#this is why they had to give him Rowena

[spn-rewatch-ventzone]

Crowley and Cas may not love each other but if they have two things in common they are:

1) Hopelessly in love with Dean

2) Made it clear as early as possible they could not fucking stand Sam when they met him

[flugame-mp3]

SEASON NINE FINALE WAS WILD. I HAVE MANY MANY THOUGHTS. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. A FUCKING ROLLER COASTER FOR SURE

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Giving In

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, truth curses (with a silly twist!), light fluff, angst, smut (fingering, p in v sex, creampie), love confessions, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You're under a very annoying truth curse. The kind of truth curse that will kill you if one very specific, Dean-related truth isn't told. But apparently no one's allowed to just die in peace anymore.

Author's Note: It's amazing how I'm able to delude myself into truly believing that I'll actually write something short and only horny. No. We must write 3k of story and 5k of emotional smut. Enjoy!

Title from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Word Count: 8.6k

It’s past midnight when you get back to the bunker. 

You were supposed to be back that afternoon, but certain complications arose, and you’re back now. You’ll have a long, sleepless night to come up with an excuse for why exactly you were five hours late, didn’t text Sam and Dean that you were going to be five hours late, where exactly you were in the first place, and why the car looks like that. Scraped and dented and wrecked, like it had been put through a meat grinder and spat out in a hunk of metal that somehow didn’t explode when you drove it. 

You’re glad you didn’t take the Impala. If Dean yelled at you right now, you might start crying on the spot. Thankfully—in what should be a rare stroke of luck, but feels like a dagger right into your stomach—Sam and Dean seem to have given up on trying to wait for you to come home, so you’re free to retreat to your room and cry in private, like any reasonable adult who’s probably going to die within the week would-

“You’re back.” 

A light behind you flicks on as Dean snaps from across the room, and you grimace as everything inverts. Dean did wait up for you, and that’s tiny and electric high that goes right up your spine. You’re also not lucky, but that just feels like a given at this point. 

You will not cry in front of Dean. You have spent the whole night repeating to yourself that, no matter what happens here, you will not cry in front of Dean. He either think nothing of this week, and it will fade into the distance as you figure this out yourself and he never knows, or he’ll look back on it with nothing but simple grief and anger, remember you fondly and furiously instead of as a weak, emotional, manipulative bitch. Remembers you as the person you’ve spent so long proving yourself to be, instead of the feral girl they’d found you as. 

It doesn’t make turning around to face him any easier. He’s sitting in his usual chair, glaring at you with his arms crossed, and there are bags under his eyes that you put there. A tight line to his lips that’s your responsibility, because you’d fucked up and he knows it. He always knows it. 

Because you fuck up a lot.

“Hey, Dean, what’s up-“

“What’s up?” He snaps, and you have to force your body not to flinch. “You’re crawling back here at one in the goddamn morning without ever, I don’t know, thinking to fucking call when you realized you’d be late, and you’re saying what’s up?”

You swallow. “I lost my phone.”

“You, fuck-“ Dean rubs his jaw with a hand, giving you a look of pure disbelief. “You could’ve borrow someone’s, or prayed to Cas, or just, goddamnit-“ he mutters your name, looking at you with an exhaustion that makes your gut flail. “Where the hell even were you?”

“Um,” you glance down at your hands. “Hunt?”

“Hunt.” His voice is flat, and you wince. “That’s all you’re going to say.”

You nod. “Rowena called me. Needed help with something.”

“And you just fucking went with her, without telling anyone-“

“I didn’t just go with her, I brought a gun. I was careful.” you try to stand a little taller, looking back up to Dean, because you need to sell your half-truth of a story and get out of here. Out of where Dean’s just right there, and it’s making your skin crawl and your blood cold and your eyes push out of your skull the longer you lie to him. “And I did tell Cas-“

“Son of a bitch, that’s not enough.” Dean groans, pushing out of the chair to glower down at you. It’s an intimidation tactic you’ve seen him use before, where he makes himself large and furious, almost beast like. Sometimes it makes him look bigger than Sam, and he only pulls it out when he’s furious, and demanding answers. You don’t think he knows that, when he uses it on you, it does not have the intended effect.  

“Dean-“

“Cas didn’t tell us.” Dean hisses your name, stalking across the room and getting far too close for your brain to function properly. “You need to tell us, because we were, I was-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grunt, his whole body rigid as he scans over your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, and it’s the truth, so it’s like clear, fresh water over your head and down your throat. “I didn’t mean to freak you guys out. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t-” Dean’s jaw is clenched, and his words seem pushed through his teeth. “Just go to bed,” he mutters your name, and you feel something in your chest snap. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod weakly, and almost run away from him. But not to bed. You’ve already blown this up way too much to just go to bed. 

You go right to Sam’s room and bang on the door, keeping a careful eye over your shoulder for Dean to walk into the hall.

It takes a very long, tense minute, but eventually you hear a groan from the other side of the door, tired words muffled through the wood.

“Dean, she’ll be back, and you’re not helping anything-“ The door swings open to reveal a messy haired, bleary-eyed Sam, and he blinks at you with a frown. “Oh, you’re back. You should go tell Dean-“

“He knows.”

“Cool, that’s good.” Sam scans over you—bouncing slightly on your feet, every movement and breath feeling frantic and borrowed—and frowns. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, uh, you need to talk about it-“

You don’t bother to answer, pushing past Sam into his room and dropping on the end of his mattress, watching him blink at you, his frown deepening every second.

“Yeah, you can come in-“

“Can you please close the door?” You whisper, like Dean might somehow hear from wherever he’d gone after your fight. 

Sam nods slowly, and the movement you hear the click of the doorknob, the words start to fall out of you like vomit. 

“I fucked up, Sam. I really, really fucked up, it’s bad, I’m fucking fucked-“

“Woah, slow down.” Sam moves across the room, running a hand through his hair. “Just, start from the top. Where were you-“

“Rowena called me for help. Some sort of coven drama, she said she needed some backup because her magic was weakened.” You take a long, shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but the corner of Sam’s carpet. “I told Cas, just in case it was a trap, and left. I owed her a favor-“

“Wait, since when did you owe Rowena a favor-“

“Mark of Cain.” You mumble. “I told her I’d owe her if she helped Dean. One favor, cashable on anything.”

Sam says your name slowly. “You didn’t need to do that, we would have figured it out. I mean, Dean wouldn’t want you to-“

“I know, I don’t need you to-“ You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can we focus on one stupid choice at a time, please?”

“Yeah, sorry, keep going. Why are you fucked.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and decide to skip most of the details. Sam did not need to know about how the case was indeed at trap, or how you’d known it was a trap, but the favor had been a blood oath, so you weren’t able to run or call them. He didn’t need to know how you’d mowed down about five witches with the car—the sickening crunch still rattling around your skull—or how it wasn’t just blood and sweat on your brow, but something from an animal you’d really hoped you’d mistranslated from Latin. 

He just needs to know the reason you hadn’t killed Rowena when you’d escaped and taken out the rest of the coven. 

He just needs to know about the problem.

“It went to shit. Really big shit, Sam. I’m kind of… cursed.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when you finally gather the confidence to look at Sam, he’s gaping at you, frozen in place.

“What do you mean,” his voice is low, every word slow and deliberate. “Kind of cursed.”

“I mean very cursed.” You mumble. “Really fucking cursed.”

“Shit.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I said you were probably fine, Dean’s gonna kill me-“

“No!” You stand up frantically, your voice almost a squeak. “Don’t tell Dean!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I tell Dean?!” Sam snaps, looking at you like you’ve gone insane. “If you’re really cursed, we need all hands, and Dean-“

“He can’t know, Sam, please.” You might start crying, every word choked in your throat. “Don’t tell him.”

“I…” Sam trials off, his face dropping into a deep frown that seems to be mostly made of worry as he says your name. “What, exactly, is the curse?”

You sigh, hugging yourself as you speak. “If I don’t resolve my deepest secret, I’ll die.”

Sam blinks. “Like, die die? Death die?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen as the situation fully sinks in, his whole body going slack as he pulls the pieces together. “Fuck.”

You hum a soft agreement. “Fuck.”

“And why can’t I tell Dean? I mean, he’ll want to help-“

“You know why.” You whisper. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck.” Sam groans. “And you’d rather die than-“

“Yes.” You lower yourself down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare ahead at nothing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I just. I can’t. I don’t-“ You taste the sting of metal as you bite through your cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I’m going to d-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound, and hear the bed shift as Sam drops at your side and pulls you into a gentle hug.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mutters your name, and you make another weak, strangled noise. “I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Over your first, weak sob, you don’t hear the door open. You only know it opens because Dean clears his throat, and your blood turns white-hot in your body, caught between embarrassment and nerves and a deep, soft and starved piece of your heart that’s trying to climb into your limbs and rip your body away from Sam’s to fly to Dean’s.

“Sammy, she-“ He cuts himself off as he sees you, and you die a little at how he says your name. Like he hates it. “You’re in here.”

You nod, keeping your face angled down, and you hear Dean shift slightly in the doorway. 

“Why are you in Sam’s room.”

There’s no good answer for that, and Sam doesn’t seem to have one either. There’s no plausible lie for why you’re on the floor on Sam’s room, why you’re sniffling, and why he’s hugging you that doesn’t sound insane. Even the truth wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.

And it hurts. When Dean just sighs and grunts that he doesn’t want to know—that you and Sam can go back to fucking braiding each other’s hair or whatever—and stomps out of the room, it’s like a knife to your gut. But you can’t tell him. Not the truth. Not any of it.

So this will only be the first knife. And you’d worry about what you would be telling him when this was over—how you could possibly explain yourself—if you had any faith you were going to get out of this. 

But you don’t. The week crawls on, and it all only gets so much worse. Vague illness starts to feel like you’re being mauled from inside, and Dean’s anger turns to bullets.

You spend most of your days in the library with Sam, combing through book after book, looking for anything about how you can fix this, and every time Dean walks in, he looks like he wants to punch someone. Like he’s disgusted by your very presence where he can see you, like you’re a spider that’s crawled into his house and he can’t even stand the sight of you. 

“I’m getting dinner.” He snaps on the third night, and when you look up from your book—Sam standing behind you, having hunched over your body to read the passage you’d been pointing to—Dean’s jaw is clenched, his fists curled at his side. “Neither of you got groceries, so I’m ordering. What do you want.”

His voice is flat. It makes your chest feel like it’s being run over by a train.

“I’ll take whatever you get.” You offer him a small smile, because you can’t help yourself, and it just makes him glare more. “But can I please have a milkshake as well?”

Dean narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“You’re going to the diner, Dean.” You shrug. “You always go to the diner.”

He grunts, something hot flashing over his face that you don’t understand. “Fine. Milkshake.”

He doesn’t bother to ask any follow-up questions. He doesn’t bother to wait for Sam to say what he wants. Dean just marches up to the garage, vanishes for an hour—the diner is ten minutes away, and you start to feel your stomach and heart twist the longer he’s gone—and returns with a slam of the door, throwing a salad at Sam and placing a burger and milkshake in front of you before stomping out of the library.

Dean got your favorite flavor. You hadn’t told him to, but he had.

It tastes like chalk. And you’ve never hated yourself more.

After that, he barely speaks to you. Just low grunts and glowers at you whenever you cross paths, his presence in the bunked suddenly scares. He’d usually sit with you and Sam while you read, cracking unhelpful jokes that make Sam roll his eyes and you giggle, but he’s just gone. Locked in the Dean Cave or the garage, shuffling around the kitchen with a sullen expression, swallowing his dinner whole and refusing to really even look at you.

It hurts more than any anger could. It’s lonely and cancerous the longer it goes on, because you’re still talking to and hanging out with Sam, but he doesn’t count. Your whole heart isn’t orbiting around Sam. The curse is completely indifferent to Sam. The curse doesn’t care when Sam grumbles or frowns at you. It cares when Dean hates you. You think it can feel that this won’t be resolved—because it won’t be, you grow more and more certain with every passing day that this is how you will die—and takes the opportunity to root deeper into your body. Every sneer or glare Dean gives you sits under your nails to claw at your skin. It covers you in sweat in the dead of night, and chokes you when you’re in the shower and the water’s burning your skin.

Sam keeps trying to convince you to just do it, just say the thing to Dean because the worst that can happen is that you’re heartbroken but alive.

“And I really don’t think it would even come to that.” He tells you from across the table at 2am, because you’re running out of time and sleep isn’t something you can even remember how to do anymore. “I mean, it’s Dean-“

“That’s the problem, Samuel.” You hiss. The curse has started to make you mean, and if you make it out alive, you’ll have to buy Sam a million bottles of hair gel to make up for what you’re putting him through. “It’s Dean. He already doesn’t like me-“

Sam frowns. “Why would you think that-“

“Because I’m a responsibility.” You’re spitting, and it tastes like venom. “I’m your kid shadow, I’m Dean’s kid shadow, I’m a burden-“

“You’re not a burden,” Sam says your name slowly. “To either of us. I mean, if what you said about Rowena is true, you saved Dean from the Mark-“

“That doesn’t count. That was just a deal I made-“

“A deal you made for Dean.” Sam’s pushing back. You wish he’d stop. “Most people in our lives wouldn’t have done that for us. And Dean doesn’t think you’re his kid shadow, by the way. I mean, I’ve only ever-“

“Sam.” Your voice is flat. A little broken. “Please don’t. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I- I just can’t-“

“But Dean-“

“Please.” You’re going to cry again. “You won’t convince me.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Well, we need to try something. I’m not just going to let you die.”

You don’t think that’s up to Sam. You don’t think it’s up to anyone anymore. You won’t tell Dean, because you’ve scanned over book after book about spell phrasing, and decided that telling Dean wouldn’t even help. You had to resolve your deepest secret. Rejection that burns your heart to ash, that clouds your lungs and makes you cower and falter won’t be resolving anything, and then you’ll just die in more pain.

You let Sam convince you to try something. More for him than for you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your hideous reflection in the mirror—your skin a little sunken, your eyes lined with red, your lips raw from being chewed until they bled—and start speaking a whisper, because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice.

