#supernatura fanfic

[pumpkinspice-prouvaire]

Happy Spooky Season everyone! I hope you enjoy this spooky fic which I have been spinning in my mind like a rotisserie chicken since March!

If you can handle the content warnings, check this one out because it was a lot of fun, a lot of work, and there's a lot of content to come 👀

*** Summary:

Because Grantaire doesn’t feel that way about him. Grantaire is his friend, and Enjolras will love him from a distance, and that’s the way it’s always been, the way it’s always going to be.

Enjolras’ blood freezes in his veins.

It’s so obvious.

This isn’t Grantaire.

Word count: 13, 640 (Chapter 1/2)

Pairings: Enjolras/Grantaire

[senashenta]

Falling Stars

Title: Falling Stars

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut ABOUNDS.

Summary: Five years into their relationship and Dean catches a job in Cas’s now-hometown of Tallahassee, Florida. Cas puts his boyfriend up in his place, rather than a motel, because that seems like the logical thing to do. The two of them live a life of slightly weird domesticity while Dean is there and make a decision that could have life-altering consequences. But before they can go through with it… Castiel is Called home.

Notes: If you’re just coming into this, I highly recommend you read the other fics in the series, just click on the “Horror High et al” Master Post link and everything is listed in order. Literally everything has varying degrees of smut in it, so be prepared. :D

Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas, as the rest of this series has been, and as it will continue to be. With… with the exception of that ONE SCENE in Everything I Do. And… and one scene in Storm Season. Yeah. :D;;

My original intent was to write this exclusively for the sake of smut and fluff, but somewhere along the line it developed an actual plot. Go figure. Anyway, Falling Stars leads directly(ish) into Storm Season, which is the ACTUAL sequel to Horror High.

I’ll start posting chapters of Storm Season in December (on Thursday the 5th) after the NaNo is over because I’m going to be trying to write an original novel for the NaNo this year—no fanfiction for the month of November! (Except maybe some editing! :P) Wish me luck!!

So, to the VERY few of you who have come this far with me… see you then and thank you! <3

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

FALLING STARS By Senashenta

[Almost there. Just gassing up. Can’t wait to see you.]

Cas’s apartment was small and large at the same time. Small because it was a bachelor apartment, but large in that it was, well… large, for what it was. Big enough for him to set up separate bedroom and living room areas, with a nook to the one side that fit his desk and a set of bookshelves nicely. His dresser and the rest of his bookshelves were along the wall opposite his bed. The closet was big. The kitchen was tiny but functional. The bathroom was full-sized, even for a bachelor apartment. The rent was a steal, considering.

Still, when he had found the place the summer after his first year at Florida State, he’d had to find a job to pay for it regardless, and that was how he had ended up working at a gas station downtown, Gas-n-Sip, part-time. He wore the uniform vest and everything. His father was also helping to fund him, but Cas liked the idea of making his own way, even if it wasn’t entirely.

Before his apartment, for the first year he’d been attending Florida State, Cas had been living in the dorms and rooming with a young man named Alfie. Alfie was friendly, kind and studious, and they got along very well, but Cas hadn’t liked the dorm environment. How loud and raucous it could get—or the pressure from all sides to drink and party when that really wasn’t who he was or what he was into.

Hence his apartment search after first year.

And he had been living there, along with Itsy and Marshmallow, for almost four years now—and this would be the first time Dean would see the apartment, not counting the tours Cas had given him occasionally while they were video chatting.

The two of them had continued their relationship for all of this time, relying on technology and real-life meetups across the country to get them by, and against all odds it was still working. Cas and Dean were possibly closer than ever, though it had been nearly three months since they had last gotten together—which brought things back around to Dean seeing his apartment for the first time.

The older man was actually going to be in Tallahassee for a job, without his dad, so naturally Cas had offered to put Dean up at his place. There was no way Dean was going to be staying at some fleabag motel downtown when Cas could have him in his bed, instead. Absolutely no way. (Dean hadn’t argued the issue.)

Now, Dean was due to arrive any minute, according to his last text, and Cas was wandering around the apartment, fussing over everything, trying to make sure it was all perfect and in order—except for his bed which was, of course, chronically unmade.

Dean would be getting in just after dinner time, and (assuming he hadn’t grabbed food on the road), Cas was planning to drag him to the Canopy Road Café, a diner nearby where he worked that he had eaten at a few times. He’d thought occasionally that Dean would like it. Then again, Dean might be tired of diner food. They could always order in. Either way was fine with Cas.

When he heard the car pull up outside, Cas moved over to the window, surprised to see the black Impala in one of the parking spots in the side of the building. How Dean had gotten his dad to let him take the car was beyond him. But there he was, climbing out of the driver’s side and hauling a heavy-looking duffle bag along with him. Cas was smiling already.

He managed to wait until he heard Dean’s footsteps coming up the stairs from the landing before hurrying over and yanking the door open. Dean was standing there with one hand raised, about to knock, and blinked slightly before breaking into a huge grin. “You should see how much you’re smiling right now.”

“Probably about as much as you are.” Cas replied, and stepped aside to let Dean in, closing and locking the door behind him. Then he turned around and leaned back against the door, watching Dean look around the apartment for a minute, taking everything in.

When green eyes landed on the unmade bed, Dean laughed. “Some things never change, huh?”

Cas shrugged. He had never seen the point in making his bed every morning just to mess it up again that night. He and his father had argued over that idea until they were both blue in the face, until Chuck had finally just thrown his hands in the air and allowed it—as long as Cas kept the rest of his belongings in order.

“This is nice, Cas.” Dean said finally, after inspecting the apartment for a couple of minutes. He hefted his duffle bag up and set it on top of the blanket box at the foot of the bed, next to the cat bed that sat on one end, then eased over and leaned in for a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Cas returned the kiss easily, smiling into it and sliding his arms around Dean’s waist. “I missed you.”

“Mm, me too. But about yo—” And then he started to sneeze. Cas had almost forgotten about Dean’s cat allergy. But Marshmallow was right there snoozing on the couch and his hair was all over the apartment, so this had been inevitable.

Luckily, Cas was prepared. He let go of Dean, leaving him having a sneezing fit in the main room, and ducked into the bathroom, where he pulled a bottle of antihistamines out of the medicine cabinet. Then he returned to Dean’s side and, opening the bottle, tipped a couple into his hand and held them out for the older man to take. “Here. These will help.”

Dean practically snatched the pills, swallowing them dry in-between sneezes, and then they attempted to continue their conversation around the sneezing with minimal success. Eventually Cas just dragged Dean over to the couch, shooed Marshmallow off of it, and sat them both down. They could just sit together until the meds kicked in, that was fine too.

Twenty minutes later, Dean’s sneezing finally subsided, and he sniffled slightly before rubbing at his nose and offering, “I forgot you had a cat for a minute.”

“Yeah, um, so did I. But I bought the pills a couple days ago just in case this happened.” Cas gave him a sheepish smile, “sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize. You had the meds, problem solved.” Dean chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, humming pleasantly when Cas leaned into his side and brought one hand up to toy with the front of his shirt. “I should probably get out of my jacket. It’s warm in here.”

“Because it’s the top floor, and there are lots of windows.” Cas agreed, “I keep thinking I should get a plant, it would probably do well here. But I guess a lot of houseplants are poisonous to cats, and I don’t know which ones, so so far, I haven’t chanced it.” He didn’t want Marshmallow getting curious and ending up sick, after all.

“That’s fair.” Dean eased away just enough to get out of his jacket and toss it over the arm of the couch, then pulled Cas back into his side again. “I know it’s only been three months since Topeka, but I missed the hell out of you. It’s been tough lately. Dad’s really been all nose to the grindstone.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas nosed into Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss against his pulse gently. “If it helps, I missed you, too.” Then he lifted his head and asked curiously, “your Dad let you take the Impala?”

“You saw that, huh?”

“I looked out the window when I heard you pulling in.”

“Dad gave me the Impala,” Dean grinned at him, “just… out of the blue, a couple months back. Decided to get a truck. Baby’s all mine now.”

“But you said he loved that car!”

“He still does, he’s just…” A shrug and Dean leaned in, angling for a kiss, “moving on, I guess. I’m not complaining.”

“Mm.” Cas hummed a happy noise at the kiss, leaning into Dean further before drawing back and tugging at his shirt gently. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry? I know you were on the road all day…”

The other man chuckled and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “I should probably eat something, yeah.”

“Great,” Cas’s eyes closed over at the kiss to his forehead, and he smiled up at Dean, happiness just brimming over in him. That was what Dean made him feel: utter joy. “I know a really good diner downtown, if you’re up for a walk, or we could order takeout if you’d rather stay in.” He still didn’t cook, and his kitchen showed it, if you cared to look. “Maybe Chinese?”

Dean perked at that. “I haven’t had Chinese in forever. Might be a nice change from the food I usually get on the road.”

Cas’s smile turned fond. “Chinese it is, then. Let me get the menu.”

The next little while was spent going over the menu for Cas’s local Chinese takeout place, playfully bickering over what to get before coming up with a list of dishes that was probably way too long for just two people. They ordered it all anyway. The nice lady on the other end of the phone said it would be about forty minutes, and that was dinner sorted.

While they waited, Dean took a wander around the apartment, actually looking at everything properly. There were some things he recognized from back in Cas’s bedroom in Jacksonville when they were still in high school, but Cas had amassed quite a bit more over his years in Tallahassee—more books, certainly, as well as…

“You actually own DVDs?” Dean sounded astonished. He crouched down to look at the shelves next to the television, where maybe two dozen movies were currently housed, reading over the titles with an amused little smile on his face. He seemed to approve.

“Well, I check out all the ones you recommend to me.” Cas explained, “and some of them have been really good, so I picked them up. I don’t watch them very often, though, you know I’m more of a book person.”

“I know.” Dean straightened again and continued his inspection of the apartment with Cas trailing along behind him. When he got to the dresser, which had Itsy’s terrarium sitting on top of it, he paused again. “How long do these things live, anyway?” He asked, peering into the tank curiously. “You’ve had it a long time, right?”

“Male desert blonde tarantulas live six to eight years, but females can live over twenty-five.” Cas shrugged, “I’ve had Itsy for… seven years now, I think? But I don’t know if he’s male like I’ve been calling him or actually a female. I guess if he dies in the next year or two, I can assume he was male?”

“Otherwise, you’re in for the long haul.” Dean grinned and straightened up, “forget me, this thing’s the real love of your life.”

Cas swatted at his arm, but he was still smiling. “Not funny, Dean.”

“I thought it was funny.” Dean protested.

But Cas still shook his head and reached to grab hold of Dean’s arm, pulling him closer and leaning in for a kiss. Dean hummed into it and Cas sighed. “You are, though.” He said after a moment, “the love of my life. Even if we were to break up, or something was to—happen—to you, with the Hunting. I wouldn’t ever… in my whole life…” Trailing off for a moment, he swallowed and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, eyes closed. “No one could compare to you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, closing his own eyes and tugging Cas closer so he could wrap his arms around the younger man. “Hey,” He said softly, “nothing’s going to happen to me, you know? But even if something did… Cas, I know how you feel, you know I do. You’re it for me. Have been for years. But if something ever happened to me, you can’t just… cut yourself off like that.” He smiled gently, opening his eyes again, “find someone else who completes you. Be happy.”

“Dean…” Cas really didn’t like talking about this, because he knew, realistically, that at best he and Dean had a few more years together before it was all over. That was the life Dean lived. Either the other man would get himself killed somehow—or he would eventually tire of Cas and the long-distance thing and move on entirely. He didn’t say any of this. Instead, he went for another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Came Dean’s immediate reply, soft and warm.

And that was enough for now. Besides, the delivery guy was knocking at the door.

-- --

That night they made love in Cas’s mess of a bed, and it was so, so satisfying in every conceivable way. When they were done, and just cuddled up together in the disheveled blankets, Dean looked up at the ceiling and commented that Cas should have brought his stars from his bedroom back home. He missed the stars.

“I did bring them,” Cas replied, fingers touching along Dean’s bare chest lightly, just mapping and petting, “they’re in a box in the closet. I just never got around to putting them up. Too busy with school and work and you.”

“I’m third on the list?”

“Dean.”

Dean laughed and shifted around until he was on his side, and they were facing each other. He gave Cas a smile. “Let’s put them up. At least some, over the bed. That way you can fall asleep under the stars every night. I like the sound of that.”

Cas gave a little, quirk of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

They pulled on their boxers, and Cas went to dig the stars out of the closet. Then they spent the next hour sticking a starfield up over the bed. Even if they’d wanted to, they didn’t have enough stars to do the whole apartment, but over the bed was enough. When they were done, the remaining stars were tucked back away and they turned off all the lights, returning to bed to look up at their work.

“You’re right, I should have done that a long time ago.” Cas admitted finally.

“I’m usually right, you should know that by now.” Dean replied cheekily.

Cas smacked at him, just a playful swat. He was quiet for a couple of minutes, then, just enjoying the moment and being close to Dean again before his curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked, “so… what kind of a job are you in Tallahassee for, anyway?”

Dean sighed softly. One of his hands rubbed up and down Cas’s arm. “Wraith.”

“Wraith?”

“Yeah, they, ah…” Dean trailed off for a moment, thinking, before continuing with, “they can look human, but their reflections always show what they actually are. They kill people and eat, like… their brain juices? Through this spike in their arms.”

“How do you kill them?”

“Silver. When in doubt, go with silver.”

“Hm.” Cas hummed, just a soft sound in his throat. “You can Hunt one on your own?” He was worried about Dean going solo on this one, after so long. Not that Dean wasn’t a competent Hunter, just… well. Cas would always worry over him, he thought.

“One wraith? Sure. I’ve just gotta track it down, first.” Dean’s hand paused on Cas’s arm, and he glanced at the other man, “speaking of which, you mind if I take over one of your walls? It’s kind of a thing Dad taught me to do, make a sort of… I dunno, vision board with all the stuff about the Hunt I’m working on. Helps me organize my thoughts, you know?”

“Mm-mm.” Cas made a quiet negative noise. “I don’t mind. My walls are all empty anyway.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You need some artwork or something.”

Cas just shrugged. It wasn’t high on his to-do list, obviously, or he would have gotten to it by now. “I have tape.” He offered.

Dean grinned and ducked in for a kiss. “You’re the absolute best.”

-- --

The next morning, Cas woke up to the sun streaming through the windows and a completely empty bed. Or, well, Marshmallow was sleeping on the pillow next to him, but Dean wasn’t there and that was unacceptable. It wasn’t hard to find his boyfriend, in such a small apartment, he just had to sit up, lean over and look to the left and—yep. There he was, standing around in only his boxers, taping pieces of paper to the wall.

Cas stifled a yawn and climbed out of bed to wander over, stopping to stand next to Dean and look at the little collage he was creating. “You got up early.”

“I have a job to do.” Dean reminded him seriously—but then leaned over to drop a kiss by Cas’s jaw with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Cas echoed, still looking over the pieces of paper that were taped up to the wall. “It’s very organized.” He observed.

“I’ve done a few of these in my time,” Dean chuckled, “I call it the Wall Of Weird.”

“Wall Of Weird, huh…”

“You’re real relaxed for a guy who’s in the victim pool.” Dean frowned sideways at Cas, who was still inspecting the Wall Of Weird curiously. When Cas blinked and looked at him, he continued, “all the vics so far are college kids, all straight-A students, top of their class? Sound like anyone you know?”

Cas balked. He hadn’t known that. “Well… sure, but…”

“No ‘buts’, Cas. You need to watch your back. If anything happens to you…”

Cas’s expression flitted to something almost sad, and he reached over to catch one of Dean’s hands in his own. “I’ll be careful, Dean, I promise. But I’m not even in class this week, so that should help keep me safe, right?”

“Maybe, if this thing is stalking the Florida State campus. Better safe than sorry, though.” Dean squeezed Cas’s hand back, then let go and crossed the apartment to dig through his duffle bag, “look, I have something I want to give you.” Finally, he pulled a letter opener out of his bag and headed back over to hand it to Cas; “it’s silver. Just… carry it with you, okay? For me.”

Cas gave him a little, reassuring smile. “I promise.” He repeated softly. “Now if you’re done defacing my walls for now, why don’t you come back to bed?”

Dean chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. “Forever trying to get me in bed with you.”

Cas ducked the kiss with a smile, set the letter opener next to his laptop on his desk and reached to take hold of Dean’s hands, beginning to back toward the bed and pulling Dean along with him. He smiled, amused. “As if you’re any better, when we meet up. Constantly dragging me into bed… or the shower… or onto the couch… or the kitchen table…”

“Hey, the kitchen table is hot sometimes.” Dean defended with a grin.

“Depends on the table.” Cas allowed, pausing when his knees bumped into the mattress and pulling Dean closer against himself, wrapping his arms around him. When Dean angled for a kiss, this time Cas met it, kissing back warmly even as he turned them around—and then gave Dean a shove, pushing him back onto the bed. Dean went down with a squawk and landed with an ‘oof’ but grinned up at him the entire time. Cas let him shimmy his way up the bed a little before joining him, climbing onto the bed himself and over to throw a leg across Dean’s hips, settling straddling the other man. “That one table half collapsed on us, remember?”

“That was one time,” Dean protested, even as Cas leaned down to kiss along his shoulder, inward to the crook of his neck before lifting up and smiling down at him, angling his head for a proper kiss. Dean returned it enthusiastically, hands sliding up Cas’s sides under the t-shirt he’d slept in the night before. Cas broke off and sat back to strip out of it a moment later, tossing it to the ground carelessly. Dean’s hands wandered farther up, around to grope at Cas’s chest, then easing down to his abdomen. “You’re freaking gorgeous.”

“So you keep saying.” Even if he didn’t necessarily agree with Dean’s assessment, Cas respected his opinion at the very least. He didn’t argue so much, anymore, when Dean complimented him, called him things like gorgeous or amazing.

“It’s true.” Dean pulled him back down for another kiss, one hand sliding around to hold at Cas’s back and the other reaching to grab the lube from the nightstand where it had been discarded the night before. “Take your shorts off.”

“Only if you take yours off, too.” Cas laughed, but he was already lifting up and off to the side to strip out of his boxers. By the time he was done Dean was naked again as well and he settled next to the older man, licking his lips and looking at him heatedly. “You’re up.”

Dean chuckled. “You bet I am.” Because dick jokes were kind of his thing sometimes. He quickly uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers, then settled himself half-over Cas and reached to start stretching him out, fingers working deftly, obviously practiced as he worked the other man over, purposefully rubbing against his prostate as much as possible the entire time.

Cas just submitted himself to Dean’s touch, arching and moaning, one arm up and flung over his eyes, chest heaving as he gasped out little, stilted cries, his entire body trembling—and then it was over. Dean was pulling his hand away, leaving Cas to pant breathlessly for a moment because Goddamn Dean was good at that.

When Dean made to settle over him, though, Cas muttered a quiet negative noise and pushed him down onto his back instead, then climbed on top of him again, reaching with one hand to hold Dean’s straining dick steady while he lifted up on his knees—and sank down over him, taking the older man’s cock deep into his own body with a long, low moan. “Oh, God, Dean… yes…!”

Dean’s hands grabbed at his thighs, fingers digging in slightly, and he tossed his head back against the pillows, giving a low moan of his own.

