. You jerk your arm away from him.

“Any time something happened, you ran to me and we faced it head on together. We promised we’d always be there for each other, whatever came. And I was there. Long before…” You stop, biting your lip. You didn’t want to do this. Every fiber of your being was fighting to keep the floodgates closed. Dean Winchester was sure as hell not about to see you crying over him.

“I needed a break, away from the life. I had to try for Sam, or so I thought,” he says. You squeeze your eyes closed, turning away from him. Taking a slow, steadying breath, you regain your composure.

“When Sam came back, I told him we had to tell you. I swear I did, Dean. But he said he’d seen you with Lisa and Ben and that you were happy. The happiest he’d ever seen you,” you tell him. Turning back to face him, you find he appears crestfallen. He looks like he’s struggling to say something before he shakes his head.

“You said you hunted with Sam,” he says. You frown and nod.

“For a little while – couple months maybe,” you tell him. The look on his face changes again, as though he already knows the answer to his next question.

“What happened?” He asks. You bite your lip and look away. “Y/N, I need to know.”

“He almost got me killed. We were on a hunt, a djinn. I can’t prove it but I – I think he let me get captured,” you confess. He nods slightly, watching you.

“I’m pretty sure he let me get turned into a vamp,” he tells you. Your eyes widen slightly before they jump to your bag of weapons open on the bed. Dean catches the movement and shakes his head. “Samuel cured me. Sounds crazy, I know, but you can check me yourself.” You shake your head slightly. “You met Samuel?”

“Your grandfather? Yea, he was a real charmer,” you say, rolling your eyes. Dean lets out a laugh and nods.

“Yea, he’s an ass,” he says. You smile a little then look down.

“Why’d you come?” You ask. He sighs and you look up at him again.

“Wanted a second opinion on Sam. And – ugh – I missed you,” he says. You can hear an added weight to his words. I missed you. His eyes are locked on yours, trying to pass those words’ deeper meaning telepathically. You shake your head, fighting tears once again.

“You picked her, Dean,” is all you can manage to say. He frowns and takes a tentative step towards you.

“I was trying to keep you safe. The people I care about most, they don’t do too good with me around. I couldn’t lose you like I lost Sam. So, I ran,” he admits.

He takes another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His hands capture yours and you look up at him. His eyes are soft as they search yours. He leans down slowly and your eyes flutter closed. You feel his nose bump yours gently and his breath, a mix of mint and whiskey, washes over you. At the last possible second, just before his lips touch yours, you find the strength to turn your head away.

“I don’t want to be your backup plan,” you tell him, your voice trembling. He frowns and raises your chin with one finger.

“That’s not what this is,” he says. You shake your head and pull your hands from his, taking a step away.

“That’s how it feels. Now, I’ll help you with Sam cause I’m worried about him too. But we’re just friends like we always were,” you say, picking up your computer.

“We were never just friends,” Dean says, staring at you. You look back at him, fresh tears threatening to spill over. You swallow hard and nod.

“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone,” you say, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

You meant it. You swore to yourself you’d meant it. The moment Sam was back to his normal self, you were going to be out the door. You weren’t going to slip back into your old routines with Dean. You would sleep on the floor before you’d share the motel bed with him like you used to. The stupid, flirty banter that used to make you think you meant more to him? That wasn’t going to happen either. That was your plan. It was a great plan. You just couldn’t stick to it.

You managed to keep your distance until you got hurt on a hunt. Dean was at your side in an instant, worried as usual. His hands made quick work of removing his flannel shirt. He tied it just above the gash in your leg then lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style back to the car as Sam finished clearing the nest.

He made Sam drive back to the motel, keeping constant pressure on your wound in the backseat. Sam parks the Impala outside the brothers’ room of the motel. You had your own room, your new normal, but Dean carries you into theirs and carefully deposits you on one of the beds. He reaches for the button on your jeans and you grab at his hands quickly.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and swats your hands away.

“Sammy, get me the –,” he stops short. Sam is already at his side, needle, thread, and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hands. Your eyes widen and you grab Dean’s hands again. He looks at you, exasperation fading into concern quickly. He knows how much you despise stitches. You were an ass-kicking hunter who had no problem facing a demon or a nest of vampires. But bring out a needle and you were running for the hills. “This isn’t a job for a bandage, Sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Dean reassures you. You groan and lay back on the bed, putting your hands over your face.

Dean unties the shirt he’d been using as a tourniquet and you feel the blood start to rush again. He quickly, but as carefully as he can, pulls your blood-soaked jeans off, handing them to Sam who throws them away. The next sensation causes you to sit upright and scream out. Dean had poured the whiskey onto your wound. He hands the bottle to you quickly and you turn it up before handing it to Sam. You look at Dean’s hands as he threads the needle effortlessly and your stomach churns. You follow his hands with your eyes as they move to your leg. One of his hands comes up, cupping your chin, and forces you to meet his eyes.

“You know the drill. Eyes on me,” he says, his voice calm and comforting. You nod and he presses his lips to your forehead quickly. His eyes drop to your leg momentarily before returning to yours. You feel the tug at your skin of your leg and grimace. “You remember the first time I did this?” He asks. You blink then nod, the memory returning. “Tell me about it.”

“We were just kids,” you start. Your voice is still trembling so you take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “We were playing in Bobby’s scrapyard, exactly what he’d told us not to do. I fell and cut my arm. We were worried about how mad he was going to be so you said your dad had taught you how to do stitches. You started and I passed out.”

“I thought I’d killed you. I carried you back to Bobby and he finished with your stitches before you woke up,” he continues. His eyes shoot down to your leg between every stitch before returning to your face. “That was when I learned about your needle thing.”

“It’s a phobia, Dean, not a needle thing,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. He chuckles.

“And then I learned to do this,” he says, smiling at you proudly. “Perfect stitches, barely even looking.” He winks at you now and you shake your head.

“Promised you’d always take care of care me that day too,” you say. His smile falls slightly as his eyes drop for a second.

“I remember when Sam brought up the idea of anti-possession tattoos. I’d never seen you so pale,” he says, changing the subject. You groan at that memory and shake your head. “I got you through that too though.”

“You held my hand and kept me distracted,” you say, smiling a little. He nods, his eyes staying on your leg just a second longer before he looks up at you and smiles wider.

“Just like now. All done,” he says. You look down at your leg, surprised. There was a perfect line of needlework across your thigh. You smile and shake your head, looking back at Dean.

“Thank you,” you tell him. He shrugs then rises to his feet.

“You can use our shower to get cleaned up,” he says. You nod and he helps you up from the bed. “You’re staying in our room tonight. I’ll sleep in the chair, I don’t care. But – I’d really like to be able to keep an eye on you. You lost a lot of blood.” He has an arm around your waist, helping you towards the bathroom.

You didn’t make Dean sleep in the chair that night. And you didn’t get a separate room any longer. After that, everything felt normal again. You and Dean would tease each other mercilessly just like you always had. You’d find yourself wrapped in his arms in the early morning hours just like you always had.

A few things had changed though. He didn’t hit on women in the bars like he used to. Instead, he’d stay close by your side, scaring off any man who dared get too close. Normally, you would have been pissed but suddenly you didn’t mind so much.

In the days that follow, Dean makes some backwards deal with Death in order to get Sam’s soul back. He does it behind your back, knowing you’d try to talk him out of it. The slap he receives when he returns tells him he was right not to tell you. The hug and kiss on the cheek tell him you forgive him immediately.

“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone.”

Those were your words. Your solemn vow to yourself. And that time was now. Sam’s soul had been restored and he seemed to be adjusting well. You’re in the spare room at Bobby’s, packing your bag. A knock at the door draws your attention.

“Come in,” you call out. The door opens and the younger Winchester walks in, smiling.

“Hey, ummm – I wanted to apologize. Cas told me what I did,” he says. You smile at him and shake your head.

“We’re good, Sam. The djinn was nothing,” you tell him. He frowns more.

“That’s not what I meant although I am definitely sorry for that too,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. “I made you believe that Dean didn’t want you.”

“Sam, that’s between me and Dean,” you say, looking back at your bag.

“Yea, but if I hadn’t have opened my big soulless mouth, would you have gone to him?” He asks. You sigh and hang your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know anything anymore honestly,” you say, looking back at him. He smiles a little.

“Well, let me tell you what I know,” he says as he walks over. You sigh and cross your arms causing him laugh. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I know that you’ve been crazy about Dean since you were 12. I know that he’s wanted you since you went to prom with that Sanchez guy. And I know that you’ve both been running from each other for years,” he says. You shake your head slightly.

“But…”

“Talk to him, Y/N. Please,” Sam says. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone. You frown and run your hands over your face. Shaking your head again, you turn back to your bag. You hear the door open and the sound of boots walking across the floor.

