#when cas stayed by deans side while they took on dick roman?

[heraldssrest]

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you've never been in love..."

- Karen Singer 5x15

[myinconnelly1]

Choice Made

Square Filled: Pups Ship: Sam x Reader x Dean Rating : Mature Warnings: 18+ ,  semi graphic descriptions of childbirth, listen this was supposed to be fluff... but I hit the angst button a little. Summary: The Third Installment of Laying Claim; Double Down Word Count: 1,179 (man that got away from me.) Created for @spnabobingo​.

“Sam we’ve talked about this,”  Dean said in a tired and overused tone.  “You know we can’t.”

“Dean it’s not safe,”  Sam protested.  You sat on the motel bed dreading their argument.  

It was always the same argument, Sam would tell Dean that you needed to see a doctor, and Dean would say that the three of you needed to hide.  With Dick Roman and the authorities searching for you all, Dean had a point.  You rubbed your hand over your very swollen belly as a foot jabbed you lazily.  Sam and Dean had marked you back when you three were on the hunt for Eve.  You found out you were pregnant shortly after and had seen an urgent clinic doctor to confirm the pregnancy.  However, with Eve and her monsters on the loose, it hadn’t been safe to stay in the same place and none of the doctors would see you without medical transcripts.

Then the world went to hell and Cas brought the leviathans into the world.  It was a waking nightmare.  Everything had become more complicated since then and the brothers had taken to hiding as much as possible since they were put at the top of the FBI’s most-wanted list.

“She doesn’t have much time left before the pup is due.  What if something is wrong?”  Sam argued quietly as they continued to load the impala.

“I’m right here, you know,”  You called as your alphas argued about what was best for you and your pup.

“You know what, you’re right,”  Dean grabbed Sam by his jacket and dragged him back into the motel room to stand next to you.  He pulled the door to the room closed with a slam and wiped his hand down his face.  “I know you are doing you’re best to try and keep her safe,”  Dean pointed at Sam, then moved and pointed at you.  “And I’m sure you’re going crazy stuck in these crap motels.  But I’m trying my best to keep us all safe from Dick and Crowley.  Did you guys forget about them!?”

“No,” You and Sam mumble.  You held your belly and your babe reacted to Dean’s voice in a flurry of movements.  Sam held your hand, and you squeezed as a not-uncommon tightness rolled down your hips.

“The authorities would arrest us all and take our pup away.  That’s if the leviathan’s don’t kill us outright.”  Dean was still heated, and you broke down crying.

“Dean,”  Sam said quietly as he pulled your head against his shoulder.

“Son of a bitch,”  Dean muttered before coming to kneel in front of you.  “I shouldn’t have yelled.  I’m sorry,”  Dean rested his head on your lap as your weeping slowed and you tried to catch your breath.

“I won’t bring it up again,”  Sam said offering the olive branch.

“Yeah, and we’ll have this whole situation worked out with the Feds.  We just have to find Frank,”  Said Dean.  “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“God,”  you gasped after a loud pop.  “I don’t think we are gonna get the situation worked out with the feds,”  You stood quickly and rushed to the motel bathroom.

“What the hell?”  Dean asked as he landed on his rear and watched you run off.  He looked over at Sam who was sporting a look of horror before he stood and leaned against the bathroom door.

“Hey babe, it’s gonna be okay.  That was your water, right?  Can I bring you anything?”  Sam said to you on the bathroom door.  He sounded like he was reciting one side of a two-sided script.

“Yeah, it was,”  You responded the panic in your voice evident.

“Breath out, it’s gonna be okay.  Why don’t you get in the shower for a little while,”  Sam suggested.

It was hours and honestly felt like longer.  Sam and Dean took turns sitting in the bathtub with you, rubbing your back, and walking around the room with you.  You heard Dean asking if it was normal to take this long when you were resting.  Thankfully you also heard Sam quell his apprehension with some facts about first-time mothers and the lengths of labor.  You were terrified momentarily when you heard him say something about days.

“Sam!”  You cried as the pressure mounted to new heights.  Dean took a chair and let you lean on him as you squatted down.  Sam came and stood in front of you as Dean was uncomfortable playing catcher, as he called it.

“Just breath, it’s almost over right?”  Sam said offering a sweet half-smile.  You let your head fall back into Dean’s lap groaning as the older brother brushed your hair out of your face.

“You’re doing great ‘Mega,”  Dean kissed your forehead.

“Fuck you guys,”  You whimper as you started to bear down.  You zoned out with the pain and focus, only refocusing when you heard the sharp squeal of your baby crying.

“It’s a girl,”  Sam said swaddling the babe slightly and handing her to you.  Sam's smile was twisted with pain a little as you took the baby and could get that first new baby smell.  “She’s yours, Dean.”  Sam looked at his brother.  You let yourself drop gingerly to your knees as the contractions eased slightly and you held your little girl close to you.

“She’s so small,”  Dean whispered as he leaned over your shoulder.  “God she’s beautiful.”

Your contraction picked up strength again and you gasped in pain.

“Dean,”  Sam said, giving Dean some pre-established signal.  Dean leaned over and took the tiny baby from your hands, just as you yelped in surprise and pain.  Dean scented you as you leaned yourself back against him.

“Sam,”  Dean whispered looking at his younger brother, his eyes full of worry.  “She smells like you.”  Sam dropped his large body down to the floor and cursed before helping lift you back up and instructing you to start pushing again.

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to push again and the pressure mounted to new heights.  You had imagined the pain from the birth of your daughter was how it would feel to die, but you knew now you were wrong.  

“Come on, Sammy, speak up.  What’s happening?”  Dean asked impatiently as you cried and screamed trying to birth your unexpected child.

“The shoulder is stuck,”  Sam grunted and you shrieked as he worked to dislodge the infant's arm.  “There he is,”  Sam sighed as you collapsed back against Dean’s leg.

“It’s a boy?”  Dean asked, sounding excited.  “You did it,”  He whispered into your hair kissing your temple as Sam leaned in to kiss your lips gingerly and handing the bigger boy to you.

“Well hello there,”  you whispered to the baby you were now holding.  “In a little bit of a hurry there?”

Sam laughed and fiddled with your daughter's finger.  Dean swatted his brother away playfully.

“You’ve got your own,”  He teased Sam.

“Yeah, but she won’t let me hold him,”  Sam whined lovingly as he helped clean you up.

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[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

He’s my past, you’re my present and future.

Hey everyone! I hope everyone is doing well, considering the world right now, and that your being safe. @clarinette07 brought this challenge to my attention, and I just had to jump on it. This challenge was started by @princessmisery666 as here Triple Celebration Challenge! Having two creators work together, meshing there writing styles together, a very cool concept.

@clarinette07 and I decide on that our prompts were: the Song You Make Me Wanna by Usher and the dialogue “We’re not meant to be together, I see that now. But we are supposed to be family.”

Synopsis: reader has a thing for Dean and one night they act on their feelings, but the next day things take a turn and the reader’s world is all turn around. A year later and a whole new life, the reader is back in that same town and same motel room she was with Dean, but now she has another Winchester after her heart. What is a girl to do, follow her heart from the past or her present?

Reader X Dean, Reader X Sam. Mentions of lost, heartbreak, flirting, mentions of sex but nothing graphic. Also it is a long story, 5,000+ words but its worth it.

I do hope you like what @clarinette07 and I came up with. If you do, please like and reblog the story, and give @clarinette07 and myself a follow if your incline. But Please do not post as your own work!

Thanks!

Love~

It has been a year since Dean left, no he didn’t move; he was sent to purgatory. Left or sent to purgatory, it doesn’t matter the fact is that he is gone and never coming back. He walked out that motel door, and that was it. If you had known that was the last you would have seen him, you would have asked him to stay, to never walk out the door...for what was it...breakfast? He had kissed the top of your head and said he was going to get him and his girl, his girl, God how you love that he called you that. How many times you wish for him to call you his, and finally, he did. Y/N stop! Stop dwelling, he left to get you both food, coffee to wake up and get going for the day, to help you both sober up from the night before. Probably to clear his head and figure out how to tell you that you both are better off friends than something more. At least that is what you thought when two hours had passed and a dozen unanswered phone calls and text later.

You tried not to worry, you kept telling yourself that something must have come up, that a break in the case or a lead that he had to follow pulled him away and he just couldn’t let you know. Pacing back and forth in the motel room, your mind keeps wondering if maybe, just maybe he wised up and left, couldn’t face you, or tell you the truth. That what happened last night was a mistake, and so, instead of breaking your heart, he just ran. Dean would never do that, he is a standup guy, besides the things he said, the things you both said were the truth. No, something else must have happened.

The sound of your phone ringing pulls you out of your running mind and back to the room, a wave of relief washes over you, see it’s him, he’s calling to apologize and tell you he will be back in a few. Picking up the phone, your stomach drops, and worry starts to set back in. Dean’s name is not on the screen, it’s Sam, his brother. Taking a ragged breath, you click accept, “Hey Sam,” your voice barely above a whisper, the air lost out of your body that you hardly get any words out.

That conversation with Sam, you would like to say, keeps playing in your head over and over, but honestly, you stop listening to his words after, “it all went wrong... Dean’s gone...” what you remember is your legs giving out from you. The feel of the cheap carpet under your bare legs. Losing the strength to keep the phone by your ear.

The words that Dean was gone, although you knew someday you would hear them, in the life of a hunter, it would be stupid for you not to think about it. Thinking about it and actually hearing it, well, it’s two different things.

You can still feel the pain today, when you think about that moment. The feeling of pain radiating out through your chest, you wish like hell it would stop, but it doesn’t. All the air in your body is gone again, and tears stream down your face.

You’re not sure how Sam found you, or how long it was until he did. You remember him picking you up off the floor and carrying you out of the motel room. You buried your face in his shoulder, not wanting to look at him or the world. Instead, just wanting to keep your eyes close and shut everything out, if you didn’t open them, then the truth wouldn’t be real. Then Dean wouldn’t be gone.

Later you found out that a guest was walking by and heard you screaming and crying. Thinking that you were hurt, came running in to find you on the floor, sobbing and in shock. Your phone next to you with Sam on the other end, screaming your name.

Sam brought you back to the bunker, setting you up in a room that was in between his and Dean’s bedrooms. Sam let you sleep, never pushing you to talk, to talk about what you and Dean were working on, and never forcing you to hear what happened to Dean. He gives you your space, dropping off meals outside your door, he keeps his distance.

Hearing your cry and scream in the middle of the night the first month was hard, you suspect, for him. Sam would come running in and see you tangled up in the sheet, sweat dripping down, he would stand at the end of the bed and ask, “What can I do Y/N? Please, I want to help.” His voice pleading with you to let him in, the look of concern because haven’t. Always, you would give him the same answer, “it’s nothing, I am sorry” monotone and pissed off that you woke him again, that you disrupted his life or a stupid dream. You would untangle yourself, get up, and walk past him towards the showers. Every time he would stop you, lightly touching your arm to prevent you from leaving. “I miss him too.” That’s all that you would let him get out, his voice deep like Dean’s but different, a softness and sadness tone that you rarely heard from Dean.

You wanted to let Sam in, you really did. Sam was your best friend, he was the one before all this that you confided in. The one that you could tell all your secrets to, well almost all of them. He didn’t know about you and Dean, about your love for his brother, that was the one thing you just couldn’t tell him. You never wanted to be that girl that fell for your best friend’s brother.

After a few months of silence and wallowing in your own pity and depression, you’re not sure what changed. Maybe the idea that no one is ever really gone, or that all the stories you have heard about both Sam and Dean cheating Death so many times. This couldn’t be the end that there had to be a way to get him back.

Throwing yourself and Sam back into the game, you took anything that looked like a case. Anything that would put you in contact with the supernatural to ask, what happened to Dean? Most, if not all, the hunts wound up dead-end leads on that question, or demon’s playing with you just to see you squirm. After months of coming up with nothing, spending every second pouring over the vast library that the bunker had to offer, you were about to throw in the towel again. Maybe he was gone, that Dean was never coming back, and this, a reality without him, is your new normal.

You didn’t know how it started. Only now whenever you were around a certain loveable, long-haired Winchester, your heart began to beat faster, and your stomach would flutter with butterflies. There was always a sense of peace when you were around the brothers, especially Sam, but lately, things started to change, and you’re not sure how to handle that. After all, you are still in love with the eldest green-eyed Winchester, aren’t you?

It had been a long year of mourning the loss of your green-eyed lover, but thankfully you weren’t alone. Ever-present Sam was by your side the whole time. After your time of mourning, you realized you had to keep fighting. Dean would have wanted you to keep fighting, with Sam alongside you. Not to say things got any easier, but after losing Cas and Dean, then Kevin all in one day, it took some time to get back to any form of routine. Eventually, you & Sam were able to get your friendship back to how it was before that fateful night with Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another night off drinking and relaxing with the boys when Sam tried to take both brothers to their room, but Dean was just too wound up and asked to stay a little longer. Of course, you loved them both, but Dean rarely ever asked to stay to hang out with you without Sam or leaving with a girl for the night. This was a surprise you would not turn away. Sam looked back, ever so reluctantly, but left nonetheless. As the night unfolded, you both played a drinking game that was a mix of 20 questions and Truth or Dare, and you opened up more to Dean than you ever had in the past. He laughed at your aversion to clowns and said he really does have two sisters!

“One’s a giant nerd, while the other is much easier on the eyes.”

You had never really been on the receiving end of his earnest flirting before, and this just made your heart skip a beat, and all the color rushed to your cheeks. More truths were shared and more secrets told, which lead to you saying that you have never been French kissed before (and enjoyed it). This apparently was unforgivable in Dean’s eyes because he asked if you wanted to try again with HIM!!!

Now, you may have had a little too much to drink, but you damn well know if Dean Freaking Winchester asks to kiss you, you DO NOT turn that down! (Mama didn’t raise no fool!)

That kiss was the start of everything changing. You and Dean grew closer while Sam and you seemed to have a bit of tension all of a sudden, and you could never figure out why. Eventually, you found your rhythm hunting together again, and one night everything came to a head with the looming battle against Dick Roman and his Leviathan puppet army. Things were moving relatively slow between you and the eldest Winchester, but with the fear of the unknown with this fight and (again) too much liquor involved (you’d think a girl would learn) you and Dean made passionate love for the first and, unbeknownst to you, last time.

********* “Hey, earth to Y/N, are you listening to me?” Sam’s voice pulls you back to the present, back in the bunker, back to reality without Dean. You shake the thoughts from your mind, focus Y/N, you have a goal, a mission to follow, get Dean back.

You look up from the library table to Sam, you can see he is concerned about you not paying attention and is going to ask you again for the millionth time are you okay. Giving him a small smile, you beat him to the punch, “sorry, what were you saying?”

Sam sits down across from you and pushes his laptop in front of you. “I think we have another case if you want to check it out?” He says, pushing away his thoughts of pursuing the subject further, knowing that pestering you leads to you shutting him out.