This was one of their favorite ways to have sex, and for very similar reasons: in this position Dean could watch every second of Cas coming undone on top of him, and Cas could see every single micro-expression on Dean’s face as he got deeply, thoroughly fucked. Or… technically, he supposed, Dean was still doing the fucking, even though Cas was on top.

“Damnit, Cas… move.”

Cas just nodded mutely, braced his hands against Dean’s abdomen, and started rocking his hips, just little, easy movements at first, but very quickly working up to riding Dean hard, rolling his hips and dropping down on his boyfriend’s cock firmly while Dean thrusted up into him at the same time—slamming them together each and every time.

Soon they were both panting breathlessly, Dean’s nails digging into Cas’s thighs and Cas’s hands gripping tight against Dean’s abdomen while they moved together, the bed rocking under them while Cas fucked himself hard on Dean’s cock, shoulders hunched and head falling forward, little whines and curses from his mouth with every movement. “God… yes… fuck, Dean… ah, harder…!”

Dean grunted an affirmative and redoubled his efforts. They fucked hard and rough, bordering on painful at times and all the better because of it. Like they hadn’t had sex in years when they had, in fact, just done so the night before. But neither of them could ever get enough of the other, always craving more.

This time it was Dean who came first and with an almost startled shout, bucking his hips up into Cas’s harshly a couple of times before collapsing back—but Cas wasn’t quite there yet. He whined and paused, panting for air as he rolled off Dean and landed on his back beside him. “Dean.” He protested breathlessly. “Unfair.”

“I know.” Dean agreed, “I’m on it.” Still breathing hard himself, he shuffled around and ducked down to suck Cas’s throbbing erection into his mouth, diving deep and sucking heatedly, enthusiastically, at the same time shoving two fingers into the other man and pushing them deeply, right up against Cas’s prostate, rubbing firmly.

Cas wailed breathlessly, and it only took a moment of Dean’s onslaught before he was coming as well, hard, back arching and hips jerking against Dean’s mouth. When he slumped back, Dean pulled off him with a slurp, swallowing down the slippery feeling of come even as he pressed his fingers against Cas’s prostate once more, curiously.

Cas was so overstimulated it practically hurt, and he whined, reaching one hand down to shove at Dean weakly. “I’m done…”

That made Dean smile, and he pulled his hand away before climbing up to collapse next to Cas, one arm slung over the younger man’s chest while they both continued panting for air.

“You’re amazing,” Dean managed after a moment, sounding sleepy.

Cas was already falling asleep as well. “Mm,” He agreed, “ditto.”

-- --

Some time later, after they’d had an impromptu nap, Cas was laying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his chin. Dean was next to him, on his back with one arm tucked behind his head. Once things had settled down, Marshmallow had hopped up to sit at the foot of the bed, staring in the unsettling, incessantly grumpy way that Cas was more than used to by now, but Dean still found uncomfortable.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas shifted, rolling over and easing up against Dean’s side, allowing the older man to wrap his arm around him. They both settled comfortably, and Cas was quiet for a long while before he spoke again, hesitantly; “don’t… freak out.” He said finally, “but I’ve been thinking and… maybe we could get married. Or something. Don’t you think?”

It was something that had been weighing on him for some time, now, the thought of marrying Dean, but having the older man actually there, in his apartment, it seemed to be driving the idea home.

“Cas—” Dean began, already sounding exasperated just with that one word.

“No, hear me out!” Cas hurried to explain, looking up at Dean and digging his fingers into Dean’s chest lightly, almost for emphasis. “Nothing would have to change, you could still travel and Hunt, you’d just… come back here in-between. We could have an apartment and a home together, we could have… domesticity. You know? But mostly…” Trailing off slightly, he swallowed and finished, “mostly we’d be married. And that’s something…” He trailed off. Dean was frowning. That wasn’t a good sign. Cas leaned his head back down on Dean’s shoulder and smoothed his hand against his chest with a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s a stupid idea. Just forget it.”

There was a long, long silence between them, then, and Cas finally made to pull away, afraid he had really screwed up this time—but Dean held him close, tightening his arm around him, not allowing him to simply flee. “Cas, I…” Dean swallowed audibly and then cleared his throat before; “being… tied to me like that. It would make you a target, and I can’t do that to you. I can’t.”

“I’m already tied to you like that,” Cas replied softly, “I have been for years. If something really wants at me, I’m not going to be hard to find. And it wouldn’t be your fault. You can’t put that on yourself. My safety.”

“I can and I absolutely will.” Dean told him firmly. One hand rubbed up and down Cas’s arm, the touch almost restless in nature. Anxious. “Cas, if I could, don’t you think…” His hand paused and he squeezed Cas’s arm. “I never thought I was the marrying type, but I would marry you in a second if I thought it was safe for you.”

“What if I asked?” Cas pushed up a little to look at Dean properly again, expression serious and sincere, “what if I asked you to marry me? I—would that make a difference? You once said you’d quit Hunting for me if I asked you to and I refused to do that, but… do this. For me. Because it’s important to me.” His brows drew together, and he continued, “we can ward this place against everything, plant hex bags in the walls… make it as safe as it can possibly be. And I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay, and we’ll be married.”

“Cas…” Dean looked up at him quietly for a moment, and Cas could feel the possibly misplaced determination beginning to fade in him—when the other man finally reached with his free hand and tugged Cas down for a kiss, then murmured against his lips, “yeah okay. Okay, Cas. Let’s… let’s do it.” Pulling him even closer, Dean pressed their foreheads together and added, “but don’t you ever die on me, Cas. Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little flash of a smile and Cas came back with, “I could say the same thing to you, you know.”

Dean actually chuckled at that. “Good point.” He tilted his head to kiss Cas again, slow and deep, before murmuring, “if I tell Dad I’m engaged he’ll never let me live it down, you know. He’ll freak out. He’ll scream and yell. Lecture me for hours.” He grinned, “the things I go through for you.”

A sudden, inexplicable rush of relief—followed by another flood of absolute joy. Cas returned Dean’s grin with one of his own and ducked in to kiss him once more, unable to help smiling against his lips. “I love you so much, Dean. And trust me, I appreciate every single thing you go through for me. But this especially, this is…”

“I know. I love you, too.” Came Dean’s reply. Despite his initial reluctance—which he still felt, if he was honest with himself—this really felt important to him, too. “But we really need to lock this place down. I don’t want anything to happen to you, if we do this.”

“We will,” Cas agreed, but he was already climbing up, slinging one leg over Dean to straddle him and leaning down for another kiss, “just not right this second, okay?”

As if sensing what was to come, Marshmallow vacated the bed, tottering off to hop up on the couch in the living area and curl up there. Cas was privately glad his cat had so much common sense—probably more than even he had at times. Especially right now, because…

As much as he tried to reassure Dean that he would be fine, he would be safe, Cas knew that if they went through with this it would be like painting a target on his back. As soon as Dean was wearing a ring—which, admittedly, he might refuse to wear, and with good reason—every evil thing out there would know he had someone to come home to after a Hunt. Somewhere to come home to—an actual base of operations that could be tracked down and plundered. And Cas just happened to be there. He would be even more of a liability than he already was.

It really was a stupid idea, all things considered…

And Cas still wanted to do it more than anything he had wanted to do in his entire life, except maybe in those first few days when he and Dean were still only friends, but he had just wanted to kiss the other man within an inch of his life.

“You know we just had sex like an hour ago, right?” Dean sounded amused.

Cas just leaned down for another kiss. “I don’t care. Make love to me.”

Dean smiled into the kiss. “Yeah, I can do that.”

-- --

They spent all of that day completely wrapped up in each other, barely ever even leaving the bed, cuddled up together and talking in-between bouts of rather vigorous lovemaking. Marshmallow avoided the area completely for most of that time. Every time he ventured over, they ended up falling back into having sex and scaring him away again. Neither of them felt guilty about that in the least.

The next morning, Dean was up early and off to hunt down the wraith in town, and Cas had a bowl of cereal for breakfast while he apologized to his cat for the day before. There may have been bribery treats involved.

Then, around lunch time, he decided to give Charlie a call.

Charlie had done her travel year after high school, keeping in touch with everyone via social media and texting, sending the occasional postcard (Cas still had all the ones she had sent to him tucked away in one of his desk drawers) and then come back ready to buckle down. Now she was in her final year at MIT and going strong. Since she’d come back, she and Cas had started video chatting on a regular basis, and it was… nice. To have someone to really talk to again.

Not that Cas couldn’t (and didn’t) talk to Dean, but there were some things he didn’t feel comfortable discussing with the older man—usually things about Dean himself that Cas had to get off his chest—and Charlie was still his best friend. They could talk about anything, any time.

Now he clicked on her name in his contacts and waited for her to pick up, idly picking at the edge of the sofa cushion, anticipation making him restless. After a couple of rings Charlie’s face popped up on the screen of his computer and he smiled widely—so widely that she balked immediately and gave him an odd look.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well… stop it, you’re freaking me out.”

Cas tried to get a hold of his grin and failed spectacularly. “Dean is spending the week here with me.” He told her finally.

“Oooooh.” Charlie made an understanding noise, “I get it now. But like… still. Stop. That’s way too big of a smile for you, Cas.”

“I can’t help it.” Cas protested, then; “he’s in town for a job. It’s the first time he’s ever been here, and I mean, he’s working, too, but I still get him when he’s on down-time. I didn’t even have to spend two days on the bus this time, it’s… fantastic, Charlie.”

“What kind of a job is he working?” Charlie asked curiously—

And Cas just responded simply, “wraith Hunt.”

He had yet to tell Dean, but about two years ago he had broken down and told Charlie everything—the truth about Dean and his family, what they did and what they stood for, about Hunters and what was actually out in the world. About what had happened at Caspar High their senior year. At the time he had just needed someone to talk to about everything, and he trusted Charlie not to tell anyone else. He didn’t regret the choice to tell her, either. She had taken it rather well and it was nice to have someone to confide in, when Dean was on dangerous Hunts and he was worried sick.

“Wraith?” Charlie tilted her head to the side curiously.

“They, ah… they use these spikes to suck the neural fluids out of people.” Cas told her, just the bare-bones basic version of what they actually did. “I guess different wraiths seek out different types of victims, depending on their tastes in… brains. This one is going after straight-A college kids. Really intelligent people.” A pause, then, and he added, “Dean says I have to be careful because I’m in the potential victim pool.”

She nodded along, then reached to the side, coming up with a can of Redbull and taking a sip, “sounds like. But with Dean around… I mean, he’ll make sure you’re safe, right? He’d never let anything happen to you.”

Cas smiled again, this time soft and fond. “No, he wouldn’t.” Then he hesitated before clearing his throat and offering, “but that’s not what I called you for, Charlie. I wanted to tell you… I mean. It’s no big deal, it’s not going to be a big deal, we’re specifically not making it a big deal, but—”

Charlie grinned slightly. “Just spit it out already, Cas.”

“We’re…” Cas trailed off before licking his lips and trying again; “we’re getting married. Dean and I.” And when he saw the light flare in her eyes, he waved one hand to cut her off before she could even start, “we’re just going to go to the courthouse, that’s all! No—no wedding or anything, just the two of us and the judge. But, ah… we need a witness. And I wanted to ask… if you thought you could get here…?”

“No way, I totally get to be your best man!” Charlie’s voice rose a pitch in excitement, and she leaned closer to the camera, “I will run there if I have to. Tell me what day and I’m there.” Then a little, borderline-squeal and she added, “I am so happy for you, Cas!”

Another little, soft smile, and Cas nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“But how will it work with the…” Trailing off, Charlie waved one hand in a generally encompassing manner, “Hunting. And everything.” She paused then, her smile fading into a frown, and asked, “won’t it be dangerous for you?”

“That’s what Dean said,” Cas sighed, glancing to the side when Marshmallow hopped up beside him and reaching to pet the cat almost automatically, “he’ll still Hunt. He’ll just… come back here, in-between, instead of us meeting up in random motels all over the country. And we can lock this place down, protection wards and sigils and hex bags and everything…”

Charlie was quiet for a moment, obviously mulling everything over, but then she smiled again. “I’ll take your word for it.” Her tone was genuine and sincere when she spoke again, repeating firmly, “I’m happy for you, Cas, really.”

And that was somehow… relieving. Charlie’s opinion mattered to him a lot, and if she had been against this whole thing Cas wasn’t sure how he would have taken it. Now he just smiled back at her. “Thanks, Charlie.”

A long, drawn-out sigh and she propped her chin in her hand before saying, “I can’t believe Dean Winchester is actually getting married. He had Eternal Bachelor written all over him right from day one, and you snagged him anyway. It’s crazy. Do you think he’ll actually wear the ring?”

Cas laughed at that. “Probably not. It’s safer if he doesn’t. But that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Is he still wearing the cuff you had me make for him?”

“Yes. It’s getting worn, though. Not sure how much longer it’ll last.”

“I’m surprised it’s lasted this long, given his job and everything.”

“You have a point.” Cas chuckled. When Marshmallow climbed into his lap and flapped his tail in Cas’s face, he gently pushed the cat away, “Marshmallow, you know better. I’m trying to talk to Charlie.”

“Hi, Marshmallow~” Charlie sounded amused. She sipped at her drink again before asking, “are you happy, Cas? You seem happy.”

“Everything will be complicated, but it already is. And this way he’ll have a home to come back to, after everything he sees on his Hunts. I can give him that. And to know that he’ll be mine, really, officially mine…” Cas glanced down, then back up with a little smile, “I am happy, Charlie. I really am.”

Charlie returned his smile with one of her own. “So, all you’ve got to do is tell me when I have to be in Tallahassee for your freaking wedding, then.”

-- --

When Dean walked in at eleven thirty that night he was covered in slime and gore and general grossness and carrying a foot-long spike in one hand, his duffle bag in the other. He dropped his duffle by the door, kicked it closed behind him and announced with a grin, “honey, I’m home!”

Cas had been sitting in the living room, elbow deep in one of his Theology textbooks, and some of the homework he had collected to make up for not being in class for an entire week and looked up long enough to roll his eyes. “Are you just going to be like this from now on, forever?”

Dean just continued to grin. He was enjoying this whole marriage idea even more than Cas was, Cas thought. The older man locked the door securely behind himself and wandered farther into the apartment, setting the spike on the kitchen counter to begin stripping out of his frankly disgusting clothes. “Just let me have this for a while, Cas, it’s still new and shiny.”

“We aren’t even married yet.” Cas pointed out, setting his books aside and pointing toward the laundry basket. “In there, please, I don’t want to have to wash monster gunk off the floors. I’ll do laundry tomorrow.”

Dean hummed an agreeing noise and continued stripping down, dumping all his filthy clothes in the laundry hamper as told. Then he headed over to lean down and drop a kiss against Cas’s lips. “I’m having a shower. Wanna join me?”

“I would but I still have two chapters to get through tonight.” As if Dean wouldn’t distract the hell out of him the entire time. Cas had no illusions about that. He would be lucky to get even another chapter finished, never mind two. When Dean pouted at him, Cas pushed at his chest lightly. “No shower sex this time.”

“Boo.” Dean protested with a little disappointed noise, as if they hadn’t already fucked twice earlier in the day and absolutely would again before going to bed that night. Cas tried and failed to keep the little amused smile off his face as the older man made his way through to the bathroom, calling back to him, “it still counts if I jerk off and think about you!”

“Whatever you say, Dean!”

While Dean was in the shower, simultaneously getting clean and dirty, Cas took the opportunity to make a call and order pizza—because as much as he was joking about sex, Cas knew that Dean was probably starving. It would likely arrive shortly after the other man got out of the bathroom, which meant that as much as he wasn’t done studying… Cas was done studying. They needed the coffee table for dinner.

That decided, he quickly packed up his books and papers and returned them to his desk, then fed Marshmallow some treats when the cat started fussing at him, and returned to his seat on the couch, this time with a book to read until Dean rejoined him.

It took a while. Dean probably did jerk off in the shower. Cas tried very hard not to be too amused by that thought. Even at twenty-three years old, now, they both still had the libidos of teenagers… but then again, they were apart a lot of the time, too. If they were living together full-time it might be a little better. Less of a novelty. Not that Cas was complaining.

When Dean finally did emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, he was looking clean and refreshed and pleased with himself. He headed over to his bag and started digging out a fresh set of clothing, pulling on a pair of boxers and a clean pair of jeans before crossing the room to sit down next to Cas—at which point he leaned in and nuzzled at the younger man’s jaw affectionately. “You missed out.”

Cas chuckled softly, turning his attention from his book and tipping his head to give Dean a kiss. “I’m sure we’ll make up for it later.” Closing his book, he set it on the coffee table, then turned to face Dean properly. “I ordered pizza. I figured you’d be hungry.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“It’ll be here soon. How did your Hunt go?”

“Well, you know, the good guys won, so… go team!” Then a pause before Dean added, “and by team I mean me. I’m the team.”

“Yes, I gathered that.” Cas laughed and leaned into his side a little, smiling to himself. “It’s nice that your Dad lets you do solo Hunts again, finally.”

“After he yanked my privileges after the first one?” Dean asked, tone fond. “Worth it, though.”

“I do worry about you Hunting alone, at least with your Dad you had backup.” The younger man admitted, glancing up at Dean again, “if something happens, if you get trapped or hurt or—or something worse… then what?”

Dean sighed softly and wrapped an arm around Cas, giving him a gentle squeeze. He tipped his head to drop a kiss against his forehead. “We’ve had this conversation before, Cas, and no matter what I say the job won’t get any less dangerous. It’ll always be risky, but you have to accept that it’s worth the risk to Hunt, to save people, to make the world a safer place for everyone.” Frowning slightly, he bumped his forehead by Cas’s temple and asked quietly, “are you absolutely sure you want to marry into this insanity?”

It was a fair question, Cas supposed, coming from Dean’s point of view. Cas just leaned into him a bit more and answered simply, chidingly, “Dean.”

“What? I have to ask. It’s not too late to back out yet.”

“But I don’t want to back out. I’ve never wanted to be in something so much in my entire life.”

“I…” Dean hesitated, as if he wanted to argue some more, but then changed his mind and wrapped his other arm around Cas, too, pulling him into a hug. Cas went willingly, bringing his own arms up around Dean as well. “Yeah. I feel the same way. I’m just… worried. For you. That’s all.”

“I know.” Cas nuzzled into the crook of Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss there warmly, “but I really will be alright. You know how to ward this place, all the symbols and sigils and stuff. And you can get the hex bags, right? I can even carry one around with me, if you want. It’ll be like I’m invisible. I’ll keep going to school and working at the Gas-n-Sip and you’ll keep Hunting and… come home. To me. In between.” Then a smile against Dean’s skin and he added, “Charlie was very enthused to be my best man, by the way. Her words, not mine.”

That made Dean laugh. He leaned back into the couch and pulled Cas along with him, ending up with the other man tucked into his side comfortably. “Dad and Sammy really should be there…” He sighed and shook his head, “but Dad wouldn’t come even if I asked him to, he’d boycott it on principle alone. And Sam’s just gone off to Stanford, I can’t exactly pull him away all across the country. He’d hate me.” A pause, then, and he muttered, “if he doesn’t already.”