“I love Dean Winchester.” You tell yourself, as if you’re not so deeply aware of how your love is tattooed onto your every breath and heartbeat. “I love him. I am going to die, and I love him, and I am very-“ You choke slightly, your eyes stinging as the world blurs. “I am very, very sorry. Not for loving him, but for forcing him to be loved by me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to stop loving him. I’m sorry I’m leaving him. But I am not sorry for loving him. I… I spent a lifetime surrounded by cruel animals who called themselves angels, and he’s the only person I’ve ever- I could believe- I just-“ You drop your head, turning up the faucet to drown out every weak sob and apology. “I love him. And he… he’s too good be obligated to love me. So I think I’ll just…”

You trail off, and crumble onto the tile floor. When you dry your tears and yank yourself back together, Sam’s waiting for you a little down the hall. You shake your head, his shoulders slump, and that’s it. For Sam it’s not—he turns around and marches right back to the library—but for you, it is. You’re done. 

You’ll hole up in your room and die alone. Like how’d you’d been meant to all along, lent only a little bit of extra time by Dean saving you to begin with.

And that time had run out. So you’ll just go die alone.

lay flat on your bed as your vision starts to dance with spots, and spend your time trying to image what a heaven you’re not allowed into will look like. Cas has told you every person gets their own, but you don’t really want that. It sounds like more of your life, and it’s pointless to worry about because you’re headed nowhere but down, but you’d still rather spend eternity with someone.

One person. You’d like to spend eternity with one person. 

The same person who had somehow gotten into your locked room, and is snapping your name as he stands at the foot of your bed. You’d be angrier he’d just barged in if you could remember how to be anything but in pain. You’d snap back if your mouth knew how to be anything but numb. 

“Dean-“

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dean hisses, and you close your eyes, the light suddenly painfully bright. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and he scoffs. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean, I just don’t feel well.”

“That’s fucking bullshit-“

You sigh. “It’s not. I’m sick.” 

There’s a moment of silence, then, “how sick.”

“Fever.” You mumble. “Stomach bug. Maybe the flu. You should probably leave-“

“No,” he grunts, and you hear his steps. He’s coming closer, and your skin might be boiling off your body. “I’m not leaving you-“

“It’s not leaving if I ask you to go.” You mumble, and you can feel the heat of his body off to the side, can hear his breathing—maybe even his heartbeat—and it’s making everything worse-

“I’m not going.”

“Dean, just, please-“

“No, I’m sick of you fucking ignoring me, and I- I don’t even care what’s going on with you and Sam-“

You frown. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sam-“

“I have eyes,” Dean sneers your name, and there’s a tone in his voice that’s almost wounded. “You were hugging in his room, you’re always fucking whispering and hanging out-“

“That’s not-“ You swallow, dragging your eyes open to find him glaring down at you. He looks wounded too. “It’s for a case.”

“What case? A case that I’m not allowed to know about? Because that’s not a case, sweetheart, that’s a secret-“

You almost throw up, just from that word. “It’s- I’m not keep any secrets, Dean, just please go-“

“No!” He’s almost shouting, and the sound is like a cannon into your gut. “I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re suddenly putting yourself in danger, and stuck to my brother, and you’re not talking to me anymore-“

“You’re not talking to me, Dean.” You whisper, his gaze burning you right down to the cavity of your chest. “I’m always in the library-“

“Yeah, I know, with Sam.” Dean scowls, and you’re too tired to think almost anything, but that’s strange. Dean never says Sam like that. Like it’s a horrible word. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, watching Dean carefully. “He’s helping me with something-“

“Something I can’t help you with?”

You blink, ready to lie and say no, but your mush of a brain doesn’t appear to be up to that task. “No.”

Dean’s brow furrows slightly. “So I could help you.”

“I-“ You feel a stab in your intestine, and your voice grows hoarse. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why-“

“Because I- Just go away, Dean-“

He shakes his head, saying your name in a stern, unwavering voice. “Could I help you-“

“N-“ You swallow a groan as your lungs contract, and this is dangerous. You’re too far gone to lie anymore, and that’s the only chance you have. If Dean keeps poking at you, you’ll tell the truth. You can’t tell the truth. “Please just leave me alone-“

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He snaps, dropping onto the side of your bed to prove his point. “You never left me alone, with the Mark-“

“That’s not-“ You can’t swallow your next sound of pain, or the whine that leaves your throat when Dean’s hand grabs your thigh. “Dean, please go-“

“Do you want me to go.”

“No.” You say it before you can think, and hate that the pain over your muscles lessens when Dean stays, and when his hand starts to rub slow circles. “But you- you have to-“

“I said I’m staying.” He grunts. “And you’re not changing my mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“I did.” You whisper, closing your eyes again. Looking at his handsome, annoyingly determined face isn’t helping anyone. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. What’s making you sick.”

“Curse.”

Fuck.

Dean’s silent for a long moment, then-

“What the fuck do you mean, curse.”

“Me.” You mumble. “Curse on me.”

“And how did a curse get on you-“

“Rowena.”

“That fucking bitch.” He mutters, and you feel his grip on you tighten slightly. Almost protectively. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me-“

That was probably a rhetorical question. Your sudden truth-telling streak doesn’t seem to care at all. “I was worried you’d hate me.”

“I- what?”

“I was worried-“

“I heard you,” he grunts. “I just, why the hell would you ever think I’d hate you-“

“Because I suck.” You whisper. “And I can’t- I don’t deserve you.”

Dean’s silent again. You wish he’d stop doing that. “You think you don’t deserve me?”

You nod, barely a movement at all, and Dean groans. You’re still not strong enough to look at him.

“Sweetheart, you- I’m not-“ He cuts himself off, his hand resuming his circles, you’re not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. Got it?”

You hum. Like you’d even have a choice.

“What will cure the curse.”

“I need to,” you try to fight down the words, but you’re light-headed and faint and Dean’s hand is really warm, so you fail. “I need to resolve my deepest secret.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “What’s your deepest secret?”

You’re going to bite off your tongue. And when Dean says your name again, his voice a little rougher, it drags your eyes open to stare at him. Watching you with a focus you can feel in your bones, that’s prying the truth out of you, and he’s just looking at you and you can’t do this-

“Dean, I-“ You digs your nails into your skin, something flashes in his eyes, and you can’t look away. But you can’t stop yourself either, and if you have to watch Dean’s disgust, that might kill you right here. “Please turn around.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to turn around.” You whisper. “Please.”

He nods slowly, twisting away from you, and it’s like a green light to your stupid, traitorous mouth. The words fall out of you like vomit, and if this is the end, at least it might be fast. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, and I don’t want to stop, and I love you. Only you. Just you. Can’t remember how to love anyone else, because I love you. I love your jokes and your grumpiness and how protective you are because you make me feel safe, and I love that you’re kind of a dork and a loser but you’re also so hot, I love your voice and your face and your hands, and I and I want you in a, um-“ You squeeze your thighs together, staring at the suddenly rapid rise and fall of Dean’s back. “A way that I shouldn’t talk about-“

“How do you want me.” He grunts, his voice low and a little gruff, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“On me.” You whisper. “In me. I want you on my face and in my hands and fuck, I want your inside of me. But I also want to wake up next to you and hold your hand and fall asleep in your lap, and fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a whine as something sharp hits your right in the heart, and Dean’s silent. He’s not turning around, or leaving, or doing anything but sitting and breathing for so long, for too long-

“You-“ He shakes his head slightly, and you could swear he’s leaning slightly backward. “You want me.”

“Yeah, I- yes.”

“You love me.”

“Yes.” Too late to go back now. “I love you, Dean.”

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounds broken. He sounds sad.

You’re so confused. It’s almost enough to distract from the pain racking your whole body.

“I- I didn’t think you’d-“ Not care. Dean couldn’t not care. He cares too much. “I wasn’t sure what-“

“What I’d say?”

“What you’d do.”

“What would you-“ He’s definitely leaning back. He’s closer, too. “What would you want me to do?”

“What would I want?” 

Dean nods.

“I- it doesn’t matter-“

“Yes it-“ He sighs, twisting around to face you. You can’t read the expression on his face. It’s lost and it’s afraid and it’s… hopeful. There’s this small light that’s so deep in his eyes that seems like real, true hope. “Please,” he mutters your name, and you might be melting. “Just, entertain me. What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want to tell me you love me.” You whisper, and if this curse is going to kill you, you hope it does it now, right before you lose all your dignity forever. “Like I love you.”

Dean shakes his head slightly, and your heart might be splitting in half. “But I- I tried to kill you-“

“The demon tried to kill me. That wasn’t really you-“

“Yes, it was-“

“No.” Your voice gains a little strength, and you push up on your elbows. “You saved me, Dean. You rescued me from the angels-“

“Anyone would’ve done that-“

“But they didn’t.” You snap. “You did. And I don’t love anyone, I love you.”

“That’s-“ He groans, his voice growing hoarse. “You- why?”

“What do you mean, why-“

“Why would you love me? I mean, unless this is some sick, fucked up prank-“

“It’s not a prank-“

“Well why?” He shouts your name, and he looks distressed. Like this is shredding him apart. “Why the hell would you love me-“

“Because I like loving you.” You grab his hand, his own panic starting to set into your own body, making this all the worse. “It feels right. And I- I know you don’t love me-“

You’re not sure what’s happening. Dean’s hands are cupping your face, and his mouth is on yours, and he tastes like whiskey and coffee and pecan, and you feel okay. You really feel okay. All the pain and sickness is dissolving from your body, and Dean is kissing you. Kissing you with an unforgiving, demanding desperation, his tongue down your throat and his body lowering down over yours, pinning you to the bed as he groans against your lips.

The sound jumpstarts something in you. Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck right before he can pull away or hesitate, and you throw everything he’s silently offering you back to him. Biting on his lower lip and wrapping your legs around his torso, grinding up into him as he makes a deep, satisfied noise and moves one hand to wrap around you waist, holding you steady against him as he rises up, moving you to stay in his lap.

“You’re, shit.” Dean lets out a low chuckle, pressing a small, gentler kiss to the tip of your nose as you breathe in ragged time. “You’re such a fucking idiot, sweetheart.”

You lean back to frown at him. “No I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. But I am too.” He sighs, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and speaking against your skin. “Seems like we’re made for each other, huh.”

“Dean, I-“

“Wait, just-“ Dean kisses up the column of your throat, ending right behind your ear, and his voice a low sound that falls right down into your core. “Gimme a second.”

“Dean-“

“Please,” he mutters, and when you pull back he looks nervous. It’s strange, but adorable, and you nod. He needs a second, you’ll give him a million. Anything to keep him here a little longer, to keep the ebb of the sickness going. 

“Okay.” You whisper, and—taking the biggest gamble of your life—lean forward to kiss him again. Just a light, almost innocent press of your lips to his. He tenses, his arms around you tightening, and you’d have panicked if it didn’t seem like he was clinging to you. Like he was afraid you were going to vanish. 

“I- uh,” Dean says your name slowly, and it’s odd. You’ve heard him say it exactly like that a million, but this feels deeper. Like a prayer. “I lo-“ He cuts himself off, his brow drawing tightly together, and you can feel your heart in your throat. Set to either explode or move into Dean as you hold your breath. “You. I- you- it’s- fuck.” He scowls, and you offer him your gentler smile, running a hand over the soft stubble on his jaw, even as you feel your blood start to go cold again.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“Yeah. I do, I-“ He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and speaking against them as if he’s trying to tell your body more than your mind. “I love you. A lot. So stop being cursed.”

You stare at him, your voice barely a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Did it work?”

It did. The curse seemed to vanish the moment Dean kissed you—like it knew that what he was trying to tell you before he even said it—but now the world is just color and light and Dean. It’s enchanting. He’s enchanting. He’s all genuine and powerful focus on you, and. worry that makes you feel warm, and love you can suddenly see everywhere on him. You don’t know how you missed it before, because it’s in his eyes and coating his lips and in every flex of his body around you. It would knock you down if he wasn’t holding you. 

“Yeah.” You smile at Dean, and his own mouth tugs up slightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Any time. I, uh, sorry about getting pissed about you and Sam.“

“It’s fine, I-“ You paused, frowning at him. “Were you jealous?”

He scowls, his cheeks turning a little red. “Obviously.”

“Of Sam-“

“You were really close with him all the time.” Dean snaps. “And I- you seemed pissed at me, and super stressed, and usually you’d come to me for that stuff, but you were hugging Sam and talking to him instead of me-“

“Because I don’t love Sam. I love you, that’s why I told you-”

“I didn’t fucking know that.” He grumbles. “I- Sam doesn’t know everything about how I feel about you, but he knew enough, and I- I thought you were choosing him- And I- You’re not my girl but you felt like my girl and I didn’t-“

“Your girl?” Your face splits into a wide smile, and some of the tension seems to leave Dean as he nods. 

“Yeah. If you want.”

“Yes.” You squeak, and Dean’s hand starts to run slowly down your thigh. “Yes, please.”

“You sure?” He raises his brows, and it’s really hard to think when he’s so close, and this is suddenly overwhelmingly real. He’s really broad and warm against you, and he’s really touching you, and he said the thing but that doesn’t mean-

“Yeah, but are, are you sure-“

“Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He drawls, and you swallow as he leans in closer, his nose bumping yours. “And I’d be very happy to prove that.”

“Prove it?” You whisper, your eyes trapped onto his glimmering, darkened ones. “I, um, that, how-“

“However you’d like,” he says your name with a smirk, and it’s amazing how any all insecurity he had only a minute ago seems to have vanished. “You wanna tell me how’d you want me to prove it? Or do you need some suggestions?”

You might be drooling. “Suggestions, please.”

Dean hums, holding you carefully as he rises on his knees, bends you down onto the mattress, and starts to trace slow, taunting hands over your body.

“We could start slow,” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shorts, broad fingers brushing over your skin. “I could take my time with you, sweetheart. Do the proper thing, take you out to dinner and movie, wait until the third date to give you everything-“

“No!” You yelp. “Not slow-“

Dean’s hand slides under your shorts, his palm resting right over your already sore pussy, and he chuckles at your high gasp. 