While your eyes scan the article, Sam gives you the rundown. A string of murders over the past few weeks have been going on in this small town. What makes it a case for you and Sam is that each one of the victims’ hearts is missing. “Werewolves,” you cut Sam off, looking up from the computer, “I will be ready in twenty.” You say, getting up from your chair. You don’t wait for confirmation that you’re leaving right now or anything from Sam.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on the road, Sam behind the wheel, and your nose is buried in the recent lore book that you have been reading cover to cover to find anything about purgatory and how someone could escape. You’re pulled from your reading when you hear Sam mutter, “Shit!” under his breath. You’re about to ask what is wrong, when you look up from the book and towards him, your eyes fall on the passing city limit sign. Fucking Boring, Oregon, you have got to be kidding me. In reading the article, you must have just glanced over the town name, this is the same town that you and Dean worked your last case together, the same town where everything changed, the same town where Dean left, left you. “Y/N, I am so sorry. We don’t have to stay, I can turn around right now, call up Jody and see if she can…” Sam quickly stammers out, but you stop him before he can finish.

“Sam, I am fine; it’s fine. It’s a case, and we need to solve it, and we are already here,” you say, your confidence, however lacking, was trying to build for posterity’s sake. Giving him a reassuring smile, you can see that you’re not convincing him at all. “Seriously, Sam, I am fine. Let’s just not stay at that crappy motel again, and we will be all set.” Fake confidence laced in your voice, you give Sam a pat on the arm and try to focus back on your book.

Unfortunately, this town is so small that the only other motel is closed for renovations, so the motel from your past is the only option. Pulling into a parking spot, Sam stops before getting out to get a room, “Seriously, we can drive to the next town over and stay there,” asking you again, if you would want to do that.

“No, Sam, the next town is over 100 miles away, it would be stupid to do that.” You say, giving your best reassuring smile, you push down your anxiety that is bubbling at the surface. Just being here in this town, this parking lot again, you look away from Sam, focusing on the detail in the orange/blue plaid that he put on this morning, one of your favorites. Come on, Y/N, you can do this.

Looking back up to Sam, you can tell he wants to say something, bring up Dean again, or ask if you’re alright. The concern is written as clear as day on his face, his hazel eyes lock with yours. “Come on, Winchester, go get us a room. I am tired, and you could use a shower.” you joke, giving him another playful shove while holding your nose and waving at him as if he smells.

This causes Sam to laugh, his look of worry and concern falling off his face and replacing it with a smile that causes his dimples to pop. “Okay, okay, I am going.” He concedes, getting out of the car and walking into the small office.

Watching Sam walk away, you start to think, Thank goodness Sam is with you because you don’t know if you would be able to handle being here alone again. The last time almost broke you beyond repair, but Sam was there to help hold you and put the pieces back together.

Honestly, you don’t know where you would be today if it wasn’t for Sam, your puppy-eyed Moose Man. Even though you still miss Dean so much, you still feel complete when you’re with Sam. (Does that make you a horrible person?) You don’t believe these feelings are new. Deep down, they were always simmering there, just never given a chance to bubble to the surface. But now that Dean is gone, you have grown even closer than before Dean and you started whatever it was you had. For goodness sake, you never even got the chance to explore that, let alone define it, but with Sam, everything just comes so naturally. You think now is the time to try and move on, not to forget Dean, but to not wallow in sadness either. You don’t have doubts that it’s just the alcohol talking when you’re with Sam or worry about him leaving you at a bar for a random girl for the night. Sam has always treated you like the only girl in the room and, until recently, you always thought he was just a good friend. However, lately, you have noticed this look in his eyes when you’re together. It’s a little like Dean used to get when he’d walk into a diner and see a pie display: Complete adoration and love.

Guilt has held you back from seeing anyone, especially Sam, in a romantic light, but you can’t fight these feelings anymore. Now it was time to make a decision to do something about these feelings or just keep our friendship?

You see, Sam walks out of the office, and towards the car, before you can even think about answering that question, he opens up the door and sets back down. “I got a room around back,” he says, turning the car back on and pulling around the parking lot to park near the room.

“Great!” you say, looking out the side window as he makes the short drive around the building. Y/N, you have to keep your head in the game. Focus on the job, right now, the most important things on our plates were tracking down Crowley to find Kevin and solving this case and killing the monster of the week.

Sam’s POV:

I had waited too long, fought my feelings too long, claiming I loved her as a sister and my best friend, but seeing her and my brother kiss broke my heart. Of course, I was happy for them. I love them both! I just wish I would have been brave enough to lay it all on the line before I missed my shot.

Then, the unthinkable happened, and we lost 3 people who were so very important in our lives, and we were both mournings in our own way. I had to try my best to be strong for both of us. For a while, but I would do anything for her.

Now, it is a year later, and I finally feel like I have my Y/N back. Maybe now that we’ve both had time to heal from the wounds of losing our loved ones, I can try and see where this relationship can go. I wanted to start small. Coffee shop trips together, movie marathons together in our pj’s, making her favorite greasy guilty pleasure just to see her smile. I knew I was no Dean in the kitchen, but I would try anything for her. We both enjoyed doing research and talking about a new monster or new piece of lore we would discover in the MOL library files.

Then, the sleepovers started. It began shortly after Y/N came home to the bunker after everything went down at SucroCorp. The nightmares that would not leave her alone, so she would come and ask to just lay with me at first until she could fall asleep. Later, we would stay up late, and she would talk about what plagued her dreams. After a while, the nightmares stopped, but the sleepovers didn’t. We just enjoyed being in each other’s company. It’s during these times I realize I’ve fallen for my best friend and I don’t think I could live without her by my side.

I knew I was pushing my luck when I found that case that was in the same town that Dean and Y/N had spent time in before everything went to shit at SucroCorp. I knew that she would jump at the chance to work on another case though, I just thought she would have seen the town name and thought twice about it, I guess I was wrong.

I didn’t plan to stay in the same hotel, and after much persuasion, and fifty dollars, I made sure we didn’t get the same room that I found her in that day. I want to get this case wrapped up quick, and I wasn’t going to make her live through sleeping in that same room again.

************

Same day later in the evening-

Getting back to the room around 6pm, you were ready to take off this skirt and heels, and just fall into bed and sleep the rest of the night away. Talking to family members of the victims and the medical examiners has never been your strong point, research and coming up with a plan, that is where your talents lie.

Making your way through the door ahead of Sam, you kick off your heels and faceplant in the stiff and uncomfortable bed.

You can hear Sam behind you try and hold back a laugh as he shuts the door, seeing you sprayed on the bed, “done for the day are we?” he asks, with a smile you’re sure is spreading across his face.

“Yes,” your voice muffles from your face, still facing the mattress, “just leave me here to sleep.” The victims’ families weren’t much help, and of course, the medical examiner already confirmed what you suspect you were hunting. Now came the fun part trying to figure out who the werewolf was and where the den was.

The sound of Sam sitting on the bed next to yours, and him shrugging off his jacket, was the next thing to fill the space. “So pizza or Chinese?” He asks, knowing full well you did not want to leave this room and go out for dinner.

“Chinese,” you muffle again. “Extra egg rolls and sweet and sour sauce.”

Sam laughs at this, “yes dear,” he says, getting up from the bed, he goes to get his phone and place the order.

********* The food was just what you needed to get your second wind, well that and the twenty-minute nap you had waiting for the food to get here. Sitting across from Sam at the small table in the room, food covering the table, you look at the leftovers in front of you, “Why is it, we always get so much food when we order Chinese?” you ask. Twirling your chopstick around your fingers before placing it in the leftover Low Main.

“I think they just always give you more since you will be hungry again in like an hour.” He jokes, tossing over a fortune cookie, “Always have room for this though.” he says, then breaking into the wrapper and cracking open the cookie.

“That is true,” you say, opening your cookie as well, reading your fortune. The room is silent, with only the sound of the tv in the background filling the space.

“So what does your fortune say? Going to be rich and famous soon?” Sam asks, joking, tossing his fortune into the trash pile as he eats part of the cookie.

You stare down at the fortune, you’re not sure if you want to read it out loud or not. It’s not like you ever really took stock in them before, but for some reason, this one seems to hit home. “Umm…” you clear your throat, taking a second to think if you should play this off seriously or not. “Let go of your past, for your present to become your future.” You read off, in a serious tone. Tossing the fortune onto the table, you pick up your beer to finish off, and try and read Sam. Sam, of course, was looking at you, trying to read you as well; by his serious stare down at you, you wonder if a lecture is about to start. About how if this is not a sign that you are running yourself ragged trying to find a way to save Dean, what more did you need. “I mean, these things are never…” you start to brush it off, but are cut off.

“I am in love with you,” Sam blurts out. You're stunned by his outburst, the hardness leaves his face and is replaced by embarrassment. “I am sorry I just had to say it. Had to say something before you brush this off, and we go back to our friendly banter and work the case.”

You’re not sure what to say. You love Sam as well, he has been your rock through it all, your person; but there's still a part of you, that part of you in that motel room from a year ago. A part of your heart always with Dean. As much as you want to tell Sam that you’re over it, over Dean and ready to move on, are you?

Sam seeing the wheels turning in your head, “I am sorry Y/N, but I just had to tell you. I have loved you since we first met. Before, it was just friendship, but it has grown into something more. This last year, us living with each other, relying on each other. It just got me thinking.” Sam pauses, turning his eyes from you and looking down, embarrassed to even tell you more.

“What? Tell me?” you ask him to keep going, even though part of you wanted to tell him to stop, that the more he talks, the more things would be complicated. You know that you can’t give your heart entirely to him and that lying won't work either.

“You make me wanna … more. I can see us having an actual life; maybe it’s not all white picket fences and all, but it’s a life that’s not consumed by hunting and monsters.” Sam’s voice is low, but it’s sincere. He’s focused on tapping a finger on the table, a nervous habit of his that you find cute.

“A ring and all the things that come along with it?” You say, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, you have had those same thoughts about him and you as well; it’s just when you have those thoughts, your brain instantly reminds you about Dean, and you forget about them.

Sam nods his head in agreement. Looking up at you, relieved that maybe, just maybe you’re going to tell him that you feel the same way, that you want to be with him as well. That you can let the past be the past, move on with him. He’s about to ask when a knock at the door stops him. Giving you a questioning look, silently asking if you were expecting anyone, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head no.

You get up and start to head for the door, Sam follows behind you, making sure to grab his gun and getting ready to shoot if needed. Waiting for a second for Sam to get on your side and ready, he gives you a short nod to open the door.

You open the door, and you’re stunned to see Dean standing there. Dressed in the same clothes he left in that morning, his jeans and shirt a bit dirty and torn, his leather jacket has also seen better days. It’s like a bucket of ice water has been thrown at you, you’re not sure you can formulate words into a sentence.

“Hey, sweetheart, can I come in?” He says, a smile forming on his face, taking a second to look over to the right of you; he sees Sam, “Sammy, can you lower that gun?” Dean’s voice, a bit deeper and harder then what your brain has been replaying over the last year, but still that is your Dean.

***********************

Sam’s POV :

This was not happening! Was this a sick joke? Was this another demon scheme? Of course, right when I get the guts to tell her how I feel, something happens to come between us. But, if this is really my brother, I have no choice but to step down and let them be happy together. It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? But why does it hurt so much? I just want to be happy, too.

***************************************

This was a dream, you’re going to wake up any second, and you will be in Sam’s arms, and this will be one big dream. But, after all the tests were done, you were still in shock. Your Dean was back, and your Sam had just confessed his love for you. You are so screwed!!! You decided to finish the case, then deal with it all when you got back to the bunker, but that left you with a very awkward, quiet ride home. You sat in the back, thinking about what you were going to do, but could not decide. You loved them both, but realized that you loved them so differently than you thought. You found you could live without Dean, but the thought of living without Sam hurt more than you could ever have thought. As the night went on, and the days went by, Dean was more secluded than usual, but little did you know he was watching and waiting for the right time to talk about what happened between you and him and what he saw happening with his brother and you.

“I see it, you know? How you guys just fit.”

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Y/N, I’m not blind! I see the way Sam looks at you and how you look at him, and I get it. It’s okay. We’re not meant to be together, I see that now. But we are supposed to be family. What we had was special, and I will always treasure that, but what you can have with Sammy is even greater than what we thought we had.”

Tears were forming in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop the runaway tear if you tried.

“I never meant for this to happen, or to hurt you, I swear!”

“I know you didn’t, Sweetheart, I know, but I can’t pretend that I am who makes you happy when I can see you’re drawn to my brother, and I can see how much he loves you. How much he’s always loved you.” Dean says sweetly, bringing his hand to wipe the tears from your face.

The act is comforting to you, reassuring you, and that he means what he says. Encouraging you that yes, he loves you, but not in the way that you and Sam love each other. Giving Dean a small nod, you take a deep breath calming yourself and getting the confidence to walk down the hall to Sam’s room. “Thank you, Dean, you’re a good man.” Your voice is less shaky in the end, and you pat Dean’s chest. “I think I should go talk with Sam.”

********** The short walk to Sam’s room from the library was enough time to build yourself back up. You knew exactly what you wanted to say to Sam, and you hope like hell, he still meant what he said before.

Giving the door a quick knock, you hear Sam say, “it’s open.” Shortly, like he didn’t want visitors. You could leave, wait for a better time, but you were here now. You open the door to find Sam at the small desk with his back to you. “Hey, Sam,” you say, to get his attention.

Sam turns with a look of surprise, “Y/N…sorry I didn’t know it was you.” Mad at himself for being curt, you see his face softens, “what’s up?” He asks, getting up and walking towards you.

You take another breath, closing the gap, you hold yourself back from reaching out to lock your hands with his. To feel his skin on yours. “I wanted to finish our conversation...from the hotel that night.”

“Y/N, we don’t have too. Dean is back... let’s just go back..”

“I don’t want to go back!” You yell, cutting Sam off, his silent expression letting you go on. “I want the same things that you talked about that night, I want them with you.”

“What about Dean?” Sam asks, his voice laced with caution.

Needing the connection, you lace your fingers with his. Looking deep into his hazel eyes, you’re confident that this is the man for you. “He’s my past, you’re my present and my future. If you still want me?”

“Yes!” Sam says, a smile forming on his face, pulling you close, he leans down, his lips finding yours.

Kissing Sam for the first time, feels like coming home; passionate, sweet, tender, and perfect; everything you ever wanted or needed.

~ You were finally home ~

Tag List:

@wotinspntarnation​ @prettybubblesintheair​ @arses21434​ @deangirl7695​ @sammysgirl-spnlove​ @clarinette07​ @ezilyamuzed​ @waywardwboys​ @bitchy-ginger-1​ @unicornblood4ever​ @onceuponagleepottermindlock​ @francezka10​ @fatacacia​

[javocjovian]

When You Awake - PB Gift Exchange

Happy Exchange, @deepeststarfishsong​ !!! I wrote this for the Profound Bond Gift Exchange! The theme was Quarantine & Chill. I hope you like it!!!

Title: When You Awake Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744199 Ship: Destiel Rating: E Word Count: 3161 Tags: canon compliant, crazy!Cas, bedsharing, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort/fluff, happy ending, first kiss Summary: Set before the finale of season 7, Dean suspects Castiel isn’t as crazy as he seems, but he finds it hard to hold a grudge when he sees Castiel suffering in his sleep.

Beta-ed by saltyravenclaw

(x)

When You Awake

It’s been a week since Sam and Dean narrowly escaped Dick Roman Industries with their lives and a stolen block of clay in a briefcase. It had been days since the demon tablet was recovered and Castiel woke from his penitent slumber. And still, Dean couldn’t accept the fact that Castiel might never truly be himself again. 