“Sam, I swear,” you turn and stop short. Dean’s standing just inside the room. He glances at the bag sitting on the bed.

“Sam said you were packing,” he says. You frown and nod slightly.

“He’s back to normal,” you say. His face falls and he shakes his head.

“Don’t go,” he says. “We’re good together, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You picked her, Dean,” you say, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes.

“It was never because I wanted her more, Y/N. You gotta believe that. I was never fully present there with her. And she knew it. She thought it was Sam or hunting, and part of it was. But it was mostly you,” he says, walking towards you. “By the time I’d realized I’d made a mistake, I couldn’t just leave them. And I didn’t think you’d have me after the way I left either.” You wipe at your cheek, furiously.

“You abandoned me. You weren’t the only one grieving, you know? I mean, I get that he isn’t really my brother but I was hurting too,” you tell him. He frowns and shakes his head quickly.

“No, I know. I know you were and there is no excuse for what I did,” he says, reaching for your hands. You step back, balling your hands into fists at your sides.

“Sam said he saw you. That you were happy. Happier than you’d ever been. Happier than you could have been with – with me,” you say, trying to control your emotions. This was the conversation you had wanted to avoid. You hated letting people see you cry, especially Dean. He drops his hands at his side.

“Sam told you what he knew was going to keep you away from me. Because he knew that if you had shown up on that doorstep, I’d have been back in. In a heartbeat,” he says. “I’ve been happier in the last couple weeks with you than I was the whole year with her, even with the crap that’s been going on.” He tentatively reaches for your hands again and this time you allow him to take them.

“What if she calls?” You ask, still avoiding his eyes. He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your face to meet his.

“She won’t. It’s over. And even if she does, it won’t matter,” he tells you. You bite your lip, searching his eyes. “I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You name it and it’s yours. You want a dozen roses and a diamond ring or you want me to – to jump off the roof or paint your name on Baby or – or – okay, maybe not anything to do with Baby.” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, looking away. He smiles, leaning in towards you slightly. Your eyes close as his lips brush against your cheek.

“Me and you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper. You look back up at him now and he’s smiling at you softly.

“Me and you. Till the end of the road. I promise,” he says. You smile then stand up, pressing your lips against his. Your lips move in perfect sync, like it wasn’t the first time they’d ever met. You feel him smile before he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re staying then?”

“Oh, you’re never getting rid of me now,” you tell him, smirking. He laughs then lifts you up with ease, tossing you back onto the bed behind you.

[eyecan02]

The Maxie Dean Detail from BJBJ

The way it was confirmed that Maxie Dean from the first film survived. I think we all assumed that if he went through the ceiling, he most likely died but BJBJ confirming that Maxie Dead survived meaning his wife probably survived too.

Why did they go out of their way to confirm he was still alive? We all know Beetlejuice told the Maitlands he was willing to kill if they needed him to and in BJBJ, he confirms that he kills sometimes for his clients so again why confirm that Maxie Dean, a minor character, is still alive?

The most likely answer? To show that Beetlejuice never killed anyone close to Lydia/Lydia's family. In one interview, Colleen Atwood, the costume designer confirmed that this time around Beetlejuice was meant to be portrayed as someone gentler. And even Michael Keaton said he was surprised at how "emotional" the story was and how the writing was "stronger" than the first film.

Why is Beetlejuice meant to be gentler? Why does it matter if someone who was somewhat of an antagonist in the first film, be viewed as more gentle? Because Warner Bros knows we love Beetlejuice's character so instead of making him do irredeemable things onscreen, they chose to show how soft he is with Lydia.

I saw this as a way of Warner Bros testing the waters for a future beetlebabes official wedding, which explains why they pushed out so much wedding merch. I strongly believe that they knew a wedding couldn't realistically happen in part 2 so they're purposely making it a slow burn romance and stretching it out until BJ3. Calling it Beetlejuice Beetlejuice feels incomplete. They're definitely setting it up to conclude the chant with Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I strongly feel this.

[soullessjack]

i know ive vaguely mentioned that jack is putting on his own kind of personality-performance in the same way Dean is but something else I microwave in my head a lot is how he specifically plays it up with cas and performs in a similar way. they’re like two bodysnatchers pretending they’re humans and performing traditions that they think will help them blend in (like Cas calling Jack ‘slugger’ in the tombstone script draft)

I think another aspect of Jacks character that is often forgotten is that he also isn’t entirely human, and that coupled with the general infantilization he gets from the fandom means nobody is really looking very deeply into his behavior or recognizing it as a performance—specifically one that’s rooted in his need to be seen as acceptable and “Good,” and contributes so much to the sensitivity and defensiveness he’s shown to have towards his perceived place in TFW and the Winchester family.

everyone thinks it’s cute and charming that he wanted to match ties with Cas and supposedly has a talking teddy bear toy in 15x11 (the both of which can be seen as part of traditional nuclear family roles just like Cas calling him ‘slugger,’) but when that same episode ends with jack ruefully admitting to cas that he’s going to kill himself as part of Billie’s plan and as a way to atone for the damage he caused, you really have to question the sincerity of his behavior—especially since it’s not even the first time he’s used cutesy charming behavior to essentially manage everyone’s mood and emotions to keep being perceived the way he wants to be perceived at the face value he’s created for himself (unabashedly lying to Sam and Dean about anything happening while he was out with a big smile and an “I promise,” in 14x16, and doing the same thing to Mary in the beginning of 14x17).

another thing is that if jack does feel like he can be himself and also be accepted or even praised for it, like he was in apocalypse world with Mary and the refugees that saw him as a hero, he gets immediately defensive whenever something about his [genuine] self or his capability is questioned; he gets upset at Mary for not thinking that he can beat Michael alone and blows up at Cas for thinking he’s too weak to do anything by himself as a human being, and in both of these instances he switches tones a lot between a very deadpan and blunt when he’s essentially unmasking, vs a soft one when he’s trying to be reassuring and acceptable.

it adds a lot to his identity crisis in the beginning of s14 and especially to his soulless arc, when he’s basically desperate to get back into the traditional Good Son role he’s gotten even though his own subconscious outright mocks him for it and calls him pathetic for even wanting to be that person again

*which jack also becomes increasingly defensive and blatantly aggressive about.

im losing the plot because of my stomach hurting so TLDR jack is basically a bodysnatchers playing house the same way Castiel is amen godbless peace be with you all

[dotthings]

Ok but Cas in late S5 tho!!!!

He looks so soft and so proud, lying in his hospital bed, looking all ragged and exhausted, about Dean saying no to Michael. Cas seemingly does have this sensitive spot about the idea of Michael possessing Dean. He's very protective of Dean about that. And also Cas apologizes for his harsh words, and Dean immediately accepts and says "that's ok" and means it. Cas's apology and praise makes Dean go soft too. Those two, I swear, they are so harsh at times but they're actually just so ridiculously soft about each other. And ofc it gets undercut when Cas adds "You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be" and Dean sort of sarcastically says gee thanks. But that was Cas's well intentioned bluntness that was intended as a compliment. He did doubt Dean, he was disappointed, and now he's saying he was wrong to doubt him.

"Maybe just a speck." Cas, depowered, weakened, having just gotten there on a long bus ride omg, strides in to save Sam and Dean and Cas cuts off Pestilence's finger to get the ring like the ruthless mofo he is. That is Cas. He cares about his friends, he wants to save the world, he has an unhinged level of courage against impossible odds even when his angelic powers are depleted.

"It's the eleventh hour and I am useless" yet Cas takes his sawed off shotgun and saves Sam.

Cas has been there and is going to be there again and again, powered up Cas, low powered Cas, depowered Cas. It's about his heart and his courage it's not about how useful his angel magic is.

[gilverrwrites]

Heyy I was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers with Gabriel if you do write for him (if not just ignore this haha) I don’t really have any specific requests other than the friends to lovers haha :)

Aware Of Your Stare

AN: I do, I do! Hope this is the kinda thing you had in mind 💛

Pairing: Gabriel/GN!Reader

Words: 2K

Content: Friends to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, kissing, petnames, (mild) arguing, but mainly fluff.

Please remember: Your feelings are valid.

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You’re woken by the feel of something soft tickling the tip of your nose. You lean away and glare up through half-lidded eyes at the perpetrator. Gabriel, who is lounging beside you in nothing but his vest and boxers. Angels typically don't sleep, so they often find themselves trying to kill time. When there isn't an imminent threat or apocalypse on the horizon anyway.

Castiel patrols the bunker like a guard dog, watching its residents (mainly Dean) sleep. Michael lets Adam sleep to give him that sense of human normality. You weren’t really sure how that worked, but you assumed he found some kind of respite in it.