His relationship with Sam had been sliding in the last couple of years, and Dean was more than aware of that fact. The fiasco between Sam and their dad over Sam leaving for Stanford was just the latest in a great long line of crap that had been going on in his family. It wasn’t a stretch to think that Sam wasn’t his biggest fan at the moment, for more than one reason.

“I think you’re underestimating your Dad and Sam… especially Sam. I think you’d be surprised, if you just talked to him.” Cas advised softly. “You should call them. You have to call your Dad to report in about the wraith thing anyway, right?”

Dean let his head fall back and heaved a sigh. “Cas, I really don’t feel like being yelled at for three hours straight tonight…”

Cas lifted his head to offer Dean a gentle smile. “Call tomorrow, then. After we’ve had a good night’s sleep. I can go to the library to study, and you can have the place to yourself to make your calls.” Leaning up, he pressed a kiss by Dean’s jaw. “I don’t know about your Dad, but Sam will be happy for you. You’ll see.”

“If you say so…” Dean didn’t sound sure, himself, but before he could make any more arguments there was a knock on the door.

Cas pushed away from his boyfriend and sat up straight, glancing over. “Pizza’s here. Put a shirt on we don’t want to give the pizza guy a free show.”

“You don’t really want me to put a shirt on.” Dean accused with a grin.

A little chuckle and Cas stood, fishing out his wallet and heading for the door. “Shirt, Dean.”

“Aw.”

Dean did, indeed, pull on a t-shirt after that, while Cas paid for the pizza and brought it inside, closing the locking the door behind himself and then taking it over to the coffee table, setting it down there. Then he went to the kitchen and reached into the fridge, pulling out a beer for Dean before heading back to take a seat on the couch again.

When Dean joined him a moment later, Cas handed him the beer with a smile and reached to open the pizza box.

“You really didn’t have to do this for me,” Dean commented, indicating the beer. “I know you don’t exactly keep it in the house.”

“But I’m old enough to buy it.” Cas shrugged as he helped himself to a slice of pizza. “The store I work at sells it, and I know you like it, so…” He shrugged, taking a bite of pizza and watching Dean open his beer. “I guess I figured you could probably use a beer after a Hunt, right? That’s an alcohol kind of occasion?”

“After a good Hunt, after a bad Hunt, after any Hunt, basically.” The older man agreed with a chuckle and downed a gulp from the bottle in his hand, giving a contented sigh afterward. “Not my usual brand of Cheapest On The Shelf. It’s good.” A grin. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Cas mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.

He watched intently as Dean took another drink and then set the beer down to pick up a slice of pizza. He took an initial normal-sized bite—but then began eating like he was starving, wolfing down the rest of the slice in record speed before quickly taking a second, as if suddenly realizing how hungry he actually was.

Cas had kind of expected this. Granted, he had only ever been around Dean post-Hunt once before, and he had been rather unconscious at the time, but it made sense. The expenditure of physical and mental energy and all that. But also—

“Why didn’t you eat breakfast before you left today?” He asked Dean, tipping his head curiously.

Dean was reaching for his third slice of pizza. “I was… nervous, I guess. About the Hunt. My first solo in five years. Had my stomach all twisted up.” Another huge bite of pizza and he added around it, “don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

“You’re supposed to be the big tough Hunter.” Cas gave a quirk of a smile, going for a second slice of pizza, himself. He laughed softly when Dean gave him a look. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”

They finished the rest of their dinner in relative silence, just a few words exchanged here-and-there while they ate. Cas gave a little piece of bacon to Marshmallow when he wandered over—and when Dean started sneezing, Cas hurried to grab the antihistamines.

Dean took a couple of them with a swallow of beer, then muttered about cats around his pizza for the next few minutes until the pills kicked in. Cas found it amusing and adorable at the same time, especially when Marshmallow meandered across to rub on Dean’s legs—and Dean actually dropped a hand to scratch his head.

When Dean caught him looking, he demanded, “what?”

To which Cas replied, “you like my cat.”

“I do not.” Dean grumped, picking up his beer to take another drink. When that finished off the bottle, he set it down again. Then he leaned back into the couch once more, lifting his arm for Cas when the younger man shuffled over to lean into his side. “Thanks for the food, Cas. And the beer. I really needed that.”

Cas made a pleased noise and turned his head to nose against Dean’s jaw. “You’re welcome.”

Dean hummed and shifted, slowly maneuvering Cas around, pulling him up into his lap—and he leaned in for a kiss. “You know what else I really need?” He asked against Cas’s lips.

A laugh from Cas as he settled on Dean’s lap and tilted his head to return the kiss; “I can probably take a guess.”

“You get three, but you’ll only need one.” Dean’s hands were rubbing down Cas’s thighs, then back up again.

Cas shifted. “We need to get some sleep tonight, you know.”

“Mmhm,” Dean angled his head to kiss him again; “less talking, more kissing.”

Cas’s response was a very articulate “mmh.”

-- --

The next day, the Hunt finished, Cas and Dean let themselves sleep in until almost noon. When they did climb out of bed, it was after a long while of cuddling and making out, morning breath be damned, just enjoying each other—being close to each other. After that they had cold pizza for breakfast before climbing in the shower together—where they, perhaps miraculously, didn’t even have sex. Then Cas packed up his books to go to the library while Dean began to take apart the Wall Of Weird, already anxious over his impending phone calls.

Dean said a long, drawn-out goodbye at the door, just hedging for time and Cas knew it. So eventually he put a stop to it with a little, affectionate kiss and a pat against Dean’s chest. “It’ll be okay, Dean. You’ll do fine. Call me when you’re done, and I can come home.” He turned to leave—then paused and added, “tell Sam I said hi!” before scooting out the door.

It took another good forty-five minutes and more picking at the Wall Of Weird before Dean finally got up the nerve to call his dad, and it did not go well. To no one’s surprise, John Winchester reacted… badly. To his eldest son’s news. He shouted at the top of his lungs for nearly an hour and a half while Dean ripped at the Wall Of Weird the entire time out of frustration before finally just flat-out hanging up on Dean. Dean stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment before dropping it on the couch and bringing his hands up to rub the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He still had to call Sam.

More procrastination. He finished taking down the Wall Of Weird and tossed everything into the trash, vowing to buy Cas at least one poster for his walls in the near future. Finally, he decided to bite the bullet and dug his laptop out of his duffle bag. It was old and somewhat creaky, but it still worked and that was the important thing.

When he clicked on Sam for video chat, he honestly didn’t think his brother would even answer but after several excruciatingly long rings, the window opened up and Sam’s face appeared on the screen in front of him.

For just a moment, Dean blinked blankly at Sam.

“Dude, what do you want?” Sam demanded.

“I—” Dean hesitated before muttering, “first of all? Rude. And I’m only calling because it’s important, Sammy.”

Sam sighed deeply, obviously annoyed. “Something happen to Dad?”

“What? No. No, no. Dad’s fine, just a dick like usual.” Dean waved a hand dismissively, “it’s about me, I… ah.” Pausing, he glanced down, green eyes flitting back and forth. Considering how this had gone with their dad, he really wasn’t looking forward to actually telling Sam his news. He was just going to get yelled at again, right? “I don’t know how to say this…”

On the other end of the call, Sam rolled his eyes, “come on, Dean.”

Dean made a frustrated noise and glared at his brother, then palmed over his face before blurting; “okay, look, I’m getting married, alright!”

There was a long, long silence on the other end of the line and Dean glanced to the side. After a while Sam asked almost dumbly, “come again?”

Another frustrated sound in the back of his throat and Dean chanced a glance toward the screen again. Sam didn’t look angry, just… surprised. Dean swallowed and forced himself to continue; “Cas and I. We’re. I mean. I’m in Tallahassee right now and we got to talking and just… we decided we’re going to do it.” Then a short pause before he added, awkwardly, “it’s… no big deal. We’re not having a freaking wedding or anything, we’re just going to go to the courthouse, but… yeah.”

When he stopped talking and looked away again there was another long silence before, finally, “…shit, man. It’s about time. Congratulations.”

Dean stopped. Looked back at the computer, at Sam, who was—smiling? He was smiling. Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding and offered a tentative smile in return. “Heh. Thanks. Thanks, Sammy.”

“You called just to tell me that?”

“Well yeah, but... also. We haven’t got a date yet, but Cas has Charlie signed up to be his best man and I—shit, this is so hard. Why is this so hard? What is wrong with our freaking family, man? I—”

“Hey, you’re spinning out again. Say what you’re trying to say.”

“I just… I want you there. If you can make it. I know you’re all the way in California, but it’s—it’s important to me. That you be there. As my best man. So. Do you think?”

“Dean, you’re my brother, you’re getting married to the love of your life and you want me to be there as your best man—of course I can make it. For you and for Cas.” Sam had an amused smile on his face now, though it faded a moment later when he asked, “I take it Dad didn’t take the news so well?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think he’s talking to me anymore. He completely blew a fuse. Yelled at me for an hour and a half and then hung up on me.”

“Not a surprise. I’m sorry, though.”

“Only in our family, right? Cas called this one, though.”

“How do you mean?”

“I was sure you wouldn’t even pick up when I called. He said to try anyway, that you would surprise me. He says hi, by the way.”

“Cas has always had good instincts for things like that.” And then; “hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Dad may not be on board, but I think Mom would have been happy for you. I think she would’ve really liked Cas.”

“…yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right, Sam. Thanks.”

They actually ended up talking for nearly an hour, about all kinds of things. Dean getting married, of course—Sam had laughed when he found out that it was Cas who actually did the asking—but also just life stuff. How Sam was doing in California, how he was settling in, was he excited for his first year at Stanford in the fall? Had he made any friends? They avoided Hunting talk because Sam wouldn’t want to go there, but Dean described Cas’s—soon to be his—little apartment and what he’d seen of Tallahassee so far. It was actually nice, to just talk like brothers—like friends—again.

Eventually Sam did have to go, though, and they left things on good terms, with Dean promising to text him the details for the date and time he needed to be at the courthouse in Tallahassee as soon as he knew them. Sam congratulated him again before they hung up, and once he had shut the computer Dean leaned back into the couch with a sigh, a little, pleased smile on his face. Cas had been right.

After a couple of minutes to process everything, Dean retrieved his cell phone from where he had dropped it after the disastrous call with his dad and called Cas to let him know it was safe to come home from the library. Cas could hear him smiling over the phone and immediately knew at least something had gone well. He promised to pack up and be home as soon as possible.

Forty-five minutes later, when Cas walked in the door, it was to have Dean immediately grab his backpack and drop it out of the way, then wrap his arms around him and heft him completely off his feet in a tight hug. Cas laughed and allowed it, bringing his arms up around Dean’s neck as he was set back down and pulled in close. “I take it things went alright?”

“With my Dad? Hell no, he was pissed. He may never talk to me again. But with Sammy… yeah.” Dean smiled and angled for a kiss, which Cas happily gave him, “you were right,” He murmured against Cas’s lips, “I was underestimating him. Sam was happy for me. Actually happy for me.”

“I told you.” Cas sighed, tilting his head for another kiss, one hand sliding up to thread into Dean’s hair gently, “Sam’s still a good kid. He loves you.”

“Mmhm,” Came Dean’s muffled reply, and he began backing them toward the bed. Marshmallow was sleeping in the middle of it and vacated quickly when he saw them incoming. Cas barely even noticed, too wrapped up in kissing his boyfriend to care.

When Dean’s knees hit the bed he tumbled backward onto the mattress, dragging Cas with him. Cas went down with a laugh, landing on top of him and pulling a little ‘oof’ from Dean before they were kissing again—warm and gentle and loving—and there was no question how this was going to go, this time, at least in Cas’s mind.

After a few long minutes of just making out, Dean gave Cas a gentle shove and Cas climbed off him with a laugh, standing to let him work his way up onto the bed properly. He also took the time to take his jeans off, which Dean watched with sharp eyes before following suit, shimmying out of his own without getting off the bed. Cas grabbed them and dumped them on the floor, then climbed onto the bed again, over to lean over Dean with a smile.

“You still amaze me.” Dean reached up to cup his jaw, then slid his hand back to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair and tugged him down into another kiss; “I think you always will.”

Cas settled over him, kissing back easily, but murmured back, “you know I feel the same way about you, right?”

Dean would never cease to be absolutely incredible to him: strong and brave and fierce and loyal and loving all wrapped up in one big ball. Not to mention sexy. Dean was the most attractive person Cas had ever met—always had been, and he doubted that would change any time soon. But Dean felt exactly the same way about him, maybe with different adjectives, but it was all the same in the end. Dean thought he was nothing short of amazing, and for Cas, who had always seen himself as ordinary, that was an astonishing thing.

So, he did his best to live up to Dean’s hype, to be there for him when the older man needed him, to be the best boyfriend—and lover—that he could possibly be. Which was pretty much why he broke off the kissing to tug at Dean’s t-shirt, pushing at it pointedly even as he sat back to strip out of his own. Dean followed suit, and then Cas was kissing along his chest, nipping gently at one nipple to make him hum lowly—he smiled a little to himself at the sound.

Right above said nipple, though, were the two short scars that had been left by the jorogumo so long ago, now smooth and faded but still obvious—at least to Cas—and Cas paused then, leaning his forehead down against them for just a couple of breaths.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked curiously.

“Praying.” At only twenty-three, Dean’s entire body was already littered with scars, a roadmap of pain, and sometimes it struck Cas just how dangerous his job really was. “Praying that you’re safe on your next job. Praying for no more scars.”

“Cas…” Dean tugged at him, drawing him up and into another warm kiss, “I’m okay. You know I’m okay.”

“I know,” Cas agreed against his lips, “but let me pray anyway.”

Dean just smiled gently and kissed him again, hands sliding down his sides—until Cas broke off to begin trailing kisses downward again, along is chest to his ribs, down to his abdomen where he nipped lightly just by Dean’s navel and hummed out a pleased noise when his boyfriend twitched. That was followed up by reaching to tug his boxers down and out of the way—and then ducking his head to lick over the tip of Dean’s already-hard cock.

For his part, Dean just hissed and licked his lips, watching under hooded eyes while Cas sucked the head of his cock into his mouth and began easing downward, sucking gently. But really…

As good as Cas’s mouth felt, this wasn’t what Dean had been going for, here. So, after a couple minutes of enjoying an unhurried blowjob, he reached down to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair and pulled him upward again. Cas blinked slightly but allowed it, climbing back up over him and leaning to kiss him again, tasting of salty precome. “No?”

Dean just chuckled and drifted a hand down his back to squeeze his ass gently. “Not really what I had in mind.”

Cas laughed into the next kiss, but then shifted to the side, climbing off of Dean to get out of his boxers, while Dean took the reprieve to kick his own boxers off the rest of the way, too, before rolling over on top of Cas and leaning in to kiss him again, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed up against the younger man’s. Cas always felt perfect against him, and he knew Cas felt the same way. Like they were made for each other, he had said before.

In his younger days, Dean had never imagined he would end up in a long-term relationship with another man. He had never imagined himself in a long-term relationship with anyone, to be fair, but then Cas had come along and blown all of his naïve preconceptions out of the water.

He had always been bisexual, interested in both women and men, but Dean had never told anyone that, it had been a carefully guarded secret—until Cas. He had taken one look at Cas, way back when they were eighteen years old, and basically fallen in love at first sight, something he had never thought was possible—up until it had happened.

His love for Cas was what got him through his darkest days and his loneliest nights on the road. Their texting and phone calls and video chats were what he lived for—not Hunting, as his dad had tried to teach him. The sex, when they were together, was incredible, the emotional intimacy divine. Marrying Cas was just another step in the natural progression of their relationship and, as Sam had said, a long time coming.

Now Dean just leaned down to kiss Cas again, deeply and slowly, heat and passion and every emotion he was pretty sure he was shit at expressing in words. Cas kissed back the same way, pouring his feelings into it even as he dragged his hands down Dean’s back—then stretched with one arm, reaching to fumble for the bedside table drawer.

When he couldn’t quite reach it, he muttered against Dean’s lips, “Dean, the lubricant.”

“You can just say ‘lube’, you know.” Dean chuckled and kissed him again before easing back and reaching over to nick the lube from the table drawer. There were condoms in the drawer, too, just in case, but they didn’t use them anymore—hadn’t in a long time. They were exclusive and they trusted each other, and that was enough.

When Dean settled back over him again, Cas drew him down into another kiss, then just pushed him gently downward. Dean went more than willingly, kissing along Cas’s collar bone and then down his chest, over his ribs to his abdomen. Once there he sat back on his heels and patted at one of Cas’s hips. “Legs up, Cas.”

“Mm.” Cas made a soft agreeing noise and got himself into position, then let his head fall back, hands twisting in the blankets already while Dean slicked his fingers up and reached to start prepping him. “Dean…”

“I know.” First one finger, then two, leading in to three, they had done this dance more times than they could count, and it never got old, especially when Dean was so good at finding Cas’s prostate, rubbing against it, manipulating it, leaving the younger man gasping for air and pulling at the blankets, moaning breathlessly. Loudly.

Finally, when Dean judged him to be relaxed enough—loose enough—he pulled his hand back and climbed up over Cas, easing between his legs, settling over him and smoothing a hand down one of Cas’s hips before pushing his throbbing cock into his boyfriend’s body.

Cas moaned, long and low, deep in is chest, and kissed back when Dean ducked in, already lifting his legs to wrap around Dean’s hips, holding tight there, urging him to start moving. “Dean…!”

“I’ve got you…” Dean murmured softly, even as he braced his knees and began to roll his hips against Cas’s, burying his face in the crook of Cas’s neck as he fucked into him, slow and deep.

Cas just continued moaning breathlessly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Dean’s waist, hands holding tight at the small of his back, feeling every movement that the older man made under his fingers. He started rocking his own hips to meet Dean’s thrusts, hot and kinetic and perfect, God it felt perfect.

Dean had himself propped up on his forearms, but began kissing along Cas’s shoulder heatedly, nuzzling at his neck and biting here-and-there, just little, gentle nips. Cas’s cock, meanwhile, was trapped between them, rubbing against Dean’s abdomen with every rock of the older man’s hips. It was almost enough to make him come right then—but he held off through sheer willpower alone, not wanting to end things too soon.

“Oh, God, you feel so… so good…!”

When they were together like this—really making love, not just fucking, not just sex—they both got completely lost in each other, in each other’s bodies, in the push-and-pull of their lovemaking, the friction and the passion and how absolutely perfect it felt to be together like they currently were.

Now they sank into another series of long, deep kisses, continuing to move together slowly, unhurried, deep and full-bodied, until they were both so breathless and overstimulated that they simply couldn’t hold on anymore.

Cas came first, mostly because Dean shifted his weight to one arm and slid the opposite hand in between them to jerk Cas off along with their movements. He didn’t last long after that, clutching at Dean’s back and coming with a panted cry, stars behind his closed eyelids.

Dean followed shortly after, just another minute or two, during which Cas continued to sluggishly rock his hips even though he had already come. Then Dean’s thrusts fell out of rhythm, went jerky—and he buried himself deep inside the younger man, coming with a low groan, muffled into Cas’s shoulder.

Then, his arms shaking slightly, Dean lowered himself down over Cas, huffing a pleased noise against Cas’s shoulder before nuzzling into his neck, pressing a kiss there, just warm and affectionate and the slightest bit breathless. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him gently and smiling up at the ceiling, head still back as he caught his breath.