His days were now full of games of ‘Sorry’, poorly braided sunflower crowns, and midnight calls about where to hide a dozen stolen monkeys. Everyone else had given Cas up as dysfunctional, unstable, and unable to account for himself, but not Dean. He still glared tight-lipped at Castiel as if he had just sank into the dark waters of Sioux Falls Lake. But it was also Dean who passed his hours by staying at Castiel’s side when they weren’t searching for ways to kill a Leviathan. It was Dean who stayed behind while Sam and Kevin tried to decipher the last few words of the tablet.

 And it was Dean who watched over Castiel while he slept, because he just couldn’t accept that the fate he had given everything to help Sam avoid had been passed on to his best friend.

It was one of those nights when Castiel fell asleep unceremoniously on Dean’s bed that he had the sudden realization he’d never seen an angel sleep. Dean didn’t need to be a prophet to figure out why; Castiel was damaged. The tablet may have woken him, but staying awake was a feat too taxing for Castiel’s broken mind. So Castiel slept. Dean didn’t mind, actually. Hell, he enjoyed the silence for a change. In sleep Castiel looked like himself again, not the blank, delirious puppy he’d become, baffling them all with a thousand and one facts about mulch. 

Dean had never seen an angel dream, either, yet he knew at once Castiel was. While blithely unaware in his waking life, it seemed that in sleep his mind was much less at ease. Castiel tossed and turned endlessly in his sleep, and Dean knew why he was doing that, too. He had those kinds of dreams before. Perhaps it was sympathy that made Dean put his guns aside and try to wake him. It didn’t work, but Castiel seemed to relax at Dean’s touch and he’d fall back into a deep sleep all the same. 

It didn’t last, however. Castiel soon began to writhe again, and when Dean got tired of getting up every ten minutes he begrudgingly moved the covers aside and laid down beside Castiel. He stirred and mumbled something about bees, but Dean shushed him and he fell quiet again. The warmth of Dean’s side against Castiel’s back seemed to do the trick, and it wasn’t until a door slammed an hour later that Dean realized he, too, had fallen asleep, his head drooped on Castiel’s shoulder.

Sam was back with news of the ingredients. At last they could kill Dick Roman.

Days passed while they gathered the ingredients for the Bone of the Righteous Mortal, and Dean found himself spending nights sharing a bed with Castiel. He figured Castiel must have known he was doing it, but he never brought it up and Dean wasn’t complaining. It felt odd, being so angry at someone and yet so unable to listen to their whimpering pleas while they slept. As Dean lay there beside him night after night, his warm touch soothing Castiel as if it were angel grace, Dean had never felt so conflicted. All he knew was that the Castiel suffering in his sleep was the real Castiel, and Dean wouldn’t let him suffer alone.

Hours had passed since Castiel became one with the bees, and thirty minutes since Sam and Dean were given the last ingredient to kill Dick Roman: Crowley’s blood. Ironic that Castiel had been the first ingredient, and he would soon complete the ritual by identifying which of the Romans was the real Dick. That was the theory, anyway. Although no one expected Castiel to do it, not even Dean. It was only while Castiel was asleep that they were united. The Castiel who was awake and spoke of cosmedics testing and horse fertilizer wasn’t the real Castiel.

They had only a short time left together. Dean resented Castiel for wasting it with his avoidant ramblings, even though he knew Castiel could fix himself no easier than Dean could. They would set out in the morning to kill Dick; with or without him. Dean wasn’t sure which he wanted, which would soothe his fractured soul. Either way, he went to check on Castiel during the night like he always did.

Castiel was dreaming as usual, although tonight it sounded worse than ever. His breathing was uneven and his back was moving up and down roughly. Dean went to the side of the bed and touched Castiel’s shoulder, but this time Castiel didn’t relax. This time Castiel jumped and turned to look at him. 

Despite the surprise of finding Castiel awake, Dean’s face fell to its usual stony expression. Castiel however was far from looking usual. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were tearstained and red. He looked so human in that moment. Dean felt his stomach drop.

Castiel laid back down, turning to face the wall and spoke as steadily as he could. “Dean, I have nothing more to say. I’m not going with you,” he stated calmly, as if they were discussing it over checkers.

Dean felt like he was suffering from whiplash. He removed his hand. “I know,” he croaked, his voice sounding rougher than usual. “I was just checking on you.”

Castiel went silent at this, except for the occasional, stifled sniff. 

It took Dean several uncomfortably silent moments to realize what he’d walked on. Castiel, the broken angel, was crying in his bed, isolating himself from Sam and Dean. Dean’s inner turmoil became too great and his hard expression softened. Listening to Castiel suffering while awake was infinitely worse than listening to it while he slept. Dean heard another stifled intake of breath, and he felt his resolve finally crack in two like the demon tablet hitting the floor of the asylum. 

Dean sighed heavily. He pulled the covers back, making Castiel glance over at him. He watched in bleary-eyed confusion as Dean laid down beside him and stared resolutely at the wall opposite the bed.

Castiel didn’t know how to respond. It seemed not even the new, flighty Castiel knew what to say. So Castiel merely rolled back over and let Dean lay next to him in silence. The warmth of Dean’s side against his back was comforting, and Castiel’s quiet, breathy sobs soon subsided. 

“Dean…” he rasped.

Dean didn’t respond.

“I can’t… I can’t go with you,” he repeated.

“I’m not asking you to,” Dean grumbled. “Just get some sleep.”

Dean could tell by Castiel’s silence that he was even more confused, but for some reason Dean couldn’t speak. His throat felt constricted. Minutes passed before Castiel spoke again.

“Dean..”

Castiel’s voice sounded choked again, and Dean looked at him despite himself. He watched Castiel’s shoulder rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Dean stared impassively at the back of Castiel’s rumpled white shirt. He knew he wasn’t talking about Dick Roman anymore. For a brief moment, Castiel’s sadness filled him with selfish relief. It was the first time Dean felt a flutter of hope that Castiel was back. He felt his anger and fear dissolve, but in their wake flooded in a tidal wave of guilt. Dean had done nothing but treat Castiel like crap since he woke up, when he knew perhaps more than anyone else that Castiel was still in there.

Dean tried to reply, but he couldn’t get the words out. So instead, he moved the covers aside and put his arm under Castiel. Castiel didn’t seem able to ask questions. He let Dean roll him over and pull him into an embrace.

“It’s okay,” Dean said gently.

A rush of relief weakened Castiel and he broke into renewed sobs. He lay there against Dean’s chest, letting his tears run dry while Dean shushed him gently.

When Castiel had calmed enough to speak, he couldn’t help but go on. “I was trying to save Heaven, to save you, I tried… so hard… but nothing I did…” he hiccuped, shoulders shuddering.

“Cas,” Dean looked at him seriously, and Castiel was relieved to see that he no longer looked impassive. His eyes gleamed like a deep forest in the dimly lit room. “I forgive you.”

It took a long time for those words to sink into Castiel’s conscience. They seemed to ease Dean’s pain as much as Castiel’s.

Several long minutes passed as they lay comforting each other in the dead of night, on the eve of what could be their final mission. Dean suddenly didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in that bed with Castiel and never think of Leviathans or Dick again. He wanted to join Castiel in his isolation, quarantining himself from the world, or perhaps the world from himself. But he couldn’t. If there was anything in life that Dean was certain of, it was that he would never be able to stay behind, no matter who he had in bed with him.

Dean watched Castiel’s neck move as he breathed, his chest gently rising and falling beneath his shirt. He looked at Castiel’s hand resting in the folds of Dean’s shirt, and how their bodies leaned against each other where the blanket covered them. He could smell Castiel. He wondered why he never noticed what Castiel smelled like. It was such a human smell. Like sweat and earth, and something uniquely ‘Cas’. 

Castiel’s eyes were closed. Dean wondered if he had fallen asleep. A recklessness came over him in the safety of the dark bedroom, a need to express himself, a need to tell Castiel everything before it was too late, so Dean tipped his head down and kissed Castiel’s forehead.

Castiel didn’t stir, but when Dean moved away Castiel looked up at him. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked Castiel in the eyes. They were closer than they’d ever been, and Dean saw something all too familiar in their clear, blue depths: something vulnerable and human. Dean didn’t realize he was doing it until it was too late. Castiel watched him, unmoving, as Dean leaned in against him and kissed his lips.

For a moment they didn’t move, they just breathed against each other’s lips, and then Castiel’s eyes closed. He closed his lips over Dean’s, and Dean’s lips seemed to move of their own accord. He kissed Castiel slowly, gently, and he was surprised when he felt Castiel move his hand off of Dean’s chest and cradle Dean’s face. It was like Castiel couldn’t figure out if Dean was really there. Dean pulled Castiel closer under the covers and kissed him back into the pillows. When Castiel didn’t resist, but rather pulled Dean’s face closer, Dean opened the kiss and leaned into him.

It was as if Dean was trying to communicate every unspoken word into that kiss, every shout he’d refrained from, and at the same time every word of comfort. Castiel, who so rarely understood, seemed to be taking it in was surprising comprehension. It made Dean feel vulnerable, but in a new way. A way that didn’t frighten him or make him want to run. A way that brought him only closer to Castiel under those covers and made him kiss Castiel even deeper.

Despite the warmth spreading through his body, Dean’s mind was icy cold. He was all too aware that Castiel had spent the last few months in an incoherent state, and he began to pull back. But when Castiel felt the kiss begin to fade, he wove his fingers between Dean’s. The gesture was so sincere that Dean felt his heart swell and he looked at Castiel hesitantly. 

Their eyes met in the dimly lit room, and Dean found himself needing to explain.

“Cas…” he murmured, but no more words came to him. He suddenly felt helpless, unable to communicate. He realized, perhaps inappropriately that Sam would know what to say if it were him in bed with Castiel. Sam would be able to sort out his feelings and express them to Castiel. Sam would be able to treat Castiel right.

“I forgive you, too,” Castiel rasped.

Dean stared at him. In giving him the answer, Dean understood the question. His self-doubt and fear seemed to rise up, glowing like a soul released to heaven, and dissipated through the roof of the small bedroom. Dean didn’t need to say anything at all as he leaned back down and kissed Castiel.

It felt like an entire lifetime passed during that kiss, and yet Dean suddenly found himself moving again. Seconds later he was wedged between Castiel’s legs and kissing him deeply. His need was reciprocated as Castiel helped him remove his shirt. Castiel was warm and firm beneath him, with just the right amount of give, and Castiel kissed him encouragingly as they both stripped naked. Dean pulled Castiel’s bare chest against his own and revelled in the sensation. He’d seen Cas all but naked before. He’d pulled bullets and shrapnel out of Castiel’s body. Yet he’d never felt Castiel’s body like this: hot and pressing and moving against Dean’s. It felt like a dream.

Dean had never been so consumed with need before, and when he saw that need reflected in Castiel’s eyes Dean didn’t need to ask the question. Castiel shifted his legs to let Dean in, and soon Dean was sinking hot and raw into Castiel’s body.

Castiel gasped, but it was unlike any sound he’d made while dreaming. It wasn’t a gasp of pain or fear, it was a soft shock of pleasure. Dean wove their fingers together on the bed and Castiel squeezed his hand. Dean gave him a long, lingering kiss as they adjusted to the feel of each other, then Dean began slowly, passionately, making love to Castiel.

Castiel’s bedroom was once again full of the sounds of stifled pleas and heavy breaths, although this time Castiel wasn’t in pain. Dean panted along with him, their bodies moving as one. Dean couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. When Castiel’s head sank back into the pillows, no longer able to kiss Dean, Dean upped the pace and deepened his thrusts. Castiel rolled his hips instinctively and Dean groaned and buried his head in Castiel’s shoulder.

Their movements became hurried and desperate. Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand and murmured something Dean didn’t understand. Was it Enochian? Either way, Dean could tell Castiel was close. He could feel it in the way Castiel moved, in the way he tried and failed to grip Dean’s short hair. Dean moved his hand between them and stroked Castiel, and he knew it was all over

“Dean!”

Castiel came right there, his pleasure bursting forth in spurts. His eyes fell shut and his jaw dropped. Dean kissed him through his orgasm, and found his own not far behind. With Castiel undulating and gasping beneath him, he didn’t stand a chance. He pulled out just in time and moaned into Castiel’s shoulder as he pumped himself dry. 

To his surprise, he felt Castiel’s hand fumbling over his own. Dean let Castiel wrap his hand around Dean’s throbbing cock, so close to complete, and the contact alone pushed him over the edge. Dean found himself rocking his hips into Castiel’s hand to finish. Once it had passed, it felt like he’d been hit by a tidal wave. He collapsed beside Castiel, who put his arm beneath Dean and pulled him close. Dean didn’t mind one bit. He lay against him while their breathing slowed and their bodies came down from that perfect high.

Minutes passed before either of them spoke. Long, blissful minutes that neither wanted to end. They were hot and sweaty, and Dean could smell Castiel stronger than ever. He didn’t think he’d ever inhaled anything so divine.

“Dean…”

Castiel was so close to him that he barely had to move to make eye contact. Dean was relieved to see that Castiel looked as exhausted, and satisfied, as he did.

“Yeah, Cas.”

“What that… okay?”

Dean smiled. The muscles in his face felt alien to him. “That was great, Cas.” He murmured, leaning forward and kissing Castiel’s forehead. This time, Castiel smiled back.

Their smiles faded quickly, weighed down by the impossible task facing them the following day. Dean didn’t think he could stand to bring it up. Not after that. A part of him suddenly hoped he would die in the assault so that his last moment of happiness would be with Cas. The real Cas. Unanalyzed, unspoiled, nothing but bliss memory. But just as Dean decided he wouldn’t say anything about Dick, Castiel brought it up instead.

“Dean…”

Dean didn’t know how it happened, but he realized in that moment that he had learned what Castiel was about to say just by the way he said his name.

“I’ll go with you.”

Dean stared at him. A flicker of fear lit inside him, slowly eroding his post-orgasm bliss. The words took a few moments to hit him. At least he replied, “No. No, you said you wanted to stay here. So stay.”

“Dean…”

“If things go sideways tomorrow, at least I’ll know you’re safe.”

Castiel considered this. “And if I go with you, maybe things won’t go sideways.”

Dean gave him a penetrating look. He knew Castiel was right. Hell, he’d been pushing Castiel to go with all day long. But now it made the fear in him swell. A new kind of fear that made him almost regret what he’d just done.

“Cas…”

“I was afraid of going with you, because I was afraid I’d fail again,” Castiel admitted, “I was afraid of getting you hurt. But my place is, and always been, by your side.” 

Maybe it was because Castiel looked clearer than he had in years, but Dean didn’t contradict him. He didn’t want to. The words echoed in his head, making his heart swell. The fear hadn’t left him, but he kissed Castiel again and said, “Okay.”

Castiel gave him a small smile. There were so many things he wanted to say. So much time to make up for. But as Dean pulled him close, Castiel knew that somehow, everything would be okay.

After they both cleaned up, they got back into bed for a few hours of sleep. Neither of them dressed. Dean’s last thoughts as he drifted off were surprisingly free of fear and uncertainty, instead, a warm, relieving wash of joy. Whatever happened tomorrow, he and Castiel would face it side by side. And maybe, if they both survived, they could spend a lot more time together while awake.

