#and this is the part where you realize Oh She Was Going To Stab Dean In The Knee With That If He Didn’t Stop. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sarah-dipitous · 7 months

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 257

Keep Calm and Carry On/Sleep No More

“Keep Calm and Carry On”

Plot Description: as Crowley conducts a desperate search for Lucifer’s vessel, Dean must come to grips with an unbelievable sight: the return of his mother

Oh. So NOW we’re getting a “the road so far”??? But not to carry on wayward son…feels wrong

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No, but not for the normal reasons. We picked right back up with Dean and Mary

Omg Dean’s right around my age now, too??? I can’t

Oh right. Castiel got super banished from the bunker at the end of last episode

Everything that Mary’s saying about how many times she and Dean have met over the course of the series sounds so fake, but it all really happened

This lady just bribed a veterinarian with like…$200k maybe? To dig the bullet out of Sam. Ohhhhhh, she’d shot him in the leg!

This interrogation is going super well for London Lady (maybe one day I’ll learn her name). That. Um. That was sarcastic.

Omg Mary almost shot her son’s boyfriend

Two things: Cas initiating a hug!!!! And two, when you see your boyfriend who you thought died when you sent him to go blow up god’s sister

Castiel and Mary are kind of funny together. Dean, on a normal laptop

Mary: is that a computer?

Cas: Yes. I don’t trust them

(But like….he’s and angel and she’s from 1983)

The face of a man who just realized his mom is remembering the times his parents fucked in the car that would eventually be his….and his confused boyfriend he looks to directly afterward

Lady. No. It’s just that your country is so much smaller. It’s easier to control monster populations.

Wait, are the writers trying to make supernatural beings a metaphor for guns? Because she was just saying there hasn’t been a monster related death in the UK since 1965…guess I’ll have to watch this season to find out

We must stay strong. I love when Cas gets to show his ruthless side. That was almost season 4 Cas levels. They soften him so much, which I also love..:but every so often, the old Castiel comes out. It’s just nice to see he’s still got it

I wanna go to a fruit stand slash outdoor cafe!! Why do Mary, her son, and her son’s boyfriend get to and I don’t??

Mmmmm, it was only 100k. But man…it’s hard to say no to that when you’ve got doctor student loans

Did you really think they wouldn’t lock the cellar they’re keeping you in, Sam???

Do angel abilities stop at consciousness? Like Cas can heal just about anything but waking up someone who was knocked unconscious?

Does this other UK men of letters woman have some sort of angel warding that keeps her safe from whatever Cas can do??? Guess it doesn’t matter, Mary just stabbed her

Oh, you fucked up BIG TIME, lady. And maybe I should have had just a little more faith in Sam. I mean, he’s lived through all those things before, and every hurtful thing Dean’s said to him…

I can’t believe he said the “saving people, hunting things” line now, here in season 12

(The Crowley subplot was super small and almost unimportant. He was literally just jumping around to where Lucifer HAD been, all the people he’s burnt out by needing them as a vessel)

“Sleep No More”

Plot Description: this terrifying story is assembled from footage discovered in the wreckage of Le Verrier Space Station

*fingers crossed I don’t see “to be continued…” at the end of this episode*

*google translates “le verrier” from French to English ahead of time just in case that’s an important derail* it means glassmaker

I can’t tell if the video’s stalled or if they made this part intentionally ACTUALLY pitch black. Just blank screen. Feeling like I’m watching Season 8 Episode 3 of game of thrones

It’s really been a few minutes of a blank screen…i signed up for doctor who not a scripted drama podcast. It’s giving Wolf 359 but I’m annoyed

They’re orbiting Neptune…I’m literally absorbing NOTHING ELSE. Except Clara thinks this place looks like a Japanese restaurant in space

…I watched like 8-10 minute just like this…I just fixed it. There was supposed to be picture this WHOLE TIME. I thought it was a weird style choice. I hate this

You know…we DO need more multi-season Doctor and companion pairings with no romantic tension. This is no hate to Nine/TenRose (a little ick to Eleven and Amy), but you wouldn’t get these dumbass conversations about how people don’t call things that look high tech and whatnot “space [noun (restaurant, champagne, and hat were used in the show)]”. There’s a big difference between how you act around your crush and how you act around your bff, and unfortunately Donna was robbed of a good deal of her time due to Ten’s time being nearly up. But Twelve and Clara? Have had a LOT of time together to get to be dumb together as friends, and we get it on screen

Ok ok ok. So there’s some kind of creature made of sand aboard this space laboratory that’s named glassmaker where this rescue mission is taking place. I’m connecting the two dots

Why’d that one guy not go with LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE?? They were all in a group and he just split off for no reason while they were running

I’m having less and less faith that this is a one part episode. They’re spending entirely too much time trying to get in touch with their missing teammate

Why would you put a hologram of a 1960s-ish girl group singing Mr Sandman on a 38th century dohickey you’ve called Morpheus but refuse to explain? I’m saying, the thing shuts with a person inside, the small hologram appears singing Mr Sandman. I’m just saying, would we be putting 4th century music on a space station today?

Ewwwwwww, why’d they put turbo capitalism on Neptune??? Morpheus gives you the energy to work for a month straight in, like, five minute time. Thanks! I hate it!

I did not connect the dots. These sand creatures are potentially made of sleep dust…sure

I hate this dude. He’s trying to shorten the amount of time people sleep even MORE

The original crew of this space station sucks too. Why would you make the password to open all doors singing Mr Sandman (my phone tried to autofill Saxon…awww John Simms Master)

PREACH, Doctor! Sleep IS important and blessed! Please ignore how late I’ll be up tonight for the mha leaks…I’m sorry, Doctor

WHAT. The sleep dust is collecting the footage from all this?? That…feels like a step too far for my suspension of disbelief

What the fuuuuuuuck. Horrible Turbo Capitalist is trying to make these sandmen the new human because…..they’re more efficient workers? I don’t know. All I’ve seen them do is near mindlessly attack.

Ok. So the whole premise is that they embedded the signal that turns you into a sandman into this video that you’re now watching, and they made it exciting but nonsensical with no real conclusion. This feels like they tried to make another Blink-esque episode but it didn’t work as well

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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liopleurodean · 1 year

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Season 3, Episode 3: Bad Day At Black Rock

Yay, back to prison

Ew, not him

Pfft. A guy who knows a guy who knows Bobby

Kubrick? Like Stanley?

I'm tired of this guy

Demons lie, Sam. You're lucky with this one

Liar

Fair enough

Because you're yelling, that's why

That's a smart choice

I wouldn't put it past him

Don't trust Gordon

Nebraska!

That's actually a pretty good setup for a hunter

Don't play with my Jesus!

That's on purpose, Dean

Spooky

That looks like a tripwire

Prince Humperdinck level detective work

Still works!

Dude. That's kinda overkill

It'd be nice if they were labeled

Uh oh...

Priorities

Do not open that

Welp, you're screwed

OHHHH

OH THISLL BE FUN

These guys are not smart

Lucky, huh?

*sing song voice* should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of a security camera...

Not so lucky now, huh?

Far from it

Dean!

Holy crap

Ouch

There we go!

That's Dean's gun, there's no way it would jam

Nice!

What did I say? Dean's gun just doesn't jam

Niiice

Oh, it's definitely cursed. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it!

Ominous

That's gonna stab something

Yikes

Ohh! That was worse than I thought

Bobby! Come on, man

Well obviously they figure out a way to break

Oh great, and he's also got Gordon on his trail

Dude! Cash that in quick

Nice

THE LOOK ON DEANS FACE 😂

Of course! Why not?

Brain freeze

Ah. Lucky

He's not lucky anymore!

Nice

Until he dies

That's REALLY unlucky

Dude.

They have their ways

Sam. Just stop

Beautiful speech, Dean

What's up with him?