“I saw stars again…” Cas said after a few minutes, once their breathing had evened out. He patted at Dean’s side until the other man grumbled and pulled out of him, then rolled off him, landed on his back and let Cas cuddle into his side. “Mm. Haven’t seen stars like that in… a while.”

“I felt that good, did I?” Dean chuckled, one hand rubbing up and down Cas’s side gently, affectionately.

“It always feels good, having you inside me.” Cas hummed, eyes closed and head resting on Dean’s shoulder. He had one hand up and toying with Dean’s pendant absently. “But I love it when we… do this. Make love. It’s different. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Mm, you have. I feel the same way.” Then a grin and he added, “though it’s hot as hell when you ride me, Cas. Just saying.”

“We’ll do that again next time, then.” Cas’s lips quirked with amusement. He was quiet for a long moment before speaking up again: “you took down the Wall Of Weird. I guess you didn’t need it anymore, with the job being over.”

“Yeah, and it was good to rip at something while Dad screamed at me earlier.” Dean sighed, and then attempted to change the subject: “I’m buying you some posters, by the way. Your walls are way too bare. It’s weird.”

“I’m a weird guy, remember?”

“True, but still.”

“I don’t mind some posters, but should we leave that section of wall blank, though?” Cas asked, smiling to himself as he spoke, “in case you need it for planning a job when you’re here, once you move in?”

Dean made a little surprised noise because he honestly hadn’t thought of that, but it was a good point. But that aside… the thought of actually moving his meager belongings into the apartment, of having a real home to come back to after jobs? Dean found himself smiling, just a small expression of happiness. “Maybe get a bulletin board for that spot, though, I don’t want to ruin the walls.”

“That’s a good idea.” Cas agreed. He pushed up, then, to look down at Dean, his own smile fading a little; “I’m sorry about your Dad. I know you said that’s how he would react, but…” Ducking in, he kissed Dean gently. “I’m still sorry.” Then another smile, though; “I am glad Sam reacted well, though. I told you he would. What did he say?”

Dean smiled up at him, reaching up to run his fingers through Cas’s mussed-up hair gently. “He said he’ll be here; I just have to give him the date and time. So. You’ve got a best man. I’ve got a best man.” His smile edged into a grin, “I guess we need to book the appointment at the courthouse.”

“Yeah,” Cas’s own smile widened hugely, “I guess we do.”

-- --

The earliest appointment they could get at the courthouse was for a month from then, and while that wasn’t ideal… it was what it was. They couldn’t speed up the system any easier than they could stop relying on oxygen. So, they booked it, and then went about notifying Charlie and Sam so they could arrange their travel plans accordingly.

Dean also, reluctantly, called his dad to inform him of the date, only to receive another shouted lecture about responsibility for his trouble. And then his dad proceeded to shove another job at him on the heels of the tongue lashing—and why wasn’t he surprised? Dean cast a glance over toward Cas, who was sitting on the couch talking to Charlie on his laptop. He probably did have the time. Finally, he just agreed to take the job to shut his dad up and quickly took down the case details.

When his dad hung up on him this time Dean mouthed ‘screw you’ toward the phone before dropping it onto the kitchen counter. Then he headed over to flop face-first on the bed and wait for Cas to finish his conversation with Charlie. When Marshmallow hopped up next to him a minute later, Dean just blindly gave the cat a scratch and muttered “hi Marshy” into the pillows. (Okay, so maybe he did like Cas’s cat. A little.)

A half an hour later, give or take, Cas finally said goodbye to Charlie and closed down his laptop, then looked over toward the bed—and smiled when he saw Dean face-down on the mattress, clearly dozing in the sunlight coming in through the window, with Marshmallow curled up against his side. It was downright adorable.

Heading over, Cas gently scooped Marshmallow up and took him over to the chair in the corner. “Sorry, but that’s my spot.” He told the cat as he gave him a gentle pat. Marshmallow just blinked up at him, grumpy face as always, before curling up and laying down on the chair. He was usually pretty easy to get along with.

That taken care of, Cas made his way back over to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge next to Dean, reaching with one hand to thread his fingers through Dean’s hair, stroking gently, affectionately, a little smile on his face the entire time. “Dean… hey…”

After a moment or two Dean began to stir, sighing out a deep breath and leaning into Cas’s touch. He still had his eyes closed, though. “…mm?”

Cas just continued stroking through Dean’s hair, watching him fondly. “You do like my cat after all.”

“Mebbe a little.” Dean admitted in a sleepy mumble, and finally cracked his eyes open to smile up at Cas. He slowly moved, rolling onto his back and tugging Cas’s hand in to kiss against his palm gently. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“It’ll be our secret.” Cas agreed, sounding amused, then, “not to ruin the moment, but what did your Dad say? More of the same?”

“Yeah…” A little, frustrated noise. Cas cupped his hand against Dean’s jaw warmly, thumb rubbing along his cheek, gentle affection. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “He just gave me a self-righteous speech about how irresponsible I’m being. Yelled it. And then…”

Dean trailed off with a sigh and Cas prompted softly, “and then?”

“He gave me another job.” The older man’s green eyes opened again, and he gave Cas an apologetic look; “I’m sorry. I couldn’t really say no. It’s just this ghoul thing in Colorado and then I’ll be right back here, I promise. Two weeks, tops.”

“Counting travel time?” Cas joked—and when Dean gave him a look he sighed and shifted around, climbing onto the bed properly and cuddling up against Dean, wrapping an arm across his chest to hold him close. “I understand, Dean. Hunting is your job. I’m used to having you come and go from my life, so this really isn’t much different. So go, take care of the ghoul… thing. And then come back here. Okay?”

Dean just settled with him, one hand coming up to rub against Cas’s arm. “Feels different this time.”

“Because this is your home now.” Cas reasoned, tipping his head to kiss by Dean’s jaw, “a real home. Not a cheap motel. Somewhere you can come back to time and again, and really… hang your hat. Figuratively speaking. I know you generally don’t wear hats.”

“Not usually, no.” Dean chuckled, squeezing his arm around Cas in a little hug. “The last time I had a real… home. Was when I was four. Right before my Mom died. It’s been almost twenty years, Cas. So… this is…”

“A lot?” Cas asked softly.

“A lot.” Dean agreed. “But it’s good. So yeah, I’ll go take care of the Colorado thing. And then I’ll come back home. To you.”

A gentle smile from Cas and he pressed a little closer, leaning up to kiss Dean warmly. “I like the sound of that.”

The older man returned the kiss with a soft happy hum, deep in his throat. “Yeah, me too.”

-- --

Dean left the next morning after he and Cas had breakfast and showered together—and this time they absolutely made love in the shower, both of them saying goodbye, somewhat, even if it was only going to be for a little while this time.

Then Dean packed up his things—but not all of them, this time, there were certain items that he didn’t need on this Hunt that he left behind. Cas promised to find somewhere to put everything; he’d empty out a couple drawers in the dresser, make room in the closet, clear out some shelves so Dean could feel free to move in properly when he came back. They could even put up posters or artwork that Dean liked, since Cas didn’t particularly care either way (as long as it wasn’t Playboy centerfolds. He drew the line at Playboy centerfolds.) It would be nice. Perfect.

They took possibly too much time saying goodbye at the door before Dean left, but that was nothing new. They stood around, just holding each other and exchanging little, lingering kisses until Cas finally gave Dean a gentle push against his chest. Dean pouted at him, but disappeared into the Tallahassee sun anyway, his duffle bag significantly lighter than usual and his key to the apartment securely in his pocket.

Cas resisted the urge to go to the window and watch Dean drive away for approximately five seconds before crossing the room and doing just that. He didn’t think Dean could see him, but he waved anyway, watching the car pull out and drive off.

Then, with Dean well and truly gone and safety foremost on his mind now, Cas went back to the door and locked both the deadbolt and the chain lock. They would have to see to warding the apartment and getting hex bags into place when Dean got back from his Hunt. Maybe the wards could go under the posters—not that they were likely to have many houseguests to see them, even if they weren’t. Possibly occasionally Charlie or Sam.

Cas spent the rest of the day going through his things, clearing space for Dean for when he came back and packing up some of his more disused clothes and books into a bag to take to the thrift store. Then he put away the few items that Dean had already left behind. That was followed up by digging out his textbooks, notebooks and laptop and settling in for a rather long study session to make up for what he had (admittedly) been lax on while Dean had been there. Supper that night was a TV dinner done in the oven. Marshmallow’s automatic feeder went off at precisely seven o’clock, the same as usual, and the cat practically dove at it, also the same as usual.

The next three days were spent much the same, studying with breaks for food or to call or video chat with Dean—or Charlie. His tinnitus started bothering him over those days, getting louder and more irritating until Cas finally broke down and took some of Dean’s antihistamines—the doctors had said, years ago, that they might help. They didn’t. The antihistamines just made him sleepy and not care as much because of it.

The following Monday he returned to class and work after his “family vacation.” Went back to chatting with Alfie in Graduate Theology and helping out customers at the Gas-n-Sip downtown, ugly blue vest and everything. He went back to his mundane life, missing Dean the entire time but also knowing that they would be together again soon this time, not months down the line like it had been before.

He didn’t tell anyone he was getting married, had already booked a court date for it, because they were trying to keep it as downlow as possible, just to be safe. Only Charlie and Dean’s family knew, and Cas knew they wouldn’t tell anyone. But keeping it a secret didn’t make it any less meaningful. Cas wore a little, content smile on his face everywhere he went for the next few days.

On Thursday he didn’t have to work, but his did have Advanced Folklore class in the afternoon. The tinnitus was driving him crazy again—so loud, chattering in his head incessantly—but he just pushed through it as he got ready for the day and headed out the door, wearing his trench coat as usual. As soon as he hit the front stoop, though, he stopped in his tracks, his entire body freezing up. The noise in his head redoubled—and became clear for the first time, and suddenly he knew exactly what they were—

Angels. Calling him home.

But—

“You hear us now, Castiel.” A familiar voice said, and when he looked around Alfie was standing beside him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Your vessel is finally ready. You’re ready. To return home, to Serve again.”

“Samandriel?”

“You remember me.”

“I remember everything.” Castiel’s eyes darted back and forth, his thoughts racing. Eventually, he asked simply, “you’ve been watching over me all this time?”

“For five years at the university, in this Vessel, yes.” Samandriel agreed, “since it was felt you were almost ready. I was sent to bring you home again, Castiel.”

Another pause, and then, softly, “what about Dean?”

Samandriel’s expression turned sympathetic, maybe a touch sad. “He will survive without you. You can keep an eye on him from Heaven.”

“But—"

“Are you questioning Heaven’s orders, Castiel?”

Castiel hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Dean, of course he didn’t, but Angel Radio was blaring in his head and now he remembered who he was—what he was. He was an angel of the Lord, and he had a mission to return to. One he had been absent from for nearly two decades. Finally, he cast one last look back at the apartment door, and then he shook his head. “No, I’m not questioning anything.”

“Alright then.”

Samandriel patted his shoulder—and they were both gone in a rustle of feathers.

Inside the apartment, Marshmallow’s automatic feeder went off, dispensing a meal’s worth of food. There was enough in it to last for a while. And one of the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling slipped loose, fell and landed softly in the mess of bedcovers Cas had left behind. It wouldn’t be discovered there for nearly a week.

THE END

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 1x18 Something Wicked

Dean’s a stubborn ass. He’s bleeding down the right side of his face, from a wound originating somewhere under his hair, but he refuses to let Sam look at it until Michael is settled for the rest of the night. Impatiently, he at least takes the towel Sam pushes at him and wipes at his forehead, but Sam knows it’s for Michael’s sake more than for him. The kid has been through enough for months of nightmares; he doesn’t need to keep looking at a bloody face to add to the horror. 

Sam sees Dean launch into full big brother mode when he tucks the kid in with a glass of warm milk, talks to him in soft, understanding tones and stays until Michael is asleep - with the promise that they’ll be right next door if he needs them. It’s peculiar, watching this behavior as a bystander, to see Dean’s familiar body language - the protective looming, his shoulders somehow broader than they really are, his 6’1 an impenetrable shield against the threats of the outside world. 

For so many years, it had been Sam at the focal center of Dean’s brotherly protection, and only now is he becoming fully aware of what it all meant. After what Dean told him about the Shtriga and that he still blames himself for what happened all those years ago; after learning how harshly Dad had treated Dean - a 9yo far too young to carry the weight of such responsibility - Sam feels like his eyes have been opened. So often, he had bitten Dean’s head off for his blind obedience to their father. He’d fought against Dean’s overpowering protectiveness, feeling patronized, not realizing it was born of a deep sense of duty and an ingrained fear - the fear of making a fatal mistake, of getting Sam killed, of failing at the one job Dean had been given by their father.

Sam’s only ever seen the oppressive side of Dean’s behavior. Now, seeing him tug Michael’s blanket up to his chin, turning on the nightlight before he leaves, casting one last watchful glance over the boy, he remembers similar moments from his childhood - moments of gentle care that belonged just as much to his big brother as his coarseness. Dean had looked after Sam his whole life. It may have felt stifling and diminishing to Sam. But at least some of Dean’s exaggerated protectiveness had been born of the need to make up for a mistake no one should ever have blamed him for, least of all their father.

With Michael asleep, they return to their own motel room. Dean still can’t quite shed his vigilance, although the Shtriga is dead. He keeps pacing, looking out the window every other loop, at the building opposite, where Mike’s room is softly illuminated by the night light. Only when Sam puts a glass of whiskey into his hand does he finally sit down. He sips, in quick succession, while his free hand unconsciously rubs at his head, where he’s injured.

“How’s your head?”

“Huh?” Dean looks at Sam, puzzled.

“Dude, your head wound? Your hair is caked with dried blood.”

“What?” As he seems to remember his injury, his frown turns into a scowl. “It’s fine, Sam. It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, you always say that, and then you end up cross-eyed and puking your guts out. Or we lose our deposit because you bleed on the sheets all night. We’ve been there.” 

Sam approaches his brother cautiously. Normally, he’d leave Dean alone. The wound has apparently stopped bleeding, and there’s none of Dean’s telltale concussed pallor or dizziness. But tonight’s revelations have shaken Sam, and he feels the need to do something for Dean, to make up for some of that messed-up self-blame his big brother has been carrying for all these years.

“Oh, come on, Sammy. This is ridiculous.” Annoyed, Dean slams his empty whiskey glass onto the table. 

Sam’s not giving up. He pulls out the puppy dog eyes. “Humor me?”

Dean’s eye roll is almost comical. He shakes his head, grunts, then sighs in resignation.

“Okay, fine. If it gets you off my ass, suit yourself.” He gestures at his head. 

Sam takes two steps and leans down to inspect the damage. Methodically parting Dean’s spiky hair with his fingers, he quickly finds the gash two inches above the hairline. 

“This could use a stitch or two,” he declares. “But I’ll have to shave-”

“Dude, you’re not shaving my head!”

“It’d just be a small spo-”

“No, uh-uh!” Dean swats Sam’s hand away. “Not a chance in hell!”

“If I don’t sew this, you’ll have a ugly scar.”

“... that nobody’s gonna see unless I go Vin Diesel any time soon. Just clean it and leave it, man. Stop being a drama queen!”

Sam raises his hands, then lets them sink. 

“Fine.”

With Dean being his usual annoying self, Sam’s Florence Nightingale urges are ebbing quickly. He still feels guilty about his ignorance, is still mad at Dad for screwing his brother up like that, so early in his life. Dad had not only treated Dean like a soldier under his command, he’d also expected him to act like a grown up when all he’d been was an overwhelmed, abandoned kid who’d done everything he could to keep his little brother safe. Even worse. When Dean had failed at the impossible task, John had withheld absolution and, instead, sent his oldest son to correct his “mistake” after letting him stew in his guilt for more than twenty years.

Anger twists in Sam’s chest. But he’s not going to let it out on his stupid, stubborn brother.

“Alright then.” 

While Dean refills his whiskey glass, Sam unzips the small first aid kit he keeps in his overnight bag. Armed with gauze, disinfectant wipes and a wet bath towel, he steps back in front of Dean, cleans the wound and does his best to get the blood out of his brother’s hair. Dean grumbles his irritation through all of it, not making Sam’s job easier by frequently tipping his head to throw back more whiskey. When Sam scrubs at his brother’s cheek to erase every last trace of blood, Dean draws a line.

“Alright, mom, that’s enough!” He pushes Sam aside. “Gimme that!” He takes the towel from Sam and roughly wipes it across his face, then tosses it aside. “There. You happy now?”

Sam sees him cast yet another look out the window. Even with several shots of whiskey inside him, Dean hasn’t lost any of his alert intensity. 

“You gonna keep that up all night?” Sam asks.

“What?”

“Standing guard.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are. The shtriga is dead, Dean. You killed it. It’s not coming back. Michael is safe.”

“Yes, I know, but-” 

Dean breaks off, struggling to explain himself. Sam sees him sorting through emotions that took hold fifteen years ago. The look in his brother’s eyes is that of a haunted man, and Sam wonders if this is one particular ghost they will never be able to chase away entirely.

“I’m safe, Dean.” Sam says on instinct. “You’ve kept me safe, all those years.” 

Dean’s eyes flick over to him, suddenly big and wet. It’s just a moment, before the older Winchester blinks and turns away, reaching for the whiskey again. He uncaps it and drinks right from the bottle.

“You go to bed,” he says gruffly. Shoulders tense, he sits back in his chair, angled so he’s got a good view through the partially opened curtain. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah.” Sam nods and steps behind his brother to give his shoulder a quick, understanding squeeze. “I know. Good night.”

Sam falls asleep half an hour later, Dean’s silhouette solid and still on his watchpost.

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the entire series on AO3:

[deans-baby-momma]

Wounded Hearts 10

August 1998   Rebecca’s POV

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Whitney,, Happy Birthday to you.” 

I join in singing as I carry the cake from the kitchen to the dining room of my parent’s house where  Mom, Dad and Whitney are waiting patiently for me. 

Today is Whitney’s third birthday. I have survived three years of being a single mother and Whitney has survived being raised by a single mom who is also going to community college and working. 

I had gotten a job at a local diner to work when they needed me. So far,hankfully, it hasn’t interfered with my schooling or her parenting.  

Another new revelation is that I now have a boyfriend. Well, we haven’t made it official yet but one of my fellow classmates asked me out and I accepted, but only after I made sure that he understood that I have a daughter and she always comes first. Always.

Brett had understood perfectly and even included Whitney on a few of our dates, like taking the little girl to the park or when the weather ruined our outdoor plans, he took  Whitney and I to the local aquarium and we walked around showing the green-eyed girl all the fish and other aquatic life.

That is exactly why Brett is in attendance for Whitney’s birthday party and is standing beside the highchair as I hand her daughter a slice of cake and a small scoop of ice cream. The two adults smile at each other as Whitney squeals and slaps her hands right in the food.

I swore off love after everything that happened almost two years ago and vowed to never get put into a situation like that again; to never let a boy hurt me the way Dean Winchester had. But then Brett came into my life and I could tell my walls were slowly but surely crumbling.

The one thing Brett has going for him is he is the exact opposite of Dean Winchester. Where Dean was tall, Brett isn’t. Sure he is taller than me but not by much. Where Dean was cocky and sure of himself, Brett is meek and modest. He also is always concerned about my wellbeing and if I’m having a good time.