“Alright, baby, not slow.” He leans down to pull you into a long, slow kiss, smirking against your lips as you start to grind into his hand. “But we’re going on a date. I’ve had years to plan it, wouldn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

You nod a little stupidly, your nails digging into his arm braced near your head. “How- what do you mean years-“

“You’re not the only one who had that at first sight thing.” Dean mutters, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve lost sleep over you, baby girl. We’re going to do this right, no witches involved, but,” he drops his head to kiss right behind your ear, humming as a high moan escapes your lips. “I’ve got a million things I want to do you, and fuck me if I’m going waste time not doing them.”

“Yeah, good, do that-“ You gasp as Dean’s thumb finds your clothed clit, starting to draw firm, fast circles around it. “Shit, Dean-“

“That’s my name.” He growls in your ear, flicking against you and smirking at your high whine. “C’mon, sweetheart gotta get you ready for me-“

“I, I’m ready-“

He chuckles. “No, you’re not. Wanna make you feel good, not break you.”

“What if, fuck-“ You feel a brief, sharp moment of cold air as Dean pulls your shorts and panties down, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s studying your every hitched breath and blurred gaze, smirking as he begins to slowly move inside of you, scissoring and crooking and pushing in deeper every time-

“What if what, pretty girl?” He teases, his pace increasing slightly. “Use your words.”

Your back arches off the bed as Dean re-angles his hand, pressing his palm to your clit and starting to rub strong, sharp circles as his fingers reach a blissful, almost painfully good pace, but remain too shallow to hit that sensitive spot deep your cunt and send you over the edge. “What if I want you to break me?” You gasp, your arm wrapping around his neck as he groans, dropping his brow against yours. “Please, Dean-“

“You, fuck-“ He grunts your name, and you feel something prodding at your inner thigh. “Not now, baby, need to be gentle-“

“No you don’t-“

“Yeah, I do.” Dean’s movements still as he rises on his knees over you, and you’re pretty certain the authoritative thing is supposed to be stern and intimidating, but it’s mostly just making you grind on his hand and reach up for him pathetically.

“Dean-“

“Listen to me.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress, sighing as you moan again, squeezing around his fingers, still in your cunt. “Fuck, you nearly just died-“

“I’m okay now.” You whisper. “I feel great. I feel, fuck Dean, I feel so good-“

He hisses as you spread your legs, writhing on the bed for anything, at this point you’ll take anything Dean offers you-

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He mutters, his fingers starting to pump slowly again, scanning over your body with an almost awestruck expression. “Bet you feel like heaven, baby girl, but we need to go slow. I promise I can wreck you later, but today-“

“Slow.” You sigh, and he nods.

“Slow. But,” Dean’s free hand starts to trail under your shirt, palming at your breasts, rolling your nipples between calloused, strong fingers. “Doesn’t mean we can’t take care of you, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy, still going to get you fucking cockdrunk. Okay?”

You nod, your eyes slightly glazed over, and Dean bends his fingers deep inside you, right one that spot, letting out a low gasp as you whine.

“Say okay, sweetheart.” He grunts, his hand moving from your breast, over your neck, to your mouth, pressing his thumb on your lower lip until it parts. You moan against him, your eyes fluttering slightly, and you’re already too high, too needy, to do anything but listen.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He coos, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips, his nostrils flaring when you start to suck on him with an abandon. “Fuck, so good, I can’t wait to ruin you, baby, you’re never gonna even think about another cock-“

You haven’t thought about another cock in years, and you haven’t even seen it yet. But Dean’s thumb is bumping the back of your throat, so all you can do is moan, give him your best pleading look, and let your head fall back as Dean’s fingers finally move inside of you, pushing and playing on the spot until your orgasm washes over you in bright waves of good. So good. Just, fuck, he’s good-

Dean’s thumb pulls out of your mouth with a pop, and he wipes a little bit of spit off on your upper lip before lowering his mouth to yours, this kiss far too soft and gentle for how you think you might die if he doesn’t fuck you now.

“Look so pretty, cumming on my hand.” Dean moves to the shell of your ear, his growling promise sending a shiver up your spine. “Bet you’ll look prettier fucking squeezing my cock.”

You barely have time to whimper when Dean yanks his fingers out of your cunt, rolls you over so you’re straddling his torso, and raises you up by your hips before pushing you right down onto his dick. You don’t even remember when he took off his pants, or where your shirt went, but those are worries for someone who isn’t being split open on Dean’s cock. Who doesn’t have him drawing small circles on their inner thigh, or isn’t being held up by his hand on their waist.

But you do. You have Dean everywhere, real and warm under your hands as you grip his shoulders, bumping deep against your cervix as he lets you adjust to the size of him, one broad finger reaching down to press—light and taunting—on your clit, and groaning as you squeeze around him.

“Shit,” Dean grunts your name, looking up at you under hooded eyes in a way you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you before. As if you’re somewhere they’d always expected to be, and they’re still in awe that you’re there. “Gotta be careful, want this to-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you grind on him experientially, clenching again as he hits that electric spot deep inside you. He grabs you firm by your hips, stilling your every movement as he gives you a stern glower. 

“You need to listen.” His voice is gravely and lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you’d do whatever he told you to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t whine and scratch lightly at his chest. 

“Dean, move-“

“You gonna listen?”

“Yes, just, fuck-“ You gasp as he pulls you up with barely a grunt, slamming your right back down with a roll of your hips. 

“Want you to feel good, baby girl, but you need to be careful,” Dean drags one had down to squeeze your ass, his hand still on your waist drawing light circles around your clit. “Or next time might be more than wrecking.”

Your moan is vulgar and shameless, and you’re more than ready to devote sleep to figuring out what more than wrecking will look like, but right now you just fucking need this. 

“Need more, Dean,” you whisper. “Need it so bad-“

“I know, sweetheart.” He mutters, trailing his hand up your stomach to squeeze your breast, groaning when you squirm around him. “Think you’re ready to ride this cock? Think you can handle, shit-“

You’d stared to move the movement he’d said ride, rolling your body and arching your back, dragging every bit of confidence you have to grind down onto Dean’s cock, your nails sinking into his abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean’s voice is a breath under you, and when you scan over him, he lookslike he’sa little wrecked himself.His eyes on yours are hooded and low, his voice dripping with that same dominating confidence, but something more delicate in the way he’s touching you. Not as if he’s afraid to break you, but afraid you’ll shatter him. 

And you did that. You wrecked Dean. And that lights a wildfire in your gut, running through your nerves until they’re sensitive and bare, and into your brain until it’s all just Dean.

You start to move. Slowly at first to test the waters, but—when Dean just groans and ruts up into you—quickly picking up pace until you’re bouncing on Dean’s cock, your thighs squeezing his torso and your clit rubbing on his abdomen, his ever grunt and hiss and bruising grip just making your need grow bigger as you slam him onto that deep spot-

“Shit, I’m- Slow down-“ 

Dean’s hiss is low, and you immediately obey, changing to long, slow movements as Dean hums. 

“There you go baby, such a good girl.” His hand moves from your ass to your lower back, rubbing soothing patterns as he praises you. “You’re so hot baby, fucking ruined on my cock-“

You make a high, breathless sound you don’t recognize, moving your hips in a circle to try and chase more friction, and Dean chuckles.

“You alright up there-“

“Good,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut to try and focus your all on Dean beneath you. “So good, Dean, feels so good-“

“Need a little more?”

“Yes-“

“More descriptive than that, sweet girl.” He teases, and when this is done, you’re going to kill him. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to-“

“You,” the word falls out without thought, because most of you belongs to Dean. “Just you, only need you-“

“You love me?” Dean’s voice is low, and when you open your eyes to look at him, there’s a small chink in his armor. You don’t know if you pried it open, or if you’ve just never noticed, but you can see right into him, and he still doesn’t really believe that you love him.

And that’s the only thing you’ve ever really know. You loving Dean has been the only truly certain thing in your life, because Dean’s a given and loving him feels like breathing.

So you smile at him, reaching forward to cup his face, and tell him with everything you have, hoping he can hear how the words are in time with your heart.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I’m yours.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head slightly even as his dick twitches inside you. “You don’t need to be, it’s- you know, dirty talk-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I’m still yours.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, and you know you’re not getting control back from him for the rest of the night.

You’re fine with that. Dean starts to rock you back and forth around him, letting you just fall into and around him, and your lost to any world that isn’t Dean. Isn’t his hand splayed on your lower back or his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and ass. Anything that isn’t his cock hitting part of you that you didn’t know existed and filling you up so much you’re not sure how you’re ever going to manage being empty again.

You don’t think you will have to manage. Dean’s holding you like he’s trying to brand himself on your body, like he needs you feel him for the rest of your life. And you will. You’ll feel the bliss Dean’s drawing from your body that’s better than any heaven you could have imagined, rising slowing below the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

You’ll hear him too. Hear every deep noise of his own pleasure, hear the slapping of his skin on yours, hear his low praise echo around your head and ribs for the rest of your life.

“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and rolling right into your pussy, making you throw your head back with a breathy whimper. “Fuck, you’re so hot riding me, feel so good around me, tight and warm-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you reach behind your body, your hand finding his balls to squeeze lightly. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart-“ He groans, jerking slightly inside of you. “Fuck, keep doing that, so fucking needy for me, fucking soaking this cock-“

You grind around him, and his pace starts to lose rhythm. Even after he swats your hand away you know he’s lost his own self-control, and fuck he looks hot without it. Starting to rut up into you in uncontrolled movements, pulling you to pieces with a lustful, ardorous gaze and brutal pace and strong hands, moving back to your clit and rolling it between his fingers-

Your mouth falls open in a silent, needy cry of pleasure as your orgasm bursts over you. It’s not sudden, but you couldn’t never anticipated the power of it—like someone had doused you in gasoline that smells like whiskey and fruit, lit a match, and turned to into a star—or how it rides on and on, never seeming to crest or crash as Dean slams home inside of you, warmth coating your pussy and running down your thighs as he moans your name. 

Dean helps you float down to earth, leaving careful, deliberate touches on your skin and humming as his knees rising up to support you. You watch his gaze rakes down your body, lingering on where he can see himself spill out of your pussy, and moves to slowly drag through the mess, gathering some on two fingers before rising them up to your mouth. You open without hesitation and his throat bobs, his cock twitching inside you as you lick his release off his hand, your eyes never leaving his wide, reverent one.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You stole my line.”

“Nah.” He shrugs, tracing a hand over your cheek. “You could have anyone you want, baby, but you’re here, with an asshole like me-“

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.” He shrugs, like you can’t see how his own words pierce him through that chink. “Shit, I just accused you of sleeping with Sam-“

“And I’ve been lying to you for years.” You lean down, resting your chin on his chest, giving him your widest smile. “Neither of us are saints, Dean. And I happen to be the right kind of fucked up to let possessiveness hot.” You pause, giving him your best stern glare. “To a degree. I will slap you the next time you accuse me of fucking Sam.” 

Dean laughs, his around wrapped—gentle and relaxed—around you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You hum, resting your head to the side, and you might be here for a hundred years. Time blurs and slows until it’s just Dean’s heartbeat near your ear, his thumb tracing a pattern on your arm, and his face buried in your hair. The end of the world might have already come to pass when his hand moves to your chin and he angles your gaze to his, and you wouldn’t really care. You’re still where you need to be.

“Would you,” he lets out a slow breath, all his cocky arrogance gone, his eyes on yours nervous. The hope is back, but it’s wrapped in soft fear. “I’m not good at- shit-“

He’s going to hurt himself, and you take pity on him. You lean does to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue trail over his lips, and rising back up with a small smile.

“Can we go on a date, Dean?” 

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Your smile strains at your cheeks, because you only want Dean. 

And you’ll have to write Rowena a thank you note, because you finally have him.

End Note: Me make a story with no prior lore challenge: impossible

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007

[raven-dor]

sweet nothing

In which james potter makes sure his friend isn't late for class

PAIRINGS: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

WARNINGS: given last name, fluff, flirting, crushing, OBLIVIOUS READER

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

🎶 : sweet nothing - taylor swift

AN: i just love marauders fics where they're happy and nothing is wrong and they are just living their lives

The halls of Hogwarts were buzzing, Pandora, Regulus, and Y/N contributing heavily to that sound. The blonde girl had said she’d discovered nargles, which caused Regulus and her to get into a heated discussion about the topic. Y/N watched helplessly, laughing at how animated Regulus was with his hands when he talked. A hand swung over her shoulder, rectangle glasses coming into view. 

She shrugged him off, glaring playfully. “What do you need, Potter?” 

James scoffed. “Can’t a man say hello to his favorite Ravenclaw without being reprimanded?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Not when I’m in the middle of a conversation.” 

“Were you? Because it looked like you weren’t doing much talking.” 

Regulus cleared his throat. “Actually, Pandora and I were just leaving. We need to inspect the… the nargles.” He smirked. “Have fun.”  

“Reg!” She turned to Pandora, pleading. “Please, don’t leave me here! You know how annoying he gets when left unsupervised.” 

She giggled airly, walking away. “Have fun, Y/N/N.” 

She turned to James, smiling lightly. “How are you, James?” 

“Just fine, love.” She tried to ignore how her heart clenched at the nickname. He nudged her arm. “And you?”

“Fine.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Fine? Just fine?”

She nodded, staring at the ground. “Y/N, come on.” He slipped his pinky around hers as they walked. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She could never keep a secret from him for long. If she wanted to become an Auror, she really had to work on her resolve. “It was-” She shivered. “Horrible. My parents cornered me, practically threatened me into getting the dark mark.”

He stopped, his grip on her pinkie stopping her as well. He grabbed her hand, tracing over the freckles on the back. “And did you?” 

“Rowena, no.” She scoffed. “Do you really think I’d do that?” 

He shook his head. “Just asking, lovie.”

She sighed, pulling him along through the corridor. James put his arm over her shoulders once more, and this time, she didn’t shrug him off. His voice had a joking tone to it, but she knew he was being serious. “If you ever need a place to stay, my parents would be more than happy to have you.” 

“James, I’ll be fine, really.” 

“Only if you’re sure, love.” 

She blushed, mumbling. “Don’t call me that.” 

He gasped, putting his hand over his heart. “Why not?” 

“You know why. You like Lily. So in the future, direct the endeering nicknames towards her. If you keep flirting with everything you see, Potter, she’ll never give you a chance.” 

His cheeks were pink, and he scoffed. “For your information, I actually like someone else. In fact-” 

“I enjoy a good deer pun as much as the next person, but are you two going to sit and eat lunch? You’re blocking the sun.”