Oh! Oh I know this scene!

Bobby knows her?

As if he doesn't already

I lost my shoe... *toe twitch* (iconic)

Welcome to New York

The chair is gonna break

Or not

Oh, she's British

That's clever

Nice, Dean

Oh, great

Sam, no

Sam, no!!

Sam. Sam please

That's not something you should sell

Dollar signs are ringing in Dean's head

Oh, he knows

That wasn't even part of the curse, that was just coincidence

This guy is insane

Nice try

That's a whack Ouija board

I mean, yeah?

Well, when you put it that way...

YOURE going to hell. And so is Dean, but not forever

Nice

Don't hurt the cat!

Hah! Far from it

This is aggravating

You're right. It doesn't just happen

I mean...

Mm, I don't think so

I'm left-handed?

I'm Batman!!!

Yeah he is!!

He's got his priorities

Okay, Elmer

It's the same speech 😂

Oof

Where on the ground?

Nice

Bye Bela!

She didn't

Aw, come on

Gordon's realizing some things

#ashla chick flick moments #supernatural #season 3 episode 3 #bad day at black rock

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sams-sass · 3 years

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Right Here Waiting

Friends!!! I am so sorry that I haven't posted in like weeks. I was taking time to relax and refresh. This is for all my Dean girls! I hope you all have a beautiful weekend. Thank you so much for reading! Much love *kisses*

Summary: You get hurt on a hunt and Dean faces the fact that he might lose you before he gets to tell you how he feels.

Pairings: Dean x Reader.

Warnings: Talk of death. Angst. Fluff. Angsty fluff. Few swear words.

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Deans back practically rammed through the door, almost knocking it off its hinges. He dragged you into the motel room with Sam running in behind him, his arms full of weapons and bags. Your head lolled from side to side against Dean's chest as he walked backward toward one of the beds. His limp was bad, and every step was agonizing, but he was determined to take care of you first. He threw you down on the bed and grabbed your face between his hands.

“Y/N!” He screamed, his voice nervous and shaky. You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He shook your shoulders, his bloody hands grasping your shirt.

“Dean!” Sam yelled at his brother. It was almost as if Dean didn’t hear him, just continued to stare into your face. “Dean!” Sam tried again, grabbing Dean’s jacket this time.

"Not now, Sam!" Dean shrugged Sam's hands-off and grabbed your shirt again, shaking you even harder this time.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, grabbing his brother by the jacket with both hands and picking him up off your body. Dean pushed against Sam's hands, his breath coming in fast and hard as he tried to get back to you. "Dean," Sam said softly this time. "She has a head injury; you can't shake her like that." He let go of Dean's jacket and patted his shoulder compassionately, telling him he completely understood his brother's outburst. Dean nodded quickly and dragged his hand over his mouth, feeling the blood on his skin. He looked down at his hand, and his lips parted at the shock of seeing it covered in blood. At that moment, he realized how much pain he was in; he collapsed into Sam’s chest when his leg gave out suddenly. Sam caught him and moved to the bed, helping Dean sit down next to you and looking at his leg. Dean kicked his jeans off and saw the wicked-looking gash across his thigh and dragging over his knee. He winced at the sight of blood and his torn flesh.

"How did you get so lucky? That wendigo tore me and Y/N apart." Dean asked Sam, who seemed unharmed.

“I have a bullet wound on my arm from when Y/N shot at it and missed it," Sam said, his voice was eerily calm.

“You have a bullet…Sam!” Dean screamed. He started looking at Sam's arms, and sure enough, there was a hole in his left jacket sleeve with a stream of blood trailing down.

"I'll worry about it later. You could bleed out." Sam said, getting out the stitches and gauze. He moved his left arm as little as possible, stitching his brother to the best of his abilities. Dean distracted himself by looking over at you, your face peaceful on the puke green bedspread. He couldn't imagine what would happen if you didn't wake up. He didn't want to look in the rearview mirror again if you weren't curled up in the back seat, your eyes catching his every once in a while. He didn't want to fall asleep at night without listening to your quiet breaths, even and steady. How could he manage another hunt without being able to celebrate with you after? He didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t let himself fall into that pit of despair.

His thoughts were interrupted when Sam accidentally stabbed him; he mumbled a “sorry” and kept working. He finally finished, wiping away at all the blood and standing up. He handed Dean the gauze and flopped down next to him on the bed, slowly taking off his jacket and shirt. His hands clenched from the pain. Sam turned so Dean could clean and inspect the wound for bullet fragments. Finding none, he wrapped Sam’s arm in gauze. The brothers then passed a bottle of whiskey back and forth between them, looking back at you with every sip. Sam placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder, sending him a small smile.

“She’s gonna be okay." He said. Dean didn't answer; he just kept staring at you lying on the bed.

“Sam I…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to finish his sentence.

“I know, Dean. I know.” Sam nodded his head and looked at the ground. You had been unconscious for about two hours now, and the boys were both growing with anxiety. Sam considered you his best friend. His companion on this long and broken road. He loved you and often showed you, exposing his thoughts and feelings to you when he couldn't count on anyone else. You were like a sister to him, a familial and strong bond that couldn't break. Dean was a different story. You and Dean were more than close. He considered you an extension of himself. He found himself waking before you so you would have a hot coffee when you woke up. He found ways to touch you, to let his skin move over yours for just a moment. No matter how fleeting the time maybe. He wanted to be flooded by you, surrounded by you in the dark of night. To feel your hair tickle his skin. Your scent cascades its way through him and fill him completely. He dreamt of a time when he could look into your eyes, deeply and passionately. Dream of a time when he could run his hands through your hair, feeling the strands slip between his fingers. He thought of you every day. Whispered your name into the night.

Now it looked like you may be slipping away. He could barely stand to look at you, knowing how badly you were hurt. Your skin was starting to bruise. A grotesque handprint was on your bicep where the wendigo had grabbed you and thrown you into the cave wall harshly. He scowled at the memory and swallowed thickly. He moved and limped his way into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water. He limped back to the bed and signaled to Sam to help him move you into a more comfortable position. He laid your head on the pillow while Sam straightened your legs before moving to his bed.

“Want me to stay up?” Sam asked.

"Nah, Sammy, I'll watch her," Dean responded, sitting back down next to you on the bed.

"Okay, wake me when she wakes up," Sam said around a yawn. Dean gave him a small smile and lifted your hand in his, beginning to wipe the dirt from your skin. He gently wiped all your exposed skin, pushing the hair away from your forehead. Your chest was moving slowly but surely, up and down, giving Dean a sense of peace. He moved toward the head of the bed and leaned his back against the headboard, stretching his aching muscles. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey again and watched the amber liquid slosh in the glass. His eyes kept wandering back to you, worry evident on his face.

Your face twitched first, eyebrows furrowing and lips curling. You moaned and rolled your head slowly, eyelashes fluttering open.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t move too much.” Dean said. He pulled himself over to you and grabbed your hand within his, looking into your fluttering eyes with concern. Waking up to Dean was something you could get used to. Jade eyes and freckles were greeting you softly. You groaned and suddenly felt the heaviness in your head. The pounding and splitting ache felt as if someone filled your head with rocks and shook it violently.

“Dean? What happened?” You whispered. Your voice was raspy and weak.

"The wendigo. It threw you against the cave wall. You hit your head pretty badly." He whispered back; his fingers brushed against your cheek as he tried to assess the extent of your head wound.

“Jesus, it's bright in here." You grumbled, lifting your head slightly. Dean tried to wrap his hands around your shoulders to support you. "I'm fine." You mumbled and tried to sit up, immediately regretting your decision. The room spun, and nausea hit your stomach hard. You fell back against the bed and placed your palm against your forehead, your eyes slamming shut.

