#when an angel falls...

[bilightningwhumper]

@angstober 2024- Day 8; Growing Pains

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When an Angel Falls... (Becca's story) Masterlist --- SoaS Series Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "When an Angel Falls..." (Becca's Story) Becca goes to one of her dads for help preening her wings

Notes:

Characters: Becca- Steve and Bucky's daughter Steve Rogers Mare- Bucky and Nat's daughter, Will's twin Bucky Barnes Theo (mentioned)- Becca's mate Warnings: emeto/throwing up; pstd response

Ao3 link

Word count: 1,121

Becca PoV

Her wings itched. Ruffling her feathers and stretching them out, she couldn’t quite reach the middle of her back, no matter how had she tried. She gave up, flopping on her bed. There was no way she could finish her preening without help.

Theo was at work and would probably get called for overtime again. And her siblings were at school. Except Mare, but she was still getting used to her new hands. She could try to ask one of her dads…

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. She’d already put this off longer than she should have. And waiting any longer would be agonizing, with her nerves already on edge. Not to mention it’d be worse for her wings in the long run.

So she ventured into the living room to find Steve already there, reading on the couch. He looked up as soon as she came in, concern all over her face. Her scent probably reeked of distress, she realized and hunched in on herself as if that would help.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked, putting his book down.

Becca grimaced, trying to figure out how to ask without being awkward. “I’m fine, it’s just… trying to take care of my wings on my own is almost impossible. And now…” God, what was she doing? “But it can wait until one of the others gets home. I don’t want to bother you.” she rushed out, going to turn around.

“Becca, wait.”

She did, stopping, but not turning around again, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. This was so stupid. It’d been years since… Since then. Since her wings had first grown in. Any fears or worries should be gone. But she still trembled, wings quivering as Steve came close.

One of his hands rested on her shoulder. “Did you want me to help? Or should I get Bucky?”

Shifting from one foot to the other, she half shrugged. “You can help, if you want,” she answered quietly. “It’s just… They’re really sensitive and preening can feel really intimate to me, so anyone helping has to be really careful and I just didn’t want to be a bother.”

He pulled her into a hug, his scent enveloping her as she buried her nose in his shirt. They were close in height, which she knew but realized more now they were close. Part of her wished she’d grown up with him, back when his arms could swallow her. When she was only a child, she could have hidden from the world, safe in his arms.

Then it was over, even though he kept her close. “I’m your dad, Becca. Being here to help is in the job description.” he said with a warm smile. “We can stay out here, if you’d like. Or we can go back to your room. Your choice, kiddo.”

A smile tugged at her own lips, in spite of her still frayed nerves. “Out here works. There’s more room anyway. I’ll be right back.” She went and got her stuff from her room, coming back to see Mare had joined them.

Once her sister caught sight of the oil bottle and bin in Becca’s hands, Mare glanced from her to Steve and back, tilting her head. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked quietly, exchanging a look with Becca only they really understood.

“Please.” she answered just as quietly, shoulders relaxing.

Steve seemed confused but grateful as Mare set herself on the couch next to him while Becca sat herself on a footstool between his legs. After all, it would have been hard for Becca to explain how to help when he was where she couldn’t see.

It took a minute for her to relax enough for her wings to stop flinching away from his hands even brushing against the feathers. But she did eventually calm down and the discomfort eased as Mare’s level voice filled the silence, Steve’s steady hands following her instructions to remove the bent and damaged feathers. Even when Bucky joined them, she was still comfortable and composed.

It was when Steve started rubbing her homemade oils into her wings that her intrusive thoughts started edging into her mind. They were still enough to ignore, though, nothing that she couldn’t breathe through and center herself. The itchy feeling from the pulled feathers soothed as the oils were spread in, allowing her wings to start going limp.

Until he got too close to the middle of her back, knuckles accidentally hitting her spine where it sat between her wing joints. It wasn’t even that hard. Just a tap really. But she reacted anyway, back going ramrod straight, wings snapping shut against her back, ears ringing loudly and blocking out any sound.

Faintly, she sensed Steve lean back, concern and worry from him pinging in her radar. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t assure him she was okay. But she wasn’t okay. She couldn’t even make a sound.

Cold metal hands guided her into partially bending over, the bin with her pulled feathers put in her lap under her head.