[trollhunter94]

Listen Closely

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Others: Sam, Dean and Crowley

Warnings: Cannon Divergence, Swearing.

Words: 3.8K

A/N: Part 4 of the Castiel Soulmate series. Here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, __, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7. I want to thank you guys for sticking with me as this series develops, especially @sumara62 and her words of encouragement. 

Summary: A pit stop for the night allows you to get acquainted with your kidnappers and the mess that they’re dealing with. A quiet chat with Castiel allows him to get to know you… much more intimately.

Ten minutes of silence followed your outburst and the thumping against the back of your seat had thankfully stopped. You occasionally glanced up, feeling the tension disappear as the conversation between Sam and Dean began to flow again.

The subject of their conversation was ‘Dick’. You weren’t entirely sure whether they were talking in sexual innuendos or referring to a person. Either way, you had no idea what they were talking about, feeling even more lost and secluded.

Castiel had resumed the position of staring ominously out of the window, deep in thought and internal debate. Every twenty minutes or so, you would glance away from the scenery through your window to watch the Angel.

By the time Castiel next looked over at you, the car had driven hundreds of miles and the sun was beginning to set. As the car approached a local motel, Dean slowed down and signalled to turn in, causing Sam to look curiously at him. “Dean. We know where the trucks are gonna be. Why are you stopping?”

Dean pulled up into the parking lot and switched the ignition off. “Look, Sammy. I need to rest, okay? It’s been a long drive and some of us need our four hours".

“Uh, yes please” you sighed from the back seat, prompting all three of them to turn and look at you. “It’s settled then" Dean said, closing the debate. “Right, I’m gonna check us in. Two rooms should do it”.

Sam nodded in reluctant agreement, reaching to pick up his bag as you and Dean opened the car doors in unison. As you stepped out to the parking lot, you took in your surroundings as Dean strolled towards the building. The hotel was situated at the side of the interstate, cars speeding past and the smell of gas fumes thick in the air.

Two metallic clunking sounds were heard as Castiel stepped out the car, quickly followed by Sam, who walked over to the trunk. You edged closer, curious as to how they managed to trap a Demon in there. As Sam lifted the door, you noticed the white symbols and markings painted on it.

Crowley’s long-winded grunt was instantly heard as the fading sunlight filled the dark and stuffy trunk. He squinted, looking up at the two tall figures that towered above him. “Alright. Come on. Up you get”. Sam gripped Crowley’s arm and yanked him out.

“Uh, not so rough, Moose. I’m feeling delicate after that bumpy ride”. Sam took his jacket off and placed it over Crowley’s handcuffs before retorting back. "Shut up. Nobody cares about your comfort Crowley”.

As both men led him towards the motel, you followed behind and he began to plead to you. “You can’t let them do this to me. I have rights! Please, you have to help me. I’ll make it worth your while”.

Sam tugged on the special handcuffs, making Crowley jerk forwards. Castiel quickly swivelled around to advise you. “Don’t fall for his dirty tricks, Y/N. He’ll say anything to gain his freedom”. You silently nodded, wondering why they were holding him captive in the first place. Were these people the bad guys?

Meeting Dean in the walkway, he opened the door of room 24, where Castiel and Sam dragged the Demon inside. You began to follow but Dean quickly intercepted, placing an arm across the doorway. He turned the doorknob to 23, the next room over and gestured for you to enter.

“You’re in here with me love. We’re keeping you away from that ass-hat. Don’t trust a single thing he says, okay?” You quickly obliged, stepping into the room and inspecting the interior. It was a basic room, with two queen-sized beds, cable and magic fingers.

Half an hour had passed before the doorknob turned and the brothers came waltzing in, giving you nods of greeting as they wiped their feet and scanned the room. They shifted about, pulling items out of their bags and settling in. Sam pulled his laptop out of his bag as Dean took some items into the bathroom.

You tapped your hands on the table, unsure of what to do. You had no belongings with you anymore, no way of contacting home, so you decided to spark up a conversation. “So, what do you guys do exactly?”

Sam approached the table, placing his laptop down and perching on a chair. “We’re Hunters. Or at least we used to be. We kill monsters and save people from the supernatural”.

“Hunters?” you repeated back at him. “Hunting monsters?” He smirked with a look of familiarity at your scepticism, illustrating how many times he’s had to convince people that this other world existed. “Yep”.

You nodded your head, thinking that these people were just crazy. Why would any sensible person make a career out of this?

Dean came strolling out of the bathroom in the midst of brushing his teeth. “It’s true” he mumbled with a mouthful of toothpaste before strolling back out of sight. You took it with a pinch of salt. “Okay, so what do you guys do now?”

Sam answered you with a nonchalant attitude. “Not much, just saving the world from catastrophic threats”. You scoffed and then laughed at his words. “No, seriously?”

Dean walked back in, face stone cold and expressionless. “Seriously. We save the world. Multiple times now”. Your smile dropped, realizing that these guys were serious. They must be crazy.

“From what exactly?”

“Well”… Sam rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “We stopped Lucifer from bringing on the apocalypse”. Your eyes squinted, fully doubtful of this. “What, the actual apocalypse? As in, four horsemen, biblical damnation apocalypse?”

Both of them nodded their heads in agreement. You ran a hand down the side of your face before stroking your chin, trying to soak in this craziness. “So Lucifer is real? And he was here on earth, just roaming about?”

“He was topside”, Dean replied. “That was until Sammy here shoved his ass back into his cage”. He gave Sam a heavy pat on the shoulder, causing him to jump a little, crossing his arms. “The new threat is these slimy sons of a bitches. Leviathans”.

“Okay” you paused him with a hand gesture, trying to take in this information. “So Lucifer is gone, and the apocalypse was stopped, by you two?” They nodded their heads again before Dean interjected. “And Castiel, Bobby and some other good friends of ours”.

“That’s insane” you said, high pitched and full of disbelief. Sam huffed with amusement and uncrossed his arms. “Well, insane is kinda what we do”.

“Okay”, you nodded your head slowly in acceptance of these facts. “So, what are these Leviathans and why are they a threat?”

They looked at each other before Dean motioned for Sam to answer this question. “Okay, don’t freak out” he began, holding his hands up cautiously. “But they’re ancient creatures that broke out of purgatory and are basically trying to turn all humans into prime cattle”.

Your eyebrows knitted at his explanation. “What?”

Dean walked to the fridge, opening the door and grabbing a beer. “They’re tampering with the food supply. Trying to fatten us up like prized turkeys, making us non-resistant and easy to pluck”.

“But how can they do that?” You questioned them, brows furrowed and a hand raised in scepticism. “People won’t just accept this. Surely the powers that be have some say against this? The police? The government?”

Dean sat back down and leant forward slightly, keeping stern eye contact and lifting his hand. “Ever heard of Roman Industries?”

“Yeah”… You prompted him to continue. 

“Well, Dick Roman is their leader. He’s the one who’s funding this whole campaign”. You sat there shocked as Dean leaned back in his chair and took a swig of the beer.

This instantly cleared up the context of their conversation in the car earlier. You lowered your eyes, thinking about their current predicament, when a thought occurred to you. Looking back up at the two Hunters, you plead your case. “I can totally help you guys. Use me as bait or something”.

Dean glared at you before dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “Nope. Not happening. You’re staying here”.

Sam thought you were right to offer help. He began to convince his brother. “Dean, think about this for a minute. I mean, she can help us. We need as many boots on the ground as possible if we’re gonna beat these things”.

Dean shook his head in a blind refusal. “No Sammy, we can’t look after her and keep hold of Crowley. There won’t be enough time for any kind of error and if this shit goes sideways, we won’t get another chance to nail the bastard”.

Sam shifted his eyes in deep thought before shooting them straight back to Dean with an idea. “What if she and Cas deal with the warehouse and we take Crowley straight to Dick? Two birds with one stone”.

Dean’s face was portraying a blank disapproval. “What don’t you get about this Sam? She’s an untrained civilian. Placing her in the centre of this mess will only get her killed. She’d last two minutes in there, tops”.

You piped up, feeling underestimated and positive that you could be helpful to their cause. “Excuse me. She is right here. And I’m up for the task. Just tell me how to kill these things”. This was a chance be a part of something huge. A life-changing adventure and a chance to save the world!

Your enthusiasm made Sam smile. “See” he gestured to Dean. “She’ll be alright. We’ll just load her up on Borax”.

He picked up a large canister of cleaning product and placed it on the table. You read the label before looking at them sceptically. “That’s their weakness? Cleaning fluid?”

“Yeah, it literally melts their skin. It’s like a scene from Terminator” Dean said, failing to contain his excitement. The surprise of these facts slowly transitioned into realization, that this mission was actually achievable and sounded pretty bad-ass.

“Oh my God. Please let me come and fight? I want to do this. I can do this, guys. I’m ready”. The way you raised your hands pleadingly may have portrayed a hint of desperation but may have just played in your favour.

Dean raised a hand with caution. “Alright. Calm down, Calamity. Let’s not willingly jump at the chance of certain death”. His gaze quickly shifted to his brother. “Sam, are you sure about this?”

He knew from previous experience that this plan was going to fail, but the certainty that was portrayed on his little brother’s face, reminded him of how strong and resilient they were as a team. Besides, Castiel could take care of you better than him or Sam ever could.

A deep breath was followed by his surrender. “Alright. But I’m not happy about this plan”. His eyes moved from Sam to you with a pointed finger. “If you die, it’s not on me”.

“I’ll be alright” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I’ve got an Angel watching over me”. Dean’s eyes lifted to the doorway as he thought about his best friend. “Where is the brooding idiot anyway?”

Sam walked to the window, pulling back the thin, blue curtain to scan the darkness outside. “He’s out there, watching Crowley’s room“. He walked back to the table and tapped you on the shoulder.

“You know, you’ve really had an effect on him. He’s only usually like this when he’s feeling guilty or when Dean’s not speaking to him”.

Dean grumbled at this remark before agreeing with his brother. “Now you mention it, he has been acting weird. I mean, why did he touch your soul and not tell us about it? He said you passed out, back at the bunker”.

Something inside of you stirred at the mention of this. Why would he lie to his friends about what happened? There was something that he knew, and he wasn’t telling anyone.

You needed to see him. To talk to him. To clear this weirdness between you. Standing up, you told the brothers where you were going. “I’d better go talk to him. I feel bad about what happened earlier”.

You stepped outside of the room, looking in both directions and seeing Castiel perched on the wooden side walk.

Standing in the background quietly, you watched him for a few seconds, taking in his appearance. The way that his shoulders were hunched, his eyes transfixed to the palm of his hand as he consulted his thoughts.

Racking up the courage, you took a deep breath and walked up to him. His face softened as you approached, your presence pulling him from frazzled thoughts.

“Hi. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

He sat upright, switching his gaze from your dark figure, down to the spot beside him, then back up to you. “Not at all, please”.

You sat down and broke the awkward silence with an apology. “I’m sorry about kicking you, back in the car. It’s just a lot to take in, you know. Angels, Demons, Leviathans. I was an Atheist two days ago”.

He looked at you with an expression of relief before counteracting the apology. “It was understandable, seeing as I took you without your consent and invaded your personal space. I profoundly apologize for that”.

“Ah, it’s okay” you replied, taking in the surroundings of the car park. “I forgive you, for abducting me and the whole soul-touching thing". You swivelled round to face him as something important came to mind.

He watched closely as you raised a finger at him. "But if you ever put me to sleep like that again, I'll be forced to kick your ass". Castiel chuckled at your threat but nodded his head in agreement. His melancholic state began to change, the longer you were in his company.

You rubbed your hands together, trying to adjust to the cold breeze as you casually caught his gaze. “So, what are you doing out here?”

He stared off into the distance before glancing down at his clutched hands. “I’m just thinking about Heaven”. Castiel was thinking about how simpler things were, only a decade ago. In Heaven, he was surrounded by his family and was certain of his role.

You looked up at the night sky, thinking about it. “I bet it’s amazing up there. Why would you even leave in the first place?” He gave you the simple answer. “It was my mission to save Dean from the depths of Hell and to help him to fulfil the prophecy of revelations”.

“Yeah, Dean just mentioned that” you said, shifting on the bench. “But you guys stopped it, right? So, why did you stick around and not go back?” 

Castiel let out a heavy sigh. How could he explain everything to you? How Lucifer reduced him to a pile of dust, yet somehow, he was still here. The fact that the Angels conspired to bring forth the apocalypse or were fighting for power in Heaven.

“Heaven is not what it used to be” he stated with a hint of warning. “Without our father’s presence upstairs, the Angels split into factions and a civil war ensued. I lost a large number of my brothers and sisters in the Garrison”.

This instantly crushed the thought that Heaven was a peaceful sanctuary, where everything was clouds and rainbows. Now, it was a battlefield for Angels and Castiel was feeling the loss of his family. “I’m sorry to hear that. Family fights are the worst” you said, trying to be sympathetic.

“Yes” he agreed. “But the Winchesters have taught me more about family in the last few years, than the millennia spent in Heaven”. Your eyes widened at the sudden realization of how old he was. Too old to comprehend.

This brought your thoughts back to that awkward moment in the car. How one touch of his feathers had sparked arousal through the both of you. Had Castiel even had any experience of love or relationships?

“What about you?” he asked, gently brushing his shoulder against yours, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s it like, a day in the life of Y/N?”

Your eyes shifted from his kneecaps over to the cars that rushed past on the interstate, not feeling very eager to talk about yourself. Nothing you could say could even start to compare to the exciting life of a Hunter or an Angel.

“Yeah, there’s not much to tell you really. I’m... a normal Human, I guess. I eat, sleep, work and just live my life, you know?”

His head tilted sideways sympathetically. “I don’t believe that is true. You’re not like any other human I’ve encountered, Y/N. There’s something special about you”. Your shoulders instinctively shrugged with an accompanied scoff. “If there is, then I’m yet to discover it”.

Castiel knew for sure that there was a deeper meaning behind this bond between you. Back at the bunker, when he stuck his fist through your chest and touched your soul, he felt it for sure. It was a pure and Angelic experience for him; the equivalent of 'love at first sight'.

But he was yet to know why. Why it was you. Maybe the answer was stored in the deepest recesses of your memory. But how to access this information? The old Castiel would take it without asking, but things were different now. That would only make things worse.

“Would you permit me to read your mind?”

You inched backwards sceptically as soon as he lifted a hand. The gesture bringing recollection of pain and fear. “I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea”.

The look of hurt was evident on his face, from the fact that you didn’t trust him enough to know that he would never intentionally hurt you. At least not now, knowing what you were to him.

He lowered his head again, filling with a sense of disappointment and regret. “I would never hurt you, Y/N. I do not wish to cause you pain or distress”. You knew he meant these words, deep down. Ever since you crashed into him, back in that elevator, all he’s ever done is to try and keep you close to him. Maybe that’s just his way of keeping you safe.

The guilt started to spread again, for denying him the chance to rummage through your mind, where your secrets, private thoughts and desires were buried.

It was only rational to think like this. If anything, you should be mad at him. For keeping the truth from you, for lying to his friends and for even bring you here in the first place. But a small part of you wanted him to know you, who you really were and what goes on in your mind.

“Okay”.

That one word filled the silence between you, causing his head to shoot upwards. He looked at you cautiously, eyes wide and unblinking. “What?”