Gabe, however, despite being able to go anywhere and conjure anything with anyone, liked to set up shop for the night in your room, where he would binge-watch TV and get pastry crumbs all over your comforter.

“Quit it.” You mutter before shutting your eyes again and nuzzling back into your pillow.

“You quit is.” He responds, following your nose with his finger. “You’re too loud. Nick is trying to cheer up Jess after she broke up with her boyfriend at the holiday party, and you’re snoring right over it.”

“Ugh.” You reach up to bat his hand away, and he briefly retreats. With your eyes closed, you don’t realise he’s simply relocating his attack before it’s too late.

You kick and flail at him desperately, crying out for him to stop, but it’s no use, damn his archangel strength. You’re at his mercy until he lets you go. When he eventually subsides, you shove him away, and he plays along, rolling back to his side of the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“Nah, you love me really, sugar.” He replies, opening his arms wide and grinning at you.

You feign a glare before following his lead and crawling into his arms. With the snap of his fingers, he rewinds the TV, and you slowly fall back asleep under the gentle feel of him stroking your back.

“Hey, I don’t care what or who you do in the privacy of your own room, but could you keep it down? A man needs his sleep.”

You blink at Dean over your morning coffee. The caffeine must not have kicked in yet because there is no way he just said what he said. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He shrugs at you, exasperated, as he pours his own coffee.

“Say what?” You push, irritated by the implication.

“You and Gabriel. You know….”

“No! I don’t know!” You stand from the breakfast table, too charged to sit still but too engaged to leave. “Nothing is going on between me and Gabriel. We’re just friends.”

The expression on Dean's face shows that he doesn’t believe a word out of your mouth. “The way you two look at each other. Nah, there’s nothing “friendly” about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You rack your brain, trying to recall how you look at him and how he looks at you, but fail to find anything not ‘friendly’ about it. Sure, he was handsome, fun, and easy to be around, but that doesn’t mean anything. “How do we—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The sound of wings fluttering makes you jump. Gabriel now sits opposite your spot at the table, and you can’t help but look at him now to examine his honey-tinted hazel eyes; they were beautiful. But they weren’t looking at you differently than you’d expect. Shit, were you looking at him funny? Like you wanted him?

Your skin tingled with embarrassment, and you forced yourself to sit back down and look away from him.

“Friends?” Dean wiggles his brows at you as he swiftly exits. Dropping a spanner in your brain's inner workings and exiting stage left. Asshole.

“What was that about?” Gabriel asks as he leans over to take your coffee. He sips, scrunches his lips, and proceeds to add an unholy amount of sugar. Old habits die hard. When you spend too long contemplating he nudges at you. “Hey, what’s up, hon?”

Hon. You’d never batted an eyelid at that or any other pet name he’d given you since becoming friends. So why was it making you feel funny now?

“Nothing.” You assure him as you stand once again and begin heading to the door. “I gotta go, I’ve got… stuff to do.”

“You want some company?” He swings around on the bench, ready to follow.

“No! No, thank you.” You shake your head as you leave without another word.

You didn’t see him again for a while, having taken off to hunt a pack of werewolves a few states over. You couldn’t deny that Dean had shaken something inside you. The fact that your instinctive response was to protest so adamantly was your first clue. The distance had given you time to clear your head. Enjoying someone’s presence and appearance didn’t mean you had to pursue anything more. He is your friend, and that’s all you need. You weren’t going to mess with the balance.

That’s what you told yourself as you entered your room to find Gabe inside. He’d clearly been making use of the space while you were gone. The trashcan was overflowing with empty candy wrappers, the bed was unmade, and a puddle of something fruity smelling seeped out from under your bedside table. One would think he didn’t have the power to clean all that up in a second. You might have complained, had you not also noticed that your laundry basket was empty, and your desk had been organised precisely the way you liked it. Priorities.

“You’re back!” He smiled as he crossed the room and engulfed you in a hug. He smelled warm and inviting, like mocha and malted sugar. Had he always smelled so good? You wondered as you melted into him. So engulfed, you almost missed the subtle way he sniffed in your own scent. You couldn’t help but hope he liked it. You’re not sure how long you stayed like that before Gabriel broke the silence. “Come on, get ready. The circus is in town.”

“The circus? Really?” You groaned as he released you. “I’m tired, I just want to chill.”

“You can chill later. We'll have a good time, I promise.”

“Why do you even want to go?” You ask as you dump your travel bag on the floor and dramatically collapse onto your bed. Trying to emphasise your tiredness.

“Why don’t you?” Gabriel approaches, standing over you and looking down at you sternly.

“Ummm, the crowds,” you lift your arm into the air, lining your hand up with his face as you count the reasons with your fingers: “the loud noises, the clowns…”

“I’ve seen your dating history.” Gabe bats your hand down before pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You love clowns.”

Usually, you would have laughed. That was a classic comeback, but he would almost certainly take your laughter as a victory, so you force a straight face and push back any creeping notions that maybe he was jealous of your exes.

“How long have you been on earth?” You ask him, readying your next argument. He shrugs, and you can sense his amused interest in where you’re going with this. “You could go to any circus, anytime, anywhere. Who gives a shit about some two-bit, washed-up roadside circus?”

You wonder briefly if you might subconsciously be comparing yourself to the circus. He’s an angel, after all, an archangel. Of all the beings on earth, why does he choose to spend so much time with you? Again, you shut down the thought process before it gets away from you.

Gabriel is looking down at you, brows furrowed. Instead of answering your question, he crosses his arms and asks, “Jeez honey, what bit you in the ass?”

“A werewolf.” You reply deadpan.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, and you notice how his eyes wander down your body. He can’t see your ass from his position, but you’re pretty sure he’s trying. The thought makes you feel flushed.

“No.” Playfully, you kick your leg at him until he gives way, allowing you space to stand and face him. “Okay, fine, but you’re paying.”

As you watch the trapeze artists flying across the tent, you admit to yourself that you were, in fact, having a good time. The acts were good, the clowns weren’t that scary, and the atmosphere was lively. Everything smelt like popcorn, and the stands weren’t as sticky as you’d feared.

You glance over at Gabriel, who is on his third cotton candy cone (you are totally not jealous of his metabolism). You could never confess to having a good time; he’d never let it go. Besides, if the smug side-eye he's giving you is any indication, he already knew.

“Want some?” He offers you the cotton candy, and you can’t stop from grinning as you lean over. Your fingers brush against his as you steady the cone to take a piece, and your cheeks start to warm up. 

The candy is sweet on your tongue, and you let your smile grow to show your approval. Gabe laughs in response. You begin to shift back to your seat, but you’re stopped by the feel of his warm hand on your lower back, tenderly holding you close to him as he quietly speaks. “You have got to stop looking at me like that.”

Your eyes widen, and you must look like a deer in the headlights because he’s laughing again. Laughing at you, is he teasing you.

“Looking at you like what?” Your voice is quiet, nothing like it had been when Dean accused you of the same thing. 

“Like…” He tilts his head back briefly, searching for the correct words. “Like you want me, in the biblical sense.”

If your eyes weren’t about to pop out before, they were now.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” He continues, now tilting his head forward until his face is almost pressed to yours. He’s been this close before, closer, in fact, so why was your breath hitching now? “Tell me to stop, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Maybe you should have slowed to think about it, although your answer likely would have been the same. You answer quickly, instinctively. “Don’t stop.”

Clowns and acrobats forgotten, you initiate the kiss before you talk yourself out of it. His lips are soft and sickeningly sweet, his stubble itches at your skin, but you immediately want more.

Sensing your neediness, Gabriel pulls your body closer and deepens the kiss. You’re about to open your mouth, to try for more access, but the sound of someone deliberately coughing distracts you both.

Your heads turn simultaneously to see a rather unimpressed mother glaring at you, and you both laugh in response.

“Wanna get out of here?” He quirks his head to the exit, and you nod. He holds your hand and follows close behind as you lead the way, down the stalls, outside the tent. As soon as you’re free from prying eyes he flies you back home. The perks of having an angel best friend, a boyfriend, a lover, a something who still has their wings. It only takes a second, but it still gives you a brief stint of motion sickness. When you’re steady on your feet again, you look over to Gabriel, suddenly feeling shy and unsure how to proceed.

He’s smiling at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s a smile entirely for your benefit. “If you’ve changed your mind, we don’t have to do anything.”

“No. No, I haven’t.” You assure him, reaching out and gently holding onto his upper arm as you step closer until you’re chest to chest. “I want this. I guess I just didn’t realise until... very recently.”

“Yeah.” The cheery glint in his eye returns. “I want you too.”