“Are you okay Becky?” he asks as I’m washing up the dishes after the birthday dinner and dessert. “You seem distant. Is it something I’ve done?”

“What? No. Absolutely not,” I tell him as I finish drying up the last of the dishes and put them away. “This day has simply been the best. You are amazing. You are a perfect fit to our little family.”

Brett, of course, blushes at the compliment. I just cannot get over how this man, this pure and utterly flawless man can be so modest and shy and blushes at flattery and praise. I dry my hands off and reach for his hand. 

“B, if I were upset with anything you do or have done, I would tell you okay. I-” I catch myself when I realize what I am about to say. He and I have only been going out for a few months. I can’t feel that way for him, yet. Can I?

THREE MONTHS LATER

It’s been almost two years. Two years since I was in this spot; ready to take a relationship to the next level. Well, last time it wasn’t exactly a relationship but I thought that’s where it was headed. Until he took off during the middle of the day and I never heard from him again.

Sure, I was bitter and resented the very thought of Dean but once I looked into the eyes of my daughter, the daughter he had given me, my tune changed. Yea, if I were to run into Dean I’d give him a mouthful and probably wish him pain but he gave me the one thing I can’t imagine my life without now. 

Looking into Whitney’s eyes-Dean’s eyes- daily had softened my hatred for the man, ahem, boy that took my virginity and ran. Now when I think of him, I don’t wish for his death. I silently thank him for what he did give me. A beautiful loving little girl that is a joy to my life.

Now here I am considering opening my heart up to another guy; and hoping and praying he takes what I am willing to give him and not stomp on it.  

I look in the mirror at my reflection one last time. Tonight is the night I am going to tell Brett I am ready. Ready to take the next step, ready to become more intimate with him. For the past few weeks, we have not gone past the kissing and making out phase. Brett has been a complete gentleman and kept his hands either on my shoulders, in mine or in his lap; never pushing the boundaries and trying to cop a feel which is a big plus in my book.

I straighten my shirt, making sure the lingerie I’m wearing underneath it isn’t visible before I head out the door to tell my parents and daughter goodbye. 

Brett and I walk hand in hand down the street after a fabulous dinner at Calacino’s.

“I’m stuffed,” I say. “The food is always so good there.”

“Yea it is,” Brett agrees as he looks down at me. We stop in front of the fountain and he leans down, brushing his lips against mine. Knowing what I plan to have happen later, the barely there kiss makes my stomach flip. 

“Wanna go back to mine?” he asks, husky and breathy. 

“Yea,” I answer, smiling outwardly and internally because I know where this is heading and I am ready. I think I’m ready. Nope, I’m ready for this to happen. I am ready to give myself to this man. 

When Brett unlocks and opens his door, he holds it for me to enter first. I smile as I pass him, letting my hand graze across his chest. 

Knowing that we are finally alone and no one can overhear, I turn to him.

“Brett. I really, really like you. Like, liiiike you and I think you like me. So I’m thinking that-” I pause as I lift my shirt over my head, revealing the pink lacy bralette I’m wearing. “-it’s time we…..”

I shut up as Brett’s eyes glance down and then widen before he turns away from me. What the hell?!

“Becky, um, can you please put your shirt back on. I think we should talk.”

Deflated and feeling rejected, I do as he asks and tell him when he can look. “Do you not want me? Is it because I have a kid? I thought we were on the same page.” I ramble out as he takes my hand and leads me to the sofa.

“Becky, I don’t know how to say this. I’m what you would call ACE. I’m asexual. I have no desire to become sexually active with you or anyone.”

“Am I that repulsive,” I ask, the tears burning the back of my eyelids.

“God no! Becky, I find you extremely beautiful, gorgeous even,  but I’m just not attracted to you in that way. I like what we have now, the intimacy and the closeness. I like how I feel like I can be myself around you and you won’t judge. I thought you knew. I’m so sorry.”

Unbeknownst to me, while Brett is explaining and apologizing the tears start flowing. He reaches up to wipe my cheek but I pull away. 

All this time, I thought he was being polite and honorable and not forcing himself on me when in all reality, he just wasn’t into me. 

I stand up and walk to the door. 

“Becky, please don’t leave.”

I never answer him as I open the door and walk out. 

Dammit That’s it. No more guys. Two times I’ve been burned. I’m never putting my heart on the line again. From now on, it’s just me and my daughter. Whitney is my priority and if I never have sex again, so be it.

So-fucking-be-it!

@tftumblin​ @spnbaby-67​ @markofdean79​ @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @hoboal87​ @squirrelnotsam​ @natura1phenomenon​ @drakelover78​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @blacktithe7​ @atc74​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @sandlee44​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @lyarr24​

[foreverwayward]

To all my “Wayward Hearts” readers:

Y’all are not gonna like me at the end of this season. There will be an epilogue following the finale and I recommend copious amounts of alcohol when it finally comes out.

(It won’t be for a while, but I’m doing outlines and it only felt right to warn you guys lol)

For now, I’m sitting in front of my computer with a coffee giving myself feels and trying not to cry from all the angst and heartache. I gotta try to refocus and write the next chapter.

[chrisparagon]

Dean Winchester - Wound (Part 9)

Part 8!

Part 10!

Summary: Sam is pissed at Dean. Dean and Reader's relationship takes another step forwards.

Warnings: Talk of monsters. Blood.

WC: 2498

Sam was pissed when he got back.

“You did what?” Sam held his arms out to the side as he scolded Dean. Dean threw his hands and walked away from the charging moose to the small counter, pouring a drink. “Dean, those books could’ve been useful!” Sam yelled. Dean spun back to his brother.

“Do you really think that Sam?” Dean retorted. “We know what monster we’re hunting and now we just need to know how to kill it.” Dean said.

“Ya, and it could’ve been in the books!” Sam yelled.

“I’m not gonna let people keep on getting hurt while we chase our tails!” Dean yelled back. Sam spun away from his brother, running his hands through his hair instead of throwing a punch.

You sat awkwardly on the bed in your new motel room as Sam and Dean argued. By ‘people’ you knew Dean meant you.

“Guys.” You said in a quiet voice.

“I can’t believe you.” Sam said to Dean before spinning and slamming the motel door. They obviously didn’t hear you, or ignored you. You pursed your lips wondering what you should do. It was obvious to you that the monster couldn’t be killed, Katherine would’ve, or someone else would’ve, right? Dean was pouring a drink while you thought.

“What if it can’t be killed, Dean?” You reasoned. Dean threw his shot back, pouring another one.

“If it bleeds you can kill it.” Dean responded. “You want one?” He asked holding the bottle. After being attacked by a ghost? Ya you wanted a drink.

“Double?” You asked. Dean smirked while tipping the bottle. “But don’t you think someone else would’ve found a way to kill it if there was a way?” You asked again.

“Well, maybe.” Dean walked over and passed you your drink, sitting on the bed across from you. “But they’ve never had us on the case.” He smiled confidently. You scoffed and twirled your drink.

“What if we don’t?” You asked in a solemn voice. Dean downed his second drink, placing the glass on the bedside table.

“Then we need to find a virgin.” He said, laying down. You couldn’t help but smirk. You were about to ask ‘for what purpose?’ when Dean let out a sharp exclamation, sitting up again.

“You okay?” You asked. Dean grimaced and tried to turn around. He reached a hand to his back and looked at it. He had red liquid on the pads of his fingers. You stared at his hand, looking just as confused as him.

“Are you hurt?” You asked.

“Ya I guess.” He responded, trying to look around again. You set down your glass and sat on the bed beside Dean. He had scratches and blood oozing through his shirt.

“Oh my gosh Dean. How did we miss this?” You ask yourself more than him. You lift his shirt, peeling cloth away from oozing cuts.

“Well, Sam was a little riled, and I’ve had worse.” Dean reasoned. “And you, you’re useless with wounds. I’d expect you to miss this.” He teased. You scoffed again. You would have wacked him if he wasn’t injured.

“Whatever,” You said. “You would’ve bled to death if it weren’t for me.” You retorted while Dean chuckled.

The wounds weren’t deep, but they did need to be cleansed. You dropped his shirt and rose.

“Don’t move.” You command as you grab the first aid pack. You sat behind Dean, picking up a sanitary wipe to dab the cuts. Dean squirmed under the sting. You frowned at his reaction.

“Sorry. I thought you said you’ve had it worse.” You remarked. Dean sniffed and tried to turn around again.

“How bad is it?” He asks, causing the bandage you were holding to stick in the wrong place, his shirt falling again.

“Stop moving!” You snap. He smiles and complies. You lift the shirt again, trying to peel the bandage off while holding it. You grunt.

“You know what, just take this off.” You say, your frustration getting the best of you.

“You going for the home run?” Dean pulled the shirt over his head. “At least buy me a drink first.” He turned back to you, his eyes gleaming and paired a devilish smirk. Caught in the moment you forgot your task and your worries for a moment. A sort of warmth came over you as you looked at him, pulling you deeper into his trance. The world around you seemed to dull. The sound of traffic and the cotton balls in your hand seemed to fade for a moment. And it felt nice, to have a break from your thoughts, from your grief, so you just stayed there, staring.

Dean seemed to get uncomfortable under your observation. He frowned slightly before turning back. He wasn’t really sure what you were thinking, just that you weren’t responding like other women had.

“Sorry,” He mumbled. “Wrong time.” He tried to cover. His voice brought you back to reality. You stared at his face as you contemplated his words. It wasn’t the right time, the last time one of you bought the other a drink, someone died.

Then another thought pushed that one out. “Wait.” You moved away from him and sat delicately opposite to him. You squinted and held your hands up. “Were you… asking me to sleep with you?” You ask humourlessly. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he struggled for words.

“If that’s… what you want?” Dean asked, his frown just as deep as yours. You closed your eyes and shook your head. You weren’t offended, you weren’t even that surprised, you just didn’t know what to do. You moved back behind Dean, returning to your duty. You tried to push the conversation out of your head and focus on the crusty blood.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Dean said quietly, sounding deflated. You paused your dabbing, looking back to him. You felt bad for him, he genuinely asked a question and you ignored it.

“No, no-“ You started. You didn’t want to be misunderstood. You thought he was the most handsome man you’ve ever met and were definitely attracted to him. But you wanted to consider things before sleeping with someone you’ve known for a week. Dean turned back to you, curious for your response. “No, I- just… not yet.” You finished quietly. You weren’t sure how to say that, but you hoped that was enough.

“Oh?” Dean said. He had the familiar twinkle reappear. Your cheeks suddenly turned a deep shade of red, redder than they had been yet. Dean’s smile reappeared as he scanned your face, relishing in the blush. You drop your gaze, embarrassed that your vulnerability was being stared at. Dean turned around, allowing you to continue your work. “Okay.” He said. You swallowed hard, feeling your mouth dry. You really wanted that drink. You stared at your cup over Dean’s shoulder. No, that would be too obvious.

Your task was soon done, wrappers and a bloodied, damp cloth sitting beside you. Dean’s back was red and bruised, already becoming discolored. You wanted to reach up and touch them, settle his bruising and wish them away. You hoped he wasn’t in too much pain. You settled for pressing the edges of the bandages, redundant as they were already glued to his skin. You sighed and sat across from Dean, taking your drink. Dean hadn’t moved, he was fidgeting with his hands. You looked at him from your whiskey.

“You okay?” You asked. Dean turned to you, a guilty look in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry.” He started. “About Joanne, those books, everything.” He said. His eyes were sorrowful, dark with remorse. You frowned, wondering what caused him to say these things. He continued. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. To wreck your life with monsters and nightmares-“ You cut him off.

“Dean stop.” You said, a little too aggressively. You looked at him with pity. “You didn’t-“ you stop yourself and clench your jaw- drag me into this. But he did. You look down at your empty cup, unsure of what to say.

“Look, if you want out-“ Dean tried to start again.

“Dean, stop.” You say again, looking hard at him. “I… I’ve had plenty of opportunities to leave.” You explain. “And I’d rather know what’s out there than ignore it.” You explain. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Ya, well you don’t know-“ Dean starts again but you snap.

“Will you listen to me for 5 seconds?” You suddenly say. It’s harsh as it comes out and Dean frowns at you. Your ears turn hot as you glance at the floor, ashamed that your actions could be ruled by your emotions. You try to calm yourself, grief and shock in control of your system. Your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“When Joanne died…” You trail off, thinking of how easily Dean took charge of the situation, being a rock in the storm, calming people down, pulling you back together. You clasp your hands and squeeze them, trying to push courage into them. You quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. The bed squeaks as you shift on it and try to compose yourself. Dean is a good man, you have no right to treat him like shit, even if you feel like it. You take a breath to steady yourself before looking back at Dean. Why did this feel like a confession?

“Dean,” You pause, locking eyes with him. “There’s no one I’d rather be here with.” Your voice was shaky as you admit it. Dean opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a finger. “No one.” You said again. And you meant it. Not your friends, not your parents or a bodyguard or the fucking military. You wanted someone who knew the playing field, who would do anything to keep you safe, who knew the gives and takes of the job. Someone selfless and strong. Someone like Dean. He closed his mouth at your resolve. Your voice was low and hard as you spoke. “And I sure as hell ain’t backin’ out now.” You said.

Your voice was firm when it hit Dean’s ears, and he knew you had decided. He wanted you to be scared, to go home. Go back to your book club and wrestling, back to your life, back to normal. But even as he wished it, he knew normal wasn’t an option. You’d just witnessed one of your friends get killed by a monster, it’s hard to go back after that. He nodded at your response.

Your temperament cooled and you gave a sigh of relief.

“You’ve given me a lot to be grateful for, Dean.” You said, both of you again turning to look at each other. “And not just a pretty face.” You said a little bashfully. Dean sniffed at your comment, his own small smile appearing. You rose and walked to the bottle, pouring and downing another drink. You glanced out the window to the sunny day. A new thought came to mind.

“Hey can we stop by my house?” You asked, turning to Dean and leaning against the counter. He rose with his cup, turning his shirtless torso to you. You felt a buzz go through your body staring at his muscular figure. Peeling your eyes away as he walked towards you was hard.

“Ya, sure. What for?” Dean asked, pouring himself another drink too. He didn’t notice you staring, or if he did, he didn’t comment on it. You could feel your body getting hot with this hunk standing so close beside you. You tried to speak but you were worried it would come out squeaky. You open and close your mouth, clearing your throat.

“Um,” You test your vocals. “Well, I’d like a new set of clothes and you probably want yours back.” You suggest.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Dean said smirking at you. You didn’t meet his eye.

“No, you’re dressed fine as is.” The words slipped past your lips before you had a chance to close the gate. Your cheeks flushed again as you rubbed the back of your neck, instantly regretting your words. You saw Dean’s body still and felt the heat of his eyes bore into the side of your face. You cleared your throat and glanced around the room. Dean turned and leaned against the counter, giving your full frontal of his bare body.

“Really?” He asked. His voice was laced with confidence. You swallow hard, thinking of a deflection.

“Don’t get cocky.” You retorted, finally meeting his gaze. You didn’t mean to stare but you were sucked in, his emerald eyes glowing more than usual. Dean glanced at your lips before meeting your eye again. You subconsciously mimic him, looking to his plump lips before drifting over his freckles then his eyes. You could feel the tension build and Dean licked his lips. He shifted a little closer, closing some of the gap between you before scanning your face and parting his lips. You again mimicked him, your lips parting before you bite them, nervousness settling in your stomach. You weren’t sure what to do, if you should lean in, place a hand on his chest and push him back against the counter, or maybe it wasn’t an appropriate time? Should you even be thinking like this?

You didn’t have to wait long though. If Dean was reading your sighs right- which he thought he did- he did all the work. He leaned closer before taking placing his fingers under your chin and gently tilting your head to him. Your heart was pounding and your body was hot. You could feel his breath dry your wet lips as the door flung open, Sam bursting into the hotel room. You and Dean pull away, clearing your throats simultaneously. Sam wasn’t oblivious.

“What’s doing on?” He scoffed, already half knowing. You crossed your arms while Dean clapped his hands.

“Nothing, what’d you bring?” Dean asked, waiting for Sam to put the food bag down before approaching it.

“The usual.” He said in a low tone.

“Did you find anything from the crime scene?” You asked Sam. Sam tossed the keys onto the table before running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, ya, actually.” Sam said. You frowned, looking at Sam then at Dean. “One of the witnesses was scared out of his mind, gave a statement to the police. So I went down and read it.” Sam said. You stare at Sam, then exchanged a look with Dean.

“What did it say?” You and Dean say unanimously. Sam squinted between the two of you before speaking.

“Well, the police report said the witness swears it’s a monster.” Sam raised his eyebrows pointedly. Dean shook his head.

“Did he see it?” He asked.

“No, but he was adamant that the police write it down.” Sam replied.

“Well, did the report say who it was?” You asked nervously. Sam nodded.

“Doug Ledger.” He stated.

Masterlist

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanswaywardgirl @ace-of-gay @schizonephilim @carry-on-wayward-girl @savourtheflavourgeez @cl0wnb0yyy @dean-winchester-lover99bu @littlehorse-standsby-bighorse

@betsy-bradock @siospins2 @stitchintimefan

[soldierwinterthe]

A deal with the Devil (Part Two)

Summary: The reader, after making a deal with Lucifer, begins to have nightmares and hallucinations about him. When the baby’s birth is finally over, things get complicated.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Lucifer, Crowley, Sam Winchester (mentioned, sorry)

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1800 (approximately)

A/N: So, here I am. First of all I wanted to say something very important. When I say I’m going to write a story, that’s just a part, or two, I do. The problem is that sometimes I get a little to write, but either a day or a week, what I promised to write I write it. Anyway, here is the second part of “A deal with the devil”. I wrote the first part for Ana’s “Shit My Patients Say” Challenge, by @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms (If you mind that I tagged you, sorry I don’t do it again lol). Many people have asked me for a second part, and after so long, here it is! I thought I would write a THIRD part, but I don’t know. I have to think about it, also because I have so many other ideas in my mind, and I would like to write it before forgetting ahah. All right. Up, up! Go to read!

Part One

Feedback is always appreciated.

When the baby is born, I will come pick you up. And you’ll have to choose. Or you, or the child.

I bump into the bed, waking up suddenly. My hands are sticky, and I feel the drops of sweat coming down my forehead. I close my eyes, and I breathe deeply. It is the umpteenth time that I dream Lucifer, who continues to say those words. It’s been almost a month since I came in and left the cage to save my son, and the day of his birth is approaching more and more. And I do not do more than to see Lucifer from all sides while he laughs at my back; it’s a nightmare. I get up from the bed and left the room, I begin to wander the bunker, aimlessly. Dean and Sam aren’t there; Dean stayed with me for three weeks because he was afraid I would do some other shit, but in the end me and Sam managed to convince him to go hunting. His conditions were that I didn’t leave the bunker, and that I always had the phone near me, and that he would call me every hour. I feel more caged at this time, than a month ago with Lucifer. But I can understand Dean’s concern: he was about to lose his son, and he was going to lose me too. I think I’ve done the biggest shit since I was born, but for my son, I would have done everything. And if in a few months, I’ll have to die, or I’ll have to go to hell, or I’ll have to become.. Lucifer’s slave, I do not care. My son will be safe. Dean? He doesn’t know anything of course; how can I tell him such a thing? Whenever I stay alone with him, I feel I’m betraying him, not saying anything about what really happened in that cage.