She laughed, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair. The Gryffindor gasped, immediately shoving her away to fix his hair. “Don’t harm the merchandise, love.” 

James mumbled, glaring at his friend. “Oh, so he can call you love, but I can’t.” 

Y/N chose to ignore him. “Sorry Siri. I couldn’t resist.” She sat down, placing a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on her place. “And I would never miss lunch. It’s the most important meal of the day.” 

Remus smirked, tilting his head. “I think you’re thinking of breakfast, Y/N/N.”

She glared at her friend. “I am shocked you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, Remus.”

He laughed. “I’m shocked you were.” 

“Remus John Lupin!” Her jaw dropped. “What a rude thing to say.” 

“You’ll be fine.” 

Peter giggled, shaking his head. “You’ve always been the funniest person I know, Y/N.” 

She bowed, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “Well thank you, Pete.” She looked at the other three, who could not care less. “Take notes. That is how friends treat friends.” 

James scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I treat you like a princess.” 

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “When you're not tormenting my peace, yes, you are.” 

Sirius looked over at Peter, highly offended. “I’m not forgetting you said that Pete. You know I’m funnier than her.” 

Peter nodded, smirking. "Sure you are, Sirius."

"I'll have you know-"

"Boys, boys." Y/N put her hands up. "No fighting at the dinner table."

"It's actually lu-"

"Remus, again with the know-it-all card."

He raised his eyebrows. "Now, who's fighting at the dinner table?"

Free period was Sirius and James’s favorite part of the day. 

It was not Remus, Y/N, and Peter’s favorite part of the day. 

Because every day like clockwork, the pair begged them to watch their impromptu Quidditch practice. Peter luckily got out of this one, mumbling something about tutoring and scurrying away before he could elaborate. Remus and Y/N walked down to the pitch, holding their coats close to their bodies as they talked about their latest read.

“I don’t know Y/N/N, Jane Eyre seems to forget that she is the heroine in this story. Staying with that psycho who kept his wife in his attic? Not her wisest choice.” 

“I think you’re missing the main point, Remus. She’s finally doing something that no woman in her time had the fortune to do. Decide her own destiny. I agree, I think that particular choice was not the smartest, but she becomes the heroine of her own story anyway because she chose to stay. It’s a rare trope in that era of literature.”

James and Sirius stared at them from the sky, both of their stomachs queasy for the same reason. James turned to his best friend, whispering. “Do you think they’re… together?” 

Sirius spluttered, scoffing. “I mean, he can’t- he- she- they definitely-” 

James rolled his eyes. “Relax, Pads. Moony isn’t going anywhere. You still have a chance.” 

His friends cheeks grew pink, but he said nothing. James smiled, nudging him lightly. “You know I’m actually very proud of you, Padfoot. I know how difficult it is for you to accept that you like someone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Prongs. I’m just shocked at the idea of them.” He nodded, but his voice didn’t sound as sure. “That’s all.” 

The practice ended quickly, and Remus left Y/N in the stands. He knew she liked to soak up the crisp, fresh air before sitting class for two hours.

“I am so surprised to see you here.” 

She opened her eyes, holding a hand above her to block the sun. 

“James. Great job out there. You continue to impress me.” 

He smiled, bowing. “Thank you. What are you doing after this?” 

“Transfiguration, James. With you.” She raised her eyebrows. “The same as every other Thursday.” 

“Can you blame me for trying to block it out of my memory?” He laughed. “Besides, I don’t need to take Transfiguration, I’ve already mastered that art.” 

She hummed, laying back down on the stands. He smiled, she looked rather peaceful like that. “Then you should be fine, sitting there for two hours. It isn’t that difficult, anyway.”

James scoffed. “Of course you would say that. Some people have to try, you know.” 

“Well not me and you. Don’t stress about it.” She sat up, huffing. “Suppose it’s time to walk over. I’ll see you in a bit James.” 

Y/N hadn’t even gotten two steps before a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “What if I told you I have an idea?” 

She squinted, whenever James had an idea it either ended in a prank or detention. No one could blame her for being hesitant. “And what is this so called plan?” 

He grinned. “Fancy flying?” 

“You cannot be serious right now James.” 

He smirked. “You’re right. I’m not Sir-” 

“Shut it.” She raised her finger to his lips. “McGonagall would have our heads.” 

“Nonsense. Minnie loves me. And if you don’t want to be late, you should take me up on my offer.” He held his hand out. “Don’t you trust me?” 

She sighed. Once again, her resolved crumbled thanks to James Fleamont Potter. “You know I do.” 

“Then get on.” She jumped up, gripping his waist as tight as she could. His voiced shook his chest. “Hang on, love.” 

She screamed, nuzzling her face into his back instantly. James laugh echoed through the grounds, and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. It was contagious, his laughter. What felt like seconds later, their feet touched the ground, her hold as strong as ever. “You can let go now, Y/N/N.” 

She shook her head, rather comfortable in this position. “One more second.” 

“You’re shameless.” He whispered. 

She nodded, releasing her hold. “I’m ready now.” James grabbed her hand, racing towards McGonagall’s classroom. “Merlin, James slow down!” 

“Can’t have our resident genius late to class. It’s a bad look Y/N/N!” 

She laughed, panting. “I’m not our resident genius James!” 

They whipped around the corner, throwing the doors open. McGonagall stood at the head of the room, her eyebrows raised. Giggles echoed through the class, the Marauders audibly laughing. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Mr. Potter. Ms. Baudelaire. How kind of you to join us. What exactly were you doing before you intrusion?” 

Y/N turned bright red, stuttering. “Professor, I am so sorry, I-” 

“It was my fault Minnie. I was running through the halls and bumped into Baudelaire. She took a nasty fall so I offered to walk with her to make sure she was alright.” He looked over at Y/N his eyes wide, practically screaming ‘go along with it.’ “Just plain, old fashioned chivalry.” 

Y/N fought a giggle back down her throat. “Exactly. Chivalry.” 

Sirius laughed, before quickly getting smacked over the head by Remus. McGonagall nodded, turning back to the chalkboard. “In the future, Mr. Potter, watch where you’re running.” 

He nodded. “Of course, Minnie.” 

Y/N looked down, realizing they were still holding hands. James grinned, pulling her over to their desk. He leaned over, whispering in her ear. “I told you we’d be fine.” 

She blushed, pushing him away. “Minnie really does love you.”

[river13245]

They React To You Being Asexual

Dean, Sam, Castiel, Crowley, Rowena, Lucifer

(this is going to be a thing that I do regularly so request)

Dean Winchester

The both of you have been dating for almost a month now. You weren't oblivious to the fact that Dean was a very touchy guy. He would go to bars and pick up women all the time before you came around. Maybe that's why you had a pit in your stomach. You go to dean who was in the main room of the bunker and ask dean if you could talk to him in private.

He gets up and walks into your guys's room. "what's going on. Something happen?" he asks and you shake your head. "no not yet. Uh I just thought I should tell you something" He sits down on the bed and looks at you. :alright what's going on?" you take a deep breath in and speak all in one breath "Im asexual. I know that you like sex which is not a fault but I just know i'm not going to be able to give that to you"

He asks you to explain it to him and when you do he nods and its quiet for a moment before he speaks. "babe this isn't going to change anything between us. You don't want sex. that's fine i can take care of myself if i need to. Don't feel bad" when you sit beside him hs places his hand on your thigh and you rest your head on his shoulder.

Sam winchester

Your boyfriend was sitting on the bed reading when you entered the room. He looked so nice in the sweatshirt and sweatpants he was wearing. You were taking a moment to think about how you wanted to tell him that you were asexual.

Sam had never once made you feel as if you had to do anything you didn't want to do. If anything he was always cautious for first moves. your first kiss he leaned in slowly, making you close the gap. He also never really asked or initiated for the both of you to go any further beyond just kissing and cuddling. You had a feeling he knew which made you less nervous. "whets going on in that head of yours" he asks as he looks over at you.

You sit onto the bed beside him. "there's something I need to tell you" he puts his book down to give you his full attention before nodding. You take a breath before saying calmly "i'm asexual. I don't ever want to have sex with you. I should have told you sooner and i'm so sorry I didnt i was just waiting for the right time an-" You stop speaking because sam has placed both of his hands on the sides of your face and kisses your lips. "its okay honey, I have had a feeling that you might be and I still love you either way. Plus i have a lower sex drive than most people so you dont have to worry with me okay?" You nod and you cuddle up against him as he reads a little while longer.

Castiel

You were sitting on your bed just thinking about how you were to tell your boyfriend that you were asexual. Your boyfriend had never really said anything about wanting sex or anything like that but it still made you nervous. You knew Castiel wouldn't break up with you because of it. So once you calmed yourself down a bit you prayed for him. "castiel I need to speak with you"

Wasnt even 2 minutes later and hes standing in front of you. "Theres something on your mind?" he asks and you nod. "yes there is. I just needed to tell you that if we are going to continue our relationship..there will be no sexual acts. Kissing and everything is fine but just not sex."

He looks at you for a moment before he takes your hand in his "That is perfectly fine. Angels dont need to have sex." you lean in and kiss his cheek and hug him

Crowley

Crowley had been in one of his moods today. Your boyfriend was a very moody person. One thing could piss him off so because of this you were not looking forward to telling him about the fact that you are asexual. In fact you were thinking about not telling him. Not for a while anyways.

However when he walked into the room he could see the way you didnt come up to him to welcome him back like you always did. So he crossed his arms and looked at you. "what" you asked as you looked up at him. "What is going on? You arent acting normal" this caused you to roll your eyes at him. "when have I ever been normal" he shrugs but doesn't say anything else which makes you sigh.

You laid down onto the big bed you two shared. "Crowley I am asexual. That's why I haven't made a move to do anything more than kissing" He uncrossed his arms and lays down beside you. "really that's what's got you so weird?" nodding in response he rolls his eyes. "I'm a demon and have lived much longer than you have. You being asexual is the least of my problems. I want to be with you either way"

Rowena

Rowena was doing some of her witchy stuff looking beautiful while she focused. You knew you shouldn't interrupt her but this was eating you alive. Your friends had been talking about their partners and how they were great in bed and everything else. You loved your friends of course but its started to eat away at you. That you couldnt and wouldnt give that to Rowena.

She was a woman and many women want that part of the relationship. That kind if intimacy and you were feeling awful about it. Rowena deserved an explanation so before you could talk yourself out of it you walked up to the table and took a seat. "Rowena Love" She looked up at you and when she noticed how you looked she stopped what she was doing. "what's wrong dear"

You let out a long sigh before explaining to her about what you and your friends were talking about and then you pause for a moment before speaking again. "I know that you probably want that and I cant give it to you. How could you possibly be happy like this" She places both her hands on the sides of your cheeks and kisses your forehead then your lips. "I am happy with you. There has not been a moment where I doubted us or my feelings for you. You are the one that I want to be with for the rest of our time here" She pulls you into a soft hug

Lucifer

You had just walked back into your home and Your partner was sitting on his chair that he had claimed as like his "throne". He had been talking to a few other demons that worked for him and so you tried to walk quickly past them but he made you stop. "where do you think your going?" he wasn't angry he was just confused because you usually greet him when you come back home. You look at him "i'm going to our bedroom"

He could tell by the tone of your voice and your body language that something was wrong. So he quickly made the demons leave before turning to look back at you. "come here" you walked closer to him and he looked at you sitting up more on his chair. "what happened while you were out?" He was very protective over you and it was written all over his face. You knew he was going to find out anyways so you begin to tell him.

You tell him about how your friends were asking about how you and your boyfriend was. Asking how the sex is going etc etc. Lucifer nodded and was actually letting you finish speaking. "when I told them that. We don't have sex because i'm asexual they started judging me and everything." He almost speaks up but you cut him off "why do you stay with me. Lucifer I know that you have had many demons and even other angels in your bed before. Why stay with the one who cant give you what you need"

Lucifer looks at you as if you just said something in a language he didn't understand. He uses his power to bring you closer to him and then he stops and holds his arms out for you. Silently telling you to sit with him and so you do. You sit on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder. "I may have had others share a bed with me. But none of them have had such a emotional hold on me before. You are the one that i fell in love with. Don't ever doubt me or my feelings towards you." he says the last part with such a serious tone and all you can do is nod and let him hold you.

[monstermoviedean]

the rupture is both their faults, actually, and i'm going to yell about it now

here's the thing. the breakup scene in 15x03 once again starts on cas' terms, same as the argument in 15x02. dean has just gotten done wrapping up the ghost business by checking in with stevie, then he checks in with sam and tries to console him about losing rowena. then he goes to pour himself a drink, and that's when cas shows up and starts the conversation. i can't gauge his intention here, but his actions back dean into a corner. even if dean doesn't want to have this conversation for very good reasons, cas is going to make it happen.

consider that dean doesn't know what went down in the crypt. he has absolutely no clue what happened between cas and belphegor. cas has given him almost no detail about what happened. here's what dean knows at the start of this: cas killed belphegor, and the crook was destroyed. that's it. cas reveals during this conversation that it's because belphegor was lying, using them, and planning to suck up all the souls, which is why "the plan changed."

coupla things here. one. someone lying to dean, using him, and then sucking up a bunch of souls to get power and become a new god? yeah, dean has seen that before. that is beat-for-beat what cas did in season 6. i don't think that's lost on dean. i think he's remembering right then and there how he stuck up for cas then, how he refused to believe cas could have betrayed them when everyone else had given up on cas already. and how he was wrong. not to mention what followed.

that brings us to chuck. i cannot overstate the importance of the chuck reveal as context here. dean is questioning literally everything about his life. that includes cas. chuck pulling the strings could mean chuck is pulling cas' strings too. dean is wrong about this - he's being very paranoid and it's not good for him or anyone. but it also makes sense in context because the context is horror after horror after horror.

and that brings us to mary (and jack, and ketch, and rowena). are any of these deaths cas' fault? nope! but dean can trace all these deaths back to cas breaking the trust between them by not talking about his concerns about jack. dean feels that cas has broken the trust between them, and even though it's unfair to blame cas for this whole situation, it's perfectly fair for dean to feel betrayed on some level.

snapping at cas in the moment is not kind and not fair. under (relatively) normal circumstances, dean would quickly and sincerely apologize. but right now he's at his breaking point. and i can see why he's sick of extending trust and getting burned.

now cas' response. "you used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt." it's true! but cas isn't recognizing that his actions affect this trust. cas is not automatically entitled to dean's trust. trust is earned, and it needs to be reciprocal. cas also needs to trust dean, and dean is wondering if cas does trust him if he didn't trust him enough to tell him about jack. we know cas trusts dean, but dean doesn't necessarily know that, especially when his faith in everything is at an all-time low. but in spite of that, cas is placing the burden here on dean, blaming dean for not granting cas his trust and the benefit of the doubt. i don't think that's especially fair either.

then he brings up his powers failing - it's an odd segue because they haven't really talked about this. this has not been made clear to dean or to the audience. then it's about dean not talking to him. can this be chalked up to lingering resentments from season 14? maybe? because if cas is talking about trying to talk to dean over and over in season 15, we only have two examples. 15x01, dean asks if cas is okay and when cas answers, dean ends the conversation. dean starts this conversation so it's not a great example of cas "trying to talk about it." and then 15x02, where cas corners dean and starts talking - just like this conversation in 15x03.

i'm not saying that if someone talks to dean when he doesn't want to have a talk, that all bets are off and dean can do whatever he wants. nope, not at all. but it's been a pattern for the last few seasons at least that dean avoids a conversation he's not able to handle -> someone else decides they need to have the conversation -> they force dean into it -> dean either walks away, beginning this cycle over, or he expresses upset, which makes him look like the bad guy.