You initiate the kiss again, enjoying the now familiar sugariness of his mouth. This time he deepens the kiss without disruption, then your tongue brushes against his for the first time he lets out an involuntary moan that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

When you pull away to breathe, you watch his expression. Clearly aware of your stare, he darts his eyes over to the bed, then back at you, and gives his brows a suggestive wiggle. “Shall we?”

[deanscutiepiesam]

I can't stop thinking about that one post about how Lucifer should've been played by Jared when projecting the image of himself [this post, go read it. It's so good]. And I completely agree with them across the board. Sam, being his true vessel and the horrific impact it would have on him, would've been amazing to see explored. But I also think Lucifer should've been played by Jared because he was better for the character.

And I don't just mean this in an acting way, (though, I am biased. Jared has skills), but for the sake of the story and his likability. Obviously, we aren't supposed to like Lucifer, I don't, but I did like how he was written when Jared played him. Think of Endverse!Lucifer in his white suit. Telling Dean how no matter what, he'll always end up here. Think of Swan Song, where he was pleading with Michael. How Lucifer didn't want to hurt his brother, but he "left him no choice." He's almost oddly sympathetic, but then you have to remember he's literally trying to start the Apocalypse. He's manipulative. He's the devil. We've gotten accustomed to Jared's face being Sam, all soft and sweet, so that image being juxtaposed with evil incarnate is so powerful. Wolf in sheep's clothing and all that. Gives you chills.

Now compare that with Nick's Lucifer or even Casifer. Not even close (in my opinion, at least). I was talking to a friend of mine about this a while ago, but those versions of Lucifer don't even feel like the same guy. He went from an intimidating, genuinely scary, and interesting character to a "I'm so silly" comedian - and a weak one at that. And I know this was unfortunately because the show went the route of making Sam's cage trauma a joke, but why, though?? There was so much potential for Jared to play him, and even going the Nick vessel route, they could've written him not... like that.

And this isn't to say Lucifer can't crack jokes. I think, executed well, it could be funny and add to the horror. Supernatural has done funny bad guys before (like I personally enjoy Azazel's and Crowley's quips), and it works for them. But Lucifer just feels like a failed version of that. It doesn't fit his character, personally. And I know some people enjoy Nick's Lucifer and Casifer, and that's valid, but it just doesn't sit right with me. He loses aura points, and I don't enjoy watching him.

And once again, I know we aren't supposed to like him, but it's not even a dislike because he's a good villain; he's just annoying. He comes on screen, and I'm not scared or anxious, I'm annoyed. And it's frustrating because they did so well with him in my Jared examples. And not only that, it could've been a foundation for later seasons. (Imagine Sam!Lucifer doing the misunderstood guy facade to get Jack on his side. Like come on, we were robbed.)

Anyways, I don't know... I just had to get that out. Not sure if I made any sense, but I'm gonna trust I'm coherent enough for you to get the gist of it. Shout out to well written Lucifer. You will always be famous. I hope you die — oh, wait...

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 9

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, some smut.

Word Count: 6,553

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Since I haven't posted anything on this series for the last two weeks, I thought I'd get this chapter out to you guys early, instead of waiting for Saturday. I hope you think it was worth the wait. The last chapter will be posted on Saturday, April 13. Thanks for all your support of this series! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

3 weeks later

He’d lost them. They were gone. 

Their screams echoed in his ears as he came awake with a start, breathing hard and fast.

Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot, feeling Y/N shifting beside him. 

“Dean?” Her voice was squeaky and thick with sleep. 

She sat up and began rubbing her hand across his back as she moved to sit beside him. He didn’t need to explain why he was awake and breathing as though he’d run a mile.

Y/N kissed his shoulder and he felt the heat of her lips through his thin cotton t-shirt. “It was just a dream.” She kissed him again. “Just a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”

Dean nodded absently and then turned towards her and cupped her cheek in his hand; he needed to touch her, feel she was real. He kissed her lips, soft and brief before he turned to look at Emma sleeping across the tent. She looked so tiny, dwarfed even by the small cot.

Dean stood up and crossed to her. Her little limbs were completely tangled up in the blankets and her head was nearly hanging off the side of the cot. Dean leaned down and adjusted her position to something comfier. He untangled her and tucked the blanket around her properly before reaching up and pushing back her messy brown curls from her forehead. He trailed his knuckles over her soft cheek and took comfort in the sleepy sigh that escaped her.

He stood staring at her a moment before he felt Y/N come up behind him and take hold of his bicep, pressing another kiss into the muscle there. He turned to look at her and the concern in her gaze was obvious, making him feel guilty. He bent to kiss her again, more lingering this time, as he buried his fingers in her soft, silky hair.

She kissed him back and wound her arms around his waist. When he pulled away, the warmth of their kisses had burned away some of the worry in her eyes and he was glad. He kissed her forehead and nodded towards the cot. 

“Sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.”

She cocked her head and shot him a look with an arched brow. “So should you.”

Dean lifted one corner of his mouth in his best attempt at a smile.

“N’ah, I got my four hours. I’m good.” When Y/N opened her mouth to argue again he spoke before she could. “I have some stuff I gotta work on. So, you go back to bed.”

He pecked her lips once more and then stepped out of her arms, grabbing his jacket as he headed out; March may have been going out like a lamb, but there was still a brisk chill in the air outside the warm tent.

He knew he’d never be able to concentrate on any of the things that he actually should be doing so he just walked. He walked all through the camp, weaving between tents and nodding at the odd person who was out and about like him. He went to the garage and thought about working on Baby, but there really wasn’t any more he could do until they could go out and find her four new tires.

So he kept walking. He walked and walked until he came to the river. Most of its winter ice was broken up and within a couple weeks people would be able to come for cold baths once again which would be welcomed happily after months of unsatisfying basin baths. 

It was probably dangerous for him to be so far from camp without another  person, but he had his gun strapped to his thigh as always and the silence and wide open space around the edge of the river was soothing. He needed an escape from the relentless visions that swam in his mind’s eye. Horrific visions of Y/N and Emma being torn apart right in front of him.

He dropped to the ground to sit; his shoulders were bent and he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to gouge out the images. 

Every night for weeks now he’d had the same kinds of dreams. There was never any specific situation in the dreams, at least nothing he could remember. But he just knew Y/N and Emma were being hurt and it was his fault. 

Cas still hadn’t heard anything from the angels, no angel radio, and no contact from anyone. But his powers seemed to be mostly back. He still couldn’t teleport, but he could heal - they’d tested it again just to make sure it wasn’t a one time fluke. But Dean cut a long gash in his arm and the angel had mended it quickly and easily. Cas could also tap people to sleep, and he said he’d begun to “see like an angel” again. Dean wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded important. 

There was no doubt the angels were back on earth. And they’d be coming for him.

***

Later that afternoon Dean sat at their table, as Y/N planned out a lesson for the next day. But his mind was still miles away, desperately turning possibilities over and over in his mind. For the last couple of months, since they figured out the truth about Y/N, he, Y/N and Cas had been working on a game plan for how to track down other younger generation psychic kids, as well as figuring out how to go about searching for former scientists, doctors, researchers, or anyone who might know enough to try and create a vaccine. 

They knew it would be incredibly hard and time consuming, but they were determined. Or at least Cas and Y/N were determined. Lately Dean had begun considering another possibility.

As he sat worrying and contemplating things, Emma surprised him out of his stupor, climbing into his lap and putting her little hand on his cheek. 

Dean worked up a small smile for her sake, but it obviously wasn’t enough because she spoke in a solemn voice.

“Are you sad?”

Dean shook his head and forced his smile wider. “No, of course not.”

“You look sad.”

Dean marveled at the little girl’s intuition (she was her mother's daughter) but he shook his head again. “N’ah, I’m fine, kiddo. Just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“Nothing important, just some boring grownup things.” He tugged her braid and changed the subject. “How was school?”

Her eyes lit up and lost their look of worry. “It was good! Mommy read us a book about a dog. He was red and really huge!”

Dean chuckled. “Ah, yeah. Clifford.”

“Yeah!” Emma exclaimed excitedly. “Did you read that book before?”

He nodded. “Oh sure, there are a bunch of Clifford books. I used to read them all the time to…” He stumbled over his words for a moment, but cleared his throat and continued. “I used to read them to my little brother all the time when we were kids.”

As always, thoughts of Sam and who he used to be, sliced a deep cut into his heart, but he was used to how it bled so he could mostly ignore it. Emma’s bright blue eyes turned pleading.

“I want a dog like Clifford. Can we get one?”

Dean smiled. “Don’t think there’s too many dogs like Clifford out there. He’s pretty big and red.”

Emma shrugged. “K, just a normal dog then? Please?”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. Before he could say anything though, Emma was quick to explain herself. 

“He doesn’t have to live in the tent, he could just live in the camp. He could be our camp dog, like Lily is our camp cow.”