Taking a deep breath, you set out your boundaries. “You can read my mind, as long as you stay away from the private stuff in there, you know? That’s not something I really want to share”.

He smiled at you, face illuminated with the hope of knowing you better. “Of course. If you feel me enter somewhere you don’t want me, just imagine a door shutting in front of it”.

You shifted on the bench to face him, sitting upright and letting him know that you were ready. “Okay, I’ll try. Let’s do this”. He lifted his hand up to your face with the softest expression, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead.

The anticipation was making you nervous, giving him a weak smile and fumbling with your hands. “This is so weird. I can’t believe I’m letting you do this”.

“Just relax” he advised, moving his left hand to cup the side of your face, and that anticipated touch of skin-on-skin was no longer electrifying. Instead, a tranquil wave of energy filled the space inside of your head. Your shoulders dropped at the soothing sensation.

His soft and warm fingers rested gently against your temples as he accessed the stream of neurons in your temporal lobe. The pictures of thousands of memories came rushing to him like a homemade movie. Your first steps, the first time you ate a lemon, your childhood home, your family and that time you almost wet yourself from hysterical laughter.

His lips curved upwards into a smile. “Such happy memories in there… Your thoughts are so… beautiful”. His eyes flickered behind his eyelids as he accessed what you were thinking at this moment:

What am I doing here? With an Angel, who is so fucking hot. Just look at that face, those wings. Stop it. That’s so wrong, Angels and Humans. Wasn’t that shit forbidden by God? It would probably make him angry, or guarantee a one-way ticket to hell… But he chose me, the only human to see his wings. At least I think he likes me. Why else would he bring me here?

The confliction was tearing at you from every direction.

You suddenly remembered that he could see everything that you were thinking as it unfolded. Quickly picturing a door like he’d told you; rounded and made of dark mahogany, you slammed it shut in the forefront of your mind. Castiel watched as this door closed before him, shutting him out of your head.

His immediate reaction was shock to know that you feel the same attraction too, followed by an acceptance of his earlier doubts. These feelings he has for you and this rare connection was wrong, and even you knew it.

His father did decree, many centuries ago, that Angels were no longer allowed to procreate with any daughter of Eve. The risk of a Nephilim being born was too high and would once again, bring the wrath of Heaven.

He wanted you to know the depth of his affection though. As much as his head was telling him to walk away, his heart was urging to reach out and show affection.

Reaching out and gently opening your hand, he placed an object against your palm before closing your fingers around it. Every press of his fingers against yours, warm and welcoming.

Before you could formulate a thought, he scooted forward and stood up, his tall figure blocking the light from the street lamp behind. His shoulders dropped with a sense of sadness as his head tilted in your direction. “Goodnight Y/N”.

Awkwardness held the moment as you wanted to explain to him, why you had thought the way you did. But he was quick to leave you, sat alone on the bench and wondering where it all went wrong.

You opened your hand to inspect the object that he had placed there. It was a red, paper heart. A piece of origami. A symbol of his endearment.

Thanks for reading. Here’s Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Tags:

@uselessace @superheavymetalunicorn  @eziggyra

[deanssweetheart23]

Always

Title: Always (MOC!Dean. Part 1)

Summary: Dean didn’t really know what being in love felt like until he met her; the girl with the soulful eyes and the brilliant smile that waltzed into his life when he was twenty-four and ended up being his entire world. So, he stood by her through thick and thin, until one day, he realized that the only way to keep her safe was to keep her away from him. But would he really be able to let her go?

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: MOC!Dean x reader, Castiel (briefly), Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Metatron (all briefly mentioned)

Word count: 4849

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Very light smut (trust me guys, it’s very light). Language. Mentions of death, loss of parents, grief, mentions of tortures and blood (nothing graphic). 

Author’s Notes: This is my sumbission for @thevioletthourr Fif’s Milestone Challenge. Fif, thank you so much for letting me participate and for granting me the extension I needed, I fell in love with this story and wanted to do it justice. 

Special thank you to @ravengirl94 for reading parts of it over for me and being such an amazing friend. If it weren’t for her support, I wouldn’t have finished this story.. 

My prompt for this fic was Save Yourself by Kaleo (which is the most beautiful song ever and has Dean’s name all over it). The story is set during S10 (right after ep.10, “The Hunter Games”). Original flashbacks and some Metatron lines from the show are included in italics. (Oh, and part 2 wil be posted in late September).

Again, thank you all for bearing with me. Enjoy <3

Dean had always loved moments like this.

He loved holding Y/N close, loved the way their heartbeats vibrated in each other’s bones, the way he could trace veins and scars and freckles with his fingertips or his mouth or his tongue, the way her skin felt against his, solid muscles blending with softness.

He loved the quietness of the room, how it was painted in even breaths and dusty promises, the dim-light of the star-freckled sky sneaking through the open windows and skating down Y/N’s form, just smudges of glow on bare skin.

“So,” Y/N’s voice interrupted his train of thoughts as Dean kept her tucked against him, all fingers and thumbs and lips, “are you going to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”

“Like what exactly, sweetheart?”

Turning to look at him, she perched herself on one elbow, big, wide eyes sweeping over every feature of his face gingerly.

“Like I’m…” Deep breath. “Like I’m going to vanish into thin air.”

And Dean wanted nothing more than to tell her the truth, to kiss her lips and let all the things that were hurting him come tumbling out of his mouth, to wrap himself around her all over again and never let go but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because he knew what the right thing was, and he loved her too much to get her killed and it was too goddamn late.

So, instead, he pressed his lips on her forehead in a sweet kiss, then pulled away and smiled at her, looking for love and redemption into her Y/E/C orbs.

“No reason…” he whispered, rumbling into her hair. “I just…”

I need you.

I’m going to miss you.

I’m sorry.

I’ll never be the same without you.

“I love you. You know that, right?” he said at last, wrecked and scraped and just a bit shadowy.

She smiled.

It twisted the knife deeper into his already shattered heart.

“I love you too.” She told him, lacing her fingers with his. “Always.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “yeah, I know, kid.”

She grinned at him then, warm and pleased and relieved, stretching up to kiss him, and he sank into it and kissed her like he’d never kissed her before, praying for the moment to last.

It didn’t.

When they broke off, breathless and sated, she looked at him once more, brows furrowed into a deep frown and forehead puckered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she implored and he swore he could hear the concern bleeding into her voice.

And he should have said no, should have stopped himself from lying to her again, but he had no other choice.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” He replied, kissing her brow. “Now stop worrying so much and just lemme hold you.”

Chuckling a bit at his words, she let out a content sigh and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in until she couldn’t keep her eyelids open anymore, not knowing that Dean laid awake next to her, her vow echoing soundlessly in his mind.

I love you too.

Always.

And it was nothing but a small utterance, seven letters set in arbitrary order, but the sound of it falling from her lips made Dean’s soul ache and he knew.

That word was going to haunt him forever.

“Are these fuzzy shocks?” Dean cackled with a gapped mouth stare, pointing towards Y/N’s feet, clad in a pink pair of punch socks.

“Yup.”

“You wear fuzzy socks to bed?”

“Do you want me to put the freezing feet on you again?” Y/N asked, head titled and fingers spread.

“Nope.”

“Then, yes, I’m wearing fuzzy socks to bed.” She told him, lifting her chin. “Now scoot over.”

The eldest Winchester chuckled at her words, mumbling a breathless yes, ma’am under his breath, and watched as she climbed into the covers and laid on her side to face him, bright orbs peering at him through long eyelashes while she clutched at the blanket they were supposed to share.

God, she was beautiful.

“This is okay, right?”

It was soft and sweet, a genuine concern that sunk into his skin and made him feel lightheaded and he realized, maybe for the first time, that he wasn’t the only one who felt that pull between them, that flooring and fascinating spark.

She felt it too and he wasn’t ready to give that up.

So, he let his fingers skim across her hipbone, and pulled her just a little closer, half-smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“More than, sweetheart. I’m just…” he sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying to collect his seemingly scattered thoughts, “I still don’t know how to thank you for tagging along.”

“Don’t. I’m here because I want to, D.”

“I know but-”

“No buts. You’re… We’re gonna figure this out together.” She promised and he beamed at her, actually beamed, awe and wonder floating across his face.

“Kid, I don’t know what I’ do without you.”

“Well,” she started, lips twitching in delight, “you’d get laid, for one thing.”

He laughed at that, rich and loose, eyes sparkling with golds and greens in the dim light of the room.

“Hey, I’m serious. That chick at the bar just wouldn’t stop staring.”

“Yeah, I kinda like you better.” He whispered softly, playfulness and honesty blending in his tongue as he raked his fingers through her hair. “Must be the socks.”

She smiled at him then, that lively smile Dean couldn’t stop thinking about, and he drank in the breathy whispers and the tousled limbs and the way her soulful Y/E/C eyes shined brighter than anything he’d ever seen before, and he thought that, yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

She was beautiful when she was asleep.

Granted, she was always beautiful, but the way she looked when youth and serenity took over, innocent smiles and steady heartbeats clothing her, made Dean’s heart swell with nothing but love and tenderness, because she trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, trusted him enough to feel content and safe in his arms.

The thought wrapped around his heart like a poisonous vine and drained all its blood, leaving cells hollow and atoms weathered and, for a moment, he let himself wonder what would happen if he changed his mind, if he woke her up and told her the truth.

She’d be pissed at him, he was sure. She’d yell and curse and call him names for thinking that he could just walk away like that, but she wouldn’t stay mad at him for too long.

She’d understand.

She always did.

When he sold his soul for his brother, she understood. When he laid awake at nights after Sam jumped into the pit to save the world, staring at the ceiling in silence, she understood. When he was angry and mad and thirsty for revenge after Dick Roman killed Bobby, she understood. When he brought Benny back with him from Purgatory, when he agreed to take the Mark of Cain to kill Abaddon, when he faced Metatron on his own, she understood, no matter how hard and painful it was.

So, she would understand now too. She’d wrap her arms around him, and kiss the corner of his mouth and tell him that they’d figured it out together like they had done so many times in the past and then she’d whisper to him that she loved him and had chosen him and would do it all over again if she had to.

He wouldn’t have to go.

He wouldn’t have to leave her.

She wouldn’t have to have her heart broken.

But real life didn’t work that way.

His life didn’t work that way.

Not with all the blood in his hands, all the people he’d lost through the years, family and friends that were careless enough to believe in him.

Metatron was right; the Mark was changing him.

He could feel it.

He could feel its darkness seeping into his skin, its evilness rushing through his veins, turning him into a monster he didn’t want to be.

It was always there in alarmed glances Sam threw his way when things got a bit out of hand, in the silent stares of Castiel, in the blood-soaked memories of the massacre in Randy’s house, in the images of Y/N cradling his stained body in the shower like she was his only thing keeping him human, breathless reassurances and we’re going to be okays dancing in the air between them.

It was always there and Dean knew it wouldn’t go away no matter how much Y/N or Sam or Cas wanted it to.

And so he’d do the one thing he still trusted himself enough to do.

Keep Y/N safe.

At all costs.

Warm lips brushed against Dean’s clothed shoulder-blade as Y/N wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her face into the fabric, breathing in the scent of whiskey and cinnamon soap and Dean.

“I thought I’d find you here.” She sighed, squeezing his middle.

“Hmmm,” Dean craned his neck to peck her temple softly, “smell good, sweetheart.”

“You always say that, D.”

“You always smell good.” He retorted and turned around to face her, arm wounding around her waist while he latched his lips onto her neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin there, humming in satisfaction. “And taste even better.”

“Jeez, Dean, you’re such a perv.”

“And yet, you keep me around.” He smirked, threading his fingers into her hair.

“Yeah, cause I need someone to open all the jar lids for me.”

“Smartass.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “What are you doing up anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She replied, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt and Dean’s heart sank into his chest because he knew what that meant.

“Woke you up again, didn’t I?” he implored, low and gruff at the back of his throat.

“It sounded really bad this time, D.”

Shaking his head, he let his hand slid down her arm gently and gripped at her fingers.

“’M fine, kid.”

She hummed in response, something sarcastic.

“What? I am. The nightmares are just,” he breathed out through his nose, muscle flaring along his jaw, “they sound worse than they are.”

“Do they? Because you’ve been…” she let out a deep breath, gnawing on her bottom lip. “You barely sleep anymore, Dean. And I know you keep saying you’re alright and that you don’t remember Hell but I-”

“Kid,” he pleaded, every emotion he’d managed to keep under wraps for the past month threatening to spill into his voice, “don’t… Don’t go there.”

“Okay.” She told him, and he nodded and breathed in a whose, kissing their joined hands. “But, just…” she clasped the side of his face, gentleness and desperation burning beneath her fingertips, “nothing can scare me away.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t know the things I… I can’t-”

“I don’t care.” She insisted, running her thumb over his bottom lip. “D., I love you. Always.”

He smiled.

It was bitter-sweet, brittle with unshed tears and unspoken confessions that bled into his mind at night, strapped with gratitude and selflessness and awe for the girl that took in scars and wounds and bruises and only gave back love.

It was hers.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, pulling her tight against him, heartbeat trapped within hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” She protested, silky words caressing his clothed skin. “You do deserve happiness, Dean, maybe more than anyone else I’ve ever known. I just wish you could see that.”

“Yeah. Me too, kid.” He said, rumbling into your hair. Then. “C’mon. We should get you back to bed.”

“Actually. I got a better idea.” She stated and looked up, jamming her hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “When was the last time the two of us took a ride together?”

“A ride?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, mischief coating her features. “No direction. No plans. Just you, me, Baby and the open road.” A pause. “Okay. Maybe even Ben King with because we both know how much you love Stand By Me.”

“You love that song.”

“We both love that song.” She retorted, smiling her most wonderful smile. “So. What do you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.” He agreed and ducked in to kiss her lips sweetly.

And when she kissed him back and breathed in against it all, lips moving against his like that was what they were always meant to do, hand sliding up the muscles of his back to hold him, feel him next to her, solid and safe and real, he realized that, no matter what life chose to throw their way, the two of them would be just fine.

Dean was going to miss her.

He’d miss the breathy laughs and the brilliant smiles, the lazy morning kisses and those arms that wrapped around him and gripped like they were trying to put all of his broken pieces back together.

He’d miss her warmth, and the way she bit on her bottom lip when she was trying to concentrate, the nights he’d spend watching her read her favorite book, the way she argued with him about westerns, or how her face would light up every time he brought home sunflowers to surprise her.

He’d miss her acceptance and her love and the way she tucked herself against him at nights, a quiet reassurance that he’d never be alone in the world again.

But most of all, he’d miss his home, the home he never thought he’d have, the home that was etched around her smile and her eyes and her.

“Dean,” a deep voice called, prompting the hunter to turn around and look for the incoming sound only to find Castiel standing a few feet away from him, arms slack at his sides.

“It’s time.”

Dean’s heart sank within his chest.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, hands squeezing into fists, white-knuckled, “yeah. Just give me a minute.”

“You know,” Cas started, taking a few tentative steps towards his friends, “you can still stop this.”

Dean blinked and swallowed, hard.

“I can’t. She’s...” he sighed and glanced at the girl that was sleeping soundly on the bed, the girl he loved with everything he had. “She’s my entire life, man. I can’t just… I’ll get her killed.”

“Y/N doesn’t believe that.”