"you don't want to hear it" may be fair. but "you don't care" is absolutely not fair. the problem is that dean cares too much and it's choking him. he's lost almost everyone. he is not able to bear it. he's retreating because he can't bear it, and then cas is accusing him of not caring at all at the first sign of dean not bending over backwards to care for cas. (as stated above, he is actively caring for sam, and everyone else he usually would care for is dead. so this is about cas)

finally, cas leaves when dean doesn't immediately apologize and talk to him and say he trusts and believes in him. cas turns and walks away. he has every right to do that, but he is an independent person with autonomy and he is making this choice. dean contributed to cas making this choice, but he's not solely responsible for it.

let's say their relationship is a bridge over a chasm. this is not a case of dean burning the bridge, though you can read it that way if you want to believe dean is at fault for everything. this is dean and cas retreating to their own sides of the chasm rather than meeting on the bridge. dean is very often the one to walk out on that bridge. this is one of the only times he doesn't, and cas takes that as a personal betrayal. but cas isn't walking out onto the bridge either.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

His Anchor

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: MoC!Dean, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: how about mark of Cain dean and he is an ass to everyone but the reader. He is all fluffy and lovely dovey with the reader and one night he has had enough of her cuteness and just kisses her… maybe she tells him about a book she is reading… 

Summary: Dean is affected by the Mark in ways you and Sam don't realize, and he's trying not to let it affect others around him. However, there is only one person who can lift his spirits even when he's shrouded in darkness.

Square Filled: the first blade (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

Dean sits alone at the library table with just a dim lamp to light the room and a glass of alcohol next to him. He hasn’t been doing good as of late because of the fucking Mark on his arm. It’s a constant reminder of how much he’s got to lose, and it’s taken over his life. He wants the damn thing removed but he’d be putting people in danger if he does. This Mark has already claimed so much of his life that he’s trying to hold onto whatever he has left, refusing to give into it more.

He traces the edge of the Mark with his index finger and goosebumps crawl up his arm immediately. There’s something raw in the danger that befalls the Mark including the First Blade. He’s used it plenty of times to kill those who deserve it even though it itches for more. The First Blade will never be satisfied with how many kills Dean gives it because there is a purity in how many victims it can claim.

Including himself. In the end, he’ll fall victim to his own blade. Would he die? Would the Mark allow him the sweet relief of death?

“Hey, you alright? Why is it so dark in here?”

Dean is pulled from his thoughts and looks up at his brother who has entered the room.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and turns the brightness up on the lamp.

“I might have found a lead on Metatron. He’s the only one that’s gonna have information on the Mark.”

Dean is so sick and tired of hearing how his brother found a lead only for that lead to turn up dead. He’s been led on by hope far too many times only for it to bite him in the ass later.

“Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop looking for the cure. It’s pointless if it means a lot of people are gonna be hurt in the process.”

“I know but this time is different. Listen to this. Rowena is a really old witch. She comes from the same kind of magic as the Mark, so I figure if we can get to Metatron, then--”

Dean slams his glass onto the table, shattering it to pieces. His hand bleeds but he doesn’t care about that. Sam jumps at the sudden noise and stares at his brother with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Don’t make me smack you.”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The younger brother leaves to investigate this on his own. If Dean isn’t gonna help him then he’ll do everything himself. Dean knows he will never give up because that’s not what they do. If it were Sam who took this Mark on, then Dean would be the same way. Dean shakes his head and grabs another glass from the small cart by the table and pours himself another drink. He has bigger things to worry about than the Mark like Rowena, Cain, the Book of the Damned, and just about every fucking thing in his life.

You walk into the library with a book in your hand and Dean’s mood becomes ten times better. Everything in his life is fucked up but you. You’re the light in all this darkness and he’s so scared you’ll end up hurt because of him. You look up and smile when you see Dean but the smile is lost when you see the pieces of glass on the table.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” you ask.

“Doing nerdy things,” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, can I talk to you about this book I just finished? Like I need to tell someone.”

“Sure,” he chuckles and welcomes the distraction.

“Okay,” you rush to the table and sit next to him, “so the main character, Alana, works at this big company that everyone knows about and she feels trapped doing the same shit every single day. She wants to be doing more with her life but doesn’t know where to start or what she should be doing. That is, until the CEO of the company, Marcel started doing some shady shit. She tries to find out what he’s been up to, and it turns out that he’s making this serum that will make him rule the universe or some shit like that. She’s like hell no so she tries to foil his plans but ends up as his test subject! She tries to escape him but he ended up giving her the serum since he needed a human subject. This whole big fight happens between them but I was not expecting that turn of events!”

Dean isn’t paying attention to a goddamn word you’re saying. You’re so passionate and happy about this book you’re reading that he’s focused on your smile, the way your eyes light up, and how you can’t sit still. You give him joy like no other. How did he ever cope before he met you?

“Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Dean can’t help but grab your chair and pull you closer to him. He slides his big hands into your hair and plants his lips on your impulsively. You haven’t felt his lips in over a year since he kissed you when he was ass-backward drunk. You thought he never brought it up because he was drunk, but he didn’t want the one good thing in his life to go away if he confessed how he felt about you.

He pulls away from you and watches as your mouth opens and closes like you don’t know what to do. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness because you were not expecting that at all.

“Oh, okay,” you stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I found you and not Sam.”

“So, how did Alana escape Marcel?”

Just like that, you’re back to passionately talking about your book. You’re the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane, and he needs a bit of that right now.

x

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[roonyxx]

Healing Love: Part 4

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 1160

Chapter warnings: angst, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are), fluff.

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

My Masterlist

Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

“What are you.” he says again.

You struggle to get to your feet and look at his face, his eyes moving and alive, his chest rising with each breath.

Alive.

“I-“ how are you supposed to answer that? He will never want to see you again…

“I’m a witch, a natural witch.” You carefully say, glancing at both boys.

Will they kill you?

“I never hurt anyone. I promise.” You quickly add.

“Dean… y-you weren’t breathing, she saved you, without her magic, you would have been…” Sam doesn’t finish his sentence. You’re glad he doesn’t because you don’t want to think of that, what would have happened if you were just a normal nurse.

Dean tries to get up but hisses and grabs his stomach.

“Careful!” you say “I had enough to pull you back and fix the worse of the damage but you still have a long way to go.”

Dean looks up at you, his green eyes that are usually filled with joy are now cold and angry.

“Why did you lie to me. Do you have something to hide?” he snaps at you.

“Wh-what? No, of course not. I just- I figured out you were a hunter and- and well… hunters don’t care about what I do. They see my powers and go straight to the killing option.”

“Did you curse me? Made some spell so I would like you? what do you want?”

“Of course not! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t curse you! I just want to help you.” you explain.

“Sam can help me. Leave.”

“Dean…” Sam tries to reason.

“Your bandages still need changing so unless you want to die of infection, I need to see you at least every two days. Sam doesn’t know how to do it and I doubt another nurse will come all the way here, for free.” You cross your arms over your chest.

He might hate you now but that’s no reason for you to stop helping Dean.

“Once you’re all healed, I’ll disappear from your life.” You say.

The only respons you get is a grunt.

You turn and leave before he can see your tears fall.

The next two week pass slowly. You see Dean every two days and he doesn’t say a word. He’s very cold towards you, but at least he is healing.

Sam came to thank you and apologized for Dean’s behavior. He mentions his brother has trust issues.

It’s hard for you because you never hurt anyone, all you want to do is help. And to have Dean acting so cold hurts even more.

When you come in the bunker today, there is a woman there, talking to Sam.

You never saw her before.

You make your way down the stairs.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” Sam kindly smiles at you.

The older woman turns around and takes you in, “Ah so this is the famous witch who saved Dean.” Her accent gives a funny twist to her words.

Your magic rises in you at sensing her magic. She’s a witch, and a powerful one.

She sticks her hand out towards you, “Rowena, nice to meet you. So rare to find a natural witch these days, you aren’t looking for a coven, are you?”

You hesitantly shake her hand, “Y/n, and no. I have no interest in joining a coven.”

“A pity.” Rowena sighs and turns back to Sam.

“As I told your brother, aside from the healing magic there is no proof of other spells used. Dean seemed surprised when I told him that.” She tells Sam.

is that why this witch is here? Why isn’t Dean pissed at her? Perhaps it’s just you he hates.

“He’s in his room?” you interrupt the conversation and leave to do your work when Sam nods.

You knock.

“Yes.” You hear Dean say from the other side.

You come in and go straight to work, not even looking him in the eyes, but you can feel his stare burning into the side of your face.

You lift his shirt and start cleaning the bandages and his wound.

“It’s healing well.” You say out loud.

“It’s hurting less.” He tells you and you look up at him.

He sounds almost normal, that hateful glint in his eyes is gone.

You look back down and continue working.

“So you are talking to me, and letting in other witches that you apparently don’t hate.”

“I don’t hate you and I- I need her to check something.” He answers.

“Check if I cursed you? I didn’t.” you say.

“I know. She told me. I just…” he sighs and you look at him “I’ve been used so many times before, I was afraid it was happening again. And- and I didn’t want that because i- I really like you, Y/n.”

You’re staring at him, a little baffled. You weren’t expecting this.

“You treated me horribly when all I did was help you.” you tell him.

“I know…” he bats his eyes down, “I don’t deserve your help.” He mutters.

You sigh and touch his hand, “I can understand how you feel. But you hurt me. I can’t just jump back to what we had.”

He nods, “I understand” then a dark chuckle, “even when something good happens to me, I manage to ruin it.”

“You still have a chance, Dean. But I will need time, okay? You can start with being flirty again, I missed that.” You give him a small smile.

The smile he gives you makes all the tension in your body leave. You almost forgot how his smile can light up a whole room.

“I missed you too, Y/n. Thank you for giving me another chance.” He reaches out and touches your cheek.

You lean into his palm, “I guess you have questions?”

“I do, what is a natural witch? Rowena said they are rare.”

“I was born a witch, like my mother, and I draw my power from nature. I don’t need to do rituals or have contact with demons to have powers.” You explain while finishing up his bandage.

“And you can heal?” he asks, “or do other things to?”

“Healing is my main signet yes. I can also levitate some objects and feel the presence of other magic. Like the sigils in the bunker.”

“That’s so cool.” He moves a little to the side to make room for you in his bed.

“Would you lay with me while I ask more? I want to know everything.” He says.

“You just want me in your bed.” You chuckle and get comfy next to him.

“Why not both?” he grins at you.

You gently slap his shoulder and snuggle into his side, his scent a balm to your aching heart.

You spend the whole evening talking about your powers and explaining everything to him.

You don’t even remember when you fell asleep in his arms.

But you do know that it was the best sleep you had in weeks.

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @muhahaha303 @alwaystiredandconfused @deansimpalababy @globetrotter28 @aylacavebear

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @suckitands33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @brightlilith @snowayumi @ailalovegood @shanimallina87 @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @neptua

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

[theangelssing]

Real - Midam

prompt: It’s been like this for months now, Adam wanting a real kiss from Michael, not a vision. So Michael tries everything to make his human happy, even asking Sam Winchester for a little help.

Midam, Adam x Michael, third POV, 1574 words

warnings: soft fluffy imagine but slight mention of anxiety and overprotection, physical touch like hugs & kisses (romantic way), physical affection (friendly hand on shoulder)

a/n: this imagine takes place after last season, forgetting almost everything from the last season tbh (Dean, Crowley, Castiel, Gabriel, etc aren’t dead)

don't hesitate to send request for every character & ship you want (:

masterlist - inbox

“I wish we could kiss,” said Adam with a small sad smile. Michael projected a kiss in Adam’s mind, trying his best to make it feel as real as possible. Adam shook his head, erasing the sweet image.

“Not like this. I mean a real kiss, your mouth on mine… y’know?”

Michael didn’t answer. What could he? A real kiss wasn’t easy, near impossible, without possessing another body. And even when possessing another body, the kiss never felt right. The vessel was different each time, making Adam uncomfortable – almost as if he was cheating on his boyfriend even if Michael were the same no matter his vessel.

So when Adam asks for a real kiss, Michael says nothing. When Adam is asleep or when Michael is fully controlling their shared body, the archangel would try to work on his powers to become stronger, to make the illusion of the kisses and hugs even more real without leaving his body. But it was harder than he thought and he had no one to ask advice to. He feared his own brothers would pity or shame him and he didn’t want this – or more like he didn’t want them to joke about it in front of Adam. He thought about asking Castiel but Cas isn’t strong enough to know this kind of power. Hell, he even thought asking Crowley or Rowena! but he didn’t want to be involved with black magic or demon.