Her stomach reacted first, expelling everything she’d managed to eat that day. Eventually the ringing noise faded next as she heaved, bile taking over. Now she could hear Mare next to her, explaining what she still couldn’t say herself. Explaining how Mariya had been the only one to preen Becca when they were raised by her. How she only did it during training or as a reward for having sex. How certain things happening during preening would bring all that back. Not in memories, but in how her body would respond. How the mind had forgotten, but the body never could. She was grateful, taking her sister’s hand gently, eyes closed as she stayed hunched over the bin.

Eventually she stopped heaving as much, so the bin was moved away. One of them coaxed her into drinking some water, though first she rinsed her mouth with it and spit it into the bin to get rid of the bad taste. Somehow she ended up curled onto the couch, Mare snuggling into her arms. One of their dads sat at her head, his lap acting as a pillow. Bucky, she thought, though her nose wasn’t working as well from being stuffed as tears leaked from her eyes. The other sat as the other end after putting a blanket over her and her sister, resting his hand on her ankle over the blanket.

Nodding off, she let out a shaky sigh, pulling Mare closer to her.

One day, she’d be okay. She hoped so, anyway. And her family would be too. They weren’t right now. But someday. Someday everything would be okay.

SoaS Taglist:

No one so far

[stump-not-found]

i don't think the theraprism is a good thing, guys

[biscuit-and-jam]

actually i'm not done gushing about the animation in this scene, LOOK HOW SMOOTH, HOW GOOD THE CHOREO IS!!! LIKE VISUAL BUTTER

[beastlyidiocy]

my sweet old man who is genuinely too kind for the world he lives in :(

[ultravi0lence14]

SWEET ANGEL

dean winchester x angel!reader

2.5k | angst, enemies to lovers, szn nine

summary: with angel now living in the bunker, dean has to swallow his pride and realize not everyone is out to get him.

WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE

the drab walls of your room in the winchester’s bunker stared back at you, almost taunting in how their beige and gloomy colours looked around you. it was coming up on week four post fall, almost a month since you were locked out of heaven, and you seemed to be making absolutely no progress.

sam had tried to teach you about humans, explaining different types of slang and technologies that they had created. though, he decided to stop after his brief pop culture unit turned into a brutal argument stemming from your confusion.

it didn’t make it any better that you had no clothes. your white dress from the day you were found under the wilting willow was all you had; grass and mud washed away though the memories still lingered.

everything was starting to become unbearable. the scratchy sheets on your bed, the barren walls with no life or colour. your day to day routine wasn’t too bad. wake up, talk with sam about humanity and it’s customs, try a new snack, and then hobble away to your room where you’d indulge in copious amounts of youtube videos and pinterest boards.

there happened to be an old laptop of sam’s lying around, and after some grumbling from dean, both he and his younger brother helped you set up and navigate the device.

dean was a topic you wished to never bring up or even think about. the man stuck to his word, not talking to you unless you initiated first. even then he sometimes wouldn’t respond. when he did, it was always snippy responses that had you rolling your eyes, retreating to where you actually felt wanted; an enigma of a place that you created in your own company.

the internet was something you marvelled at. looking at a plethora of video content on youtube, and all different types of pictures on pinterest.

a sense of fashion was something you started to pick up on, looking at countless pieces online and even grabbing magazines from the store when sam would take you out with him.

your angelic roots peaked through in the fashion and aesthetic you gravitated towards. a girly vibe was always something you enjoyed, but you also seemed to like the more quirky and unique styles. skirts, plain and colourful tights, bright sweaters and form fitting tops seemed to find a way into your brain; the drab cotton dressed you landed on earth in going to shame as you looked at all the different patterns and fashion choices.

it finally dawned on you that this is what you needed. the boring walls, uncomfortable bedding, and borderline empty room just wasn’t doing it for you anymore. you needed to find yourself, express who you wanted to be without the chains of heaven wrapped around your body.

you needed to go shopping, and fast, but there was simply one problem. sam had left yesterday to go help some hunter friends on a case, leaving in their car and expressing how he’d be back in two weeks time. so, it seemed as though dean was the only person who could help you with your recent epiphany.

the plan was a lost cause, but begrudgingly, you got up from your bed and made the short walk to dean’s room. twirling your hair nervously, you found yourself stood in front of his door, hearing the faint sound of music coming from what you assumed to be his record player. slowly lifting your hand, you let a delicate knock linger on the wood; a drastic change from the intense music playing from behind the door.

music halted, a metaphorical record scratch being heard as heavy feet came towards the door. wind blew the front pieces of your hair back, and you were greeted with dean’s gloomy face as he stared down at you from where he stood.