Dean sighed as Emma stared up at him, her little face imploring. “Pleeeease.” She repeated. He saw Y/N smirking out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

“We’ll have to see kiddo, okay?” He said with a kiss to the top of Emma's head. Her face fell a little but she shrugged. 

“M’kay.” She mumbled. 

Y/N stood up and reached for Emma’s hand to help her hop down off of Dean’s lap. “Okay, baby, go outside and run off some energy before supper.” She helped Emma into her jacket and the little girl bounded towards the exit. 

“Stay close to the tent.” Y/N called to her.

Emma gave a pout. “Can’t I go see Julianne and Keisha?”

“Fine, but no further.”

Emma took off quickly just in case Y/N changed her mind.

Y/N chuckled lightly and then walked over to where Dean sat. When she got there she lowered herself to her knees in front of him and laid her fingertips against his jaw. 

“Wanna talk about some of those boring grown up thoughts swirling around in your head and keeping you so distracted.”

Dean gave a half smile. “They’re pretty boring.”

“Try me.”

He shrugged and Y/N sighed. “Is this about the dream you had this morning?”

He shook his head. “Dreams. Every night. For weeks.”

Y/N’s brow crinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me about them sooner?”

“What’s to tell? They’re horrific and confusing.”

Dean felt his fear bubbling up in his chest, acidic and almost painful in its intensity. He couldn’t keep Y/N’s earnest gaze; he took the hand she held against his jaw and squeezed it between his own as he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“What if we…me, you and Emma, what if we just left?”

Y/N’s voice was incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked back at her and he knew his expression was probably desperate, but he couldn’t help it. He was desperate. 

“The camp would be fine with Cas in charge. And I’d get him to brand you and Emma and they wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“What are y-? Brand us?” Y/N asked, interrupting her own question.

Dean shook his head dismissively. “Just your ribs. It doesn’t hurt. I mean, not bad anyway. And it keeps them away, keeps them from tracking us.”

“Keeps who away?” Y/N asked, confusion clear on her face and in her voice.

“The angels.” Dean said low and quiet, feeling as though they might be listening in.

Y/N frowned. “Why would you want to hide from angels?”

Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas is an outlier, okay. Most angels are dicks, and some are downright sadistic.”

Y/N’s eyes were round now. “How…how can that be? Aren’t they…I mean I didn’t really go to Sunday School much as a kid, but aren’t angels supposed to be righteous? Aren’t they supposed to protect us?”

Dean scoffed. “In theory. But a lot of them can’t stand humans. And if they’re back now…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Okay but,” Y/N was obviously still confused, “even if that’s true, why would that make you want to run from the camp?”

He stared at her a long time, debating telling her everything, the danger they were all in if the angels found him, but in the end he just shook his head. Why should she have to carry around this same awful fear?

“No, it was just a stupid idea. I don’t like the angels, so I’m not anxious to see them again, but you’re right. Running is dumb.”

They’d find us somehow anyway. Dean thought to himself.

“Dean,” Y/N began, obviously not convinced by his dismissive answer. But before she could say more, he cut her off with a kiss. It might have started as a distraction, but that purpose immediately fell away as he delved his tongue into her mouth and devoured her. The soft sounds issuing from the back of her throat drove him crazy and suddenly it was as though he couldn’t get close enough.

He pulled away and they were both panting. Y/N’s smile turned mischievous and she dropped her hands from the open sides of his flannel to his belt buckle.

“Emma won't be back for a while. Think I’ve got time to put a smile on your face?” She said as she slid his belt open. But Dean put his hands on hers, halting her. 

“No, I wanna…” He trailed off and then stood up abruptly, grabbing Y/N’s wrist and pulling her along behind him. He could feel her confusion and he threw a wink over his shoulder as they left the tent. 

“Trust me.”

Y/N’s brow smoothed out and she grinned. “Okay.”

They left the tent and walked east, meeting Johnston along the way. Dean called out to him as they passed, but didn’t really slow down.

“Emma’s over at Monique's. Go tell her to stay there till we come pick her up.”

“Yes sir!” Johnston called back and he ran off to follow the order.

They walked briskly all the way to the garage. If anyone wondered about why the Boss was speeding across the camp with a dangling belt and Y/N in tow, no one stopped them to ask. Dean assumed they could figure it out. 

They reached Baby and Dean wrenched open the back door. Y/N’s face was beet red as she looked around surreptitiously and whispered in a scandalized voice.

“Dean it’s the middle of the day, there are people around.”

Dean shrugged. “So?” He paused a beat and then gave a sideways nod towards the door. “Get in.” He watched the fiery heat bloom in Y/N’s red-ringed eyes and his whole body hardened as it always did when he knew she was thinking lustful thoughts.

With a girlish giggle that made his heart happy and hurt in equal measure, Y/N climbed into the back seat. Dean followed her and closed the door behind him. The curtains were all still drawn, so he simply locked the doors before turning to Y/N and immediately capturing her lips again. He gently pushed her down on the leather seat beneath him. 

He spread kisses across her chest, and she sighed. “I’m gonna have to try and be quiet.” She whispered. 

Dean shook his head and spoke against her skin. “Don’t bother. You won't be.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow, someone’s sure of themselves.”

Dean slid his hand into the waistband of her leggings and pushed aside her panties to slide two fingers through her wet heat and rub them against her clit. Y/N gasped loudly and Dean arched a brow as he watched the pleasure ripple across her face.

“Do you doubt my abilities to make you scream?”

Y/N shook her head back and forth, letting out a keening moan as he pushed his fingers into her body, his jaw clenching at the way her cunt tightened around them. 

She reached for his waistband again, trying to open the button on his jeans, but Dean stopped her once again. 

“No, I just wanna touch you, just wanna watch you while I stroke you and pleasure you.” He found the spongy spot deep inside her, and swept across it teasingly. Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized that she was indeed failing to be quiet. 

He pulled out of her body and raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her essence from his fingertips. “You’re so fucking delicious, sweetheart.” He put his fingers to her lips, pushing them into her mouth and against her tongue to give her a taste before dragging them down over her chin and the long column of her neck as she arched her back.

He made quick work of stripping her so that she laid beneath him covered only in goosebumps. She reached up to pull off his shirts and he let her, so that she could pet her hands down his torso, and press her nails into his back as he dipped his head to suck on her pulse. He worked his way down her body, letting his tongue explore her, memorize her. 

He refused to try and dissect why he had such a thrumming need to burn every inch of her skin into his memory, to learn her sighs and moans like they were lyrics to his favorite song. 

In the back of his mind he knew why, but he shied away from the truth. He only wanted to feel her move beneath him, only wanted to taste her, only wanted to concentrate on the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she tried to hold in a moan and the way the sound burst out of her anyway when he speared her with his tongue.

He spent the next hour pulling her apart over and over until the sound of his name on her lips was a refrain he knew he’d never be able to forget.

***

A few more days passed and Dean did his best to avoid Y/N’s questioning glances. He didn’t want to talk about the fears that grew stronger inside him every day.

One night as he laid beside Y/N on the small cot, her arm around his waist and her face buried in his chest, he heard rustling outside the tent that sounded like footsteps. It was the middle of the night. There would be no reason for someone to be walking around their tent unless there was some kind of trouble.

He gently disentangled Y/N’s arms from around him and got up, grabbing his gun from just under the cot. As he was leaving he glanced at Emma to make sure she was sleeping peacefully, moving outside the tent when he could see that she was.

He couldn’t see anyone in the immediate area, so he moved stealthily through the tents. Finally he came out into the clear open area between the tents and the spring vegetable plots. He looked towards the big cabin, and couldn’t see anything amiss. Still, something felt off and he decided he’d go talk to the soldiers he had stationed at the southern post for the night.

But before he could move he heard a voice behind him that made his blood run cold.

“Dean! Long time no see!”

He turned slowly, his gun raised, to see the angel Zachariah standing barely six feet away. The angel’s smug round face was exactly the same, same watery gray eyes, same phony smile.

And then Dean realized why everything felt off and strange. He lowered his gun and dropped his arms back to his sides. 

“I’m dreaming.”

Zachariah continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were cold and calculating, just as they’d always been. “That’s right. Only way I could talk to you. We’ve been away so long.” 

He looked around the camp and his lip curled. “Can’t say I was very anxious to come back to this smelly, cold rock.”

“Well,” Dean said, his voice hard and quiet, “don’t let me keep you here.”

Zachariah waved at him. “Oh no, the uh boss man, Michael,” he thumbed towards the sky, “he said the time was right for us to strike, finally. At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, once Sam said the big yes and we lost him as a catalyst to make you say yes, I must admit, most of us just gave up. No apocalypse this go round.”