Hence why he was knocking on Sam’s door. Entering the bunker wasn’t easy and he feared Dean wouldn’t let him entered if Adam wasn’t there but the oldest Winchester seemed to have softened and let him in. After having answered vaguely Dean’s questions, he walked straight to Sam’s bedroom. He opened quickly, as if he was waiting for Michael to come, making him feel weird.

“Hi Michael, what can I do for you?” asked Sam almost immediately.

Michael looked at him from head to toe. Disoriented. Uncomfortable.

“How?…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, Sam answering already.

“When Adam knocks, it’s soft and I always almost don’t hear it. You’re knocking on the door as if your life depends on it. And Dean sent me a message. So, what can I do for you?”

Michael winced. Of course the answer was as simple as that. He sighed, entering Sam’s room and closing behind him.

“Well it is rather… embarrassing. Know that I hate asking you for this but I am here for Adam.”

“Go on.”

Sam sat on his bed, showing the desk’s chair to Michael, feeling this conversation would be a long one. Michael hesitated but finally sat on the chair, looking at Sam. God, it was so hard to talk about something as private as this.

“Dude, if it’s for Adam I won’t judge you so go on.”

The younger Winchester had something kind and generous in him. Michael thought for a second, before finally saying to himself that he made the right decision. Michael started to talk, to share things to Sam while the boy was listening carefully, nodding his head from time to time. He even reached for Michael’s shoulder to pat it, to give him comfort and confidence in his revelation. Sam wasn’t judging the archangel not feeling pity – as Michael feared – he was silently supporting and maybe even trying to search for a solution already.

“But I can’t. It doesn’t work and I didn’t know who to ask for help. So I thought you were the one who could help me without judging us or shaming Adam for being with me.”

Sam said nothing, he just stared at Michael and the archangel suddenly felt as if he said something dumb or wrong. But Sam only smiled softly then raising on his feet.

“Michael, man, nobody will judge Adam for loving you. You spent 1080 years in Hell together!”

“So… you’ll help me? Without saying anything to the others?”

“Right,” Sam sighed. “If you wish to not say anything, I won’t.”

Michael almost jumped from his chair.

“Thank you, Sam Winchester.”

“Woah, calm down with the family name. I’m just helping, I didn’t say it’ll work. Why don’t you ask Jack by the way? He’s God now.”

“Because he’s a kid.”

“Yeah but the most powerful one. Anyway, gotta start reading some books. Be ready for your training, I’ll call you when I find something.”

Sam winked at Michael and made him leave his room, then heading straight to the bunker’s library. Michael stayed there, helpless and unable to say anything, just leaving the bunker after having say goodbye to Dean. He returned at home and was so perturbed that he let Adam take the control again.

When Sam called, it was late during the night. Adam was asleep, Michael wide awake, champing at the bit, afraid Sam called someone and told everything. But when the phone rang, Michael jumped on it and answered straight away. Sam chuckled.

“Alright. I think I found something. I’ll come over, you won’t achieve anything in the bunker.”

And with this single message, the Winchester stopped the call and was with Michael twenty minutes later. A chance nobody was on the road, Sam said. Michael didn’t dare to ask how far above the speed limit he was. Sam exposed his books, showing Michael everything he found about the urgent matter.

Michael didn’t have the time to read, urging Sam to explain what he had to do. The younger brother laughed but told him, explaining everything he found. So the archangel tried. And retried. Again. And again. Until he said stopped. It was almost dawn and Sam didn’t sleep. Michael could tell he was exhausted to watch a grown archangel, the oldest one, not even reaching a small part of his goal. He knew Sam felt as if he was failing him. Michael wanted to say that he did his best helping him and that he should go home and rest but Sam didn’t want to. He wanted to continue, to find a solution, to make Adam happy and Michael feeling better about their relationship.

“Michael, you have to feel what you’re wishing for, what you wanna make Adam feel, otherwise it can’t work.”

“I’m trying Sam, but it doesn’t work! Go home, I can’t do that.”

“No. You have to understand how to be vulnerable. This power works only if you’re as vulnerable as Adam, if you feel the same things as Adam. Nothing can happen, so try again, make you vulnerable.”

“How? I have to protect him, Sam, I am an archangel and…”

“You’re Adam’s boyfriend right now, you have to make sure he’s happy and you have to love him. Love sure is a feeling of vulnerability so you have to break the walls you created around you. Go on, please, man. You can do it. Just… let your feelings take over.”

“If something happens, you’ll protect us?”

“Dude I’m a hunter, of course. Now shut up and try already!”

The archangel never felt this, a strange feeling, as he was trying to become like Adam. He suddenly felt lighter, enveloped by Adam’s love, feeling his own love enveloping and embracing him – he saw them kissing, hugging, he felt and saw it and wished for it to be true, wishing so hard that he forgot everything and only thought about Adam and felt even more in love and he tried to redirect his affection towards Adam and in no time he felt an answer to his kiss. The archangel closes his eyes, leaning in the kiss, in the new embrace. He didn’t ask himself what was happening – for the first time he was enjoying Adam and himself only, without anything coming in between them. Sam, from the outside, saw Adam and Michael’s shared body leaning in the soft mattress and pillows. He saw all the anxiety and blood pressure of Michael leaving the body, almost as if Adam took control again. But it was still the archangel, powerfully dominating his feelings and Adam.

That is when Michael felt the urge to press himself against Adam that the human woke up, in the tightest hug and most loving kiss he ever had. He was submerged by Michael’s love, surprised even. But most of all, he was happy, serene, calm. He was enjoying everything his archangel was giving him at the moment and what a moment! It felt as if they were doing it for years but Adam would never want to stop. It felt too right, too perfect to break it. But the archangel couldn’t stay like this for too long, leaving his human eager for more. Yet Adam was still feeling the link between them, he could almost see it and even though he was left without being warned.

No one dared to speak, Michael too surprised by himself, Adam too shocked and happy, and Sam couldn’t resign himself from stopping this quite private moment. The archangel only looked at the Winchester and only moved his lips in a “thank you”. Sam, without making a sound, left them. Michael was still hugging Adam, clenching at him. Adam was still feeling everything, almost painting after this mouthful kiss. A kiss that prevented a lot more, now that the archangel knew how to be even more powerful to fulfill his human’s desires.

“How did this kiss felt so real?”

“Because I made myself stronger for you.”

[watchandread02]

For the "Holidays with the Winchesters: A very Destiel Christmas Advent Calendar" by @archervale and @wormstacheangel

Day Seven: Stocking Stuffers

Dean sneaks along the corridor clutching the stack of letters in his hands tightly. Moving past the Christmas tree, which is giving off the only light that’s guiding his way. Making sure no one is around, he moves into the Bunkers library, where they have hung up a string with stockings. They are filled with sweets, nuts and oranges already. He makes sure that no one is watching before putting the appropriately addressed letters to the corresponding stocking. Taking one last look at all the stockings, which seem way too many for him. How is it that they know that many people? The Bunker is currently filled with people in preparation of the holiday. Eileen, Sam and Jack are here, of course. But also Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex and Patience have come up a few days before and are staying through to the beginning of the new year. And even Kevin, Gabe, Charlie, Benny, Bobby, Ellen and Jo have come to join them for a few days. Garth and his family arrived yesterday as well and Crowley and Rowena are sure to pop in tomorrow as well. So yeah the Bunker is pretty crowded and he wrote a lot of letters in the past few weeks, but he had to do this. For him. Because of him.

Having put all the letters in the stockings he puts the one addressed to him onto the table and moves up the stairs towards the door. Looking back one last time, he goes to the garage. He gets into one of the trucks he had made sure was ready to go, over the last few days.

And starting the engine, drives off into the night.

————

Sam is awoken by someone shaking him and screaming in excitement “Wake up!”

He blarely opens his eyes to find Jack standing over his and Eileen’s bed.

“It’s Christmas morning! Time for presents! The girls are waking up the others, so we can start as soon as possible.” Jack exclaims while practically vibrating in place.

Glancing at the clock and seeing it’s just after 6, Sam replies “We’ll be out in five minutes. Okay?”

“Okay!” Jack says, already running out the door. Probably headed towards the library where the tree is set up.

Turning to his left, Sam finds Eileen already looking at him. They sign ‘Merry Christmas’ to each other before Sam pulls her into a gentle kiss. They get up and head towards the library. They are dressed in their Christmas pajamas, that Jack had insisted they all wear.

What they find in the library is not what he had imagined. Everyone, but Dean has already made it, it seems. But Instead of a joyous atmosphere they are met with apprehension.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks.

“Dean’s missing.” Claire says, “I went to wake him up, but he wasn’t in his room. We already checked in the kitchen and the bathroom, he isn’t there as well. And I don’t think he would go milling around the Bunker at this moment. He also left his phone and keys in his room.”

“Why would Dean leave now? Nothing’s going to be open at this time and he also would have taken Baby if he left or at least left a note, right?” Jack asks with a worried look on his face.

Gabriel speaks up from where he was already pulling the candy out of his stocking, “I think Dean wrote all of us letters. Maybe that will tell us where he went?”

They all exchange worried glances before moving towards their respective stockings and pulling out the letters Dean wrote them.

————

Sam’s letter:

Heya Sammy,

I know you are wondering why I wrote you and everyone else letters.

I guess I just realized that I never really tell anyone how I feel about them. And I’m realizing that a big part of that comes from how Dad raised us, or more specifically me, I guess. Since you never seem to have any problems sharing your feelings. At least you were smart enough to tell Eileen you love her, before it was too late. You were always the smarter one out of the two of us.

I should have told you this years ago. And sometimes I think you kind of suspected it, but there was always a little, or pretty big, part (that sounds suspiciously like Dad) that was afraid you would react badly. But anyway. I am bisexual. There I said it, or wrote it, or whatever.

Why am I telling you this at all? Well it has to do with why I am writing these letters. I should have told you and Jack and everyone else as soon as it happened and they were back, but I couldn’t help feeling that it would make what happened more real, that Cas would be truly gone once I told everyone how it happened. I mean I told you the idiot sacrificed himself for me. He did it by summoning the Empty. Apparently he had made a deal to save Jack, like I already said, self-sacrificing idiot. The Empty would come for him, when he felt happiest. And Billy was after us. So we locked ourselves in the Dungeon, but we both knew it wouldn’t take long before she would get through. So he summed the Empty. To save me.

He told me he loved me, Sammy. And that I am not just a tool and killer. He was happiest by just making me feel loved and appreciated. I wasn’t even able to. I couldn’t say it back, Sam. Not at that moment. I was too shocked. And then the Empty took him and Billy, before I could really react and understand what was going on. I should have said it back. Pulled him into a hug and told him that he’s family and one of the most important people in my life. But I was too slow. And I’ve been miserable the last few weeks cause I’ll never be able to tell him. I’m never gonna be able to or make sure he knows that we - that I appreciate everything he has done for us over the years.

What I’m actually trying to say is, that I love you. Even though you can be a real pain in my ass sometimes. And you are probably right about me eating too unhealthy, like the smartass you’ve always been. But I’m so proud of you Sammy. And sometimes I’m really sorry that I pulled you away from Jessica and law school and the perfect apple pie life you could have had. And if I’m being completely honest I did mostly for myself, cause I was scared. Dad had been gone for a while and normally he would have at least checked in, it wasn’t unusual at that point for us to go a while without seeing each other. And I just wanted to see you again. To just have something familiar - other than Baby, of course - with me. And sometimes I hate myself that I pulled you back in again. But I also realize that I would probably have died a lot sooner, if it hadn’t been for you. So thanks for that as well. You’ve been the most constant thing in my life and for that I am so very grateful. Even if we have died on each other a few times. I guess even death can’t keep us from each other. I am so happy that you have found an amazing girl in Eileen. And I know that you’re gonna have an amazing future together. You are an awesome person and you deserve every bit of good that’s happened in the last few weeks. I mean we’ve both been through some really weird and shitty times - including multiple apocalypse’s. Our lives are crazy, man. But I hope you can finally find peace or as much peace as a Winchester can get.

Sorry I got carried away. But you deserve to know what an amazing man you are. And I guess I just wish you a very Merry Christmas, bitch.

I love you,

Dean

————

Sam looks up after having finished his letter and sees that everyone else seems to have finished theirs already. Through his own bleary eyes he notes that everyone sems to have gotten something similar to what he got, judging by the tear tracks and red rimmed eyes.

“Why would Dean do this?” Charlie asks, “he’s never been one to really open up about his feelings, so why now? And why all of us?”

Jody shoots him a worried look “You don’t think he would-”

“No, no, he wouldn’t. He was so excited to see all of you again. I haven’t seen him smile this much the last couple of months, ever since Cas-” Sam is quick to deny, before breaking off completely.

Everyone is looking at him worriedly, understanding what just went through his head.

“Guys! Look there’s one letter left on the table!” Jo exclaims holding it up so they can all see the name written on the envelope. Cas.

“Should we open it and find out what he wrote? Maybe it will tell us something of where Dean disappeared to?” Alex asks.

Jack speaks up before anyone else can say anything “We should let him read it himself.”

“Are ya-” Jack snaps his fingers before Donna can finish her sentence.

They have to close their eyes because of the blinding white light that fills the room. Once it dissipates, a person is standing in the middle of the room. The trench coat clad angel, is undeniably Cas.

Everyone is frozen in shock before Jack breaks the silence “This was supposed to be a Christmas present for everyone. I found a way to bring him back a few days ago and wanted to surprise you.” Jack says uncertainly at everyone’s silence.

Sam breaks out of his stupor first and pulls the angel into a hug. “I’ve missed you, Cas.”

Castiel returns the hug and says, “I’ve missed you as well Sam.”

After that everyone takes a turn hugging the angel, who seems a bit overwhelmed after everyone is done.

Castiel looks around before asking, “where is Dean? I would have thought he would be with all of you?”

Bobby answers the angel, “he’s been gone since we woke up this morning. We can’t find the idjit.”

“Dean’s gone?” Cas asks in a whisper.

“He left us all letters, but other than that we have no clue where he might be. Maybe you can find something in yours?” Garth says before handing the angel the envelope.

The angel takes it, staring at Dean’s scrawl of his name for a moment before turning it around and opening it. Everyone goes still as they watch the angels eyes flit across the words. There are tears slowly making their way down the angels cheeks, but when he comes to the end a smile takes over his face.