“Shit, Y/N, just lay down.” Dean’s voice sounded annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“What’s that sound?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“What sound?” Dean asked, looking around the room with wide frantic eyes.

“That ringing! Oh my god, it’s so loud.” You said, moving your hands to your ears.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey!" You heard him talking over you, but the sound was so loud, and you were so tired. Your skin felt heavy on your bones. Your neck was unable to lift your head. You couldn't take the ringing anymore; it was so loud in your head. Bouncing off your skull like bullets. The room began to shrink around you, the corners of your vision becoming dark and blurry. Your eyes closed again, and you slowly sank into the blackness that was calling your name with its warm voice. You felt your body move but didn't wake. Felt smooth leather of the backseat of the impala against the skin of your hands, but didn’t move. You thought you heard Dean's panicked voice saying your name but knew it was just a dream. The soft feeling of sleep surrounding you in its peaceful and calming hold.

Dean grabbed your face in between his hands, his mouth repeating your name over and over again as he watched you fall into the blackness. Sam raced to his brother's side, falling to his knees on the side of the bed, looking at your closed eyes.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed. “No, no, no, no, baby. Wake up for me.” He pleaded, this thumbs rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"Dean, we have to get her to the hospital!" Sam yelled, standing up and putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. He practically pushed Dean off of you and bent at the waist, placing his shoulder into your stomach, wrapping his arm around you, and lifting you as if you were a sack. Your body fell over his shoulder. Your hands swayed, and your fingers brushed against the back of his thighs. Dean pulled pants onto his legs quickly and limped to the car. There was a growing worry between them for your wellbeing. The silent communication that they often shared was thick with concern. Sam drove to the closest hospital while Dean held you in his arms in the backseat. His hands moved over your arms and shoulders. His mouth whispering your name and soft ‘please’s and ‘not yet’s into your hair as his lips brushed your ear.

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The hospital was bright and loud when the boys pushed through the door. Dean limping, his stitches pulling with every step while Sam had you thrown over his shoulder. Nurses ran over to the three of you and helped Sam place you on a stretcher. They wheeled you away, and the boys looked helplessly down the white and sterile hallway. The stretcher rammed through the double doors, and you were gone. The doors closed, and Dean felt his heart sink lower into his chest, hope fading inside him quickly.

Dean was sitting next to Sam in the waiting room for family. The blue plastic chair was uncomfortable and hard against his aching body. He didn't know how to feel or act. His body felt old and used. His mind felt fuzzy and disoriented. He couldn't decide if he was heartbroken or angry. His soul was in a battle between an explosion of anger and pain or silent suffering within his skin. He rested his elbows on his thighs, ignoring the pain against his freshly stitched skin, and bowed his head. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he swallowed them down, not allowing the flood to happen yet. You had to be okay; you had to pull through. You were strong. So fucking strong. You had to wake up, open those beautiful Y/E/C eyes of yours and give Dean that small smirk that made his heart stop.

“Mr. Jacobson?” The doctor asked, looking around the room and interrupting Dean’s thoughts.

“Yes?” Dean said, standing up and limping towards the doctor, Sam right next to him.

“You’re here for Serena Jacobson?” He asked, checking his clipboard. You had this all planned since you started working with the boys. You all had false papers with fake names for insurance purposes. On some, you and Dean were married; on others, you and Sam were married. Dean just happened to be the one who threw the papers down this time.

"Yes," Sam answered this time, swallowing hard and looking at Dean for a moment.

"She suffered a severe concussion and had some brain swelling. At the moment, it is still touch and go; we have her on sedatives that we will slowly decrease, so she wakes on her own." He said. Dean blinked his eyes and furrowed his brow. He couldn't understand what was being said. His world was collapsing around him as his heart rate skyrocketed. His breath became loud in his ears. His body stiff and cold. Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, and his world snapped back to him suddenly.

“But she’s gonna be okay, right? Doc, she’s gotta be okay.” Dean asked, his voice small.

"Right now, that's up to her." He said, his fingers tapped his clipboard as he nodded at them and walked away. The boys found your room, and Dean thought he was going to vomit. The sight of you in that white, clean, and sterile bed made bile rise into his throat, gagging him slightly. A bed that others had laid in, been sick in, and died in filled his body with dread. His feet brought him over to your bedside. Sam stood on the other side of you; he brushed his fingers along your arm. Dean couldn't bring himself to touch you just yet. Your glowing skin looked washed out and dull in the harsh fluorescent lighting. The bruise on your arm stood out against the white sheets. You seemed so small in the bed, so weak and broken, a complete contrast to how you usually were. Dean felt the tears hitting the blanket before he realized he was crying. He couldn't lose you, not yet. Not ever.

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You opened your eyes to a sea of color. Green, blue, yellow, red, pink, and purple surrounded you. You felt warm under the sun, its soothing heat touching your exposed skin. The grass was scratchy under your thighs and elbows. The smell of summer was heavy in the air. It's thick and sticky air pulling into your lungs. Purple and pink flowers poked out of the green grass, their faces turned up towards the sun's light. A small creek tripped and stumbled over stones behind you; the sound of it filled you with peace. The sky was so blue with puffy white clouds hanging in it as if someone threw handfuls of cotton into the air. You blinked and looked around, slightly confused about where you were.

"Y/N! Come here!" A male voice said. You immediately sat up to find the source. Your heart dropped in your chest when you saw him, lips parting and breath catching in your throat at the sight. He looked shorter than you remembered. His shoulders that you used to ride on broad and expansive in his simple white t-shirt. He smiled at you, and tears prickled the edges of your eyes instantly.

“Dad?” You asked, standing up and moving towards him.

“Hey, Y/N/N, I’ve missed you so much.” He said with another smile that stung your heart.

“What is happening? What’s going on?” You asked him, sitting down in front of him.

“You’re hurt, sweetie. We are in a space between earth and heaven.” He answered, his body leaning closer to you.

"The wendigo." You said, remembering your head wound. You looked away at the expansive landscape in front of you, understanding, settling in your bones. "I'm dying." You whispered.

“That’s up to you, Y/N.” Your dad replied, his voice just as warm as you remembered.

“What do I do, dad?” You asked him with a trembling voice.

“Whatever you think is best.” He said back, his hand coming to cover yours, and you couldn’t stop the flood that completely engulfed you with emotion. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his skin. He was right here in front of you, and you couldn't stop the swarm that filled you, breaking down all your walls and sweeping you away. You wrapped your arms around your father and took in his scent, clutching his shirt between your fingers.

“I can’t lose you again, daddy.” You mumbled against his shoulder.

"We can stay for a bit; tell me about your life." He said, his hands running over your back comfortingly. You nodded and sat back again, wiping your eyes and sniffling.

"Well, I'm a hunter just like you raised me to be. I hunt with these two men, Sam and Dean; you would like them a lot. Sam is like my big brother; he looks after me and I him on hunts and just in general. He is brilliant and kind; I enjoy his company so much because there is something about him that reminds me of you," You looked up at him with a small grin; he smiled back and nodded, silently telling you to go on. "then there’s Dean, he’s a bit of a different story. He’s strong, really strong. He’s selfless and compassionate…most of the time.” You laughed lightly. “He buys me coffee in the morning and gives me his jacket when I’m cold. He is a good man, they both are, but Dean…he makes me feel special.” You admitted, allowing yourself to say the words aloud for the first time and loving the warm feeling that spread throughout your veins. Your father smiled at you and nodded his head.

"Sounds like you are doing good, sweetie." He said, with a little laugh that made you smile. You nodded your head for a moment. Your lip started to tremble, and you made eye contact with him and slowly shook your head. There was so much you wanted to say, but only one thing came to your mind.

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you.” You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth.

"That's an option." He said, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. "But is it the best option?" He asked, and you already knew the answer.