Yet, I should stay calm: Lucifer is imprisoned in the cage, in hell, and he can’t get out. So I’m safe... right?

As I keep wandering in the corridors in the bunker, I hear noises coming from the library. I turn, and staying alert, I walk slowly toward the library. I’m speechless when I see who it was to cause those noises: Lucifer. He’s there, sitting in a chair, with a book in his hands; he looks up, and smiling at me, he gets up and approaches more and more. I lean back, shaking my head.

“You’re not here. You’re not real.”

“Y/n, is this how are the guests treated? Come here, hug me.”

“You’re not real!”

I put my head in the hands, and I close my eyes, hoping it’s just a bad dream, and that in a few moments I wake up in my bed. But nothing happens, and I hear Lucifer’s steps getting closer to me.

“You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real...”

Lucifer’s hand sits under my chin, and he forces me to look up and meet his.

“Oh darling. But I’m real. And I’m looking forward to having you all for me. Just you and me. Forever.”

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer is gone. What have I just seen? Was he really, or is it just the result of my imagination? I close my eyes, and I hear the tears forming in my eyes.

“Y/n.”

I look up, and I see the King of Hell behind me. I quickly brush my face out of tears, and I try not to show any emotion.

“Crowley. What are you doing here?”

“Will come the day when you call me ‘Dad’?”

I continue to watch him, but without going to answer his question; Crowley approaches the liquor table, and pouring the scotch into a glass, he starts to make small sips.

“What it wasn’t real?”

I froze; how long he had arrived in the bunker? That he had heard the whole conversation I had with Lucifer, or whatever it was?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, watching every Crowley’s move. Not even he knows what happened with Lucifer in the cage, and even if he knew, I don’t think he really cares about me. Crowley approaches me, and his eyes are fixed on mine.

“Don’t lie to me, sugar. I know Lucifer would never let you go without having anything in return. So we both know what’s happening to you. He has come into your head, and even though it’s in the cage, slowly he maddens you more and more. You need help.”

“Help? From you? No thanks.”

Crowley sighs, and looks down. He puts the empty glass on the table and glances at me.

“If you don’t ask for help to me, at least ask for help to Winchester. You trust them, don’t you? So why not tell them the truth? Accept my help, darling. Or when Lucifer comes to pick you up, it will be too late.”

And in a second, he disappears, remaining the only person in the bunker, again.

“It’s about to get the time, honey.”

A scream, and I’m awake again in my bed. I breathe short, and tears flow over my face.

“Y/n, hey. Are you okay?”

Dean is by my side, and my nightmare made him wake up; I feel his arms rub my back. He knows this gesture can always calm me after a nightmare. But this time it’s different. After all these months, I miss a few weeks at the birth of my son; it’s male or female, we don’t know. Me and Dean have decided to find out when it will be born.

Lucifer.

He’s still in my head, and he’s becoming more and more real. And now Dean has noticed that something is wrong; I say it’s the baby, pregnancy, hormones... but I know he starts to believe me no more. He knows something is wrong, and I don’t know what excuse to reverse to keep him calm.

“I’m fine.” I say to Dean as I get up from bed and go to the bathroom to wash my face. I feel Dean get out of bed, and come to me. His arms wrapped around me, and his hands are placed on my belly, now become pretty big.

“Y/n, why don’t you tell me what is happening to you?”

My gaze sits on the mirror in front of me, and in the reflection, I see Dean look at me. I turn around, and I make a forced smile to the hunter while I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I’m fine Dean. It’s just the bab-”

“Yeah. The baby. It’s weeks you say to me that it’s fault of the pregnancy, and of the hormones that you aren’t comfortable with. But I don’t believe you. I can’t do it. I read it in your eyes that something troubles you. And the fact that you don’t want to tell me, it makes me worry even more.”

“I... I don’t know what to say to you. I’m afraid... when our son will born. I’m afraid of not being good at being a mom.”

Oh, Dean... how sorry I am. I would like to tell you the truth, but I can’t. I can’t.

Dean takes my face in his hands and kisses me. If he knew... things shouldn’t be so.

“You will be a fantastic mom. You should worry that I will suck!”

I burst out laughing; how long I didn’t laugh for real.

“You’re very good with children. And you’ll be a perfect dad.” I say, as tears flow more and more to my face. Dean wipes my cheeks with my thumbs, and holds me tight to him. How will he feel when I’m gone? He’ll have to take care of our son alone, without me. But, hey, there’ll be Sam with him. And Castiel. They will help him to move on, and to grow our son. I know Dean can get on without me. He will have to do it.

“It’s time, honey. I’m coming to pick you up.”

My eyes open slowly. I see a figure in front of me, and immediately I go panic; I open my eyes and start to shake.

“Y/n, I’m Dean. Calm down.”

In front of me, Dean tries to stop my movements, and after taking a deep breath, I calm down.

“Dean..”

“You’re okay. Everything is alright. What’s the last thing you remember?”

I close my eyes and concentrate on the last memories I have: I was in my room, and suddenly, I felt a pain in the belly... the water broke. I was going into labor.

“The baby...”

“Everything is alright. You’re faint, and I and Sam brought you to the hospital right away. They had to operate emergency. But you’re fine... and she too.”

“She?”

Dean smiles; it’s a girl. I am a mother of a baby girl.

“Where is she?”

“She’s sleeping. Do you want to see her?”

I nod vigorously, and after that Dean has helped me get out of bed, we both go to the room where all the kids are asleep.

“Here it is. It’s her.”

A tiny corpse, wrapped in a dress, gently rests in the cradle. I feel the tears come into my eyes; I am so happy that any other thought has vanished from my mind.

“How do we want to call her?” Dean asks me. I open my mouth to talk, but suddenly, I feel dumb in the head. I groan in pain, and I hold my head in the hands. The pain is getting stronger and I can’t breathe.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

Dean takes me in his arms and brings me back to my room. When I open my eyes, I see him. Lucifer, who enjoys the panorama outside the window. He turns slowly towards us, and when his eyes met mine, a smile appears on his face.

“How are you doing here?”

“Who is here?” asks Dean looking me confused. I look at him, and I frown. Only I can see Lucifer, and no one else. I turn back to Lucifer, and I know. I know the time has come to say goodbye.

“Take care of her. Dean, takes care of our daughter.”

“Y/n, what are you saying?”

I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t think of anything else except kissing Dean. My lips sit on his, and we’re exchanging the most passionate kiss I remember. I hold him tight to me, as I try to hold back the tears.

“I’ll always love you.”

Taking Dean aback, I push him out of the room, and I lock the door. I turn to Lucifer, as I listen to Dean’s screaming from outside.

“Finally, you are mine, darling. Ah, how much we and I will have fun in hell.”

I close my eyes. And then. Fire.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just ask me!

Forever Tag: @hotwinchester - @iamthenewthor - @doro7winchester - @frickin-bats - @cirunia

Supernatural Tag: @jensen-jarpad - @27bmm - @mogaruke

Dean Tag: @love-charmer-sketch

@imaginesbyemma

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just ask me!

[firefly-in-darkness]

I know I know, I feel like I should write a Part 2 for Y/N to get her man!

Breathe...

Summary: Dean mistakes you for a vampire when clearing out a nest…

Characters: Dean Winchester & Reader, Sam Winchester

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, Angst

A/N: This is a part of @negans-lucille-tblr​ 400 Follower Challenge and my first piece of writing that I have made public so hopefully you’ll like it. I kept changing my mind with where it was going to go but here it is…

You spin around from the wall you had your back against, swinging your axe as the vampire leapt towards you. Its head hit the floor and the blood splattered across your face. You go to wipe your face with the sleeve of your denim jacket when there’s a crash through the front of the house. You freeze, then slither down the wall of the pantry, crouching and poised to attack the next vampire.

A deep voice echoed, “Ahh fuck, they’re already dead.”

Hunters never passed through your town. Not much happened here but you kept the supernatural away. A nest of vampires popped up every few months but were easily removed, a cross roads demon tried its luck just over a year ago and a couple of shapeshifters caused a little chaos but no murders. Nothing happened in this town without your knowing so who were the two voices coming from the entrance of the abandoned house?

“Dean, there’s more blood over here.” You heard the second voice a lot closer.

Your palms began sweating, the blood was dripping on to your lips and the rusty taste was making you nauseous. As you gripped the axe tightly, you darted to the kitchen island to get a view of the strangers. You didn’t get very far, slipping on the blood-soaked floor, you crashed into the counter. Within a second, your body was pulled up by your throat and your back slammed onto the kitchen island.

Winded from the force, you couldn’t escape from the hand around your throat tightened. You strained against him, scrabbling for release and that was the moment y/e/c met a pair of strong hazel eyes and it felt like time slowed down as you started to lose consciousness. As the light from the torch above you began to fade, you heard a whisper or was it a shout?

“Dean! Stop, she’s human!”

Keep reading

[sortasirius]

Duets

Pairing: Dean/Lee Webb

Words: 1124

AN: I literally just can't get enough of them?  Spoilers for 15x07 (obvi).  It's sad I'm sorry lol. Thank you for reading <3

Read on AO3 here!

Life throws a lot of surprises at Lee.  He has this bar, which is always full, this band, which is always willing to play the songs he likes, this life, which has given him more than expected, even with the secret that lived beneath the floorboards.

Lee sings solo, soaking up the crowd of the bar, and he likes being the center of attention, all those eyes on him made it easy to stay on key.

And then, one night just after his set, Lee swears the air leaves the bar and he’s choking, gasping, his heart has vanished, landing right at the feet of the one person in the world who he had never expected to see, the one person who he had spent fifteen years trying his damndest to forget, standing there in beat up jeans and a flannel, like he’d walked right out of Lee’s dreams.

Why did it have to be Dean?

He’s older now, but age looks good on him.  Like a fine wine, he has laugh lines, a little bit of grey at his temples, but still those green eyes that would stop a grown man in his tracks.  Kinda like they’re doing to Lee right now.  Lee takes him in, like he’s drinking a tall beer after a dry spell, and the more he looks the more he feels like this can’t be real.  Dean Winchester can’t be in the bar he named for his biggest crush, he can’t be hearing him play on the band named for his muscle car.  There’s no way he found him, no way he’s come back to him, no way he’s touching him again, his body really, solidly there, holding him tightly, fingers gripping his back.

He tries not to look at him too long, like if he does he’ll get pulled back in, get lost in those eyes, that body, that smile, that laugh.

Catching up with Dean is as easy as breathing.  They pick up right where they left off, talking about good music, bad food, hunts, family, friends, those they’ve lost, what they’ve gained.  Dean is different than how he remembered, he’s stronger and speaks less reverently of his father, but that laugh is the same, those eyes are the same, that smile is the same.  Lee craves it like a man dying in the desert craves water, like a drowning man craves land, like a man in love craves one last kiss.  Dean gives it to him too, his laugh, his smile filling Lee up, he’d never know how much Lee missed him.

He finds himself subtly trying to convince him to stay, to give up the fight, not have to worry so much anymore.  He has to fight the urge to smooth the lines in-between his eyebrows that forms when he mentions Arizona.

Why did it have to be Dean?

Lee and Dean get drunk, Lorna leaving them to soak up their memories after a too long look regarding triplets, because Lee never forgot that night, even if Dean had. 

Dean gets Lee to laugh with his stories, filling up the years with jokes and memories, like Lee has been with him every step of the way.

There’s nothing they can’t have, if Dean would just hang up his hat and be with him, but Dean had shot that idea down in Arizona, and here they were fifteen years later, like some kind of cosmic joke.

Lee even gets Dean to admit his biggest secret to a room full of strangers: he can sing, even though he told everyone in his life he couldn’t.  Lee stares at him like he’s looking at the Northern Lights, a reverence he has never felt with anyone else.  Not even close.

They sing together, one looks at the other when he thinks the other can’t see, and they flirt like they’re teenagers again.  Lee feels like he can’t breathe when Dean wraps an arm around his waist, when they get a standing ovation, when they throw a couple of douchebags out of the bar, Lee feels like he’s in his twenties again, the man next to him exuding heat and light and energy, Lee’s own personal star.

Dean Winchester has always known just how to play his heart.  God, why did it have to be Dean?

Lee knows what has to happen, part of him knew it the second he saw Dean in the bar.  You don’t just get away scot free, eventually a hunter was going to figure him out. But why, he asks the Heavens, trying to hold his emotions in, why did it have to be Dean?  Killing came easy when you got what you wanted, but why did it have to be Dean?  Why did he have to knock Dean out, tie Dean to a chair, see Dean’s face twist in pain and heartbreak when Lee touched his shoulder?  Why did he have to feed Dean to the monster?  Why did it have to be Dean?

His heart breaks when Dean calls his name, and he wishes with all his might that he had the strength to give it all up for him.  Hell, he almost does.

His bar is covered in broken glass and splintered wood, covered in the remnants of a fight, the start of another.  Lee gets angry when Dean calls him the monster, because, with anger, it’s easier to face what they’re about to do.  He gets a chair broken over his back, feels Dean pressing him into the ground with his thighs, not for pleasure, but for violence, and Lee intends to kill him, because killing is all either of them remember about each other anymore.

Lee tries to forget those nights without hunts, when they were alone, when lips met each other and they danced to Led Zeppelin on an out of tune radio, more static than anything else.  He tries to forget the way Dean had touched him that first time, without the distraction of others in the room, he tries to forget his eyes, his body, his heart.

Why did it have to be Dean?

Dean gets the best of him, runs him through with his own pool cue, and he clutches at him, feeling Dean’s body shake against his, and Lee is glad, because if any hunter was going to take him out, at least it was the one he’d always been in love with. 

The last thing he sees before he hits the floor are those green eyes, and the last thing he thinks is the same thing he’s thought of for twenty-one years, ever since he met a nineteen year old boy in a beat up leather jacket:

Why did it have to be Dean?

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Wonder of You

Letting Go- Chapter 5

So this one is a long one. Thank you as always for your likes, re-blogs and comments. I LOVE FEEDBACK!!!!!! 

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story, or anything else I have. 

Tag List:

@magssteenkamp @fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

Blake couldn’t sleep. Well she didn’t want to sleep. Every single time she closed her eyes, she watched Dean get electrocuted again and again. Granted he was okay now, he had been healed, but the prospect of loosing him had been too close for comfort. Or she saw herself and Sam locked in cages waiting to be slaughtered. So instead of sleeping herself, she watched him and Sam sleep. It was a gift to watch their chests rise and fall. The idea of living in a world without Dean or Sam Winchester in it was more than she could handle. 

The whole ordeal had taken a lot out of Dean emotionally. Someone had died so that he could live. Even though he didn’t make the choice, it was eating at him. And the idea that he wanted to sacrifice his life so someone neither of them knew could live made Blake’s breath stop. He couldn’t leave her, regardless of how guilty he felt. She had knocked the wind out of Sam when she hugged him gratefully for stopping the ritual and saving Dean. He knew that no matter what Blake had told him, she wasn’t over his brother. The fear and relief he had witnessed in those few days proved it. She just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. She also knew her and Sam vanishing had rattled his cage quite a bit. Blake turned her head to look at Sam. Her sweet Sammy. What was happening to him? Psychic visions, telekinesis? The Demon that had killed Mary had done the same thing to Max’s mother. What if Sam lost control? The idea of him hurting himself or someone he loved made her queasy. She looked at her phone willing John to call, but he didn’t. She knew he wouldn’t. She was so angry with him she could scream. She hugged her knees to her chest and shivered. The cold Chicago air nipped through the cheap motel.

Sam and Blake had barely made it away with their lives. She shuddered at the idea of being locked in that cage. The way the brothers were a little to handsy, leering at here. The one had mentioned keeping her for himself. The back of his hand running down her cheek. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Dean hadn’t found them. 

“Do you ever sleep anymore?” She heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Too wired to sleep.” Her chin rested on the top of her knees.

“You look exhausted. You shouldn’t have taken the couch. I would have.“

“I wouldn’t have slept in the bed either Dee.” Dean sat up.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” It was funny how sometime the nickname made her cringe and other times it warmed her heart. She considered her answer for a moment and realized that he would see through her BS if she lied.

“You mean other than being locked up and almost hunted like an animal? I’m terrified to close my eyes. I see you or Sam dead...or worse.” Dean took notice of how her voice shook. He stood up and made his way to the couch and sat down next to her.

“Tell me about the worse. You promised me you’d tell me about those nightmares, maybe you thought I forgot.” She sighed. Dean sat wide eyed as she went through the gamete of visions. Her mother’s corpse speaking to her. The terror, the running. John and Mary.

“They want me to know something. But they won’t tell me what it is.” Her voice broke. “I am convinced your father knows something. I think my mother made him appear to me to give me a hint. He won’t call me back. I’ve called and I’ve called.”

“I know. Have you ever done research into your mother? Maybe there is something there.”

“I’ve always been too scared to. There’s something on the edge of my memory that I can’t quite reach. I think it would explain things. No matter what I do, it’s like the memory is locked.”

“Well, we figure out what is up with this Demon and Sammy and then we’ll figure this out too.”

“How Dean?”

“Together. We’ll figure it out together.” He pulled her over to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re freezing. C’mon, let’s go lay down. Same deal as when we were hunting the scarecrow. Even a flicker of a nightmare and I’ll wake you up.” You nodded and followed him to the bed. She knew she would have a dreamless sleep. She always did when she was with him.            

Blake was fidgeting as Dean and Sam we’re chatting trying to figure out what their latest Monster was. She was overtired, stressed out and irritated with Dean’s constant flirting with anything that had breasts. 

“So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number.” Blake clenched her jaw as Dean smirked. She was waiting for Sam’s smart ass response when he got up from the table and was walking away from them. Dean looked confused and alarmed. They watched as Sam approached a blonde woman at another table. Sam put his hand on her shoulder. Her face lit up in recognition. Blake and Dean stood to see who this girl hugging Sam was.

“I thought you were going to California? Sam was questioning her. Blake wasn’t crazy about how she was looking at Sam. Something about her was off.

“Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.” Blake rolled her eyes when Sam had no idea who she was talking about. “Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while.” Dean was trying to get their attention but was being ignored so Blake interjected herself into the conversation.

“You’re from Chicago?” Blake Feigned interest.

“No, Massachusetts—Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?” She was gushing and trying way too hard.

“Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again.” “Well, I'm glad you were wrong.” Blake wanted to puke. This girl was laying it on thick and was super fake. Sam finally acknowledged her and Dean. 

“Meg, this is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and our best friend Blake.” Meg didn’t try to mask her surprise.

“This is Dean?” Meg completely ignored Blake. Dean gave Meg his Winchester grin.

“So, you've heard of me?”

“Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage. Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth.”

“Um excuse you bitch. Don’t talk to him like that. You don’t even know him.” Blake pushes her way infront of Dean. Sam jumped in before it escalated any further.

“Blake stop. Meg, it's all right.” Blake didn’t know if she wanted to punch Sam or Meg more. 