————

Cas’ letter:

Hey Cas,

Or should I start this the way you always did. Hello Cas. Okay no, that just sounds weird. Man, I miss your voice so much. I just- I miss you.

I know that you will never be able to read this, but I just have to get this off my chest. I never thought that everything would end like this. I thought we still had enough time. I thought I would be able to tell you once everything went down with Chuck. Why did I believe that I could get what I want? Fate has always fucked us over, hasn’t it? And now you’re gone. Again. But I don’t think you will come back this time. The kid said he’d be hands off. I’m happy we even got him to agree, to spend Christmas with us.

I can feel how Sammy looks at me. He’s worried. Rightfully so, I guess. Man, the first few weeks were horrible. I probably drank an entire truckload of alcohol. I just felt so, man I don’t even know how I feel. Sad I guess, though the company of the others has helped. They all miss you a lot, you know that. Maybe not. Maybe we should have made sure you really, truly felt accepted and loved by us. The alcohol helped to numb my feelings for a bit, but I don’t want your sacrifice to go to waste. Maybe that would make you come back. You would come back to life, just to kick me in the ass for dying after you sacrificed yourself for me.

And I’m also so angry. Because you could have told me. Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me about the deal you made? We could have worked out a solution. Together.

I am not going to be angry about you sacrificing yourself for Jack, because I understand. I have done the same. Multiple times. And I would probably do it again. If I thought there was even a chance to bring you back like that. I would do it in a heartbeat. But I wish you had felt comfortable enough to tell me. I had hoped that I hadn’t made you feel like you couldn’t tell me what was going on in your life.

I’m not only angry at you, but also at myself. Because why did you think you couldn’t have me? That your true happiness was only in saying it. Because you could have had me. For years now. There has only been you. You never saw the way I was, the times you died. It was like I became a totally different person, anytime you died and then came back. Man, you are- were my happiness. With you gone I didn’t see a point in going forward. Other than being a tool to stop yet another apocalypse. You would probably hit me for even suggesting that I’m not worth much more than a tool, ‘Daddy’s blunt little instrument’, right? But I’m going to try to be better. For you.

Man, I miss you so much. I love you, Cas. And not like a brother or just as my best friend. I’m in love with you. Oh damn, that feels kind of good to get off my chest. I get it now. Why it made you so happy. Just saying it. But dammit. You could have had it, Cas. All of it. All of me.

I love you with all your quirks and oddities (are you proud of me for knowing that word?). I love the way you talk - also, man that voice, is that just you or Jimmy? I love that trench coat you grew so attached to. I love the way your hair never seems to lie flat and that you never really got the hang of getting your tie to lie right. I miss those blue eyes of yours. They seemed to always pull me in and never let me go. I don’t know if it was your angel heritage shining through, but they always seemed to glow. I hope you know that you also were never just a tool. That I didn’t want you around just because you were an angel. You were my best friend Cas. I loved you so damn much. Even before I admitted to myself that it wasn't just as a friend or a brother. But even then I never thought you could ever love me like that. I never thought that you could feel that way about little old me. I should have gotten the courage to tell you, a lot sooner.

And I hope that I can give justice to the man you saw in me. Because of your words I didn’t give in to Chuck’s goading (I bet you would be proud). I’ll try to be better. For you Cas, always for you.

I love you (always and forever),

Dean

PS: If you are ever able to read this and I’m not in the bunker or anywhere with our family. Look for me where it all began.

————

Looking up Cas exclaims “I think I know where he is.” Before he is gone with a flap of his wings. Everyone else is left confused, staring at the now empty spot.

Sam clears his throat, drawing the attention to him. “Well I guess we just proceed how we would have originally. Breakfast first and then presents. They will join us when they are ready to.”

And with that they move on with their original plans. But this time much lighter than before, in the knowledge that Dean and Cas will finally be able to talk.

—————

Dean is standing in the barn, when the doors suddenly fly open. The lights go up in sparks and Dean is thrown back to 12 years ago, when this happened the first time. Back then he didn’t know that the angel stalking towards him would become his best friend. The love of his life. His happiness.

Dean just stares in shock as Cas comes ever closer, until they are almost standing toe to toe.

“Are you really here?” Dean asks in wonder.

Cas smiles gently at him, “yeah I am. Hello, Dean.”

Dean chokes on a sob as he moves to pull Cas into a tight hug. Cas wraps his arms around Dean as well, pulling him impossible closer. They stand like that for an eternity, just holding each other close.

“You love me.” Cas whispers into Dean’s ear.

Dean pulls back to look into Cas’ eyes. “Yeah, I do. I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you too.” Cas says.

For a moment Dean freezes, fearing the worst, but when nothing happens, he lets out a sigh of relief.

“You’re here to stay?” Dean asks, uncertain.

Cas cups Dean’s cheek gently. “I am, yes. I’ll even ask Jack if he will make me human, so I can live out the rest of my life with you.”

Dean leans into Cas’ touch. “If that is what you want, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Dean, I know that we still have a lot to talk about, but can I kiss you?” Cas questions.

“Of course, always.”

The next second they are kissing. Intertwined from head to toe. Holding each other close. Tears are making their way down both their faces. But not even an earthquake could stop them now. They finally have each other and they won’t let go for a very long time.

[dotthings]

I have some thoughts about Cas after seeing Misha’s comment on why Cas wasn’t in TW so let me put these bullet points here:

* Many Cas fans latched onto “Cas helped” like it was the only rope thrown to us in a sea of Cas erasure because that’s what it was. If I’d had to believe for the past four years that Cas was trapped in The Empty I would have gone out of my mind and I was already out of my mind due to the various fails of the series finale. Not judging since I get the appeal of a rescue arc but did people really want Cas helpless in The Empty, limp, asleep, trapped in his own regrets for the past four years of realtime (also that’s not canonically how Cas went to The Empty, I’ll get to that). It sounds miserable

* Nobody said “Cas helped” was adequate, ftr. We said it was an info dump and it was the last ditch attempt to give us something after the covid regs/CW Network butchered the finale story and Misha’s part was cut. An info dump isn’t the best way to tell a story but is sometimes a necessity in TV storytelling because of external circumstances

* Cas had earned better from the story and pretty much all the Cas lane all knew it. I was bitter about it. But also it’s what was available as a clue to Cas’s fate. We had Bobby’s line and Dean’s smile as a lantern in the darkness

* If Cas was intended to still be in The Empty why in the og version was he at the bar with Dean if the intent was for him to be trapped in The Empty

* No shade at Misha. Just thinking it through. CMP doesn’t retcon. CMP fills in the blanks and recontextualizes

* one of the great things about 15.18 was Cas’s self actualization story and that when The Empty took him he was fulfilled. Not empty. Cas saved himself—The Empty would have no power over him beyond trying to whisk him away. That is canon. Cas’s self actualization also means something to many Cas fans. The inadequacies of 15.20 don’t make the messaging and implications of 15.18 (and the story leading up to it) less worthwhile and people are still allowed to find Cas’s story meaningful. Even if we’re relieved and happy a follow up is seemingly on the way finally

* The rescue is a great story idea, Misha was maybe just speculating at CCS, or wanted to make fans happy, but I’m not dismissing that perhaps it’s a hint about some revival plans and I feel all tingly

* It doesn’t have to be incompatible with Cas saves himself. Perhaps Cas redesigns Heaven from The Empty

* Reminder that Cas is a cosmically fearsome really stubborn self-realized BAMF who was taken fulfilled and can cancel out possibly even destroy or absorb and transform The Empty’s…energy. Reminder Cas and Rowena were paralleled characters, Rowena wound up as ruler of Hell, while Cas ———-abandoned to a question mark but gee what could it be *looks at Rowena*

* Let me float this scenario. Dean goes to save Cas…and finds Cas sitting on The Empty’s throne, having taken over and reformed the place. Dean’s just staring poleaxed with happiness to find Cas and because he expected Cas to be asleep. Cas, calmly, “Hello, Dean”

*I know some people have speculated about this already. And with whatever insight and power he gained maybe he could have redone Heaven remotely. Maybe Cas at the bar is after the “rescue” — maybe he needs Dean’s help to exit The Empty even if Cas overpowered it. Who wants to clown with me about Cas King of The Empty *honk honk*

* There’s also the question of missing time and pov for Dean between the moment of his death and his arrival in Heaven and what if Cas guided Dean’s soul—lost and confused—somehow but sticking a pin in that for now

Anyway it seems very very likely we are getting a follow up to 15.18 and Cas’s story that finally gives him his full due.

*HONK HONK*

And hearthands for Misha and Jensen both watching over Cas the way they did. Misha realized a cameo wasn’t adequate, Jensen agreed, wholeheartedly, Cas deserved a full follow up not just a cameo with no explanations or deeper story, we knew this already actually but it’s good having Misha on video summarizing it. (It’s possibly due to Harvey Dent that Misha only had time to do a cameo, btw. Not because no one thought Cas should have more screentime).

[lulublack90]

Prompt 3 - Sword

@wolfstarmicrofic September 2, word count 648

Previous part First Wolfstar part

Sirius held the stone in his hand, gently flipping it over as the group pondered if they’d found all the Horcruxes or if there were still more out there. 

“We’ve destroyed three already. Could he really have made more than that?” James asked. 

“I think he has,” Regulus answered, sighing loudly. “He’s changed so much since the first time I met him. The ring must have been done years ago and the diary was probably made at the same time. He’s made the locket recently, but he changed before that, so I think there’s at least one more out there,” Regulus mused aloud.

“Well, so far it’s all things connected to him, his diary, the Gaunt ring, Slytherin’s locket,” Remus ticked them off on his fingers. 

Sirius sunk into his own thoughts, turning the stone over slowly again and again. A thought flitted through his mind, Effie and Monty would know what to do. He missed them so much. He turned the stone again and two ghostly apparitions appeared before him. Sirius shrieked and toppled off the boulder he’d been sitting on dropping the stone in the process. 

“Did, did anyone see that? Please tell me someone saw that, and I’m not going mad?!” Sirius shivered as he shakily picked himself up off the ground and looked for the stone. 

“Er no, you just screamed and fell off the rock,” James told him, looking concerned. 

“Must still be a bit tired and nodded off,” Sirius laughed nervously. He found the stone and wandered away from the group. He did what he’d been doing before, turning the stone over and thinking about Effie and Monty and, as before, the Potters appeared before him. 

“Hello, Sirius dear,” Effie said gently. 

“Mum, Dad!” He gasped. He hurriedly cast a muffling charm over himself so as not to draw attention and looked at them. “Are you real?” He asked, a thick lump forming in his throat. 

“We’re dead, love,” Monty told him cheerily. “What you have there is the resurrection stone, it’s part of the deathly hallows. James has the cloak. I swear I told him that.” He screwed up his face in thought. 

“You probably did, dear, but you know James in one ear out the other,” Effie cooed fondly. “Now about these Horcruxes dear, Monty and I have been watching your valiant efforts. You’re so close, darling.”

“There's two more,” Monty took over. “Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's diadem,”

“What about Gryffindor’s sword?” Sirius asked. “He had Slytherin’s locket. Why not the whole set?”

“The sword is hiding,” Monty said with mischief in his eyes. 

“Only a true Gryffindor can find it, and it won’t reveal itself to Voldemort, so he can’t ruin them all.” Effie took over.

“Where are they? Do you know?” Sirius questioned, they were so close now. 

“Sorry, my love, but we don’t know,” Effie told him sadly. 

“You might want to ask the Grey Lady if she knows anything. She’s Rowena’s daughter and as for the cup, perhaps find out which death eater is walking a bit talker these days,” Monty said cryptically.

“Now, my darling, we need to say goodbye to you. We love you ever so much and are both so proud of you. Take care of James for us, won’t you? He’ll need you,” Effie’s eyes were brimming with ghostly tears as she blew him a kiss. 

“Sirius, as far as I’m concerned, you are my son, as I’ve told you many times before. I love you just as much as James, and I am so incredibly proud of the man you have become. Be strong my darling boy, oh and give the stone to James, so I can tell him to get a haircut,” Monty winked at him. 

“We love you, now drop the stone.” They said in unison, and he did as they asked. 

There were two more Horcruxes. Only two.

Next part

[shallowseeker]

btw i know you said asks off so i wont be offended if you refuse to answer but im always thinking about how touched cas must feel when dean comes storming in during the diner scene in lily sunder... his friends care about him!!!!! :)

Oh. Hehe. I guess when I turned it off, I only turned off anon asks. :-)

No, no. Not offended at all. I just turned off the anon asks cause I was getting a lot of bizarre messages, some of them really out of line. (I think mostly due to me posting a Rowena-pegs-Sam joke on a poll that was apparently more high-stakes to some folks than I ancitpated.).

BUT YES LILY SUNDER OH GOD LET'S HAVE LILY SUNDER HOURS TOGETHER

You know, I wonder! I think he was touched, but he was feeling some mixed emotions, too. Namely, irritation and eventually horror.

I'm not the best Cas understander out there, so maybe a Cas-pert can weight in but... here we go.

///

At the beginning of the episode, we find Dean and Cas in a Cold War, both irritable with one another for...simply put, being heroes. Neither wants the other to "be a hero" and get hurt. The feeling is mutual.

Cas wanted to protect Dean from his stupid deal, and then Mary stepped in to take on the burden of the stupid deal, and then Cas stepped in to override Mary and got Cursed (TM).

OMG Look at Dean's FACE when Cas says, "I have to go."

////

And yes, it appears you're right. He wanted their support!

///

I wonder how heavily Cas's need for appreciation is weighted into this?

I'm thinking particularly of this line: "...and appreciative, too!"

He wants Dean to appreciate his heroics.

We see this desire repeated in the 12x19 Future script, with the mental picture of a strong, shirtless Cas and the hyperfocused closeup of Dean saying, "Thank you..."

///

And Dean is grateful.

From Sam's words, it sounds like Dean is the one who started the Cold War. The end of this episode will bookend with Dean trying to put to words why he's so pissy.

(He's worried.)

///

Looking at the diner scene today...

I honestly think annoyance might be winning for Cas overall. :D

///

He needed to talk the soldier talk, and he does: complimenting his fellow soldiers' dominations of their vessels and "keeping them" all these years.