“what do you want, feathers?” his words had a cadence of annoyance, like he’d rather be doing anything else but talk to you. it made you wring your fingers together, picking at your cuticles as you looked up at him through your lashes. “i have a favour to ask.”

if this were any other occasion, dean would say no. hell, he’d probably slam the door in your face. but those eyes, those goddamn eyes that stared into his soul. they were big, giving your already angelic features a doe-like look. dean was mentally kicking himself at how easily he was folding.

with a sigh, he cocked his head to his right, staring at you intently, a way to mask how your look was making him feel. “i’ll only say yes ‘cause sammy’s away — but tell me what it is first. i’m not going on some whack ass trip all ‘cause you batted your eyes at me all pretty.”

the words that left dean’s lips had your own parting in shock, eyes widening even more. he was so strange. one second he hated you and the next he was flirting like you were a girl he saw at the bar. but you decided a while ago to not question dean’s ways, for diving in too deep would be like swimming in the mariana’s trench.

with a light cough, you continued your recent proposal as dean looked down at you with a cocky grin on his face. “i want to decorate my room, get new clothes, really integrate myself into society. and before you complain, i’ve been wearing the same dress for a month; it’s time for a change.”

dean would love to say no, he truly would. he’d love to laugh in your face, tell you that your sweet and innocent act wasn’t working on him. every angel — besides cas — that sam and dean had come across left them with more problems then they started out with. why should dean trust you?

but over the past weeks, he couldn’t help but realize how unreasonable he was being. cas trusted you, and sam seemed to be doing just fine in hanging out with you everyday. dean had to swallow his pride and realize that someone wasn’t planning to hurt him or his brother, that all you had on your mind was reinventing yourself and not dwindling into psychosis by staring into your empty abyss of a room.

though it was dean at the end of the day, and he could never admit that for once he was wrong. so with practiced ease, he pushed down those feelings and huffed loudly, reaching across the door frame for his keys and pushing past you out the door.

“c’mon feathers,” he grumbled as you stood by his door shocked, not knowing how to react to dean actually wanting to help you. “hurry up before i change my mind.”

the car ride was tense, an awkward tension that had you smushing into the side door. dean’s music blared through the speakers, a testimony on the fact he didn’t want to talk to you. there was no place in your bones that had you wanting to talk to him, but after 2 hours in the car, you got confused on where he was going.

“umm, dean?” you questioned, turning your body towards his and watching as his jaw ticked from his side profile. “where are we going?”

he didn’t turn his head, didn’t look away from the road as his jaw tensed and his fingers gripped on the steering wheel. “minnesota.” your lips parted, confused on why he was going to a whole different state before he spoke again. “you’ve never been to the mall of america. i’m giving you important life experiences, feathers.”

dean watched as your eyes widened, pouty lips opening wide as shock filled your body. he honestly didn’t know why he was driving a whole ten hours for you to go shopping. it was unnecessary, but dean couldn’t stop himself from continuing his drive.

“oh.” your voice came out breathy, your head going down to your chest as you fiddled with your fingers. “well, i’ve never been on a drive this long. what do you do?”

what did you do? when he was with sam, it was like muscle memory. sit in silence for a bit, jokingly bicker back and forth, sam would sleep for a bit. but you had never done this before. so dean had to think of a whole new way to keep you entertained.

he truly was trying to work on his animosity towards you. so with a sigh he turned slightly to look at you. “some people sleep, some talk to the whole time. what do you wanna do, sweetheart?”

“can you tell me about your views on the world?” your words had dean fully turning his head to look at you. he briefly gave you a confused look before turning back to the road. why would you ask that? he understood you were an angel, a heavenly creature that didn’t know anything about her own father’s creation, but why did you what to know his views on it?

sensing his confusion, you backtracked as best as you could, shaking your head and staring out the car window at all the trees and fields melding together like molten lava. “i just mean, i’ve heard how sam feel’s about certain things, but i want to know how you feel. your favourite music, movies, what your dreams are. i don’t know dean, i just want to know more.”

he was shocked, not ever having someone ask him what his dreams and favourite things were. he slightly turned his head again, eyes watching as your hair curtained your face. tentatively, he pulled his hand away from the steering wheel so he could brush the strands away from your face. your cheeks blushed as he tucked it behind your ear, hand gracing your cheek softly as he let it fall down your arm.