Dean let out a low whistle before speaking. “Okay, awkward. We’re gonna get a drink now. C’mon sweetheart.” Dean took Blake’s hand and led her towards the bar. Dean was making eyes at Blake once they got away from Sam and Meg and Blake was ignoring him. “You’re pretty sexy when you play white knight to my damsel.” When she turned and looked at him, her expression told him he shouldn’t have said that.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? I’m sure you said something similar to our bartender and your friend at the Police Station.” Her arms were crossed in-front of her further showcasing her irritation. “Screw this. I’m heading back to the motel. Enjoy your drinks.” Before Dean could stop her she was headed out the door and across the street to their motel.

A little while later Sam and Dean we’re heading out to the Impala. “So Bee is going to be in a mood when we get back.” Sam hated when Blake was mad. She did an excellent job of punishing them when they crossed her.

“Yeah she’s pissed at both of us. But this Meg. Who the hell was she?” Sam shrugged at Dean.

“I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird.” 

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?” Dean was pissed too. He’d never laid eyes on her before. Sam sighed.

“Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—“

“Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”

“No, of course not. Now, would you listen? I think that there's something strange going on here, like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead. I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?” Dean wasn’t so sure.

“I don't know, random coincidence. It happens.” Dean shrugged off Sam’s suspicions.

“Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on.” Dean gave Sam another smirk.

“Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her. Maybe you're thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?” Sam groaned. 

“Do me a favor. Go talk to Blake and make sure she’s okay. She’s been on edge for a few weeks. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor. I'm gonna watch Meg.” Sam rolled his eyes as Dean started laughing. I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry.”

“All right, you little pervert. You just want to avoid Blake until I calm her down.” Sam gave Dean a dirty look, getting irritated look. “I’m going... I'm going.” Dean gave Sam one last grin and headed across the street to their Motel.

Dean was sitting at the computer researching Meg waiting for Blake to come out of the bathroom. She had been taking a bath when he got back. Not that she had responded to him when he called her name, but he could smell her bubble bath as the scent seeped under the bathroom door. She had been moody for days. He knew it was from the lack of sleep and stress, but it was still unsettling none the less. She never got jealous. He flirted with women in front of her all of the time. He would be lying if he didn't admit to himself that it thrilled him that she got jealous over him. Sam had made it clear that Blake had moved on, but he never would. She would always own a part of him, no matter where life took them. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open and his mouth went dry. Her curly hair was pulled back into what was her signature messy bun and she was clad in what seemed to be the shortest charcoal pajama shorts he had ever seen her in and a matching cropped tank top. If she was trying to punish him to prove a point, it was working. When she ignored him and went to her bag, Dean picked up his cell phone to call Sam to distract himself.

Blake smirked internally at the expression on Dean's face. She knew what she was doing to him, and he deserved it. She pretended to not pay any attention to him, she knew it was childish, but she couldn't help herself. She looked over when she heard his voice and knew he was talking to Sam. 

"Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" She wished she could hear Sam's end of the conversation "You've got a funny way of showin' your affection... Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" Blake rolled her eyes at Dean's teasing.  "Yeah, that I did have some luck with. The symbol, It's, uh—turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva. It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls." Dean paused while Sam responded. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasing around here... No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, all right?" Dean had a look of defeat on his face. Truth be told, he was just as smart as Sam, he just hid it from everyone. Dean continued his conversation with Sam. "Anyway, here's the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." Blake turned to focus on what Dean was saying. As much as she wanted to play the game with him, this was too important to not really listen. "Well, nobody knows what they look like, nobody's seen ‘em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?" Blake snickered. One of Dean's favorite forms of entertainment was torturing Sam.  "No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though—Sam? Are you—?"   Dean pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at it, Sam had clearly hung up on him. 

"I mean, I'm surprised he didn't hang up on you sooner." Blake kept her voice even. Her heart was racing and her hands felt sweaty. Dean hadn't made her nervous in a long time, but the look in his eyes made the butterflies in her stomach come alive. His green eyes narrowed on her, lips slightly pursed. All she wanted to do was grab his face and kiss him, to make him forget about the bartender and any other girl he had ever encountered.

"So she speaks. Still mad at me sweetheart?" He watched as her nostrils flared slightly and then she turned away from him. He stood when she didn't respond and she felt his presence behind her and then his breath on her neck. "I asked you a question you know." He watched as goosebumps erupted down her neck and shoulder. It made him proud to know that he could still affect her like that. 

"I heard you Dean." Her voice was low and breathy. She felt his hands on her hips.  She didn't think that he could stand any closer to her. He was so close he had to be able to feel her heart pounding. She felt the stubble on his chin scratch against her shoulder. She didn't understand how her mouth could go dry and water at the exact same time. 

"It's rude to ignore people. Does it still make you jealous? Me flirting with other girls?" "Think about how you would feel if you saw me fawning over a cute detective or getting the number of a bar tender? Going home with him. Letting him touch me." 

"I would hate it. It would drive me insane.” He admitted. She felt his nose against her ear. This shouldn't be happening, they shouldn't be this close, but she didn't have it in her to push him away or tell him no. She groaned when she felt his teeth graze her earlobe. "It drives me crazy even thinking about it." She held her breath as he kissed down her neck and shoulder. She felt his hand slide around to her stomach and he pulled her tighter. She was wrong, he could get closer to her. 

"Dean..." Her voice came out in a whine. Her mind was trying to protest. There was too much at stake for the two of them to get distracted. 

"Do you ever think about that night?" She swallowed but didn't answer. "I know you know what I'm talking about. That night at the beach, before everything went to hell. I think it about it all the time. You and me, your skin against mine. I've never not thought about it. It was the best night of my life. You know I'd always choose you, over anyone else. It's always you." Her heart overran her brain and she turned herself to face him. Their eyes locked and his lips were crashing into hers. Years of need and want coming out in the kiss. She felt his hands roaming her body as she ran hers up the back of his neck into his hair. She loved him. She had always loved him. She always would. It was always Dean. She peeled his button down off his torso, running her hands down his arms and underneath his shirt. He was pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth and then plunging his tongue back into her mouth. She felt his hand slide up and he grazed her nipple with his thumb over her top. His other arm circled her waist and his hand spreading across the small of her back. Kissing him was like something inside of her was coming up for air. She became alive. Where this was going, they would never know because Sam burst into the room at they jumped apart. Blake rushed into the bathroom shutting the door behind her and leaned against it. 

There was no way Sam didn't know what was going on when he walked in. What the hell was she doing? It was a bad idea, she knew it was a bad idea. But it was Dean. Bad idea or not, her want for him out rode any common sense she had. She heard Sam talking when she opened the door after she had composed herself.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing. She was talking into that bowl, The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone." Sam's and Blake's eyes met and she felt the heat creep up her face. 

"Who was she communicating with? The Daeva?" She asked, cringing as her voice cracked. 

"No, like Dean said, those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse." Sam and Blake watched Dean as the wheels in his head were clearly turning. He sat down at the table looking through some files. 

"Holy crap." Blake and Sam gave Dean a questioning look and he continued. 

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my – my – friend, Amy, over at the police department.." He barely made eye contact with Blake as she crossed her arms in front of her. "The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time. The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas. Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from? Lawrence, Kansas." Blake visibily went pale and Sam sat down next to Dean at the table with a look of disbelief.

"Holy Crap. I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Blake stood quietly as the two brothers were reeling.

"I think it's a definite possibility."

"What I don't understand is what's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?" The boys looked over at Blake as she posed the question.

Dean shrugged at her. "Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." Sam shook his head at Dean. "No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her. "

"Sam's right. We need to know who is giving this Meg chick the orders to do this. There's a chance we wont get her to tell us if we interrogate her. It's a wasted opportunity." Dean hummed in agreement.

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Blake watched as Dean pulled out his cell, undoubtedly to call John as she and Sam went out to the car to get together some weapons. 

"So...sorry for interrupting earlier." Sam finally said after a few moments of them silently loading up the bag. 

"Stop. I'm not doing this right now."

"Bee...it's okay. I'm not going to make fun of you. I just wish you guys would give in and be together." Blake stopped and looked at him, studying the sincerity on Sam's face.

"Sam...I just...I can't...I don't know. I think instead of resolving anything things are just more complicated and fucked up. But right now we have to focus on this." Sam nodded, he took her hand and squeezed it and then went back to loading up the back. As they entered the room again, they caught the tail end of Dean's voicemail to John.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." Dean hung up and looked over at Sam and Blake carrying two full bags. "Jesus, what'd you get?" Both Blake and Sam grinned.

"We ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything" Dean nodded and the three of them began loading their guns. After a while, Dean finally spoke."Big night." 

Sam looked over at Dean. "Yeah. You nervous?" 

"No. Why, are you?" Sam smiled at Dean.

"No. No way.  God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"We probably shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. You know, counting chickens and what not." Blake looked at both of the brothers and Sam shrugged. 

"I'm just saying, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again. " Both Dean and Blake's eyebrows shot up, but Dean was the first to respond.

"You- You wanna go back to school?"

"Well Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing.  Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Blake was praying this didn't end up in an argument. Dean took a deep breath to try and quell whatever he was feeling. 

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you. Sam." 

Sam considered Dean for a moment before speaking. "I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—" Dean interrupted Sam before he finished.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam."

"Dude, what's your problem?" Blake held her breath as Dean was silent for a few moments thinking before he responded. She wanted to punch Sam. How did he not get it?

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man."  Blake stopped loading the back, incredibly interested in Dean's explanation. "You, Blake, me and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. " Blake felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t realize until they very moment that she wanted that too. She missed the way things were before too. All day, almost every day with Dean and Sam. Seeing John regularly. 

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before." The look on Dean's face broke Blake's heart. Sam continued. "I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way." Sam grabbed his stuff and headed out of the door to the Impala. Blake stood there for a moment and Dean turned to her.

"Are you going to leave me too when this is done?" The intensity in his eyes took her breath away. She crossed over to him and threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her.

"I'm never leaving you again. I promise you. Whether Sam stays or goes, whether your father stays with us or goes out on his own. It'll be you and me, always. I told you when you came to a California that the life Sam wants, it’s not for me. It didn’t stick. This is what I want ."

"Pinky Promise?" She heard him say into her shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment and kissed his cheek.

"Always Dee.”

Blake, Sam and Dean climbed the elevator gate and reached the top room of the warehouse to see Meg at the altar speaking the ancient language Sam bears when he was there before. The 3 of them quietly squeezed their way through the small space near the grate. Blake was shocked when she heard Meg’s voice.

“Guys...hiding is a bit childish don’t you think? Why don’t you come out?” Blake’s adrenaline was pumping. Something about this was very very wrong. “Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Dean was looking around.

“So, where's your little Daeva friend?” Meg smirked. 

“Around. You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good.”  Dean didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon.” Blake was about to say something but Sam beat her to it.

“So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?” Blake’s eyes went wide when she saw the shadows forming on the walls.

“You, of course.” Meg grinned. The shadow demon knocked Sam to the ground and threw Dean and Blake into a pile of crates. Blake felt her neck snap back and the corner of a crate knocked her unconscious.

When Blake came to, she and the boys were tied to separate posts. Sam and Dean were next to each other while there was a decent distance between the two of them and her. She felt bile rising in her throat as her head pounded. She vaguely heard Sam and Dean as she concentrated on not emptying her stomach.

“This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

Meg laughed and shrugged. “It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all.”

Blake furrowed her eyebrows. “You killed those two people for nothing?!” Meg laughed at her.

“Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less.” Blake shivered, her head still pounding. When Meg’s attention turned to Dean, Blake started working on getting the rope around her wrist cuts with the small knife up her Sleeve. Dean smiled at Meg. “You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time. But why don't you kill us already?” Meg scoffed.

“Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn't for you.”

Sam’s face lit up with recognition. “Dad. It's a trap for Dad.”

Dean laughed at Meg again. “Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good.”

“He is pretty good. I'll give you that.” Meg walked over to Dean and straddled his legs. Blake worked harder ready to rip her face off. “But you see, he has one weakness. You. He lets his guard down around his boys and pseudo daughter, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy.” Blake knew Meg was right. Trap or not, John Winchester would come.

“Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.” Dean had so much faith in his father. 

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.” Blake was almost free when Sam started talking.

“Why you doin' this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?” 

“I'm doing this for the Same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess.” Sam told her to go to Hell. “Baby, I'm already there. Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it? I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.” Blake was certain she was going to vomit when Meg started kissing Sam’s neck. She stopped when she heard Dean messing with the knife and ropes behind him. “Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?” Sam smiled at her.

“No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own.” Sam broke free at the same time Blake did. He head butted her as Blake ran for the Altar and flipped it over and watched as the Shadow Demon appeared and went after Meg. The last thing Blake remembered seeing was Meg go over the ledge before the searing pain in her head caused everything to go black.

Blake remained unconscious when the Shadow Demon attacked the three of them and John. Luckily it hadn’t laid hands on her. Dean looked in the rear view mirror of the car and watched her for a moment. He had laid her in the back. He knew she was going to be furious when she woke up and found out John had been there and left before she woke up and had a chance to talk to him. Dean knew she had questions of her own.

John had sat down on the bed next to Blake and brushed the hair off of her forehead with a distant smile. Regardless of what had happened he missed her and much as Blake missed him. He had protected her from the Demon and thrown her over his shoulder to get her out of that hotel room. John hesitated leaving and stared at her for a moment. He kissed her forehead and told Dean to tell her he was sorry and that he would see her soon.

“Should we have taken her to the hospital?” Sam looked back at Blake with worried eyes.

“Maybe? I don’t know. She would be even more pissed than she’s already going to be.”

“I still think he should have stayed with us.” Dean was exhausted and he couldn’t have this argument with Sam again so he focused on the road. “Dean- what’s...what’s going on with the two of you?” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Do you want to be with her?” Dean looked at Blake in the rear view mirror again.

“If that’s what she wants. I think she’s scared.” Sam nodded.

“I know she is. Dean, just be careful okay?”

“What? You really think I’d hurt her?”

“God no- the opposite. I think if anyone hurt anyone, she’d hurt you. Not intentionally. She’s like a baby deer, spooks easily.” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I’ll give her anything she wants. She wants me? I’m hers. She wants someone else and I’ll walk her down the aisle.” Sam looked over at the serious look on Dean’s face.

“Trust me. She marries anyone it’ll be you. I don’t know that she will ever trust anyone else the way she does you.” Sam saw a ghost of a smile on Dean’s face as he looked at you again. “Just give her time to realize she wants it.”

It had been weeks since John disappeared again and Blake was still raging. Dean admitted that Sam had wanted John to stay. Dean didn’t want Sam to be punished for the decision Dean and John made. It had been weeks and Blake was still ragingly angry. She had left John a few voicemails with some choice words. For Dean, she had no words. Dean wasn’t surprised she wasn’t talking to him. He knew she thought John had answers about her mother, but it wasn’t the time. With their closing in on the yellow eyed demon, the focus had to be there. Whatever was on deck for Blake would have to wait.l, so Dean let her punish him with silence and glares.

He knew she was pissed when the motels that didn’t have a couch had her sharing a bed with Sam, which meant she slept even less than usual. A sleep deprived pissed off Blake was treacherous and it seemed everything Dean did pissed her off. He wished she would get over it, but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. It seemed like any time the two of them got close to being something...John or Sam somehow ended up muddying the waters. Blake became increasingly obsessed with finding as much info about her mother and her past as she could. She refused to work the cases that John pointed them to. She sat out the last 3, doing her own thing in each town. She didn’t tell Sam what she was doing or what she was looking for. As far as Sam knew, she was rebelling against Dean and John. 

Sam was sure Blake had never been this quiet in her life. Blake was a talker who couldn’t stand long stretches of silence. She spent most of her time glued to her laptop or earbuds in her ears while in the car. The tension in the car rides was getting to Sam. Plus they could have really used her help during this case in Poughkeepsie. She would have figured it out a lot quicker than he and Dean had.

So Sam was going to stay behind with Sarah for a bit. He and Dean decided it was time to take a breather until they knew what their next steps from John were. Blake and Dean would be on the move and Sam would join them later. He was hoping the time alone would allow them to figure their crap out. He wanted to be just that Blake was keeping something from him, but he knew her. She kept things close to the vest until she had all of the information. Dean was the keeper of most of her secrets. But Sam had a few of hers too. The relationship between Blake and Dean was special. Sam has finally come to realize that he didn’t need to be jealous. She was his best friend, but she was hopelessly in love with his brother. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Blake approached Sam with the biggest smile he’d seen on her face in weeks and it was genuine. He knew it was because she was happy that he was ready to move on from Jess. It amazed him that no matter how messed up she felt on the inside, she always tabled it when she had a reason to be happy for someone else. Her empathy was moving. She threw her arms around his neck to hug him and squealed when he lifted her off the ground.

“I’m proud of you Sammy. Jess would be too. She wouldn’t want you holding on to her. She’d want you to be happy. You deserve a little happiness. But if shit gets weird, you call me and I’ll rescue you.” He laughed, deep down in his belly

.

“My hero.” She kissed his cheek after he set her down. “You going to be okay?” He looked over at the Impala and Dean. She nodded her head. “Look- I know there’s something you’re not telling me. And it’s okay. I know it’s something he knows and it has to do with my Dad. Just- maybe forgive him okay? Or at least try for me. He was terrified that night that something was going to happen to my Dad. And then you and the blow to the head...he knew you were going to be angry and trust me, he struggled. But he did what he thought would keep everyone the safest. And you not talking to him? It’s killing him. Please, while In gone, figure it out. We need you in cases. You’re too smart. And when you’re ready, you can tell me about it.” He saw tears in her eyes. She was tough as nails but had absolutely no poker face when it came to her emotions.

  “I love you Sammy. Oh! I put condoms in your bag. Don’t be silly, cover your willy.” She pointed at him and doubled over laughing when his face got bright red. 

“I hate you.” He mumbles and walked her over to the car and opened her door for her. “Oh, and Bee, I took your ear buds.” He slammed the door before she could react. And hit the top of the Impala to signal that Dean could take off. She crossed her arms in front of her and sunk down in her seat. Dean looked over at her. Angry or not, she looked adorable when she pouted.

Blake hadn't said two words since they had gotten in the car. It had taken Dean a while to decide where they were going to go and then it was like a light bulb went off in his head. He was desperate to make things with Blake right, so he headed towards Maryland. Blake loved the coast. She loved the salty ocean air. She always clarified that she hated dirty muddy lakes, but the ocean made her come alive. Dean knew it was nostalgic. Her beginning years she had lived in Virginia near the coast. He had seen her face a few times when the ocean air blew through her hair, he rarely saw her at peace like that.

He looked over at her, his eyes raked over her bare legs in her denim shorts and tank top. She might be pissed at him, but it didn't stop her from stealing one of his button downs. He couldn't stop himself, he reached over and took her hand and held it tight when she tried to yank it away. He kept his eyes on the road as her eyes burned with fury as she stared at him. She pulled her right knee up to her chest and rested her chin on it. He felt her hand relax and then she laced her fingers within his. He felt the first tiny crack in her icy exterior.  Dean smiled to himself. By the time Sam was back, he was convinced they'd be back to normal. He saw the second crack form when the recognition of where they were headed hit her. She knew Dean was taking her somewhere along the East Coast. He felt her squeeze his hand in anticipation. She still hadn't said anything, but the squeeze of his hand was all he needed. He looked at the gas gauge and decided to pull off into the Gas and Sip that was coming up on the right. After he had set the gas up to pump he came around the car as Blake was getting out. After she shut her door she turned around to head into the store but Dean had her caged in by both hands on each side of her on the Impala.