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Dean swallowed thickly and finally took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your wrist. Your skin felt cold, and it made him wince. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he couldn't speak the words. He needed to tell you how he felt. He didn't know if you could hear him, but he had to try. Had to unleash his feelings for you to know. He turned towards Sam and cleared his throat, licking his lips and controlling his emotions for a moment.

“Sammy, can I have a minute?” He said, hearing the crack in his voice.

“Of course. I’ll get us some coffee.” Sam said, nodding and walking out the room, leaving you and Dean alone. Dean turned back to you and wrapped his other hand around yours, warming your skin in between his hands. He looked down at your combined hands and opened his mouth, feeling his lower lip tremble with emotion.

"Y/N, I-I don't know what to say. I need you here with me. I need to wake up every day knowing that you are going to tell me, 'it's too early for good, morning is fine.'" He chuckled softly at the memory of your husky voice and disheveled appearance. “Ya know, when we first met, I thought there was no way this super cool chick was going to stick around. I thought you would work the case with us and then leave us in the dust. You didn't; though, you joined the family. I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here, and I'll be right here waiting for you, Y/N, always.” Dean looked up into your face and moved even closer to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Baby, please fight for this. I need you to fight and come back to me. I need you-I just need you, only you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so goddamn much, and you have to wake up, okay? You have to pull through and wake up, because if you don't…I don't know what I'll-." His muscles clenched at the thought of what he would do to save you, eyes closing and tears falling freely down his cheeks. "Come back to me, baby.” He whispered before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. His lips trembled against your flesh, your hair moving from his heavy sobs. He sat up and clenched his jaw. He was beginning to feel numb. A cold and ominous breath was spreading through his body. He felt dead inside. His skin felt just as cold as yours did. His eyes just as unseeing as yours were. His heart is just as slow and unsure as yours was. He felt open and exposed to the violence that stood menacingly in the back of his mind. He let out a shaky breath and licked his lips, tasting the salty tears. He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes.

“Y/N.” He breathed your name into the air. One could mistake it for a prayer.

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You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, closing your eyes and bowing your head. You had an impossible choice in front of you, one that only you could make. It would be so easy to let go and stay here with your father, to live in this happy space with him forever. To get the time back, that was so harshly taken away from you two. It would be so easy to fold and let the sun warm you with its golden light. It would be so easy to watch the clouds roll by until the end of time, laughing in the grass as the creek bubbled in the background. To let someone else handle the hunting for once. Let them clean the blood off their hands. Let them dig graves in the pitch black of night. Let them be the ones stitching up wounds that leave scars along their skin. Let them be the ones who have wounds that no one could stitch up or fix. Scars that cut far deeper than the skin and into the very soul. It would be easy.

"Y/N." A voice called from a distance. A voice you knew all too well, a voice that sent chills down your spine. Dean was calling to you, his voice a breathy whisper. He sounded broken, and it made your heart skip a beat. You closed your eyes and let out a breath. You knew what you had to do.

“I have to go back.” You said, your body curling even tighter into itself.

“It’s not your time yet, Y/N/N.” Your dad said, his strong hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “But when it is, I’ll be here waiting.” He smiled at you, sad eyes letting you know this was the right choice.

“I love you.” Your voice broke around your words.

“I love you too.” He said. You closed your eyes and made your final decision.

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Your eyes opened to harsh light. Everything around you was white; all color gone from your vision. The grass no longer tickled your skin. The air felt cold, and it made your bones ache. The creek wasn't falling over stones anymore, instead replaced by silence. Suddenly, there was a beeping next to you that made you jump slightly. You blinked and turned your head to the side to see Dean sitting next to you, his hands wrapped tightly around yours. You couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face, your eyes softening at the sight of him. You wiggled your fingers that were trapped between his, giggling when his head instantly shot up, eyes wide and lips parted. He looked up at you, and a bright, warm, and happy smile touched his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes slightly.

“Y/N?” He said quietly.

“Dean.” You said, your voice soft and horse. He stood from his chair and stepped closer to you, his hands taking your face between them.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Not yet.” You said, laughing lightly.

------

Sam stepped into the room and saw his brother leaning over you, your eyes were closed, but you were smiling. Dean leaned down and touched his forehead to yours, and Sam backed out of the room quietly, letting you have your space.

------

Dean went to take his forehead off yours; you quickly grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips down to yours, finally letting yourself taste him. He let out a surprised grunt before quickly kissing you back, his fingers twisting into your hair as his mouth opened. He broke the kiss first, leaning back and looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.

"Y/N…I really hope that was more than an 'I'm happy I'm alive' kiss. Because I have been thinking about this for a while." He said, his thumb running over your cheek.

"No, Dean, that was an 'I've wanted to do that for a really long time, and being on the verge of death made me see that I should take chances and tell people how I really feel' kiss." You smiled at him.

“Good, because I have also wanted to do that for a really long time.” He laughed, lowering his eyes shyly.

“I heard you.” You said, taking his hand off your cheek and holding it in yours.

“What?” He asked.

“I heard you say my name when I was asleep. That’s what brought me back.” You said with a small smirk. He looked at you with a combination of embarrassment, awe, and love.

“I was right here.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Waiting for me.” You finished, smiling at the small chuckle that left his mouth.

“Always.” He whispered before connecting his lips to yours once more.

**I didn't know who to tag because I write so little Dean. If you would like to be tagged and you were not, please let me know!

Tags: @spnfanficpond @watermelonlipstick @calaofnoldor

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tintentrinkerin · 3 years

Text

Title: Pink Pulse

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: explicit

Tags: Bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, Witch OC, Magic, Demon Blood!Sam, Horny Idiots, Breeding kink, Dean has a magic pussy, slightly crack!fic

Summary: Dean wants to piss Ruby off and reclaim Sam as his. During a bender he meets Mandrake, a shady witch who offers him help.

Word Count: 4.5k

READ UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3

When Dean Winchester regains his consciousness on this cold and foggy morning, he doesn’t really expect a surprise. He’s been drinking for a day… or maybe two, after Ruby, this damn bitch!, showed up again to lure Sam back. It’s her usual fucked up game, she does that when the angels aren’t looking. Sometimes, Dean knows it, Sam secretly calls her and when he sneaks out, Dean knows where’s going. And when he returns he stinks of blood and skank.

Dean’s head hurts like crazy. It takes several attempts for him to roll from his stomach to his back and then get a grip on the dumpster he’s lying next to and swing his body up. His feet feel jiggly and his stomach seems to be empty but he’s nauseous as hell. He hasn’t been robbed, that’s a good thing, his phone, his purse, even the keys to the Impala are still in his pockets. He checks his phone.

It’s 7.38am. Okay, great. He might’ve just passed out a few hours and if he’s super lucky, Baby is parked in close distance.

His phone shows several texts from Sam and from someone who calls themselves “Mandrake”. Doesn’t ring a bell. Not yet. Rather, Dean browses Sam’s texts which tone switches from mopey, to angry, to frightened and then there are over thirty missed calls. Holy shit, was Dean really gone for just a night? Dean tumbles out the alley and winks at the bright daylight he’s now exposed to. He might call Sam before he really freaks out. Some memories flare up in his brain about the damn fight, and that Dean insisted Sam was caught by Ruby so easily because he was underfucked and needed pussy a little too bad. He still thinks he’s right.

There is something to that word. Pussy. Dean loves saying it, Dean loves eating it, Dean loves everything revolving around it, but when he accused Sam of being a horny underfucked loser craving some, he felt bitter about it. A feeling that he had earlier, before Sam went to Stanford. Now Dean is a grown ass man with the Apocalypse on his heels, he has more pressing issues - or so it seems.

He phones Sam while stumbling through the alleys and trying to find Baby. Damn. His pants feel weird. Like he has a wedgie. In the front.

“Dean! For fuck’s sake, where are you?!”