“Cas-”

“She’d never forgive you.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean cackled, brittle and sad as he rubbed his forehead, “that’s not really going to matter in a few minutes, is it?”

“No. It isn’t.” The angel agreed stoically.

A pause and then-

“Are you sure?”

And Dean wanted to tell him that he wasn’t, wanted to scream and break things and call the entire plan off, wanted to put Y/N in Baby with him and just drive, away from Kansas and from Metatron and everything that had ever hurt them but then he saw the Mark that burned across his skin and he remembered.

That greater good thing just went away, didn’t it? Now, people die just because you want them to.

He remembered how dark and red it turned every time he couldn’t control his bloodlust, remembered the throbbing pain of it pumping through his veins.

Kevin’s death? All on you. You put him in harm’s way and kept him there.

He remembered Claire’s terrified look, remembered how she’d stared at him like he was a monster before breaking into sobs in front of Randy’s lifeless body.

Gadreel possessing Sam? Who was it that tricked Sam into letting him in?

He remembered the desperation that had stained Sam’s voice while he called his name, remembered the defeat and the denial and the pure heartache in it.

Dean Winchester, whose entire existence is defined by a war on the dark and monstrous, bromancing his way around the country with the king of Hell.

He remembered thinking that he’d lost a part of him in that house that night, that things would never go back to the way they used to be.

I love you too.

Always.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw until it hurt.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”

Froth-laced waves rolled up the shoreline and mingled with the white sand beneath Dean’s feet, enveloping him in a scent of seafoam and washed-out kelp.

The water was cold, even though it was a warm day painted in endless blue, sky pristine and the sea speckled with golden rays of light, and yet, all Dean could see was the girl walking next to him, dressed in a black swimsuit that unveiled smoothness he’d spent years of his life memorizing, eyes glistening under the morning sun.

“So,” she said, brushing her palms together, soft smile gracing her lips, “pasta or seafood?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m trying to figure out where we’re going to eat for dinner.” She explained, matter-of-fact, as she gnawed on her bottom lip. “So. Pasta or seafood?”

“Hmmm…” He scratched the back of his neck in thought. “Burgers.”

“Seriously? We have burgers all the time.”

“And?”

“And this trip is all about discovering new things.”  

A hum.

Eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Right. You want to go to that Italian place in the middle of nowhere, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She smiled, looking up at him through her lashes. “Please?”

“Sweetheart-”

“Dean, please. Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” She whined sweetly, hands clasped in that way she knew he found adorable, puppy dogs on and, dammit, she was cute.

So, he let out a low groan and reached out for her hand, rolling his eyes so hard that he was afraid he’d never be able to blink again.

“Fine.” He gritted, running a hand over his jaw. “But I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Don’t worry, D., I’m not gonna make you dress like a fed to go out for dinner.” She kissed the corner of his mouth warmly, triumph and mischief coating her features as she mumbled a thank you under her breath.

“You got me on a string, you know that?” he groaned, arm wounding around her waist to pull her closer to him.

“Yes.” She beamed. “But you love it.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, heart swelling with affection and tenderness.

“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing up against the softness of her wrist, “yeah, I really do.”

Her face broke into that breathless smile he loved so much then, the one that reminded him of aged whiskey and freshly baked cherry pie, and of home and he leaned in and pecked her lips swiftly, all sweetness and warmth.

“So,” he cleared his throat, nuzzling the crook of her neck “just out of curiosity. You’re not afraid of the ocean anymore, are you?”

“Nope, not anymore. Why would you –Dean, don’t you dare.”

But it was too late.

Dean had already thrown her over his shoulder and was now waist-deep into the water, crazy laughter spilling from his lips as she let empty threats and colorful insults smack his skin.

And then-

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you dick.” Y/N bellowed after she’d been tossed inside, treading saltiness until her feet reached the bottom of the sea again.

“Always such a smart mouth, sweetheart.” Dean smirked, swimming up to her.

“Shut up.”

More laughter.

“I hate you.”

“C’mere.” He whispered, fingers wrapping around her wrist as he pulled her sun-kissed body to his.

His large hand clasped the side of her face.

“You’re cute when you roll your eyes like that.”

“Am not.”

Dean hummed at that, gaze flickering over her features swiftly, then pressed his salty lips to hers, thumb smoothing over her jaw as he worked her tongue into her, smirking a bit when he felt her whimpering into his mouth.

“Beautiful, sweetheart.” He rasped out against her neck, titling her head back so he could have better access. “So beautiful.”

Letting out a small whimper, Y/N tugged at his hair but he only chuckled a little under his breath and let his lips suck and lick at her throat, while his calloused fingers slid down her back and hooked under her top, expertly pulling at its strings until the fabric was all gone and he could see, could feel all of her, pressing up against his bare chest.

“D., what are you-”

“Just,” he breathed, eyes darting up and down her body, all amazement and want. “Shit, kid, just lemme…”

And then he was cupping her butt and had her hoisted into his arms, refusing to put her down until they’d reached a raft he’d seen earlier in a secluded section of the beach.

“You know,” she gasped when he pressed his forehead to her temple, blanketing over her, “this is how people actually go to jail.”

“No, it’s not. No one ever comes here.” Dean breathed into her ear, fingers hooking under the waistband of her swimsuit.

“Yeah, but what if-”

“Stop,” kiss, “worrying,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “much.”

“’M just saying,” she chuckled, palming the back of his neck, “we do have a car.”

“Don’t care.” He whispered, mouth up her jaw. “Want you.” He whispered and kissed her again slow and desperate and full, until she breathed her consent into his mouth.

And so, he let his hands smooth down her skin, let his fingers explore curves and edges and strands of hair like it was the first time, and while he had her whimpering underneath him, panting and giving and taking, he realized that, despite the nightmares and Purgatory and the tablets, despite everything, he was the luckiest man on Earth.

Dean didn’t kiss her goodbye.

He told himself that it was because he didn’t want to risk waking her up, but, really, he knew that he was afraid that if he allowed himself to have her like that one more time, he’d never be able to let go.

So, instead, he stole one last glance, a moment of absolute serenity that would stand still in his memory forever, and left, wondering, vaguely, whether that heart-shattering pain that had plugged itself deep into his chest would ever go away.

He didn’t think so.

Kneading his shoulders, he pondered calling his brother to see how he was holding up when-

“It’s done.” Castiel said, suddenly in front of him, all gruffness and resentment. “Y/N no longer remembers you.”

His stomach plummeted, his heart broken mosaic he’d never be able to repair.

He nodded.

“Good.” He rasped out, lungs clenching.

“Dean,-”

“I need a moment.”

“Dean, I-”

“I said I need a moment.” Dean growled, harsher than he intended to.

He tried to ignore the lone tear that slid down his face.

There was no reason for him to cry anymore.

It was over.

Soft, feather-light kisses landed on Y/N’s naked body, while she laid on her stomach, sprawled over across the bed, crisp white sheets hanging low on her hips.

Dean was pressed up against her, body perfectly tucked against her own, and he was landing kisses everywhere, from the column of her neck, to her shoulder-blades, down her spine and on the deepest arch of her lower back.

“That tickles.” She pouted after a few minutes, rolling over to face him.

“Well, good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” He chuckled, hands smoothing down her sides as he ducked in to kiss her, soft and fragile like spur sugar, a quick morning kiss that was over as soon as it started.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, nose nudging up against his, “I missed this.”

And he knew that she didn’t mean to, but her words sliced deeper into already open wounds, and he sighed and had to look away for a second, shame and guilt hot in the air between them.

“I know. And I –look, I know we’ve already talked about this but I-”

“Dean, I swear to God if you apologize one more time, I’m actually going to punch you.” She warned, brandishing a finger at him.

He chuckled then, bitter and wrecked, and rolled over his side to sit up against the headboard, watching as she did the same thing.

“Last night, when you knocked on my door, I thought… I thought you were going to leave me.” He stated, jaw clenched painfully.

“I…Leave you?”

“Yeah. And quite frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed you, Y/N.”

“Dean-”

“No. Kid, the things I put you through…  I almost killed you, for fuck’s sake.”

“But that wasn’t you.” Y/N retorted, running her fingers through her messed up hair in frustration. “I knew that. And I’m not saying that it was always easy to remember it or that it didn’t hurt to see you acting like a complete douchewad but I knew.”

He nodded and stayed silent for one, two, three long bits but then-

“I didn’t,” he croaked, shoulders sagging, “I hope you know that I never slept… I couldn’t-”

“I know. And you’re not… You’re not going to lose me.” She stated and crawled on top of him, knowing that he wanted, needed to feel her close to him, legs straddling his hips. “I’m not leaving, D. I love you.”

He drew in a sharp breath at that and pressed his forehead against hers, hands coming to cup her face.

“God, I’m so…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I love you, sweetheart. I love you so damn much.” He whispered and pressed his mouth against hers, all urgency and need, tongue and lips and breaths working together to cherish everything she had to give until he couldn’t take it anymore and let himself relish in warmth and softness and love.

And despite his evident heartache and desperation, he took it slow as he slipped into her that time, took it slow as he cradled her into his chest and whispered nothing but words of love into her ear, because he wanted to feel everything, and when she rocked her hips into his and let her head fall onto his shoulder, he realized, God, there in her arms, with her fingers combed into his hair and her eyes locked on his, he realized that he’d never felt more alive.

Dean stopped by her room again.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do it, promised himself he’d just drive off but it was almost impossible to ignore that the woman he’d spent most of his life with, the one he loved with every single beat in his heart, was only a few rooms away.

So, he sneaked in, soul scarred and heart heavy with the realization that it was the last time he’d ever see her and he almost broke, right there in the middle of the room.

And that was when it really hit him.

Τhe naked woman sleeping on the bed was no longer his Y/N.

She didn’t remember him.

She didn’t remember the first time they met, how she waltzed into the warehouse and saved Dean’s life, all confidence and skills.

She didn’t remember the nights they spent curled up in the same bed, whiskey-laced breaths and whispered childhood stories their only company.

She didn’t remember their first kiss, how their lips danced together, slow and soul searing, how she’d stolen Dean’s breath away because she was everything he had imagined and so much more.

She didn’t remember the first time they made love and their first I-love-yous  and their late night drives and the heated arguments and the bone-crushing hugs and the plans they made for the future.

She didn’t remember the Christmas night they’d spent dancing barefoot in the dark, because she was tipsy and he’d sold his soul and they were both terrified their end was near.

She didn’t remember she loved him.

She didn’t remember he loved her more than he’d ever loved anything in his god-forsaken life.

They’d fought for each other over and over again, they tried and they bled and they cried and vowed they’d always be together, and now, now they were at the end of the line and he was nothing but a stranger to her, a meaningless name, just another face in the crowd.

His bottom lip trembled, hot tears brimming within his eyes.

He walked past her, past the room, past people that looked at him like he was the four-year-old child that’d lost his mother all over again, all curiosity and pity, and got into his car.

Her scent still lingered in the air, on his skin, on the leather seat.

He took a deep breath and turned on the radio.

If the sky that we look upon

Should tumble and fall

Or the mountains should crumble to the sea.

Another tear slid down his face but he didn’t wipe it off as he let the familiar melody cut him, an autumn night filled with breathless praises and soft moans in the backseat of his car ringing clear into memory.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry,

No, I won’t shed a tear

Just as long as you stand, stand by me.

His foot pressed down the accelerator and he drove off.

This time he didn’t look back.  

Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @escabell @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trexrambling @keepcalmandcarryondean @impala-dreamer @percywinchester27 @wordstothewisereaders @imagining-supernatural @emilywritesaboutdean @atari-writes @kathaswings @pickupthatamulet @becs-bunker @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @dancingalone21 @spngeronimo @ruprecht0420 @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @wellthatsrandomkek @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @winchestersnco @jayankles @winchesters-flannels @akshi8278 @thevioletthourr @tiny-friggin-human @becominglionhearted @hannahindie @mandilion76 @polina-93 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange-juice @ravenangel33 @holahellohialoha @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @atc74 @juanitadiann @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba

Always Tags: @shamelesslydean @michellethetvaddict 

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Indecent Proposal Author: Darmys Asagiri Artist: sketchydean Rating: Explicit Pairings: Dean/Cas Warnings/Tags: #No Archive Warnings Apply, #Movie AU, #But the movie was gross so I changed it, #Dean is only maybe a prostitute but Lisa is definitely a pimp, #It's not cheating if it's an open relationship, #Roman is a dick, #I took Dean to the Grand Canyon, #Babylon 5 reference because I wanted to, #Tags are subject to change prior to uploading on AO3 Posting Date: 11/27/2017

Summary:  Dean and Lisa have been living together for a year. Dean works as a mechanic and studies architecture at night, while Lisa works full time as a real estate broker but dreams of becoming a yoga instructor.  When they win a trip to Las Vegas they hope, with some luck, they can change their financial situation and live the life they have always dreamed about. Instead, they meet a powerful billionaire, Castiel Novak, who makes them an offer – one million dollars for one night with Dean. 

- - - 

“Cassie, when was the last time you took something you wanted?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I have everything I need, and I only buy things that I want.” Castiel had hoped to get time away from his brother; However, Gabriel had tracked him down.

“No, you have what is expected of you to have. When was the last time you looked at something, and you just wanted it, for no other reason than you want it?”

“Yesterday.”

Gabe spluttered the mouthful of mimosa he’d just taken. “You did? That’s great! What was it? Let’s go buy it.”

“He’s over there, with his wife,” Castiel pointed. “You can't buy people Gabriel.”

“That's naive, Cassie. I buy people every day.” Gabe reached for another strawberry, watching the couple on the other side of the pool thoughtfully

Castiel took his eyes off the man he’d been watching for the last hour. “In business, maybe, but you can't buy people when real emotions are involved.”

“So you're saying you can't buy love? That's a bit of a cliché don't you think?” Gabe grinned.

“It's absolutely true.” Castiel didn’t like where Gabriel’s mind was headed.

“As true as seeing a man across a pool and thinking you’re in love with him?” Gabe asked. “Because lust is always for sale.”

“Stop! Stop whatever you think you are going to do.” Castiel shifted in his lounge chair to face his brother fully. “They’re a couple, Gabe. They don’t know you, they are not related to you, and they did not sign up for your games.”

“I can’t remember the last time you were interested in someone.” Gabriel looked his brother in the eyes. “You don’t even think he can be bought. So what’s the harm in me trying?”

“It’s vulgar, Gabe,” Castiel sighed. He knew Gabriel wouldn’t give up now the idea had taken root. “Fine, but if you’re going to make me do this, then I’m going to be the one to do it.”

“Can I at least stay and watch? If she slaps you in the face, I’d like to be a witness.” Gabe pulled a pair of opera glasses seemingly out of thin air.

“Where did you –” Castiel started, then changed his mind. “Why do you even have those here?”

“You never know when there is going to be a show. Besides, you’re the one who is always telling me to be prepared.” Gabe stood up and moved to the sheer curtains. “Look, I’ll even pull these so they won’t be able to see me watching.” He tugged on the white ribbons.

“I’m not doing it here. If I have to do this, and I’m only doing this to stop you from doing something worse,” Castiel emphasized, “I’ll do it when everyone is fully clothed. This is not a bathing suit conversation.”

Gabriel dropped back onto his recliner. “Spoilsport. But if you haven’t indecently propositioned him by lunchtime tomorrow, I’m doing it for you.”