He shrugged. “Then Lucifer leveled the planet with his little virus and you all became very, very boring. And the prayers! Ugh, god! They were nonstop.” 

His voice took on a mocking whine. “‘Oh save us, heavenly hosts.’, ‘Help us god!’, ‘Save us from these monsters!’ It just went on and on!” He shuddered. “It was so loud all the time, so we just had to get away from the whining.”

Dean’s jaw was clenched so tight it was almost painful. He nodded and sneered. “Away from the helpless, dying people that you set up to be killed, you mean?”

Zachariah shrugged. “We tried to tell you that Michael had to be around to fight the adversary. But no, your stubborn independence was more important.”

Dean tried to keep his voice level. “What are you doing here now?”

The angel rolled his eyes. “You’re joking right? Come on Dean, your brother may have been the brains of your little operation, but surely you’re at least smart enough to figure this one out.”

Dean stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge the terror he could feel in the pit of his stomach.

Zachariah sighed deeply. “Come on Dean,” he encouraged, “I’ll help you out. So, if we left because you were so broken and useless when you found out your brother said yes, if we left because we knew we had nothing left to tempt you or force you to say yes…why do you think we’re back now?”

He paused as though he was a teacher waiting for a particularly dull student to answer an easy question.

Dean felt like he might throw up. “You think you can coerce me again now.”

Zachariah shot a finger gun at him. “Bingo! Except we don’t think we can, we know we can.” His voice became cold and lost its fake joviality. “You’ve got things to lose again.”

Dean felt like panic might be choking him and he desperately wanted to wake up and run. He shook his head at the angel superior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes again. “Dean, don’t be ridiculous. We may have been away, but we’ve still been keeping an eye on you. We know all about your little camp of misfit toys, including your pretty, near-monster girlfriend and her pink-cheeked little brat. You care for them, all of them.” He nodded slowly. “We can work with that.”

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he felt the walls of his nightmares closing in. “You can’t find us. You don’t know where we are, and Cas and I put up as much angel warding as he could take. You won’t locate us.”

Zachariah shrugged. “But you know we will. It’s just a matter of time. Unless you want to save us all some time and just tell me right now?”

Dean’s eyes were blazing with hate as he just stared silently.

“No?” The angel sighed deeply. “Well in that case, I’ll just say, see you real soon.”

Dean came awake slowly, but panic set in quickly. 

He jumped out of bed, calling to Y/N. “Sweetheart, get up. Now!”

Y/N rubbed her hand across her eyes and sat up. “Dean. What’s going on?” She asked in extreme confusion.

But Dean didn’t answer her. Instead he was shaking Emma awake. “Get up, baby. Emma!” The little girl grumbled sleepily, but Dean forced her to sit up. “I’m sorry kiddo, but you need to put on really warm pants and a shirt. Dress warm, we might be outside for a while, okay? Your big boots and your scarf too.”

“Dean, stop.” Y/N was standing up now and moved over to grab his arm. “What is this? What?”

Before Dean could answer Cas walked into the still dark tent, bringing a lantern with him. Dean turned to him and Cas’ usually stoic, solemn face showed fear.

“They’re coming.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Zachariah came to me in a dream.” He gritted his teeth. “Piece of shit.” 

“What’s the plan?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded and answered as he was rushing around, pulling on a flannel over his t-shirt. He’d worn his jeans to bed, so he simply shrugged into his green jacket and started loading up his duffle bag. 

“So, we gotta go.” He told Cas. “You need to brand them, so they’re off angel radar too.” He said, rubbing a hand across his ribs. “I figure if we head out within the hour, we might be able to get a decent head start on them.”

Cas was shaking his head as Dean finished. “You can’t just leave the camp. Zachariah will torch the whole thing just to draw you back.”

Dean refused to admit the truth in Cas’ words. “No, that’s…look if I’m not around he’d have nothing to gain from burning the camp. It wouldn’t -”

Cas cut him off. “I told you, he’d burn it to bring you back, or just out of sheer spite and you know it.”

Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument when Y/N’s shout interrupted them.

“Enough. Stop talking right this instant and explain to me exactly what it is that you’re talking about, or I swear I’m going to lose my mind.”

Silence reigned for a few moments as Emma stared up at them all as though she was in the middle of a very vivid and kind of scary dream.

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes for a moment before he decided she deserved to know the whole truth even if it was messy and painful. He’d just have to try and tell her quickly. 

He reached forward to squeeze her hand and then dropped it as he paced around the tent continuing to fill his duffle bag with supplies they’d need. 

“You remember me telling you about my brother Sam?” Y/N nodded, but Dean was just barreling on. “Well, I let it seem as though Sam died, but he didn’t, not really.”

Y/N was watching him roam around the room and he glanced at her quickly before continuing. “He’s uh, he’s Lucifer’s vessel. He’s…Lucifer took him over.”

Y/N’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. “Like…the devil? Are you telling me your brother is the devil?”

Dean shook his head and glanced at Emma, but she seemed to be half asleep as she watched them. “No, not really. Lucifer is just using his body, walking around in it. See angels don’t have form on earth, they’re just a bright white light. So, they have to possess a human, a vessel.”

Y/N looked over at Cas. “Wait, this isn’t what you really look like?” 

Cas shrugged. “Well, my vessel, Jimmy Novak, his soul is in heaven. His body was exploded into oblivion, by an archangel, which also should have destroyed me. But God brought me back, and fashioned me this vessel. But it’s only me in here now.”

Y/N stared at him, blinking slowly for a moment before tilting her head. “Um…what?”

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now.” Dean said dismissively before continuing with his rapid fire explanation.

“Unlike demons, an angel needs permission to enter a human body, they need the person’s consent. So, at some point, Sam said yes to the devil. I don’t know why. I wasn’t…I wasn’t around when he said yes.”

He looked back at Y/N and he could tell she was desperately trying to take in all he was saying; her voice was contemplative as she spoke. 

“Okay, that’s…I’m so sorry, Dean. That must have been horrible for you. But I’m still unclear about why we’re running away. You said the other day you wanted to hide from the angels? Why?”

Dean took in a deep breath, straightening up and finally dropping his duffle bag to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Because I’m a vessel too.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide again. “For Lucifer?”

Dean shook his head and resumed his movements, no longer packing, just pacing. “No, for Michael, another archangel. The angels all believed Sam and I were destined to be their vessels on earth, allowing them to fight some epic battle that would bring on the apocalypse.” His voice was harsh with anger. 

“When we found out about these supposed destinies, we both swore we wouldn’t do it, that they couldn’t make us. But I…well, I abandoned Sam, so I have no idea what they did to make him say yes. I was hurt and angry, and I truly thought we’d do better apart. So, I left my little brother to deal with the devil by himself.”

He stopped pacing and turned away from Y/N completely. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Dean.” Y/N’s voice was soft but he turned back to her and waved away her sympathy.

“None of that is the point though. The point is that they could never get me to say yes, but they were desperate to. And now they’re coming back because…well according to the asshole angel who was just in my dream, I have -” he closed his eyes. “I have something to lose now.”

Y/N’s face was scared, but he could see she was fighting to keep her voice level. “Okay, can I ask, maybe…I mean, if you said yes, then wouldn’t that make you powerful, maybe you could try to fight the devil, maybe you could push him out of your brother. Or maybe, I mean if angels can heal, think of all the good you could do in this sick world with that kind of power.”

Dean was shaking his head. “No, Y/N you don’t understand. If I say yes and Michael takes over, I’ll be…I’ll be gone. I’ll have no power inside my own body. I won’t be able to make any decisions or do anything to change Michael's course. And his only course would be to end Lucifer and end my little brother in the process.”

“And,” Cas interjected, “Archangels rarely leave a vessel alive.”

Dean wished Cas had left out that little tidbit as Y/N’s face became more and more horrified. She took deep steadying breaths as Emma finally climbed out of her cot and walked over to Dean to wrap her arms around his forearm. 

“You’re going?” She asked in a sleepy voice. Dean shook his head but before he could answer her they heard a loud scream and Cas stiffened. 

“It’s too late. They’re here.”

Dean's stomach clenched so tightly it felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Within seconds they could smell smoke and hear the crackle of flames. Dean grabbed Emma up in his arms and ran out towards the noise. As they emerged from the tents they could see the big cabin burning in the distance, flames shooting high. 

Standing barely ten feet in front of them was Zachariah and four other angels.

As they stood staring at the angels, Johnston and Risa joined them, seeming to understand instinctively that this ominous, incongruous group of men in suits were a bigger problem than the fire.  

They all looked to where the campers were gathering and scrambling forward with buckets of water from the rain barrels that sat beside the school and storage shed. They quickly formed an assembly line and began moving the buckets back and forth to the cabin. 