Dean stops in his tracks and scratches his crotch.

“Chill out, Sammy. I’ll find out where I am, I just need to find the damn car.”

“I was a second away from letting Castiel locate you.”

“Forget the damn angel, I’m on my way.”

Sam scoffs into the phone.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“No, no, I don’t. I thought you’re sucking pussy all night.”

Sam hangs up without another word.

There it is again, this fucking thought. That Sam could be out fucking Ruby while he’s been… what? What exactly happened between nightfall and now? There was a fight, not physical, but Dean has been so fucking close to slap the bitch across the face. Sam stopped him.

Dean finds the pub where he supposedly was drinking his anger away. It’s closed. The “Full Moon”. And it’s been a full moon last night. How damn right poetic. His phone rings.

“Yo, Sammy - wanna apologize and admit you’ve been eatin’ her all night?”

A female voice on the phone laughs. Dean frowns.

“Who’s this?”

“Mandrake. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember jack. Where’d you get my number?”

Dean knows, he should hang up. This is maybe a very bad idea. Give too much away. This woman sounds familiar but a lot of women do, he’s not exactly in celibacy since he’s back from Hell.

“I got it from you, idiot. And I got something else.”

Dean follows the main road for as long as he somehow feels he’s been here before. He surely didn’t drive far from the motel but far enough that Sam wouldn’t find him. This is so not usual for Dean. Being a mopey idiot? Yes. Getting drunk? Also very much yes. It itches in Dean’s pants and when he makes sure no one’s looking he sticks his hands in his boxers.

Holy shit. What the fuck.

Sam can’t focus. He sits at the motel room’s table, trying to do research, but he just can’t block out all of the things that distract him. The flickering TV. The humming of the air conditioning system. His fingernails clicking on his laptop’s keyboard. The thoughts. All of his thoughts combined as sinister and hilarious and frightening they are at the same time. Dean’s been gone for two damn nights. Okay, now he’s back, sitting on the sofa, manspreading. Only in his now deflated looking underwear. Watching something on TV that Sam can’t process. He sees the images, but his mind is racing like crazy around all the other things. The goosebumps on his own arms, the sound of his own breath. He feels the harsh and fast pumping of his heart, circulating his blood. He can feel his pupils dilate. And his legs won’t hold still. He has to move somehow.

Ruby’s blood wasn’t enough last time. The fuck wasn’t enough. Everything aches inside Sam. Anger is like a fist in his stomach but he isn’t quite sure if the anger is the fuel of everything.

He knows Dean hates it when he bounces like this, his legs are shaking and damn, something is pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Of course it’s not something. Thing is, he wants to ignore it.

Dean seems to be calm right now, but he’s sitting right under the air conditioning, the blow is ruffling his hair while he stares on the screen, his arms crossed, legs spread out. He scratches himself. There. Sam follows the movement and gulps.

And then, shit, Sam, stop fucking looking at your brother’s crotch! - but he can’t stop! - Dean isn’t scratching anymore. Two of his fingers press right between his thighs, the fabric rustles, and it turns wet. The fucking boxers get wet. Dean doesn’t even seem to notice, but he should. It’s his body! It’s his-

Sam can’t even think it without feeling a rush of hot blood and sharp imaginary knives stabbing his lower stomach. Pulse spikes up. Pupils dilated. Mouth waters. Sam tries to hide a grunt but he can’t.

“Sammy, you good?”, Dean asks, still rubbing his-

Sam looks at him. He must look like a drug addict in withdrawal. Well, maybe he is. He’s maybe addicted to- it’s all Ruby’s fault. She came when Dean died and she lured him in, now he can’t stop thinking of her warm salty blood in his mouth. Or his teeth on her skin. His tongue-

“Fuck.”

Dean looks irritated.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I don’t even remember most of the fight. It’s only twelve or thirteen days from now and I’m-- I’m normal again.”

Sam inhales. Dean’s scent was building over the last couple of hours and now it’s so thick, musky and intoxicating that it’s hard to ignore it.

“Shut up and take a shower.”

Dean now closes his legs and presses his hands on his thighs. He looks at Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“There’s nicer ways to tell me I still stink of garbage.”

If it was only fucking garbage! Sam is so close to yell it, to jump up, throw the table over or punch a wall.

“You don’t stink.”

“Then what?”

Dean gets up and walks towards the table. His chest is heaving, Sam notices. Breathing heavy. Such a broad chest, covered in goosebumps. Sam feels incredibly sick all of a sudden.

“I can smell…”, Sam needs to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The closer Dean comes the worse it gets.

“Now tell me already, if I don’t stink anymore what’s the problem?”

“Dean, I could smell a chipmunk’s fart from miles away, that is a problem.”

Sam needs to breathe. He jumps up and throws himself over to the window and opens it. He should’ve done that way earlier, he realizes. But Dean is behind him now.

“Unless we have chipmunks with flatulences in here, I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Dean touches Sam’s shoulder. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Oh holy shit, the whole hormonal time bomb erupts inside Sam’s body. When he turns around, he’s sure he looks super frightening to Dean, but he can’t stop, won’t stop and pulls Dean close. Dean freezes. A shaky little laugh.

“Sammy… what…”

“I can smell your pussy”, Sam growls, his lips on Dean’s skin.

Dean doesn’t smell like a woman at all, everything about him is testosterone, if there wasn’t this tiny anomaly about him.

That he got himself hexed by a shady witch.

There’s no struggle against Sam’s force when he pushes Dean against the table and then -- as if he waited for it -- Dean hops on that table, opens his legs for Sam.

“What are you doing?”, he still asks, his green eyes big and glassy, lips a cute pout.

Sam has no answer to that than before: “Your smell drives me mad. I need…”

What does Sam need? His brother? His magical pussy? Or wouldn't it be easier to run away to mountains nearby and scream from the bottom of his lungs until he passed out?

Decisions, decisions.

Dean's face has the colour of fresh pink guava juice, his freckles pop, his eyes pop. His lips part for a second. His tongue flicks. No Sam knows exactly what he needs.

“Do you need it? My pussy?” Dean whispers. He slowly pulls his boxer briefs down to his ass but then Sam needs to help, Dean clings on him, Sam pulls. Dean lays across the - thank GOD, long table and is spread out like a delicious meal, while Sam frees Dean from the fabric. It's more ripping then pulling and Sam groans, shit, he's ripped them apart. But then, when Dean opens his legs even more, lying here on his back like a beetle, helpless and weirdly pliant, the odor of Dean's pussy makes Sam cuss and tumble.

“Fuck, Dean…”

“Huh? Not good?”

Sam is out of words, super-ego just logged out with an ‘I have no power here’ and damn right it doesn't!

Dean's pussy is perfect. Another grunt. Holy shit. Instead of an answer for Dean, Sam kneels between Dean's wonderfully wide spread legs. His brother is the definition of a bottom here. Just opening his legs for anyone. Even Sam. The smell is intense and rich, Sam knows it from the other women he's been with... but Dean has one perfect twist. He smells like Sam's brother, too. Musky and citric. And that makes Sam go lizard brain.

“I need to taste you.”

Dean now even slides closer, his legs lie on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerks up and leans over the table, over Dean's naked body. This pussy is just the material of Sam's wet dreams. His nose rubs Dean's skin under his belly button and Dean moans.

“Do it, Sammy. Fucking do it or I'll push your face in my pussy myself.”

Well. Not the worst threat he's ever received. Sam's hand trails between Dean's legs and when he feels the wetness, a fucking intense wetness that is spread all over. Even the thighs are a little glossy from Dean's fluids.

Sam needs to see. Going down, he pushes Dean's legs apart even wider and dives in between these legs. Pink and juicy, dripping wet. The smells almost knocks him out, makes his mouth water and a generous drop of drool falls from his lips. He cannot fucking take that anymore. And Sam pushes Dean closer to him, winds his arms under Dean's now trembling legs and -

Dean cries out, muscles flex, he kicks out, then sinks down again. Just one damn lick.