[fanfic-from-a-67-impala]

A Supernatural x Reader Story GIF Imagines MASTERLIST

These are all of the GIF imagines based on my reader insert fic, A Supernatural x Reader Story. Since the story is so long, I decided to take the funniest, fluffiest, angsty-est bits and turn them into an imagine series. You can sort of follow along with the story based on the imagines, too. Both the story and imagines are ONGOING, and I keep all masterlists updated.

Here they are, in order (more under the cut):

Imagine seeing the boys after years (CH 1)

Imagine Dean joking about your mechanic skills (CH 3)

Imagine calling the boys with information on their case (CH 4)

Imagine staying with the boys when Sam is infected with the Croatoan virus (CH 7)

Imagine catching Sam leaving when he thinks you and Dean are asleep (CH 8)

Imagine trying to convince Dean not to sell his soul (CH 9)

Imagine patching up Sam’s knees when he scrapes them while under the rabbit’s foot curse (CH 10)

Imagine admitting to Dean you hooked up with Bela (CH 11)

Imagine Sam calling you after you took off the night before (CH 14)

Imagine living with Charlie (CH 17)

Imagine, after coming back from Hell, apologizing to Sam for not telling him about your deal (CH 18)

Imagine saying goodbye to Charlie (CH 18)

Imagine the boys catching you up on what’s happened with them since you went to Hell (CH 19)

Imagine facing Dean for the first time after he tortured you in Hell (CH 19)

Imagine not seeing the boys since Dean killed Dick Roman (CH 22)

Imagine the boys introducing you to the bunker (CH 25)

Imagine Portia telling you that you’re a witch (CH 26)

Imagine fighting with Sam before he leaves for a hunt (CH 26)

Imagine Dean’s reaction when you find out you’re a witch (CH 27)

Imagine convincing Sam to let you help him with the second trial (CH 28)

Imagine accompanying Sam into Hell when he goes to rescue Bobby because you’ve spent time there (CH 28)

Imagine staying behind to fight with Benny in Purgatory (CH 28)

Imagine seeing Charlie for the first time in a year (CH 29)

Imagine Dean convincing you to get some sleep (CH 30)

Imagine making up with Charlie after an argument (CH 30)

Imagine helping Sam through the last demon trial (CH 31)

Imagine being with Sam when he realizes the demon trials will kill him (CH 31)

Imagine reuniting with the boys after losing them at the church after the last demon trial (CH 32)

Imagine giving Kevin a shooting lesson (CH 32)

Imagine discovering the angel inside of Sam (CH 32)

Imagine Dean calling during your weekend alone with Charlie (CH 33)

Imagine calling Sam after not seeing him in a while (CH 34)

Imagine picking up Cas on the side of the road after Dean tells him he can’t stay (CH 34)

Imagine watching Game of Thrones with Charlie and the boys (CH 35)

Imagine Charlie saying goodbye to you before leaving for Oz (CH 35)

Imagine avoiding Sam because of the angel possessing him, and him confronting you about it (CH 35)

Imagine telling Dean you need to leave because you can’t be around Sam while he’s possessed by an angel (CH 35)

Imagine convincing Dean to get some sleep (CH 37)

[queen-syko]

Dean x Reader : Help Wanted

Original Author: Francesca Roman (Me) (Originally posted on Wattpad) Word Count: 2556 — The sign read as I stepped through the diner doors. It’s been a couple years since I left Sam and Dean. I couldn’t take the heavy duty work load that was put on us constantly. I couldn’t stand being ignored by Dean because apparently I always did something wrong on the hunts we went on. Then there was this incident with a vampire killing me and Castiel bringing me back, so, I left and I didn’t turn back once because I knew for a fact that if I went back, I would not hear the end of it from Dean. He was also being so rude to me for no reason so that just gave me the impression that I didn’t belong there. I was never mean, or ignorant towards anyone. It was just so much to handle. I tried to be a good person, a good hunter. — *time skips brought to you by Cas* I walked up to the counter and sat down in front a woman behind the counter. She has brownish gray curly hair and blue eyes. She was absolutely stunning considering she is much older than me. “What can I do you for, darlin’?” She said as she wiped off the excess water on the counter. “I see you’re hiring for a waitress position? I was wondering if I could apply for the job?” She smiled and put the rag down. “Tell me about yourself…?” “Y.F.N, Y.F.N Y.L.N. Well, I’m Y.A years old. I am currently living in a cheap motel because I recently quit my old job and I had nowhere to stay. I’m a very nice person and I am really happy to accept the job because let’s face it… I need money and you need someone to buss tables.” She looked at me quizzically. “Well Y.N, welcome aboard.” She smiled and handed me an apron. “You start tomorrow at noon. See you till then.” She went into the back and I started towards the exit doors. I opened the door and started walking back to the motel. I sighed in relief. ____ *time skips brought to you by Cas* A couple weeks later… “Hi welcome to Shirley’s Diner, what can I get for you today?” I said as I took out my pen and paper to write down the man’s order. “I’ll just have a chocolate milkshake, honeybee.” His accent was odd. I think it was scottish? I could be wrong though. He wore all black. He was a little bald but he wore it well for the age he seems to be which was, maybe 45. “Coming right up.” We exchanged looks then I went to the milkshake machine and put a cup under the spout and held the button in until it was filled to the top. I put whipped cream and a cherry on the top. I picked up the milkshake then took it over to the man in all black. When I set the milkshake in front of him the bell above the door rang. “Looks like my associates are here.” The man in all black said as he stuck a straw in his milkshake. I turned my head towards the door and saw two people I thought I would never see again. I walked back over behind the counter and grabbed two menus for Sam and Dean. They sat across from the man in all black and they looked pissed. “Honeybee! Can I get two menus for my friends?” I looked at them and nodded. I heard Dean say “Crowley, damn it! We’re not friends for the last damn time!” I chuckled and grabbed two menus and put them in front of Sam and Dean. “What could I get you to drink?” I looked at Sam and he looked up at me and a look of confusion spread across his face. “Y/n?” I smiled then looked at Dean. “Y/n.” He looked me up from head to toe. “So this is the dump where you ran off to? I can’t say I’m surprised…” Sam nudged his brother and looked at me with worried eyes. “Dean, you don’t have to be such a dick.” Sam said looking at his older brother. “No Sam, it’s okay. I guess you can’t fix ignorance over time. What do you want to drink Sammy?” He smiled and said water. I looked at Dean with a smug smile on my face. “I guess it’s a pink lemonade for you pretty girl?” He had a plain expression and said water with gritted teeth. “Coming right up boys.” I rolled my eyes and walked to get their drinks. I looked back at their table and I caught Dean starring at me. His eyes are quickly averted as Crowley claps his hands in front of Dean. I grabbed their waters and brought it over to the table. I set some straws next to the drinks and took out my notepad. “Are you ready to order?” Sammy smiled at me again and his eyes seemed to have soften a bit. “Sunny side up eggs with whole wheat toast and a side of fruit.” I smiled and looked at Dean. His eyes weighed heavily on my own. “A piece of cherry pie. Come on Y/n, you should know this already.” I just nodded and walked away. I gave the order to Rob the cook and walked over to the cherry pie and cut a slice. I walked over to Dean and set it in front of him. Then I went back to cleaning off messy tables and helping other cusromers. “Orders up!” Rob dinged the little bell and I wiped my hands on my apron while walking over into the kitchen. I grabbed Sams food then set it in front of him. I saw Sam receive a call, he looked worried. “Okay Charlie, just stay there and stay hidden.” Who’s Charlie? I saw Sam set some money on the table and grabbed Dean by the Jacket. I looked for the man in black but he simply disappeared out of thin air. Dean turned to looked over his shoulder and stared at me. His eyes had worry written in them. Just like that he left with Sam out the diner door. I sighed and walked over to clean off their table.  *time skips brought to you by Cas* I walked over to the door and flipped the sign to closed. I grabbed my bag and clocked out. I locked the door after leaving the diner. I looked at the time on my phone which read 11:30 pm. I put my keys in my bag then put my sweater on. I started walking in the direction of my shitty apartment. I would pick an area that is surrounded by woods to work in let alone live in. The only thing that lit the road I walked on was the occasional street light. I heard a twig snapping that came from my right. I stopped in my placed and looked to my right. I heard another snap and yellow eyes appear from the dense area of trees. My first thought was to stay and finish this thing off. My second was to get the hell out of here. Since I didn’t have anything to kill this mysterious pair of yellow eyes, I chose my second thought. I started running down the road towards my apartment building. I heard fast footsteps chasing me. I saw a car approaching in the distance. “Stop! Please!” I looked behind me and the thing chasing me was trailing closely on my back. I sped up a little bit more and the car approaching only a few feet away stopped. I recognized it to be baby. Dean’s 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Out stepped Dean in the drivers seat and Sam in the passenger seat. “Y/n! Sam kill the bastard!” I ran over to Dean and he grabbed my arm. He looked for any bite marks or bullet wounds I suppose. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?” His hand came up to my cheek as I watch Sam chop the guys head off. “Y/n?” I looked back at Dean then his hand left my cheek and he dropped his arms to his sides. “I’m.. I’m fine Dean. Just shaken up a little.” His face was unreadable. “Let’s us give you a ride home. I don’t want you walking around with these pricks running about. That was only one werewolf of fifteen.” My eyes went wide and I got into the backseat of the Impala. I shut the door as Sam and Dean dragged the body and head into the woods then set it on fire. Once the body was completely destroyed they covered it with some leaves and sticks and got back into the Impala. Dean started Baby back up and started driving in the direction I was headed in. After about ten minutes of silence, Sam spoke up. “How’ve you been Y/n?” I turned my head out towards the window. “I could be better you know? I’m finally getting back on my feet after what happend like two years ago but I’m living and breathing so I guess I’m fine. Yourself?” “I’m doing okay. We’re doing okay. Still trying to make the world a better place by killing one monster at a time.” Silence filled the air. I looked into the rear view mirror and caught Dean starring at me. “I wish you would come home. I miss you and so does Castiel. We could sure use a woman’s touch around this bunker we found no to long ago. It’s been so different since you left.” I sighed and Dean looked away. I’m surprised he hasn’t made any smart ass remarks this whole time. “I can’t do that Sammy. You know that. I just wanna live my knowing I’m not going to die anytime soon. I miss all three of you. I just can’t come back. I’m sorry.” Sam sighed and leaned back a bit further in his seat. I saw my shitty apartment coming up on the right. “Dean you can pull over at that ugly yellow building. That’s my apartment.” He didn’t say anything, he did what I told him and turned baby off. “Well, this is it. I’ll see you never I guess. Bye Sammy, Dean. Tell Cas, I miss him.” I got out of the car and started walking to my buildings front door. Once I walked in and closed the door behind me, I heard the Impala start up once more and drive off into the distance. I felt warm tears roll down my face. My heart was yelling at me to go find the guys and tell them to take me home but my head was just wondering what would happen of I actually did go back. What terrible things would happen. I wiped my cheeks and walked up the flight of stairs to get to my apartment. *time skips brought to you by Cas* I seriously need to get a car. I hate walking from home to work and back or walking to the store which is a mile down the road. I hate that I live in the bumble fuck of nowhere. I walked over to the back wall to clock out and Shirley came up behind me and handed my paycheck. “Thanks Shirley. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled and went into the kitchen to talk to Rob or something. Once I clocked out, I grabbed my purse and began walking down the road towards my apartment once again. I heard the rumble of an engine pull up besides me. I look to my right and see Dean in his 1967 Chevrolet Impala. “Come on, get in. I’ll give you a ride.” He came to a halt and I just looked at him through the Inpalas passenger window. “Why aren’t you making smart ass comments like old times? Why are you being so nice Dean?” He got a hold of the inside car handle and pushed open the door. “Get in Y/n.” My eyebrows furrowed downward. I huffed and got into the front seat. Dean started driving down the road. “So, where’s Sam?” I looked out the window. “He’s back at the bunker. We already got rid of the pack even though it’s been three days since we last saw you.” “What are you even doing back here Dean? Trying to make my life a living hell again?” Silence filed the car as I saw my apartment in the distance. He pulled up and shut off Baby. As I went to push the door open he grabbed my arm. I looked towards him in confusion. “I’m sorry. We want you to come home. I want you to come home. I… I fucked up so bad Y/n.” I looked at him in disbelief. I looked at his eyes and he looked hurt as I ripped my arm from his grasp, exited the car and started walking towards the door. “Tell Sam I said goodbye.” I looked at him once more and closed the door behind me. I walked up the stairs and was just about to walk through my apartment door when the maim door opened and there stood Dean. I thought he would have just sped off but that wasn’t the case. “Dean just leave! I’m not coming home. I don’t belong there.-” “Oh and you think you belong in this dump?” A frown covered my lips. “I do think I belong here, at least I’m wanted here Dean! You used to make everything into a god damn argument. You used to make little comments on what I did and didn’t do on hunts and whatever else the case may be. Dean, you destroyed me. Why do you think I left?” He walked up the stairs as I walked into my apartment. I went to shut the door but his foot got in the way. “Let me in Y/n. Let’s talk about this! Please.” The air fell silent around us. I opened the door and just starred at him. He was about six to eight inches tall let than me. His build towered over my own. His green eyes were glossy with either tears or hatred. Which ever it was, it wasn’t good. “I’m sorry. I only wanted you to better yourself. I didn’t want you taking up on my bad habits. I miss you. I’ve been missing you ever since I found your note on the motel side table.” His one hand reached up to touch my cheek. The other grabbed a gold of my own. “Give me a chance to make it up to you. Come home and we can all be one happy family again. Sam told me you know. After you left he told me about how much you loved me…. I never realized it though. Come home and be with us, be with me?” I looked at him shockingly. “I guess I’m coming home.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist and spun me around. His lips connected with my own and I couldn’t be happier at this moment in time. Looks like he’s the kind of help I wanted. (Credit to me *Via Wattpad*) (Not my gif)

[nerdylittleshit]

Frodo Lives

Aka The Great Meta Scavenger Hunt Round 5

For this weeks challenge Lizzy gave us this:

Now no one bends reality like Supernatural, so as a point of professional pride, I think we should re-examine our own canon to find out where and when it is only a dream/extended metaphor/biased narrative told to us in secret first person from a particular character. Did Dean never come back from the season 2 djinn dream? Is Sam still in Mystery Spot? Or Hell? Is everything before 6x20 Cas’s take on events and he literally told us the whole story when he threatened to tell us a story? Find yourself a break from the normal narrative and tell me how an episode/story arc/season/entire chunk of the show was in fact a story within a story or a dream within a dream or an unreliable narrator unreliably narrating. (x)

Also known as “It was all just a dream”, my least favourite trope. Don’t get my wrong - glimpses into alternative realities or dream worlds can be great, hell 2x20 is one of my all time favourite episodes. But they need to work with the premise that the audience knows that what we see is not real. I absolutely hate it though if we get this twist at the end. Even more if the dream itself covered several episodes or worse the whole show. Unreliable narrators can be fun if it is done right, but most of the time this trope feels to me like lazy writing, and adding a twist just for the sake of it. Nevertheless I’m gonna present my own little theory of an unreliable narrator in Supernatural, though I have to admit this theory is probably not fool proved. Either way, here we go.