"I'm not letting you go until we talk. Actually talk, no yelling or swearing at me." He saw the stubbornness flash in her eyes. He knew at that moment is more about her standing her ground than actually still being mad at him. "I'm not kidding. We'll stay right here. Sammy can come meet us at this gas station when he's done with whatever it is he's doing. When Blake tried to look away he hooked his right hand under her chin and turned her face back to him. "I said I was sorry. I know you're pissed. I know he wont call you back. I'm sorry. I was too afraid that being with us was going to get him killed. I was even more afraid that him being with us would get YOU killed. You were unconscious for hours. You missed a demon attack. If you hadn't woken up when you did, you would have woken up in a hospital. I was terrified. And what if he was with us and the Yellow Eyed Demon showed and you couldn't defend yourself? It's after my father now. You being anywhere near him isn't safe." Blake swallowed the lump in her throat. The truth was, she wasn't angry with Dean, not anymore. She was just angry and she was childishly taking it out on him because she didn't have any place else to direct it. She felt the pad of his thumb swipe an errand tear off of her cheek. 

"You're right." She finally relented.

"I'm sorry...one more time for those in the back row?" She glared at him and he gave her his winning Winchester grin.

"I'm just so angry Dean. I feel like it's going to bubble over the top. I feel like if I don't direct it at something it's going to consume me. I was mad at you when I found out, and it was easier to just stay mad at you than to try and navigate this. I'm sorry for abandoning you and Sam on the last few cases. I just...I...I don't know what to do with myself. I keep feeling the edges of memories pushing to break through the seams, but they just can't shake loose. I know your father knows something...I know he's keeping something from me. And I should know what it is. I wasn't a baby when they died...when they killed her. I was 12. I should remember better."

"I promise you...we will figure this out. I just, I can only deal with one crisis at a time. This thing that killed my mom and Jess...we're closest to that. Let's see it through and then I swear to you that I will do whatever I can to help you put the pieces together. I'll hunt my father down myself, regardless of what he wants I will make him give you answers. Just hang in there with me for a little bit longer sweetheart, okay?" Blake nodded. Dean pressed his lips to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her for a moment with his chin on the top of her head. "Alright, go in, grab us some snacks. And if you promise not to come out with any of the crap you buy Sam I'll let you choose the music until we get to Ocean City." Blake beamed at him with a knowing smile. He watched her walk into the store, his shirt flowing behind her, ready to enjoy a few relaxing and tension free days with her.

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Text Imagines Masterlist

Running Away - Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

Comeback - Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader; Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Yellow Eyes and Lies - Sam Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Gone - Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Using their car - Sister Winchester

They Don’t Care - SIster Winchester

[supernatural-freek]

Danger In The Dark

DeanxSister!Reader, SamxSister!Reader

Synopsis: When they bring you back, and they do bring you back, they tell you that Michael’s gone. But you can’t help feeling that you’re still playing his game.

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST (PART ONE)

.

There’s blood in the shower.

You watch it run down your skin, chased away by the hot water you’re standing under. It should’ve been washed away by now, you think, but I’m still bleeding from somewhere. You aren’t, not really, but you can still see the blood and you’re curious.

They brought you back. Of course they did, that’s the Winchester Way. You don’t stay dead.

They tell you that they won, that Michael’s gone. You bite your tongue before yo can say that Michael losing and them winning are two different things.

You wash your hair and scrub your body clean, and you try and think about nothing. It works until you get back to your room, dressed in fresh clothes. You come face to face with Dean.

He can’t look you in the eyes.

“Hey bro,” you say, and you hide the flatness to your tone. “What’s up?”

Dean reaches forward and messes around with the collar of your jacket. You let him do it, even though the collar had been fine. You know this is Dean’s way of collecting his thoughts. “I stabbed you.”

“No,” you say firmly. “Michael stabbed me. You brought me back.”

Dean shakes his head and pulls away, sitting on your bed. “I wasn’t strong enough to contain him, and you died because of it.”

“I won his game,” you say. You don’t think Dean quite understands, because Dean lost the game. This behaviour, right here, is proof. “Dean. Feeling guilty is what he wanted. I’m fine. He’s dead. Things are okay.”

“I killed you, baby girl,” he whispers.

“Michael killed me,” you say, and you know then that you’re still playing a game. Say the right things, play the right cards. Convince Dean, forgive Dean, play the game.

Your brother reaches for you hand, and you let him hold on, if only so your own hands won’t shake. “I will never forgive myself,” Dean vows. “Because if I had of been stronger, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You don’t tell him otherwise, because lying is something you’ve always hated.

.

You dream about Michael, and about the world burning. When you wake up, your chest hurts like you’ve just been stabbed again.

.

Dean tells you that it’s too quiet one day. Sam’s out with Cas and Jack, hunting a shifter, but you asked to stay behind. You were still weak. Your hands still shook when you held a gun. Dean had volunteered to stay behind with you.

“There’s no noise anymore,” Dean confesses, and the circles under his eyes seems o mock you. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not adjusting properly.”

You purse your lips. “If I had an archangel smashing around in my head for ages, then he vanished because I was knocked unconscious, I’m not sure I’d adjust well either. It’ll take time, bro, that’s all. Nothing inherently bad is happening right now, so just take your time in coming back to us.”

Dean takes a very long drink of the coffee you’d make him. He side-eyes you, something equally prideful and dangerous in those green eyes. “You’ve grown up,” he says, and it sounds like an accusation.

You shrug and don’t waver under his heavy gaze. “I just died. Sometimes we forget that dying puts things in perspective.”

Dean looks sadder. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

You sigh, because how long is this going to haunt your family? “I remember the pain I felt,” you say, because Dean needs to hear this and you do too. “It hurt so bad. Insides, i was pleading for death to come because I could feel everything small twinge of agony. But I looked at Michale and I laughed because I won that round. He’d gotten angry, lost his grip on you. I won because I made the sacrifice. We cant expect to always win without casualties. Sometimes it costs too much, but we have to pay it anyway cause that’s our job.

You take a deep breath. “I was scared,” you confess softly. “I’ve never been so scared. Michael was powerful, you know that. But he’s gone now.”

“We’re still playing his game,” Dean whispers and your blood chills slightly. “You know that.”

you say nothing more, but you know that Dean knows.

.

Sometimes he comes to your room when both of you are haunted by nightmares. You don’t talk about it, but you both know you’re dreaming about the same thing.

Sam doesn’t ask about it when he comes looking for both you and finds you tangled on your small bed, your cheeks slightly damp with tears that won’t stop falling.

.

When they bring you back, they tell you that they won.

Sometimes you wonder if it was worth it.

[stilinskilovve]

NEWEST CHAPTER OF MY SUPERPOTTER FIC IS NOW UP PLEASE CHECK IT OUT!!!!! 

[samsexualdeancurious]

Day Thirty-Six

Pairing: Sam x Reader, PastSam x Jessica Moore, implied Sam x Reader x Jess

Words: 874

Prompt: “Imagine noticing that Sam unconsciously reaches out for you at night and he tells you it’s because he reassures him that you’re there and not on the ceiling” from @teamfreewillimagines

The first time it happens, you don’t think much of it. Sam’s always been a cuddler. That he would cuddle while sleeping isn’t much of a surprise. You just don’t expect it to become a regular thing.

After about a week of Sam desperately clutching at you in his sleep, you start to get worried. Is he having bad dreams and not telling you? It possible. He is a Winchester. But bad dreams usually involve a lot more flailing, sweating, and talking- or shouting- in his sleep.

It takes three weeks before you work up the nerve to ask him about it.

You’ve just gotten ready for bed and are crawling beneath the covers together when you finally ask.

“Sam?” you say hesitantly, rolling to face him.

“Yeah, babe?” he responds, still sitting up against the headboard.

“You do this thing while you’re sleeping- I’m not sure if you’re aware of it. I just wanted to ask you about it.”

“What thing?” he asks, puzzled.

“You kind of… cling to me, I guess. Like you’re scared I’ll leave.” You reach out to take his hand in yours. “Do you know what that’s all about? I’m not complaining- we end up cuddling and that’s always nice. I’m just worried, since I’ve never had someone do that before.”

Sam stares down at your entangle fingers. He seems a little ashamed. THere’s a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Um… it’s kind of something I do with anyone I share a bed- or room, really- with, especially if they’re really important to me. Dean says I do it to him, too. Reach out to him across the room, I mean. Though he also does it to me, in a way. I think it’s because we’ve both had important people in our lives burn on the ceiling. In bedrooms. In my case, above my bed. It’s probably some me trying to subconsciously make sure you’re still here.” He finally looks you in the eye. “That you’re still alive.”

“Oh, Sam.” You sit up so you can kiss him softly. “Thank you for telling me. I know that can’t have been easy.”

He smiles a small smile. “I’m glad you asked, actually.”

“We should go to sleep now,” you tell him, pulling your husband down under the covers with you. This time, you grab his arm and tug him around a little until you’re finally settled in a spooning position, his strong arm draped over your waist. “Does that help?”

Sam nods against the back of your neck, placing small kisses along the collar of your shirt. “It helps a lot. Thanks, Y/N.”

“Anything for you. Now, sleep! Mary has soccer practice in the morning.”

“Oh yeah. Sleep it is, then.”

“Jess!”

“Sam, wake up!”

Your husband shoots upright, chest heaving and eyes wild. He stares at you for a long moment.

“Sam,” you say softly. “It’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re okay.”

“Y/N?” he murmurs, realization dawning in his eyes.

You lay a careful hand on his cheek. “I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

He leans into your touch, letting his eyes close. “I dreamed… Jess was… it seemed so real…”

“Shhh,” you sooth, pulling him in to lay his head on your shoulder. “It was just a bad dream. Jess is in heaven, baby.”

“I know,” he sighs, hands coming up to clutch at your pajama top. “I just… she was right there and I couldn’t do anything…”

“That’s just it. Jess dying wasn’t your fault.” You gently stroke his hair. “Azazel was evil. If it hadn’t been Jess, it would have been some other innocent person. At least we know Jess is happy where she is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. If she’s reliving the memories I think she is, then she’s perfectly content.”

He rolls to look up at you, looking like he feels much better. “What memories do you think they are?”

“Family, for one,” you answer, weaving your fingers through his on your thigh. “But I’m willing to bet money there’s lots of memories of you strewn into the mix. You guys had a wonderful time together.”

Sam smiles, lifting your hand to his lips.

“Feel better?” you ask, laying down beside him once more.

“Much,” he says.

“Good. You’d better get some sleep. You have to mow the lawn in the morning.”

“You just want to see me without my shirt.”

“Sam Winchester, hot and sweaty and shirtless? Sign me up.”

Sam laughs and kisses your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You missed a spot!”

Sam rolls his eyes at his wife. “You just don’t want me to put my shirt back on!”

“No, that’s not it at all. See, that spot over by the fence.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know I am. Now get to work!”

Sam laughs, but he mows the spot, as well as several others.

Meanwhile, Jess kicks her feet lazily and watches the man of her dreams push the lawn mower across the grass. He pauses to roll his shoulders and she giggles. When Y/N brings him a glass of lemonade, she smiles. She can’t wait for them to get to Heaven. They’re going to have so much fun sharing Sam.

Tagged: @kittenofdoomage @teamfreewill-imagine @ilostmyshoe-79 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @not-moose-one-shots @supernaturalfanfix @basic-joy @keepingitrealcas @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @love-kittykat21 @manawhaat @mrswhozeewhatsis

[goldafterglow]

SCRIBS IS THE QUEEN GUYS DONT BE FOOLED HER WHISKEY AND CHARACTER HEADCANONS ARE ABSOLUTELY A+ TOP TIER

Fanfic Writer’s Appreciation Day!

So, first of all, I want to give a MASSIVE thank-you to everyone who tagged me in their own posts for this, it is such an honor to be listed next to such wildly talented artists, and it brings me SO much joy to know that people enjoy my writings! 

Second of all, I wanted to give my own little shout-outs!

@pedropasscals - Jay is just a ray of sunshine altogether, and I love all the stuff she writes! She’s gotten me to Feel Things for characters I’ve never even read for before, not to mention all the lovely things she’s written for characters I DO read stuff for.

@spacegayofficial - Tori writes for just about every P*dro character, and I appreciate everything they write! It’s all so much fun and everyone is always so in-character (plus they run the @onehellofanaskblog which is just a MASSIVE amount of chaos and i adore it)

@agentpike - Bri is absolutely lovely and has some absolutely beautiful series going, and I can’t recommend them enough! Her little Marcus Pike one-shots are to die for, and I LOVE the “And then I’d kiss you” story + it’s sequel. It’s absolutely adorable!!

@aerynwrites - Aeryn is an absolute delight, and I can’t get enough of her stuff.  I’m particularly into the Oberyn series she’s got going on right now where modern reader is transported to Westeros. I can’t wait to see where it goes! Not to mention all the other goodies she writes!

@sunshinepascal - Carey has a number of absolutely adorable Whiskey stories, ones that I go back and read again sometimes when I just need something to make me feel better. She writes him so sweet and fluffy that I can’t seem to get enough of it!

@littleferal - Lissi writes MASSIVE headcanon posts, which is absolutely incredible to be cause I can barely get out like 5 sentences on a good day lmfao. Her new little collection of sharing a bed together for the first time is absolutely adorable and I can’t recommend it enough!

@littlevodika - Listen, if it’s Clone fics u want, JJ’s got u covered. But the recent stuff they’ve done with P*dro characters is absolutely adorable and I have yet to read something they’ve written that I haven’t loved! Plus they’ve gotten me to write abt Mr. Murderpants in a serious capacity so there’s that too.

@din-damn-djarin - Just beautiful little (and not-so-little) stories!! Pretty much any character you could ever want, in any scenario you could ever want. So much beauty and feelings are captured in her works, no matter how long or short they are.

@goldafterglow - Listen Iris has a little bit of everything and I encourage you to look up her stuff. Cranks out like 4k+ stories regularly? idk how she does it but I think she might be like a supernatural being or something. Beautiful fics every single time for everything she writes!!

There are SO SO SO MANY MORE, and coming up soon I think I’m gonna take a page out of Bri’s book and maybe do like a shout-out event or something because that sounds lovely right now. But for now it is late and my brain no work so good anymore, so have this very incomplete list lmao. Thank you all again for making writing so much fun for me, i cannot accurately convey how much it means to me!

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

The Good Stuff

Jensen Ackles x Reader drabble 

Word Count: 544 

Warnings: Mentions of recovery from a minor procedure (not specified), lauguage, oh and reader is loopy from pain meds. 

A/N: I have literally no idea why, but this just came to me. I couldn’t stop laughing because this would so be me. 

Masterlist  |  Tag Lists  |  Ask Me Anything/Feedback  

My eyes flutter open, and bright white lights come into view over head. Everything’s still a bit blurry as I try to take in my surroundings. There are voices off in the background. They sound really weird and muffled. Come to think of it they sound a lot like the adults in Charlie brown. I can put enough together to know I must be in recovery. It looks like a normal room, not intensive care, so it must have went okay. Hell, I hope it did. It was only a minor procedure. 

Man, whatever they gave me was some strong stuff. Slowly everything starts to become less foggy, and the voices are more clear. One voice sounds really close, “Y/N? Honey?” 

I turn my head, only to be greeted by tired, green eyes. What? No. It can’t be. Damn, those pain meds must be the shit! 

I try to shake it off, but he calls my name once more, and I feel a warm hand cover mine, “Y/N. Look at me.”  

What the hell? He’s still there. Well, I guess the worst that could happen is I look like I’m mental so…  “Jensen?” 

My voice is a little raspy, and laced with confusion, but a smile breaks out on his face nonetheless. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Before I can stop the words from coming out of my mouth I ask him, “Are you real?” 

He chuckles softly, “What do you mean am I real? I’m here, right? You feel my hand?” 

My brows furrow, “Well, yea, but why?” 

“Why am I here?” He picks my hand up, holding it in his while his other hand brushes a stray piece of hair from my face, “I’m here for you, silly.” 

“But…. You’re Jensen Ackles” 

He can’t help but laugh, “Well, yes, last time I checked.” 

“And you’re here for me?” I ask, very skeptical of all of this. “Why?” 

“Seriously?” He asks, “You’re my girl, where else would I be?” 

My eyes pop wide open, and my jaw drops at his statement. Holy shit did Jensen Ackles really just say that I was his girl?  “What the f-” 

The door to the room swings open, “Oh good, you’re awake. How are you feeling, Mrs.Ackles?” 

My head snaps towards Jensen again, “We’re married?” 

“Yes, baby.” He looks at the doctor with questioning eyes. 

Mine stay focused on him as I try to work through all this. “I’m married… to you. Jensen Ackles.” With all I eyes on me, I throw my head back on the pillow with a giant grin plastered from ear to ear, “Holy fuck, I’m married to Jensen Ackles.” Giggles pour out of my mouth after that, to which Jensen can’t stay immune forever. 

The doctor looks over to him, “Don’t worry, it’s just the meds, She’ll be fine.” He walks towards the door, “I’ll be back to check on her again once they wear off.” 

After the doctor is gone, Jensen leans over me, trying not to laugh as he places a kiss to my forehead, producing another round of giggles from my lips. “Y/N, baby, you are high as a kite right now.” 

I stop giggling long enough to say, “I don’t fucking care. I’m married to Jensen Ackles!” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well that was fun haha 

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Tag Lists :

If you would like to be added to a tag list, send me an ask, or you can add yourself to the one(s) you would like in this Google Doc :)

Anything and Everything @tillielynn16 , @fandomaskedstuff , @naruko88558855 , @saltysamgirls ,  @hillface89 , @unusualcorn , @trilloku-blog , @perpetualabsurdity , @ria132love , @emoryhemsworth,  @mogaruke , @dramaqueenrolf,  @ghost–facers , @herbologystudent252 ,  @darthhayber , @nj-padackles ,@arses21434 , @cassiopeia-barrow , @percussiongirl2017 ,  @gailski1975 , @squirrel-moose-winchester , @waywardbaby , @lebanese-chickpea , @hobby27 , @weirdoblogger69 , @mystriee, @destielhoneybee , @buckybarnesisaninnocentman , @alex-zeppelin , @curly-haired-anxiety , @gh0stgurl , @heyitscam99 , @dean-winchesters-bacon , @andkatiethings , @fk12b , @jaremish, @thelovelyoldscentofabookshop , @awkwardnesshabitat , @I-hear-crazy-calling-my-name , @adoptdontshoppets , @spn-tw-37 , @maddiepants , @spnwoman , @spnbaby-67 , @screechingartisancashbailiff , @fanfictionismydeath , @sarcasticbitch89

Jay-Birds

@pandazombie69 , @brindz30 , @aubreystilinski , @akshi8278 , @partytillthenightsout , @dailyn32102 , @whimsicalrobots , @jackasaurus-strax , @carribear31 , @dean-winchesters-bacon , @biawol , @chocolateturtlepeanutopera , @in-tenebris-ad-astra, @mirandaaustin93, @thisismysecrethappyplace , @iamabeautifulperson18 ,  @flamencodiva , @klassickb