Yikes, I'm not sure he'd engage in that kind of "angel bro talk" with Sam and Dean present. It's like they're talking about their cars.

Cas is here with one goal in mind, to get intel. He resolves to be cool-headed.

And Cas resolves to put up with it. For the sake of strategy and intel.

///

But then Dean charges in, and this is the face of an angel "losing face" and alllllll his negotiation power:

Sam and Dean have unwittingly taken away his ability for locker-room talk.

///

And then, things go to Hell. Ishim gets mad.

///

With a lap-full of Dean, Cas tries to salvage what little trust he had: "I only brought Sam and Dean."

And Dean, in Ishim's eyes, starts "mouthing off" and "getting cute." He hates it.

(I think Ishim reads them, and he's jealous about it, to be honest. Cas was everything Ishim wanted to be as a soldier, and Cas's humans truly love him.)

///

And Ishim continues his insults, which has the effect of successfully drawing Dean AND Sam into an argument as they defend Cas.

///

Cas tries to give Sam a BIG hint.

//

And then... Cas loses the discussion. Ishim closes up and decides NOT to play ball. Ishim redirects, "I have a safe house nearby."

This is a face of, "fuck you guys. Look what you did. You've made him shut down AND he's demanding I move the conversation to a 'safe place.'"

And a safe place like that is safer for ISHIM but not for Cas. It's not the outcome Cas wanted. He wanted to get to the meat of things: intel.

And he wanted to do it in a public place with backup.

///

Now that I look, I think... I think yes, he's certainly touched to have their support, but in the moment, his annoyance is winning out.

This has the vibes of, "Don't make things needlessly complicated, as you humans tend to do."

YOU DESTROYED MY NEGOTIATION, DEAN.

///

Later, of course, there's the fight.

And Ishim wipes the floor with them.

This and what happens with Ramiel in Stuck in the Middle with You are two of Cas's worst moments. I think they're huge parts of what triggers his lone wolfism at the end of this season.

He may want support, but he doesn't want them to protect him.

That's unacceptable / devastating / frightening!

(Cas, afraid he's going to have to watch Dean die.)

Dean lowers his hand, and we don't GET Cas's reaction when he does, but I can imagine it was one of the most devastating moments of his life.

Aside/// Someone smarter than me... Is that even a proper banishing sigil? It doesn't have the usual triangle that I've seen the boys use. I know Samuel used some different ones...

///

And Ishim, who already "read" Dean in the dinner, is now wanting to punish Castiel for having THE THING HE HIMSELF wanted...

...and so of course he calls his bluff: "That's what I thought."

//////

I rate it MIXED. I think Cas is having majorly mixed feelings about all this! I think he wants his family's support, but when he finally gets it, it's the WORST feeling. It's maybe the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

[oggirlboss]

༺ ♰ ༻ hopeless ༺ ♰ ༻

pairing[s]: yandere! slytherin!levi ackerman x afab! ravenclaw! reader and hanji zöe x being a phenomenal human being that deserves the entire world

warning[s]: stalking and obsession

summary: you and levi share professor snape's potions class, but that's not enough for levi. he needs more. and he's willing to go as far as it takes.

word count: 0.9k

potions class was a special hell for levi ackerman. the ravenclaw and slytherin fifth years had the class together, which led to a fierce competition for top student. this, of course, is where he met you.

pretty, little miss perfect. [y/n] [l/n]. god was he obsessed.

any focus on the course material flew out the window. why learn how bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses? why learn how to bottle fame, brew glory, or put a stopper in death when perfection was just within his grasp?

"mr. ackerman~" professor snape stopped his lecture. "do pay attention, otherwise i will send you out of this classroom. you wouldn't like that; would you?" levi would really like to stay and watch you, but on second thought, your seat was right next to the door. maybe if he left he could discretely run his fingers through your hair before he was forced away from you. "mr. ackerman?"

"yes, sir?" levi turned away from you to stare at the chalkboard snape was writing on. snape stepped forward and slammed the piece of chalk onto levi's desk. his scowl deepened as he leaned closer and said something that struck a cord inside levi.

"you're hopeless." snape didn't know how right he was.

you're only a fourth year, but your talents in professor snape's class were unrivaled. the greasy bastard even went as far as securing you a seat in the class above your year to challenge you. it should have been too easy for levi to sweet talk his way into your heart, but that preverted half-blood professor had to assign seats. levi wanted to kill himself as soon as hanji zoë plopped their ass in the seat next to his. could this year be any worse?

"leviii-" hanji gripped onto the sleeve of his robe and shook him, lost in their excitement. god knows what it was about this time.

"shut it, shitty glasses." levi spat out as he turned away from them.

"awwwww!!!" they screamed, drawing the attention of all their classmates. "is little baby levi pouting?" the people closest began to let little giggles slip through the quiet atmosphere, hanji's antics never failing to break the ice that came with having first period potions. levi however, wasn't pleased in the slightest, but one look at you made him forget his anger.

his obsession started out small. little handwritten notes slipped into your textbooks and love letters dropped into your favorite cauldron in potions class. you read them all of course, and looked them over when you felt insecure. you rolled up the notes and placed them in a pink tinted jar beneath your bed, while the letters were wrapped in twine and hidden under your pillow. it was an awfully sweet gesture, keeping them was the least you could do.

but imagine levi's delight when he discovers this?! oh he's so happy his little princess did this. it will only make him want to spoil you more.

he memorized the entire layout of ravenclaw tower for you. astute rowena definitely didn't plan for a certain slytherin to be capable of answering every riddle thrown at him by that eagle shaped knocker embedded in the door. he's snuck into your room during the late hours of the night, either watching you sleep or writing down everything he sees and touching everything he could. He pays special attention to you from 3 am to 4 am because he knows that's the time your body is weakest and most likely to just give up and let you die. and you can't die. not on his watch.

he's always out of sight before the sun comes up, and ready to write the next letter.

but today was different. the air was more crisp. life was being lived more today than any other day. and he was going to speak to you.

"oi, brat." he called across the room at you.

you. you. you. it's all you.

"yes?" you looked up from the book in your lap, his steel grey eyes focused on your pretty, [e/c] eyes.

how cute! you're so polite to him. levi reaches into the pocket of his robe and nearly sighed at the coarse feeling of your diary in his hands. he'd taken it from you so long ago, that he could barely part with the black, leather bound parchment. he's read it over four or five times, enough to have all your little secrets memorized. "found this under a willow tree in the courtyard. thought you'd be missing it."

a lie.

he'd stolen it from your bag while you weren't watching. the cute way your cheeks heated was enough satisfaction to last him a lifetime.

but he's so selfish.

and he's going to drown himself in you.

[hexedwinchester]

Things I Wish Supernatural Gave Us But Didn't...

Stanford Era Sam flashbacks that involved little snippets of Jessica and him. Jessica was hardly in four episodes but I always felt Sam and her were the best couple. Even Eileen didn't come close to that.

Sam Winchester riding a motorcycle. Have you seen Jared on a motorcycle? If not I urge you to watch Friday the 13th and Christmas Cottage (yes, that Hallmark movie). I just needed one scene where Sam hops on a motorcycle and saves the day. Dean's hella proud of his badass Sammy but ofcourse he'd never say it to his face.

Sam's Jelly Bracelet origin story. I have already made a post wondering why it never had a backstory. So damn sad.

Demon Dean feeding Sam his demon blood. Wouldn't that be the bitch of all ironies?

More of Sam and Mary moments. I'm so pissed that even after Mary was resurrected, it still remained about Dean and her. The only good thing we got was "For me, having you here fills in the biggest blank." We needed more of that!

Sam + side character bonds. Sammy never got to have deeper bonds outside of Dean. Jody, Claire, Cas, Pamela, Jo, Ellen, Charlie, they all were made to bond with Dean. Why? Dean, stop hoarding people, you already have Sam!

Sam's psychic powers/visions disappeared after S5. Imagine working with Rowena would have unlocked those powers! Sam with powers was hot.

More of Dean apologizing to Sam because Dean has treated Sam like shit and that ain't acceptable.

Sam + pet/animal interaction. Have you seen Jared with animals? It's straight from cutieland. Remember Bones, the dog Sam adopted when ran off on his own? Riot, the dog he hit? Or that familiar dog who turned into a woman? Or the old dog who wouldn't talk to Dog Dean if Sam didn't scratch her belly? Ok, on hindsight they did give us this but it wouldn't hurt to have more of this. Right? Also, why didn't Sam and Scooby have more interaction in Scoobynatural? Sam loves dogs!

Sam taking a shower. How TF did we not have that? Just Sam standing under a shower stream, head hung low, shoulders heavy with the weight of whatever trauma he was suffering with at that time. The steam rising from his wet skin. Strands of hair curtaining his face. How did we not have this glorious moment?

[ahlyasimps]

Scaredy Slytherin [S.S.]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader (tried to make it GN)

Summary: Sebastian may have chickened out on asking you to the dance but you were determined to dance with him anyways. Shout out to Ominis for being a good wingman.

A/N: Well aware there is no Yule Ball but why have big, fancy castle and NOT host a ball. It’s just a waste.

When you found yourself daydreaming about his curly brown hair messily combed through to give him that boyish charm and his adorable smile, you knew it was over. Rowena, you really had it bad for Sebastian Sallow of all people. Samantha loved to tease you about your little crush on the trouble making Slytherin student but you always waved her off as being delusional. Now as you found yourself unable to concentrate in potions class because of a certain boy sitting just ahead of you, you think she might have been right.

It all started when you found yourself struggling a bit in potions. No matter what you did you always made a mess of your cauldron so you begrudgingly approached Sebastian who by some miracle was top of that class. What started as simple tutoring (he charged a steep price though) quickly became hushed laughter in the quiet library as talking with Sebastian put you at ease. It went from barely knowing the other existed (well, you knew who he was, he was infamous after all) to inside jokes and hanging out sometimes in the great hall. You've even friends with the prickly Ominis Gaunt. It was easy to crush on Sebastian Sallow, he had a way of charming you.

With the Yule Ball just announced mere hours prior, all everyone was talking about was who they wanted to ask out. You knew you weren't going to ask out Sebastian, knowing he only ever viewed you as a study buddy/friend so when Samantha and a few others asked if you'd all like to go together as a group, you agreed.

As you were leaving potions class, you heard Sebastian shout your name urgently. "Oh, hey Sebastian! Did you need something? Forget your books again?" You laughed teasingly.

"It was one time! I think you and Ominis are spending too much time together, now you're both ganging up on me," he said sighing dramatically.

"Speaking of Ominis, where is he anyways? Thought you two were always attached at the hip?

"Ah, just over there" Sebastian replied pointing near the door of the potions classroom where Ominis was stood. "But ah, I wanted to asked you something." He said rubbing the back of his neck.

With the timing and his apparent nervousness, was Sebastian Sallow going to ask you out? You hoped it would be so. There was a lengthy pause before he continued speaking.

"You're friends with that Poppy girl right? Is she going with anyone? Ominis wanted to ask her to the ball." Sebastian hurriedly went on to say.

"Oh, sorry then. I think she was asked by Prewit already." You muttered out dejectedly. Well, since you have him maybe you could ask. Try to play it off as two friends hanging out at the ball. "Oh! By the way Sebastian..." You started saying before he cut you off.

"Sorry! Think Ominis is calling me, he can't bear to part with me for long you see." He quickly said before racing off. Were his ears red you thought watching him run back to Ominis. He was acting rather nervous for someone who was asking a question on another's behalf. As you left, you could have sworn you heard Ominis berating Sebastian, about what you couldn’t be sure. You didn't think much of it though, saddened that you lost your chance.

Even though you could very well ask him other times, the two of you were friends after all and hung out regularly for the tutoring sessions, he always seemed to dodge the topic of the ball. You knew he never asked anyone so you didn’t bother bringing up the topic, content to go seek him out the day of.

As the day of the Yule Ball approached, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had never been one to attend such grand events, but the prospect of seeing Sebastian in a dress robes had your heart racing.

As you made your way down to the Great Hall, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. You had spent hours getting ready, trying to make sure your hair and outfit were perfect, but you still felt nervous.

When you entered the Great Hall, you immediately scanned the crowd for Sebastian. You found him standing near the refreshments table, chatting with a group of his Slytherin friends. He looked handsome as ever, his hair neatly combed back and his dark robes fitting him perfectly.

"The instant they walk in, they're already distracted by Sallow" Samantha said teasingly. "Oh just go over there instead of making moony eyes at him." Amit replied laughing at your expression.

And so with the encouragement of your friends (and perhaps a bit of firewhiskey)  you mustered up all your courage to approach him. But stopped when Ominis called out to you. 

“[Y/N]? Is that you?” he asked, “Oh good, Sebastian has been a real idiot about this whole ball. He meant to ask you out but kept using me as a scapegoat. Honestly, I’ve been tempted to hex him.” “He meant to ask me out?” “Well of course, you’re the only person he ever talks about. It’s rather frustrating how much he acts like a kicked puppy whenever you leave.” So, Sebastian liked you all this time? You started tuning out whatever Ominis was saying next, too thrilled at this new development and the newfound confidence it gave you. “Ominis, thank you. I could kiss you right now.” “I pray you don’t” He quickly shot back looking disgusted at the thought before you bid him goodbye to go confront the scaredy Slytherin. You completely missed the little smirk the boy had on his face as he heard you run off. Where would Sebastian be without him, he thought.

"Hey, Sebastian," you said, trying to sound casual.

Sebastian turned to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "[Y/N]? You look amazing," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

You felt your heart skip a beat. "Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit tongue-tied.

"Would you like to dance?" Sebastian asked, holding out his hand.

Your heart leapt at the invitation. "I would love to," you replied, taking his hand.

As you both made you way to the dance floor, you felt a rush of emotions you had never felt before. You couldn't believe you were dancing with Sebastian, and the way he held you close made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

As the two of you swayed to the music, you couldn't help but feel like this was where you were meant to be - in Sebastian's arms.

As the night went on, you both danced together and talked about everything and nothing. And when the night finally came to an end, Sebastian walked you back to your common room, holding your hand the entire way.

As you said your goodbyes, Sebastian leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. "Thanks for an amazing night," he said, a smile on his lips.

You felt your heart swell with happiness as you watched him walk away, already looking forward to tomorrow.