The title probably already told you what this is about - presenting a theory about Charlie and the potential that she might be still alive after all. I know to most of us she still is - the Supernatural fandom ignores Charlie’s death the same way the Harry Potter fandom ignored the Epilogue at the end of Deathly Hallows. Because that’s the thing about canon - we acknowledge it as long as it is not stupid.

Now Charlie’s death hurt like no other, and there are many reasons for it. She was a fan favourite, a stand in for the audience and postive representation of a fangirl, and the only recurring queer character on the show (or you know the only one out of the closet *cough*). And let’s just say killing a queer character by Nazi-esque character, her dead body left behind in the bathtub (the fridge probably wasn’t big enough) is about as sensitive as putting a collar on a woman of color. Just saying.

But we just simply ignore all our bitter feelings for a moment, and instead of the why, we look at the how. Because for whatever stupid reasons TPTB thought it was neccessary to kill Charlie (it wasn’t), the fact remains she died in what could be only described as a giant plot hole. Instead of giving her an heroic hunter death - the way Jo or Bobby or any other hunter on the show had - she died in a way that left many of us with disbelief.

There where plenty of ways Charlie could have escaped, plenty of ways she could have fight back - after all that girl had survived a war in Oz. And it is her stay in Oz that made many believe she did perhaps fake her own death, and that she gained the knowlege to do so while she was there. And even without magic this is Charlie we are talking about. Charlie, who was so brilliant, not even Dick Roman could make an Leviathan copy of her, as we learned in 7x20.

DICK ROMAN: You're kind of completing me right now, Charlie. You have that spark, that thing that makes humans so special. Not everyone has it, you know. Those people – they can be replaced. But people like you... are impossible to copy.

And in the same episode we also got this:

CHARLIE: This ain't the first time I've disappeared. You think my name is really Charlie Bradbury? Please.

This would confirm the theory Charlie faked her own death. But another of my least favourite tropes is when characters do exactly this - faking their own death. Say she did - why would she still be hiding by now? All the Stynes are dead, Dean is free from the Mark of Cain, there is no other threat for her. So we can rule out she did it herself - but it doesn’t mean nobody else did.

Yep, that’s right. Crowley. And I know now you are wondering why he would do it? What is his gain? Well, first of all in the world of Supernatural death often works as a plot device. Sam’s death at the end of season 2 led to Dean making a deal, which resulted in his death, which led to Sam starting to use his psychic powers. Or take Kevin’s death: it was the reason Dean took the Mark of Cain. Charlie’s death then led to Dean fully embracing his dark side and giving in to his desire to kill. It is lazy storywriting at his best, to think the only way to lead a character in a darker direction is through loss. And furthermore it degrades the death itself of the character if it only happens to lead the plot in a certain direction (so, no surprise both Kevin and Charlie were killed by the dreaded duo).

So could it be Crowley arranged/faked Charlie’s death, knowing what deep impact it would have on Dean, who already struggled with the MoC at this point? Did he hope Dean would come back to him - continuing their summer of love - and eventually become a demon again? Maybe even get the First Blade back? It is a possibility. If anything it would have brought Dean closer to Crowley again, maybe even made him dependent on Crowley.

And it wouldn’t be the first time Crowley faked the death of a loved one - he made Kevin believe his mother was dead, hoping that her loss would take away his last hope/connection to a normal life and to isolate him more from the Winchesters. To get Kevin at a point he wouldn’t care anymore, and started working for Crowley.

But in 9x14 we learn that Linda Tran was alive all the time, trapped with others as a human leverage. Previous to that Crowley did try to mess with Kevin - telling him at first his mother was dead, only to tell him later the opposite, that she was still alive and only he knew where she was. In 9x02 he first made Kevin doubt, reminiding him that he never saw a body.

This of course is something we defenitely saw - Charlie’s body, later cremated in a Hunter’s funeral pyre. But could it be it was still a trick after all? Maybe it was enough to simply tell Kevin his mother was dead, but Crowley knew the Winchesters needed a body to be convinced. But then again Crowley’s mother is a witch and we know he has the means to pull of a stunt like this. In 10x14 we saw him using the Rune of Amaranth, an illusion spell. Of course the illusion only holds as long as nobody touches it, and Crowley needed a corporal body to convince the Winchesters. We did saw another form of illusion in 8x21, where demons looked like Sam and Dean, to trick Kevin. So maybe there was a body - it just wasn’t Charlie’s and only a spell made it appear like hers.

And speaking of witchcraft. It is possible Rowena might have helped Crowley. Maybe she was able to contact Crowley even though she was a prisoner at the time. After all she knew how important Charlie was to Sam and Dean.

ROWENA: I read you the minute I saw you. And I'm sure you're learning that the line between good and evil is quite flexible. But we part company when it comes to blind devotion. Case in point . . . the Winchesters. You've made them the family you don't have. Foolish.

CHARLIE: Sam and Dean are like my brothers. I love them.

ROWENA: I know. And that steadfast loyalty will be your undoing, my girl.

She warns Charlie that the Winchesters will be the death of her, the same way Crowley warned Kevin in 8x02.

CROWLEY:I know we're not mates, Kevin, but one word of advice – run. Run far and run fast. 'Cause the Winchesters – well, they have a habit of using people up and watching them die bloody. Toodles.

Furthermore it might be possible Rowena cast a spell on Charlie as well. Because the reason Charlie left to be on her own, to get to the motel where the Stynes found her, is Rowena.

CHARLIE: I am doing my best, but with her criticizing, breathing down my neck, trying to sign me up for team witch . . . oh, oh, and moaning how the one good year for music was 1723 . . . I . . . I am going crazy. I know. No, I mean, she is evil.

CASTIEL: She is a wicked witch, so by definition . . .

CHARLIE: No, no, no, I mean something bad is gonna happen here. Castiel, man, just spring me for two hours, one hour . . . anyplace quiet. Dean is my buddy, and I cannot screw this up, but . . . but my mind is . . . is . . . it's a wad of gummy worms. Please.

Especially the last line made me wonder if Charlie is feeling that way because of Rowena. It sounded very unlike Charlie to start a catfight and to leave a safe place when she knew the Stynes were still searching for her. So was Rowena messing with her head? Getting her out so her son could fulfill his evil plan? And could it be Charlie is still alive? That Crowley uses her skills for himself? Or again as a human leverage?

In my personal opinion I don’t believe that’s true. If Crowley kept her he would have used this leverage already against the Winchesters. Furthermore bringing Charlie back now would feel like cheap fanservice and again lazy writing. That doesn’t mean Charlie will never come back -after all you are never really dead on Supernatural - but maybe in a different way. Who knows.

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 9x21: “King of the Damned”

THEN: Angel civil war.It is now Cas versus Metatron. Gadreel is working for Metatron. “Poughkepsie” is a Winchester code word; it means “drop everything and run”. The Winchesters have their reasons to hate Gadreel. Gadreel himself is starting to lose patience with Metatron. Abaddon, a Knight of Hell. She and Crowley have been competing for the throne to Hell. The First Blade can kill a Knight. You need the Mark of Cain to use the Blade. Hellhounds. Crowley’s addicted to human blood

Leith, Scotland. 1723.

Abaddon’s interfering with timelines. Wonderful.

RIP man. Killed by Abaddon.

“...and distracted her while another gull swooped in --”

“Oh, I can't tell you how great it feels to finally have a night off, right, guys?”

“Uh, this other seagull came --”

...awkward.

Should’ve kept your big mouth shut, buddy.

“These are dangerous times. You have to be careful what you say.” Really tho.

How does Cas keep getting bomb ass intros?!

Cas took a page from Bartholomew’s book. Cas’ setup looks like Bart’s, except bigger and better.

AWWW. HE WAS SO HAPPY TO HUG THEM.

“So this war between angels is really gonna happen, huh?” It’s been happening, Sam.

The lighting makes Dean’s eyes look black. It’s unsettling.

Cleveland, Ohio.

“So, here's the thing, boys and girls -- we have a crisis. Admittedly, a crisis of my own making. In my extended absence, where I handled sensitive matters of state, Abaddon made inroads into my following, creating chaos. So I look to you, my trusted advisors, to restore confidence, to soothe those jangled nerves.”

“The king is back, and the kingdom is once again on sound footing.”

Riveting speech, Crowley.

“You betrayed me? No one in the history of torture's been tortured with torture like the torture you'll be tortured with.” The word torture or a variation on the word torture was used 5 times in one sentence.

“Now, Crowley, let's talk turkey. I know you helped the Winchesters get their hands on the First Blade, yes? And I'm hearing that one of them also has the mark of Cain -- all bad news, since the Blade is the one thing that can bring about my --”

“Utter destruction.”

“To be indelicate. But here's the thing, pet -- same goes for you. And once I'm gone, who do you think's next on those cute boys' list? That's right. So let's get real. Join me in taking out the Winchesters and that ridiculous Blade, and then we'll deal with each other.”

Huh, didn’t Dick Roman pull a similar move?

“Gavin, honey, say hello to daddy.” Well, except for the “bringing the son back” thing.

Might want to interfere anytime and stop this torture, Crowley.

Bad cop/good cop this, nice.

OH wait, no. We’re going taunting cops.

“Buddy, the gates are sealed. No one can get in.”

“Who said anything about gates? You don't need gates when you have a private portal.”

“Right. If there was a doorway on earth, the angels would've sensed it.”

“Yeah, you can't hide something like that.”

“No.”

“You can if it moves around from place to place, if it's wherever the boss wants it to be.”

Played him like a gosh darn fiddle.

“You are not my father. My father was Fergus MacLeod, a simple tailor. A drunk, a monster.”

“Sounds about right.”

Pfft.

“A lot can change in 291 years.”

“Can you cook a pigeon on it?” lmao. I guess??

“Are we in heaven, then? You must be angels!” Oh nooo.

“You're a fan. Just 'cause you're hot for Metatron... ...or Bieber or Beckham... Just 'cause you know everything about them doesn't mean that you actually know them.”

“Or that they even know you exist.”

I feel personally attacked by this.

“Dim bulb. No wonder he got bumped.”

“Yeah. ‘Ground forces’? ‘Elite secret squad’? What's Metatron gearing up for?”

“I don't know -- why don't we shove somebody through the back door of heaven and find out. Oh, wait. No. It's portable and can't be found.”

Y’all still got a hefty amount of info. Good job on that.

“Not just any demon. I'm the king -- the king of Hell! And there you were, worried the old man wouldn't amount to much.”

lol

RIP Ezra.

“Okay. Well, I'm gonna say it. Maybe your operation's been hacked. You know, Metatron's got somebody on the inside.”

“I was sure everyone here was loyal. Finally united by a common cause.”

“Well, that's the problem. See, you don't think anybody's lying. I think everybody's lying. It's a gift.”

That’s a problem too.

“He didn't possess me completely -- more like we, uh... shared housing. I was still me.” I doubt Dean will have this exact experience. Well actually, he did have control when he went and killed Lucifer; after that, AU!Michael took over completely.

“Did you ever feel threatened?”

“No. More that he... wasn't at rest, l-like he had unfinished business. Now that we know more about him, I-I'd say he felt misunderstood.”

There’s the key.

"’Why do I hate you’?!”

“I mean, I beat you, starved you, came home drunk, beat you some more, woke up hungover, and, yeah, I beat you.”

Jeez.

“If you're a king... that would make me... Prince?”

“And you say I've never given you anything. A title!”

Pfft.

“And if I was to accept you as my father, you could keep me from eternally burning in hell? No matter my sins?”

“You're negotiating with me? That's my boy.”

Like father, like son.

Crowley didn’t tell Gavin about the sunken ship?

“You have a reputation for honor.” Well, that’s nice.

“In some circles. As for reputations, yours precedes you.” I don’t know if you should’ve started on that foot.

“I know you truly believe it's for the greater good, but you've placed your faith in the wrong master.” Cas recognized his own bad decisions in Gadreel. He’s trying to help him.

RIP 2 assassin angels. Killed by Cas.

RIP angel. Killed by another angel.

Dean’s still struggling with the Mark.

Oh dear.

First, retrieving the First Blade.

“Oh! Come on, Crowley! You really, uh, uh, have to hide the Blade in a corpse? Not -- not with a corpse but in a corpse?” Of course he did.

Hellhounds.

“Juliet? It's papa. Stand down. *She does.* You’re welcome.”

(Irrelevant-ish, but who controls the hellhounds now that Crowley is dead?)

Good lord, it’s been a while since I’ve been utterly disgusted by this show.

Look, we got the Blade.

“You do? Well, you need to get it here at once. Cleveland, Humboldt Hotel. Penthouse, of course. When you get here, I'll take you to Abaddon. I'll draw her out, and then you can skewer the ignorant hag. *To Abaddon* Just selling it.”

lmao, sure.

“Oh, and, Dean, you need to get a move on. It's a good day's drive from Poughkeepsie.” Using the code word...

“So, we good?”

“Yeah.”

Liar McLiarface.

“Nice. But here's the thing -- you've been plotting with those boys for some time now. When they get here, it'll be you, the Winchesters, the First Blade, and little, old me in one place. Now, I don't mind stiff odds, but ...let's be reasonable.“

*She shoots Crowley with a devil’s trap bullet.*

Abaddon was smart as hell.

“I never would have agreed to meet if I thought concealed assassins were going to try and attack you. I hope you know that.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Even though you and I are on opposite sides in this situation, I believe there must be honor, even in matters of war.”

Damn you, Gadreel. I like you so much.

“I want you to stay right where you are. Just give me reports on what Metatron is planning and when he will strike.”

“And the honor we were speaking of?”

“Obviously, Metatron has someone inside my camp. It's how he knew we were meeting. Just fighting fire with fire. Consider my offer.”  

Do it, Gadreel!!

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a sec. We should give this place a once-over before we go up there. Crowley said he thought he saw some demons headed down to the basement. He'd have checked it out himself, but if word got back to Abaddon that he'd been seen...”

“When did he say all this?”

“On the phone.”

Your pants should be on fire, you goddamn liar.

RIP demon. Killed by Dean.

Sam, the action’s somewhere else!!!

The lamp hitting Crowley is so unintentionally hilarious.

Abaddon’s laughing, but she’s also struggling like hell to fight Dean.

RIP Abaddon. Killed by Dean.

ALRIGHT BUDDY YOU CAN STOP NOW.

Dean’s hand is just covered in blood...

“You could at least -- aah! -- help me with this.”  

Out comes the bullet.

“You get that he's got to go back, right? To his own time?” Not for another 3 years.

“Can I at least say goodbye? I'll cheer the day when the last trace of humanity leaves me.”

lmao

Now Crowley tells Gavin about the failed voyage. “The ship went down? Well, that's a good fit with the rest of my life.”

“Goodbye, Gavin. Oh, uh... Don't go mentioning that whole ‘Prince of Hell’ thing. Doesn't play too well in most circles.” Ooohh. I’m just now remembering the actual Princes of Hell. Ha.

“I didn't tell you about the warning because I knew exactly what you would do. You would make sure that you were right alongside me going in that room.” Duh doy.

“I had to go it alone, Sammy.”

“Oh. Of course. So it was just another time where you had to protect me.”

I’m with Sam here.

“I'm starting to think the Blade is doing something else, too.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Demonizing you.

Do they not wear their seatbelts??

“No.”

Another single word that sent chills up my spine.