“sure, whatever you want, angel.”

that’s how you two spent the rest of the drive; dean raving on about all his favourite things while you silently listened, inventively taking in all his interests. you noticed how over time he became more open, excitedly talking about his interests from childhood to now. it was nice, listening to all the things that made dean, well, dean.

it wasn’t even like he wanted to stop. this was one of the most relaxing drives he’s had in a while. you didn’t interrupt him, you just sat and listened. sitting in his front seat like the heavenly angel you were and looking more like a painting than a celestial being.

dean even drove through the night, not wanting to wake you as you slept so pretty in the car. he didn’t mind not getting any sleep if it meant not waking you up to go to a motel. he was also accustomed to not sleeping for days, so he was honestly fine.

the mall finally came into view just as your eyes peeled open. you were confused, not used to the notion of sleeping. it was like a massive weight had lifted off your chest, arising like snow white out of her bed of flowers. as you noticed where you were, you excitedly looked at the structure, eyes wide in awe as you scrambled out of the car and dashed towards the entrance.

you were like an excited bunny, hopping around from store to store as dean kept a close eye on you. each shop you came out with something new — god bless fake credit cards — and dean had to stop himself from thinking about how pretty you looked in certain items.

at first you needed to figure out what your size was, so dean would be succumbed to sitting in stuffed changing rooms with obnoxious pop music playing while you tried on tops and skirts behind a flimsy curtain. when you came out in your first outfit — a long sleeve black and white striped top with a denim mini skirt — dean almost passed out in the fucking store.

his breath almost lodged in his throat, making him choke on his own breath like a damn child. that white dress of yours never let him see how long your legs truly were. they exemplified the skirt low on your hips while your just as long torso helped the shirt fit perfectly.

he knew you were a tall person, but holy shit.

you were like a fucking model. dean had to remind himself of his forced hate towards you for if he didn’t, he’d push you into that change room with his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

when dean awkwardly mentioned that you probably needed to buy some undergarments, he sat outside the victoria’s secret as you toddled in with a perplexed look on your face and his credit card in hand. the bag you came out with was massive, and dean was enough of a gentlemen to not look inside or too close to it.

the rest of the stores were a blur. a plethora of bags filled with tight fitted zip ups — some knitted, multiple skirts, tight fitted tops, cozy and colourful sweaters, a multitude of coloured tights, brown and black suede boots, and even more dresses that dean swore that it wouldn’t all fit in the impala.

it didn’t make it any better that you even shopped for your room. floral sheets with ruffled pillow cases, a white comforter, multiple tall, thick and short candles to decorate the space, and a multitude of prints and paintings that had dean shocked by your artistic eye.

as you finished at the mall, dean decided that a couple of thrifts store wouldn’t hurt. you were enthralled, looking around and grabbing as many cool trinkets as you could for your shelves. he found you a used cd player, taking you to the section with cd’s so you could pick out some music.

sam had gotten you a spotify account, so you knew the stuff you liked. songs and albums from artists dean didn’t even know you knew about graced your cart. britney spears, alanis morissette, carrie underwood, abba, fleetwood mac, and other similar artists that dean didn’t simply like, but he’d buy them just for you.

he even saw you pick up old one direction and justin bieber cd’s, and decided to not even question you on it.

you were so excited, and dean didn’t want to dim the ravenous sparkle that lilted your eyes. you rambled on about how you were going to revamp the old furniture without even needing to buy new ones, how the art studio stool that you bought for the desk was going to be so much better than the uncomfortable wood chair.

dean promised he’d take you to shops around the bunker to get essentials like comfy clothes and pajama’s, but for now, it was time to go back home.

the ride home had dean’s heart pumping just like before. you kept asking him more questions, asking stories about his childhood and how long he’d been hunting for. you were so interested in his life, which sent a wave of electricity through dean’s bones.

he started to admit to himself that he may be an asshole. how could he be so mean to such a sweet angel like you. your innocence, darling nature, and soft yet exuberant aura left dean feeling like he was floating on a feather.

you just made everything simple, and dean realized that helping you become human was the best thing cas had ever decided for him.

TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @ostaramoon @haunteres @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus0queenie33 @vaiieydoii @jasvtsc @bitchykittenconnoisseur @angel-inspiredblog @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys

*creating my perfect 2000s makeover montage in this chapter and living vicariously through it. also poor angel doesn’t know what online shopping is. she’s going to be a depop warrior tho i will tell you that much.

[puppppppppy]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[the-artist-grimm]

COTLTOBER DAY 21- "Lanolin"

During that first Winter's Solstice within the cult Anthea learned that Narinder had long neglected the holiday, and with the twins' having been enchanted by stories of a longer night where gifts were exchanged and bonfires were held, hastily made a few gifts last minute.