Sam is in such rage that he can't be fully a gentleman here and do everything slowly, patiently. He's hungry and his primal urge has taken over. Greedy, he licks up and down Dean's labia, tongue working and opening his brother's pussy up and Dean sounds so fucking hot. No girl or guy ever made him sound so needy and so desperate for a fuck. He tastes just as good as Sam imagines when he sucks the thick and sweet wetness from Dean's pussy, sucks on the folds while his fingers run up and down Dean's thighs and Sam needs one free hand now, his thumb rubbing just above the hood of the clit, other finger just teasing his entrance. Not really pushing it in, just a little rubbing while Sam sucks and licks and circles Dean's clit with his tongue.

Dean feels like he is losing his mind. Not only that Sam really is between his legs and gives him mind blowing oral sex, fuck, Dean loves it. He thought Sam was angry but the way he devoured Dean's pussy, anger was definitely gone. He can't stop moaning and winding and his hands in Sam's hair. When he looks down and sees his brother's face up and down, he looks very focused on what he's doing. And in Dean feelings build up, it's a heat and a tumbling, never felt like this.

In a moment of taking a deep breath and Sam looks up, Dean's juices run down his chin and in the collar of his shirt. “Dean, you taste so good…” he says and bites in Dean's thigh. Doesn't hurt. “Better than anything.”

Dean shudders. He needs more.

“Sammy, keep going.”

Sam smirks, his thumb circling Dean’s now swollen and hot clit, his whole pussy is slick with his wetness. No woman Sam ever had sex got that wet.

His thumb is gentle, a perfect rhythm of circling. Stopping. Circling. Stopping. Little pressure. Dean’s body feels on fire.

“Is that what the girls tell you when you go down on them?” Sam asks, his voice rustling leaves.

Dean can’t help but utter a short, almost hysterical laugh.

“I never really listened.”

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Sam clicks his tongue.

“You should’ve. Not only that. Listen to what they say but what-”

Sam finger slides in Dean’s wet pussy with one fast but well adjusted movement. Dean winds and arches his back. Tries to get Sam’s finger away and yet…

“-when they want to escape you, you’re doing it right.”

“Sam, for fuck’s sake! I had enough sex with enough people to know the god damn basics!”

But feeling it himself gives him a whole new sense for it. Sam’s finger moves, wet sounds, in and out and it takes not even a blink and Dean begs for more. Two fingers, holy shit, Sam’s fingers are thick and long and when he starts fucking Dean’s pussy with them while sucking on his clit, the impulse to turn on his stomach and either crawl away or present his naked ass to invite Sam to fuck him -- Dean wants both!

Sam’s ‘come hither’ movements tighten the knot in Dean’s stomach. That’s not what an orgasm feels like for him when he’s about to blow. This is so much deeper, feel tight and hot right up to his lower belly. The noises Sam makes as he sucks Dean’s clit are downright vulgar. And the faster Dean’s breath goes, the more he tries to wind away, Sam’s hand around his upper thigh is a bench vice - he won’t let Dean go. Not unless…

Dean can feel it. He whines “fuck, Sammy, ‘m gonna cum…” and this would be the same moment he came. If Sam just sucked his dick. But this is… slower. And Sam goes absolutely frantic, like a boxer he just goes for Dean’s weak spots and he has definitely found them now and he rubs Dean’s insides, sucks his clit, damn how big can such a tiny thing swell? And Dean fucks himself on these fingers, his rhythm clashes against Sam’s, the bigger the friction, the better. His fingers clench in Sam’s hair and then finally, Dean comes, he feels like exploding, black dots in his sight and he has to close his eyes. His heartbeat goes straight up to his throat, only faint moans, a ‘holy fu…’ but he can’t even finish a fucking curse. Sam won’t stop fucking him, but slower now, more gentle. His tongue presses against Dean’s clit. Dean feels Sam’s breath on his wet skin. Everything tingles still, Dean’s hornystupidmanbrain is on standby, extremities just twitch helplessly.

When Dean opens his eyes he only sees the dirty brown ceiling and the dim light.

“I need a smoke”, Dean blurts out. Oh, the sweet refusal to acknowledge what just happened.

“Fuck, you clenched so hard I thought you would break my fingers.”

Sam sounds so deep, so gravely. Does Ruby hear that a lot?

Dean laughs, trying not to choke on his jealousy. Sam just ate him out. His brother. Just. Ate. Him. Out! Dean feels like he took drugs, heavy, light, euphoric. Not tired. This doesn’t seem to end in a hangover.

“Sam. I really, really wanted that”, another stupid thing to stay. But Dean’s stupid, especially when things are about Sam.

Sam scoffs. “I guessed, otherwise you would’ve punched me to a pulp.”

“Damn right…”

Dean covers his face with his arm, the dim light is too much right now. His breath hasn’t even calmed down yet and somehow, he has to admit, he’s not satisfied. The climax gave him a solid blank for a couple seconds but even now he’s throbbing and wet, Sam’s spit hasn’t made him any drier.

Dean is still a powerhouse of sex, Sam can’t deny it. Resting between his legs doesn’t help but he doesn’t dare to get up and reveal that he is rock-hard and ready. Eating his brother out has been a wild ride already, something he maybe dreamed of as a teenager (but even then - who would imagine Dean as a girl?), of sucking him off like he saw when Dean brought a girl or a dude home. Sam needs to get himself up, slowly, Dean is lying there, arm covering his eyes, but a smile on his face. He grins like an idiot. It’s cute.

Silence.

Awkward.

Sam doesn’t know what to say now, he’s lost control, because his brother grew a pussy. How could you ever explain that? Gladly he doesn’t have to.

Dean gets up, his eyes look teary, but not in the sad I’m-about-to-cry way. He rather pulls Sam close and whispers, something so idiotic, something so innocent, and yet something that makes Sam’s boner grow even more.

“You didn’t even kiss me first.”

“Sorry”, Sam replies, he’s just as stupid.

Dean makes it easy for Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. This is just another short circuit for him and before Sam realizes what he’s doing, his vision turns red. His instincts and his lust are wired to the taste and smell of blood - and Ruby. This is not Ruby. Gladly, this is not Ruby. It’s Dean. The one he thought of when it first happened, the one he was mourning so deeply. Now he gets what he wants from the person he wants. Bingo.

His brother is heavy, but Sam’s strength is to be reckoned with these days. It’s easy to lift him up - Dean’s legs wind around his hips, his ass feels so great. Firm. Dean moans in his mouth when Sam throws him on one of the motel beds and follows, laying his full weight on his brother.

“Sammy…”

Damn, Dean’s fumbling on his zipper.

“You’re big.”

Scoff.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks really intrigued. Sam lets it happen. Dean slides a hand in his boxer briefs and squeezes his raging dick.

“Fuck. Dean.”

These big pleading eyes. Sometimes Dean looks at him like this. And he looks younger than Sam now. Needy. Small. Vulnerable. Sam can never say no when Dean looks like this. He kicks out of his jeans and Dean is so damn impatient. Fabric tears on the seams. Sam doesn’t care.

The way Dean strokes him, the close they are it would be easy, way too easy just to slide inside Dean. Feel his wetness, how tight. How hot. And greedy. Swallowing Sam’s cock like he did with his fingers. Dean stops him. Sam’s heart sinks. It hurts.

“Take everything off”, Dean just says, “I don’t want to feel like quick fuck-”

Sam just has to laugh.

“Never”, he vows and then pulls the shirt over his head and throws it over his shoulder.

The way he towers over Dean, ready to mount, he feels like a steam breathing monster. He really shouldn’t do that. He’s spiralling down to something he never wanted to be. But he can be with Dean this way. Just this once…?