But Dean could see they wouldn’t be able to save it. The best they could do was keep the fire from spreading to the surrounding trees. 

He looked at Zachariah with hatred dripping from his pores. “Stop this, right now, you son of a bitch.”

Zachariah pretended offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A lightning bolt struck it. Just an unlikely act of God.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but when the angel’s gaze fell on Emma as she clung to Dean’s neck, he turned to Y/N who pulled her daughter away and then set her on the ground behind her. Instantly Johnston, Risa and Cas closed ranks in front of Y/N and Emma.

Zachariah just smiled. “Aw, that’s really adorable.” He looked back at Dean. “But you know the strength I wield. Do you really think your little wall of protectors is gonna stop me?”

Dean’s mind was reeling, terrified and racing for solutions to this utterly inescapable situation.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Zachariah’s face became thunderous. “We are NOT playing this game again, Dean Winchester!” He barked out before snapping his fingers.

Suddenly Johnston fell to his knees, clutching his throat as blood bubbled over his fingers. Y/N and Emma screamed in horror and Risa shouted out a denial as her friend and brother-in-arms fell at her feet. Cas turned, reaching out to touch the soldier to try and heal him, but two angels bolted forward to hold him back. 

Dean scrambled to Johnston’s side, across from where Risa knelt. The young soldier was deathly pale as Dean held his head in his hands.

“It’s okay, soldier. You hear me? Stay, stay with us now.” He ordered him, even though he knew he was asking for the impossible. Red blood stained the young soldier’s neck and his shirt as his life's blood spilled into the muddy, wet ground beneath him.

“Eric.” Dean called to him softly as he gripped his shoulder. “Eric.” The young man looked up at him and it was the first time he’d ever looked at Dean without fear or trepidation of some kind in his eyes. A soft smile graced his lips and Dean wished he knew what he was seeing as he closed his eyes and let his last breath rattle from his chest. Risa pressed her forehead to his, crying quietly.

Dean’s gaze was scorchingly hot as he stood back up and looked across at the uncaring monster in front of him.

Zachariah shrugged. “Just a little reminder of how quick I can make everything change.” Again he looked at Emma where she was crying in Y/N’s arms, and raised his arm to snap his fingers again.

“No!” Dean screamed out, leaping in front of Y/N and Emma as though he could possibly save them if that snap came. “Okay, yes! Yes!” He shouted.

His breathing was ragged and tears clogged his throat. “Yes. Please. Please don't hurt them.” He hated that he was begging, but he’d do whatever it took to keep Y/N and Emma breathing and safe.

Zachariah slowly lowered his hand, a smug smile on his sneering face. “Glad negotiations went better this time around. So, let’s call Micheal down shall we?”

Dean held up a hand. “Yes, but just…put out that fire.” He said pointing at the still blazing inferno. Some people seemed to realize that something was happening across the camp, but they were all quite occupied putting out the fire. Zachariah shrugged and nodded and the blaze was suddenly out, black smoke rising from the ruins of the big cabin.

Dean took a deep breath. “And let me…say goodbye to them.” 

Zachariah rolled his eyes but waved at him to hurry up. Dean turned to Cas, ignoring the asshole angels who were no longer holding him, but were still close behind. He called Risa over and she finally left her friend’s side to join them. He put a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“The camp’s gonna need you both to help get past all of this. I know you won’t let them down.” They nodded and Dean pulled them into a three way hug, before clapping a hand to Cas’ neck. “You take care of Emma and Y/N, you promise?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. I will.” The angel’s bright blue eyes were dull, but his voice was strong and Dean knew he meant it with his whole angelic being.

Finally he turned to Y/N and Emma and his heart lurched at their tear stained faces, both so alike. As he approached them, Emma ran out of Y/N’s arms and he dropped to a knee so he could wrap his arms around her as she launched herself at him.

Her hot tears soaked into his jacket as sobs shuddered through her small frame. “Don’t go.” She whispered brokenly. Dean squeezed her tighter before he pulled her back so he could look at her. He brushed back her always unruly curls from her forehead and kissed her there. 

“I gotta go, kiddo. I’m so sorry.”

Emma took big hiccuping breaths as she responded. “Because of the bad man?” She said looking across the clearing at Zachariah.

Dean forced her to look away from the sadistic angel. “Yeah, baby, because of the bad man. But I…” He brushed away her tears from her cheeks. “Need you to know that I’d stay if I could. If I could, I’d never walk away from you. I swear.”

Emma nodded and he prayed she would remember that and be reassured that another father hadn’t just walked away from her.

He tried to smile, but worried she saw through it. He pulled her close again, and spoke quietly. “I love you bigger than big.”

Emma sniffed and spoke into the front of his shirt. “And taller than tall?”

He pulled away and managed a real smile as he cupped her cheeks. “And taller than tall.”

He stood up and took Emma’s hand, ushering her over to Risa who picked her up and rubbed the little girl's back as she sobbed. 

He moved towards Y/N, and stared at her for a moment, completely incapable of saying goodbye.

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling fat and fast. She looked slightly shell-shocked by everything that had happened in barely an hour. Her voice was shaky and thick.

“I don’t know what to…” She shook her head again. “This can’t possibly be happening.”

Zachariah’s bored tone cut between them. “Oh, it’s happening. And it better happen faster if we don’t want any more acts of God to occur.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to pull Y/N into his embrace. He lowered his voice so only she could hear, murmuring the words against her temple. 

“Don’t think about this. Don’t think about what’s happening. Instead imagine we’re still just lying in bed. I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe. We can hear Emma talking in her sleep across the room. Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.” He pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Visit me there from time to time, okay?”

Y/N was nodding, and her breathing was ragged. But she reached up and kissed him gently. “This isn't goodbye. It can't be. I won’t believe it. So, as far as I’m concerned, we’ll be back there, in that moment soon.”

Dean gave her a tilted smile. “I love you, you know? I should have said it so much sooner, cause it’s been true for a long time.”

Y/N closed her eyes as though she was in pain. Maybe she was, he was; it felt like a ton of bricks was crushing his chest.

But he concentrated on her bright, red-ringed eyes as she spoke. “I love you too. So much.” Y/N’s tight smile crumpled and she fell back into his arms sobbing.

As Dean crushed her against him one last time, he could hear Zachariah groan in frustration and then begin chanting words in Enochian. The atmosphere began to change around them as the earth rumbled. Dean felt himself being pulled out of Y/N’s arms as Zachariah’s patience ran out and he yanked him away. 

“Don’t look at the light!” Dean called to Y/N as a blinding white light enveloped them all. He heard a kind of whispering in his mind, it wasn’t exactly words, but he understood it. It was a question.

He looked back at Y/N and Emma and gave the only answer that would keep them safe.

“Yes.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

[cheynovak]

Divine 

Michael/Dean Winchester x F/Reader Y/N   

Warnings:mentioning of emotional damage, slight sexual tension, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

-- 

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

-- 

Dean made the mistake of letting Michael take over his body. While Michael made plans on destroying the humanity he met up with different monster leaders, a few of whom he meets up in a jazz bar he started to appreciate or was it the waitress, Y/N.  

A spark of curiosity hit him when he the young spiritual woman crossed his path. Realising he might have more in common with humans than he wants.  

-- 

Michael set foot in the dark lit bar downtown, marching to the same spot he had been claiming almost every day this week. He didn’t need to scan the area to know she was here. The soft smell of her parfum lingered in the air, mixed with the smell of alcohol.  

Michael noticed how a lot of women in this era smelled fruity and flowery, to him it smells cheap, but not her, no she had a scent that smelled like old money, deep and warm, almost...divine. 

He folded his coat neatly over the back of the chair next to him, the flat cap on top of his coat. Before he could turn around a glass of scotch appeared on the table in front of him. He saw how her nails were perfect as usual, slightly longer and a deep red colour, elegant.  

“The usual I presumed?” She said with a steady and sweet voice.  

His lips twitched almost into a smile. Slowly Michael looked up to the young woman next to him. Her lips were coated in the red lipstick that matched her nails. He noticed she wore that lipstick almost every night.  

Michael’s brow lifted while he looked at her.  

He saw how her lips turned into a soft smile. “I noticed you’re becoming a regular on my shift. If this is not what you wanted tonight, please let me know, sir.” Oh, he liked the respect she gave him. “This will be fine.” she nodded before turning on her heels.  

While his fingers moved the glass to his mouth, taking a slow sip, he couldn’t keep himself from glancing over to her. Seeing how she walked around with a flair, he could almost compliment his father on his creation. 

Almost a shame she too would soon be gone.  

After a few hours Y/N noticed him still sitting alone, the bar ran empty as she walked over to him.  

”Can I get you anything else, Sir?” She saw the look on his face, how it shifted from irritated to calm and well put together. “No, I think I might leave.”  