For the boys their first proper toys-soft, stuffed kitten plushies filled with wool and weighted with dried beans to make them comfort items.

(Narinder of course got something too, while the lamb would've preferred making him warm, clean robes, the amount of wool needed would've been too much. So he got some homemade pomegranate cookies instead after the lamb read that the fruit used to be a common offering left for him)

Prompt List!

[p4nishers]

crowley, drunk off his ass: and i was yk just some fucked up soul born in cold and rain but he was my fucking sunlight or whatever

hozier, frantically writing on a napkin: HHHMMMM TELL ME MORE

[ningadudexx]

he has something wrong with him i love him a lot

[rebisrot]

I think so much about Ford's line "And isn't it suffocating?" when Dipper says he's never been away from Mabel. Side barring how insane it is to project onto a twelve yr old boy, I think it really shows how Ford's perception of his and Stan's relationship has perverted over the forty years they were apart. We know they were close at Mabel and Dipper's age. But Ford's convinced himself that it was always bad, that his brother always had poor intent for him, always held him back, because if that's wrong, if his brother really did make a mistake, then it means he doubted the brother that loved him and he loved in turn.

[stell4rlune]

finished all of Aph’s main outfits!! minus FCU bc I have no idea how to redesign that one 💀

[autizmotbh]

skinny guys are outdated

get yourself a fat fuck

AND I STAND BY THAT

and angel dust and carmilla redesign because i can

[stompandhollar]

splat! the end <3

[heishikeki]

“I’m right here. I won’t leave.”💜

“That voice…Who are you?”❤️

[ultravi0lence14]

WELCOME TO THE BUNKER

dean winchester x angel!reader

1.5k | angst, enemies to lovers, szn nine

summary: waking up inside of the winchester’s bunker, you quickly start to realize that only one of the brother’s want you around their home.

WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE

“damn, she sleeps like a log.”

your mind was starting to wake up, the faint sounds of a gruff voice piercing through your veil of sleep. your eyes peeled open like worn out book pages, taking their time as you brought your hand up to shield your retina’s from the blinding lights.

how long you’d been asleep was a mystery to you. your body felt well rested, but it also felt like your bones had been dormant for years. the plush material beneath your body felt like a cloud, having you realize that the winchester’s had probably laid you to rest in a bed of sorts.

“dean!” you heard another voice exclaim softly in shock, a thud being heard from an unknown source. “she fell from heaven for christ’s sake, i’d also be asleep for a week.”

a week? was that how long you’d been asleep for? yeah, you fell from the sky at an inhuman speed, but you didn’t expect to be out for seven days.

when your eyes finally decided to peel open, a cream and industrial space was there to greet you. the winchester’s bunker is where you expected to be, but you didn’t plan on it being this nice. from this room alone, it seemed massive, and you were starting to already get overwhelmed.

it didn’t help that two large bodies loomed over you. as the clutches of sleep let go of your weak body, it didn’t allow you to realize that it was sam and dean who were hovering over you. so in a fit of fear, you leapt up in bed, shocking the brother’s to jump backwards as you scooted towards the headboard.

your eyes were widened in fear; even as your brain registered that it was sam and dean in the room with you. wether it be the aftershocks of the fall or adjusting to being awake after seven days you didn’t know, but your body couldn’t help but cower back as sam reached out towards you.

“hey, it’s okay.” sam spoke softly, coming to stand by the bedside while kneeling to be close to your frame. “we aren’t going to hurt you.”

the wide eyed fearful stare you gave sam softened as his reassurance sunk in your bones. all you could do was nod, looking from sam to his brother who didn’t share as soft as a reaction as sam did. “where am i?”your voice was soft, yet the gruffness of dean’s impending response hardened any of your feathery words that remained.

“our bunker,” his arms were crossed across his chest as he stood at the foot of your bed, looking down at you from his nose as he silently judged your presence. “in kansas. not a lot of supernatural creatures know about it, so don’t go flapping your gums and telling everyone.”