More than once…?

Dean’s legs around his hips trap him now, he can feel the slick wet folds on his cock already and all he can do now is just thrust in. Around his fingers Dean already felt like heaven and hell on earth, but this. Sam hisses, he feels like growing fangs, he digs his teeth in Dean’s neck, he tastes salt and sweat, Dean whimpers but doesn’t complain.

“God… so deep…”, he says. Like he can’t believe it.

“Hurts?”

Dean makes a sound that says ‘nuh-uh’ and that’s enough for Sam. He even pulls Sam closer, his legs force his cock deeper inside this fucking wet and inviting pussy.

This is so much better than Ruby. He needs to fucking forget her. The deeper he sinks, the harder he thrusts and sweat runs down in his eyes and makes them sting, he forgets about what all of this could mean for them. He just wants to fuck Dean silly. And Dean clings on him like he’s drowning in this feeling, no matter how harsh Sam is. His hips are snapping, damn, it must hurt, right? He eventually slows down to kiss Dean sloppily and open mouthed, their moans intertwining and building a cacophony of sounds, loud and rough, soft at the same time. Sam manages to slow down a little and Dean relaxes.

“I want you to fuck me from behind”, Dean mumbles on Sam’s lips, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing deep.

Sam huffs.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Babe.

He almost called Dean babe. Sam winds out, slides out, winces. It feels so good, Dean’s so wet, Dean’s just perfect.

On all fours, arms spread out like a silly yoga pose, back stretched… Sam definitely dreamt of this more than once. This time he pushes in slowly, and Dean arches his back. His breath staggers, yelps. But yet again, after a second of adjusting, Dean starts moving. Fucking himself on Sam’s cock and saying such nasty, irritating, hot things. He mewls and begs for more and then.

“God, Sammy, cum inside me!”

Sam stops. Dean repeats. “Cum inside me!”

There’s no way Sam can deny him, he’s close since Dean started working him like he did it a thousand times already. Sam grips those hips tight, leaves white marks, then pink long traces of his fingernails as he snaps in Dean’s pussy, shit, these sounds. Juicy and full, and Dean’s longing. This is the best fuck. This is it. This is what will blow Sam’s mind for hours, the whole night. Days.

“You want me to breed you, big bro?”, he hears himself say, the animalistic side, awake, fully in rage makes him say it, he can’t stop. “You want me to pump my load in ya?”

Dean nods frantically, his mewling and crying is so pretty. He’s still bouncing on Sam’s cock, his wonderful, round and firm ass, perfect for slapping. And Sam does. Dean whimpers, “please, more, Sammy, more!”

Sam claws at Dean’s hair, pulls it, overstretching his neck. He’s so out of control he might fuck Dean all bruised and sore.

“Touch your clit, c’mon babe, rub it. Cum on my cock and you’ll get it. I’ll knock you up”, whoa.

Dean does it, his hand traces down his body and he starts rubbing his swollen, red, overstimulated clit, squeezes it between his fingers and starts rubbing, circling.. hard to find the thing that gets you going, right? But soon, Dean writhes even more, his voice turns higher. Legs start shaking. “I think I’m gonna-”

He cums on Sam’s cock, clenching and moaning, getting so wet it drenches Sam’s crotch and runs down both their legs. The feeling is amazing, Sam’s checked out once again, babbling “Good boy, good boy” and then shoots a generous load of cum, he tumbles and hips snap and snap, until he’s finished.

They collapse, sweaty and gasping for air, Dean makes incoherent post orgasm noises.

Another period of silence that is only interrupted by the usual motel room sounds that creep back in Sam’s ears. He wants to pull out but Dean claws on his arm, his legs trapping Sam’s.

“No, no. Not yet. Please not yet.”

Sam sinks back and gives Dean what he needs, the closeness. Even though after some time fluids will dry and get cold. It will get sticky and that’s when Sam will have the urge to shower.

Not with Dean. They stay like this for minutes before Dean turns around, Sam lets him. They lay beside each other and the whole scene is hilariously and bizarrely romantic. They keep kissing and Dean’s like the devourer of Sam’s kisses and affections.

Dean rubs his nose on Sam’s, humming. He seems so proud of himself, so satisfied, but then his eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.”

He gets up on one elbow and looks at the mess they made. Cum is leaking out of him and he wipes it from his thigh. Tastes it.

“Dean, really?”

“Hey. It’s only natural. Have you never been curious?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah I was, but I never thought you would be.”

“You know this breeding kink thing. I did that before but I- I mean. Hot fantasy, works with anal but… Do I need an emergency pill now?”

Dean’s face is deadpan serious. Sam clears his throat to hide that he actually wants to laugh. How could he know?

“Just to be sure, I would say a magical pussy isn’t spunk proof. We could get to a pharmacy ...”

Dean falls silent and leans into Sam. There’s so many things unsaid and he’s not in the mood to unpack it. Sam is reluctant either. It’s enough for him to hold Dean close, pet his hair and keep kissing him over and over until they feel in the mood again. That Dean’s been hexed is a secondary matter. They will enjoy it as long it lasts.

Sam goes down on Dean, even when he’s still leaking cum, he just swallows it, he doesn’t mind. And when they get tangled into each other, both thinking ‘well, if he needs an emergency pill we’ll make it worth it’.

Consequences? Which consequences?

Apocalypse might come, they might enjoy every fucked up delightful thing along the way.

#wincest #dean x sam #sam winchester #dean winchester #rating:nc 17 #dean with a pussy #wincest smut

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ejlovespie · 3 years

Text

Crazed (Pt. 1)

Pt. 1 of this series.

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: A hunt gone wrong leaves you with a hex that drives you and Dean crazy with lust.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2016

Warnings: 18+ Please do not read this if you are underage. Language, smut, female & male masturbation with more to come...

You were starting to seriously regret going on this hunt. Sitting in the back seat of the impala, you and the Winchester boys were driving back to the bunker after what you had thought was a successful hunt. After three days you had found and ganked the witch who was causing men in the area to literally go crazy with lust. The witch had a vendetta on men and her favorite flavor was married cheaters. If you were being honest with yourself you understood her anger. A woman scorned and all. However, these guys didn’t deserve to die in the way they did...And now you were thinking you were screwed too.

During the big showdown, the witch had gotten the drop on them. She knew they were coming for her so she was ready when they got there. She had immediately incapacitated Sam, who was lying on the floor in the corner. Then she had gone for Dean; putting him in a choke hold. You stepped in, stabbing the bitch in the back to get her off but unfortunately for you, she mumbled an incantation at you before the lights went out. At first, nothing happened so you had hoped you had gotten lucky. The witch messed up or she didn’t have enough juice left to give her words power. It took about an hour for you to feel anything.

The three of you were headed back, dirty and disheveled from the fight, when a tingling heat started up in your belly. It was low and simmering, leaving you a little breathless but it wasn’t painful, just unexpected and odd. It was actually kind of pleasant but after a few minutes it started to ramp up. Little by little, the tingling was changing and turning into an ache. That combined with being in a small confined space with the two big hunters was starting to frazzle you. The smell in the car was suddenly too much. A mix of gunpowder, gasoline, leather, and the boy’s musky scents didn’t sound like a pleasant combination but you had always liked it. Except it was way too potent now. Filling your nose and making you a little light headed. On top of that, you were way too hot, despite the cold temperature outside. Rolling down the window, you practically stuck your face out like a dog to get some fresh air. You started fidgeting in your seat as the ache kept growing and you became aware of the new wetness in-between your thighs. Why wasn’t the cold air helping?

Dean had noticed all your fidgeting and weird panting. Starting to worry that you were hurt or feeling ill, he turned his head to look at you and said,

“You okay back there sweetheart?”