“They didn’t show up, did they?” She didn’t want to cross the boundaries, but she was too curious not to ask. Wanting to know a bit more about the handsome stranger walking into her bar every day for the last week.  

His eyes frowned, “The business partners, you meet here every day.” she added. Micheal realised she had been keeping an eye on him just like he had on her. “No...” he started “But why don’t you join me?”  

Y/N’s eyes widen, she looked around the bar, the place was empty, except from one customer at the bar who was talking to the bartender. She glided elegant on to the chair in front of Michael, “why not...” she lingered a little on the last word, wondering what his name was.  

And almost like he could read her mind he said “Michael.” she nodded slow, looking into his eyes. “Y/N” His eyes broke the connection and glided down over her. Stopping at her necklace. “You’re religious?”  

Her fingers instinctively reached for the small golden cross on her neck. “Well, I guess I am.” Michael’s eyes lock on hers again. “I hear doubt.” She smiled nervous “I believe... in god and... heaven and hell.” she thought for a second.  

“But?” he pushed. “I don’t believe in blindly following what people think is gods will.” Her breath hitched when Michael’s brow lifted again, his beautiful eyes scanning her body again. The weight of his eyes makes her feeling warm and blush.   

“How about Angels?” he asked casual. She smiled, “please don’t tell a cheesy pick-up line going to follow.”  

“Don’t worry, I know you are no angel.”  

Even though she hated the “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, or heaven is missing an angel” lines. But his brutal answer did sting. “Jesus, thanks.” she sighs soft. Just as she wanted to lift her off her seat he continued.  

“But there is something... graceful about you.”  

A short silence fell upon them before she broke it. “How about you Michael, do you have fate?” This was the first time she noticed him smiling. He looked away when he answered. “My father made it impossible not to.”  

“I get it.” - “I doubt that” he answered sharp.  

 

“My father was a preacher.” She said, “A self-proclaimed man of God’s word. As a kid I called him a storyteller.” Michael’s lips curled into another soft smile. Fuck she burned up when he did that. “I guess our father are more alike than I thought.” 

“Anyway, I should leave you to it.” She said after a short silence between them. Just as she lifted herself of her chair Michael did the same. His hand wrapped around her arm. Even though it was a normal gesture she could feel the strength in his muscles.  

“Have you ever visited the old church on the edge of the city?“ he asked.  

Her eyes met his, only now realising how tall he is. “No, I haven’t it is supposed to be sold to an old art collector, many years ago. It’s private property now. Or that was what my dad said.” Michael nodded, “ I know the man who bought it.”  

“Let me take you.” he said stretching his arm out to guide her to the door. He saw how Y/N doubted. “I promise it is worth your time.” While she looked at the door her thoughts slipped past her mouth. “You know that’s what serial killers say.”  

There it was again, the grin on his perfect face. “I’m not planning on killing anyone tonight. “she could feel his eyes lingering on her. “Specially not you.”  

Once outside he put his hat back on, looking how she raised her hand.  

Y/N called for a taxi, which quickly stopped. Michael opened the door for her. “What a gentleman” she winked. The ride there was silent, filled with nerves and maybe even a little fear.  

The taxi dropped them off at the gate near the old church, the premisses seemed abandon but there was a soft light coming through the glass stained windows.  

Michael opened the large doors like he owned the place. “Who is there? Show yourself!” An old man yelled holding a riffle in his hand. “Joseph, it’s me old friend.” Y/N could see how the old man who seemed nearly blind was trying to figure who he was talking to.  

And then it hit him.  

“M-Michael?” he whispered “Oh good lord... You came back!” The man rushed towards the entrance. “I kept everything like you wanted sir! No one came in, everything is still in place! I told you it would be a good idea to keep me! I-I listened to every word you said, sir.”  

Y/N didn’t pay much attention to what the old man was saying.  

Her eyes roamed the inside, eyes trailing the paintings on the walls and ceilings, the stories that were told on the windows, the marble statues that were displayed. “Amazing.” she said while breathing out softly.  

“Leave us be Joseph.” Michael ordered the old man when he saw Y/N walking up to a painting hidden behind a curtain. Her perfect manicured hand pulled the fabric aside. Revealing a painting of Michael as an angel.  

Y/N felt the warmth of Michael’s body behind her. “Michael” she started mesmerised by the beauty of the painting. “What is this place.” her head turned to him, but her eyes lingered a second longer on the art before looking at him.  

“Call it a private collection.” He noticed how she really took in his features before looking back at the painting and again back at him. To distract her he decided to test her on her knowledge. “What do you know about archangels?”  

She answered on autopilot, she blurred out everything she had been told on Sunday school. 

Michael noticed the warm feeling he got when she started to talk, even though all she said was what humans learned in church.  

Michael could feel the warmth radiate from her skin, he wondered how soft her flesh would feel under his strong hands. “I often wondered...” she walked closer to his painting, breaking his thoughts. “Why god made humans while he already made angels.”  

“I mean...” she turned back to Michael. “When I got older, I noticed the similarity in angels and humans. Did that disappoint me, he just made more useless angels in human forms.” - “Explain yourself” Michael’s voice echoed in the empty church.  

“Well, take my family for example. I’m the oldest of 4 daughters. My dad used to be in church everyday, leaving me to take care of my little sisters. And whenever they did something they shouldn't it was my mistake.”  

“In a way I presume that god and his angels are just another fucked up family. I feel for Michael, the way he carried the weight of the family on his shoulders, while every last one of them took all he did for granted.”  

“You’re the oldest?” he asked taking a step closer.” hm-hm.”  

“No mother? Just a father?” she nodded in response to his question.  

 

“Let me guess, you did anything to please him, your father? But when the youngest fell out of line you were to one to blame, he needed you to get them back and punish them or their behaviour.” His voice sounded very close.  

Y/N looked beside her, seeing how Michael bended a little forward so his lips where near her ear.  

“Y-yes, how did you know...” the words came trembling out of her mouth, goose bumps covered her spine. Y/N turned fully around to look at Michael. He didn’t take a step back, their faces almost touched.  

Michael’s eyes looked back and forward between her glistering eyes and her soft red lips. Starting to understand why many of their angels where seduced to having intercourse with a human.  

Y/N’s eyes wander back into the old church, not idea of the thoughts roaming his mind “Joseph doesn’t own this place, does he?”  

 

“No.” Michael’s voice was stern, trying to get a grip. “How long have you known him? “ She added, trying to break the electric feeling rushing through her veins.  

“Few years.” He saw how the wheels in her head were spinning.  

“You know, Michael this place was sold over ten decades ago... So, when you said you know the owner you were referring to...” Her eyes locked back on to his perfect green pearls. “Me.” Her eyebrow flicked up before she started to laugh.  

“Nice try, but serious.” her smile faded.  

Just when she thought he couldn’t get any closer to her, he did. Her head tilted back. “You know... you and I are much alike.” the back of his hand caressed her cheek. “You really get me, Y/N. I never thought a human being would see through the stories that have been told since the beginning.” 

“Human being, beginning, what?” she repeated. He didn’t answer her. “I never thought I would be so invested in a human’s life. But you... you trigger something in me.”  

Y/N tried to take a step back, every warning sign inside her went off. Nerves where jumping, she wanted to get as far away from him as she could. But when she planned on taking the step she felt his free hand on the back of her neck.  

“It’s such a shame there is no inch of grace floating inside your veins.” Y/N’s breath hitched. “M-Michael, you’re scaring... what do you mean, who are you?”  

 

“I am, Michael.”  

Y/N’s brows frowned and then she followed his glance over to the painting behind her. “Wha... No.” she turned back and all she could see was the beautiful white blueish glow coming from his eyes.  

And although she knew it was best to run for her life, the revelation in front of her nailed her to the ground. As Michael took a step back the walls behind him covered with a black shadow portraying wings.  

Y/N breathed heavy, unable to tear her gaze of him while he walked slowly back to her. His hand took its place back on her cheek while his eyes looked at her slightly parted lips. Her hand hold onto his side. 

Trying to understand all that happened, she felt scared yet excited, a rush she couldn't quiet explain. When Michael bowed closer to her, she didn’t move.  

And right before he closed the gap between them, placing his angelic lips on hers, he whispered:

“Oh help me father, for I am about to sin.”  

--

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[fellshish]

The way dean and cas say each other’s name is so different too. Dean has two ways of saying cas and they are both very breathy. A slightly beggy and low Cas and a more loud desperate Cas! While cas also has two distinct ways of saying dean. One, kind of annoyed with the stubborn michael sword, the slightly dommy Dean. Two, and this one is the worst, lovesick soft broken when dean is hurting, either physical or mental. Dean.