“dean!” it was like sam was conditioned to say his brothers name like that; shocked and full of distaste for how his brother was acting. “the poor girl just fell from the freakin sky, she’s probably confused. why would that be something she’d plan on doing?”

sam’s reprimanding had you shrinking back into the bed, making you realize how unwanted you were here. it wasn’t that sam didn’t want you around, it was just dean clearly didn’t want you there. if sam had to scold him so much, his animosity towards you was probably very high.

wringing your fingers together, you looked down at your bandaged hands as you attempted to pick at the skin around your fingers. “i don’t have to stay if that’s what you want, dean.” you mumbled, looking up at him as he stared you down. “i can go like cas, figure out how to live in this world alone.”

sam’s hand grasping yours had your head turning sideways, neck stiff as you tried to look him in the eyes. “no, you are welcomed here.” his words were steady, assured, like what he was saying was a fact. “we want to help you, that’s what cas wanted. so stay in bed for a little while, and when you’re ready, i’ll show you your room.”

you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something wondrous flow through your body. you weren’t too keen on emotions yet, but castiel had explained to you what some of them were and what they meant; and you were pretty sure you were feeling a sense of gratitude towards sam winchester.

he didn’t stay for much longer, briefly mentioning how he was going to find a room close to him or dean’s for you to stay in before he departed. with a blanket of silence falling over the room, you could finally take a moment to really sink into your mind and understand your emotions.

this was a new experience, and honestly, you were rightfully nervous. it was going to be hard, adjusting to having no grace and no angelic powers. you couldn’t fly, and you couldn’t heel people. you also felt a strange rumbling sensation in your stomach, and you were faintly sure that meant you were hungry.

everything was so new, and you realized that you had to figure out how you were as a person. all you’ve ever known is being an angel, how to be apart of a team and how to serve heaven. but now, you were your own person, and you could figure out whatever you wanted to be or who you were.

the world was still new to you, and you didn’t understand most of the things sam or dean talked about, but you were willing to try. you’ve been alive for millennia, yet you never truly lived.

falling was truly a blessing in disguise; because now, you could really enjoy life, and understand what it’s like to be alive.

“sam is the nice one y’know.” dean’s voice coming from the rooms entry had you jumping, eyes widening as you whipped your head to where he stood. his arms were crossed as usual, and his eyes held their usual steely gaze. he didn’t look happy, yet you weren’t surprised, for a sour expression was all he seemed to dawn around you.

visibly gulping as he descended towards you, your voice scratched against your throat as you attempted to talk to him. “i mean no harm dean, i swear.” the words came out in a croak as you attempted to plead your case, yet all dean could conjure up in response was an eye roll.

“i’m not stupid feathers,” the name didn’t come out tender, not like how cas would call you sweet pea. it came out demeaning, like he believed you to value yourself as some higher being who felt above him and his brother. “i know how you angels work, and i won’t allow you to come in here and judge me and sammy. if you thought i’d let you get away with being a bitch, then you are very wrong.”

his words made your lips quiver, eyes widening even more at his crude words. his entire life was centred around people leaving him, showing they never really cared. it wasn’t shocking that he didn’t trust you, that he would build such high walls around his emotions, that you wouldn’t even be able to get a peak inside. yet his words still left a stinging sensation on your gut, leaving a sour feeling in your chest.

“why are you so mean?” the words came out like a childish plea, a solemn whisper that had you reprimanding yourself at how dean made you feel like you were nothing. you were an angel for heaven’s sake. truly, you were above him. but you never thought like that, never believed that different species were placed in a tier.

castiel could be right sometimes. you were too sweet, a true angel. rightfully deserved of the description that people gave your kind. you believed that everyone should be treated equally. and like cas, you were too kind for your own good. so with dean standing above your rested frame, eyes cold as they stared at you, you attempted your last breath at making him see your true intentions. “you don’t even know me. i’m not like the other angels, i promise.”

all dean did was laugh, a bitter sound that scratched at your ears. “your promises mean shit to me, sweetheart. come and talk to me when you and your kind do something other than ruin me and my brothers lives.”

with that he stalked towards the door, not even letting you get a word in before he pipped in one last comment from the door. “try and stay far away from me, feathers. because if you try and piss me off, i’ll show you how mean i can really be.”

“is that a threat?” you wearily replied, trying to show some confidence as you weren’t up to be mistreated. you might be a kind person, but that doesn’t mean you were going to let people walk over you.

“no,” dean replied coolly, hand on the door frame as he was one step from being out of your sight. “that’s a promise.”

when you were finally alone, it suddenly set in that cracking dean winchester was a lost cause. he was cruel. a mean man that didn’t care about anything but what catered to him. sam was an honest and nice man, and if you would have to learn how to live by tip toeing around dean with his younger brother, then so be it.

TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @ostaramoon @haunteres @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus0queenie33 @vaiieydoii @jasvtsc @bitchykittenconnoisseur @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @angel-inspiredblog @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys

*sorry chat, i kinda made dean a raging bitch. but i swear!!! he will change!! we all know our man and his trust issues!!!

[shartfinz]

Travis again