Dean’s deep, gravelly voice was too much and it caused a reaction in you that you hadn’t expected. His voice made the tingly, aching heat in your belly change into tiny bolts of lust. Gasping, you struggled to breathe without panting and responded as calmly as possible,

“I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”

Sam had been reading something on his phone, oblivious to the situation but now he looked over at his brother, a frown on his face. They were in the middle of a Kansas winter and it was cold in the car, despite the heat being turned on. The boys exchanged confused looks before Sam finally turned around to look at you.

Sam looked at you and instantly knew something was wrong. He noted your flushed cheeks and the light beads of sweat above your lip and brow. He noticed your fidgeting and your quiet but heavy breaths. When you looked up at him Sam’s eyes went wide with surprise. He saw that your Y/E/C eyes had gone completely dark. Your pupils were blown and a heavy expression filled them. Although he hadn’t seen you like this before, he knew it was desire.

You quickly turned your face away from Sam and looked back out at the window. Where were we? How long of a drive would it be until you got back to the bunker? It felt like hours had past but you were struggling to concentrate on anything besides what was happening to your body.

Sam was definitely worried now and turned back to Dean.

“Dean, stop the car.”

You barely heard Sam’s voice and you didn’t register the car pulling off to the side of the road until Dean had parked. Dean gave Sam an annoyed look and then glanced back at you. His green eyes suddenly went wide and his mouth dropped open. Normally, it would have been funny but now you had the focused attention of both Winchester boys and it was devastating to your body. It was too much and your panties were now soaked. You knew if you stood up, there would be a noticeable wet spot on your jeans. Dean’s mouth snapped shut and then he said in a low, husky voice,

“Y/N what’s going on?”

You could smell your arousal now and that thought didn’t even have the time to to embarrass you before it happened. The tiny bolts of lust suddenly ramped up again and a full on orgasm struck you. You came fast and hard, pure lust jolting your body and without permission, a cry left your lips.

Now, both of the Winchester’s eyes went cartoon-ishly wide and their mouths dropped open. Y/N’s eyes slammed shut as her hands gripped the backseat of the impala and a cry of pleasure ripped from her lips. Dean choked on what he was about to say when the most sexual sound he had ever heard came out of Y/N’s mouth. Did she just have an orgasm because that’s what it looked and sounded like. Was that even possible? Not even a second after he thought it, her smell filled his nose. Her musky and sweet sex smell was surrounding him and he was so shocked his brain had short circuited. Without thought, Dean’s hand automatically went to his hardening cock. Suddenly, Sam jumped out of the car simultaneously feeling freaked out and turned on. Why was this happening?

After the orgasm, you had a moment of clarity. Loosening your death grip on the seat cushion you opened your eyes to see Dean’s dark green stare. His thick lips were parted now and his voice was low and seductive when he said,

“Did you just have an orgasm in my backseat?”

The lust in your belly had cooled but now you felt the entire process happening all over again. You realized your nipples were rock hard and rubbing painfully against the fabric of your cheap cotton bra. Suddenly, Sam opened the door and leaned in to look at you more closely.

“The witch. Did she say anything to you before you killed her?”

Oh Shit. With how distracted you had become you had completely forgotten about the witch and what she had said to you.

“Yes. She mumbled something before she died but I didn’t catch all of what she said.”

The heat in your belly was ramping up again, faster this time and you closed your eyes. Taking deep and slow breaths. You focused and repeated the words you could remember the witch saying to you. Sam asked you if she had touched you or if she had slipped a hex bag into your pocket and you shook your head. Sam spoke again.

“Y/N, she must have hexed you. The guys she killed were dying because they were driven crazy by lust and I think the same thing is happening to you.”

You weren't hearing his words anymore and Sam was too close. The mix of his natural musky smell and the hint of his cologne was filling your nose and driving you crazy. You tried fighting the feeling inside you but you had been unconsciously leaning towards Sam. Without thought, you reached for his hand, grabbing it and bringing it to your breast. Sam jerked and pulled away from you causing his fingers to graze over your hardened nipple. You moaned loudly and whined when he backed away. Sam took several steps back, his face on fire and his jeans too tight for comfort. His best friend was in trouble and he couldn’t focus long enough to help her.

Dean on the other hand watched the whole encounter and was pissed. He had always imagined what it would be like. Usually at night, alone in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He would picture Y/N and imagine the way she would look when her beautiful Y/E/C eyes filled with desire and he would wrap his hands in her Y/H/C hair and fuck her until she came for him. He had dreamed about the sounds she would make and the way she would taste and how she would open up for him. Now, he was finally seeing his fantasy come to life and it was all wrong.

Dean jumped out of the car too and stomped over to Sam.

“This is bad Sammy. The bitch is dead so why is the hex working on her?”

You were vaguely aware that the boys were outside and it sounded like they were arguing. Shit. Shit. Shit. The witch really fucked you over. At this point you were starting to loose control again and the ache was consuming you. Your brain wasn’t working right. You touched yourself against your jeans and it felt so good that you started to rub yourself through the fabric. The pleasure was so intense, that you didn’t notice Dean walk back over to you until your eyes flew open and you saw him staring at you. His expression was dark and so sexy. He was leaning towards you in the back of the impala. His large presence and delicious smell combined with the movement of your hand had another orgasm tearing through you. Another loud cry escaped your lips and this time the waves of pleasure kept ripping through you, intensified by Dean’s hungry look. You were moaning and panting now, unable to stop the feeling inside of you. Biting your lip you stared and Dean and he stared back at you with a look you had never seen before.

“Dean. I..It won’t stop...I can’t control myself. Wh..Whatever that bitch did to me, It..it’s going to keep getting worse.”

You panted the words out in between heavy breaths. Dean wanted to lay his hand on your cheek and tell you it would be okay but he was afraid to touch you. Scratch that. He wanted to do a lot more than that but he took a deep breath and reigned in his desire.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. We are going to get you home and figure this out.”

With superhuman strength, Dean backed up, called Sam over and got back in the driver’s seat. For the next few hours, they drove home and it was unbearably tense. The car smelled like sex, even with all of the windows rolled down. Y/N had been making an effort to keep her panting and sexy moaning as quiet as possible but every small sound was deafening to Dean’s ears. He turned some music on to help distract them all but regardless, they sat with their teeth gritted. Every time she came she would cry out and it took everything he had in him to keep driving and ignore her. At one point it became too much and they had to pull over to put hand cuffs on Y/N to keep her from rubbing herself.

When they finally got back to the bunker, Y/N had finally tired herself out a bit and was mewling in her sleep. Dean gently carried her to her room, settling her into bed before quickly leaving. Finally, he couldn’t help himself anymore. He stripped out of his clothes, locked himself in the bathroom, and imagined her and the noises he had been listening to all night. Turning on the shower he didn’t wait for the water to heat before he jumped in and fisted his throbbing cock. Under the icy cold water, Dean stroked himself until he came hard and fast, groaning in frustration that he wasn’t coming with her.

To be Continued...

A/N: This is my first fan fiction so I am nervous but really excited to share it with you. I would love to hear any feedback you have to give. Any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

#dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #spn #spn fanfic series #spn smut #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #dean winchester smut

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

Cold

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: you return to the brothers, battered and at deaths door after being gone for months

Warnings: attack, oc death, it is described a little, I dont think there is much triggering in this but read at your own risk, hurt/comfort

A/N: this is part two to Empty, there will be a part three-Warm. Empty is pretty triggering so I wrote this in case someone has a hard time reading part one, they can pick up here, at part two.

You just had to keep driving, every atom in your body shaking, every ounce in your body wanting to sleep, but you knew, you knew you had to make it back to the bunker. Your body was so tired, you just wanted everything to go away already, but you had to keep driving.

Finally, you arrived at the bunker, seeing the classic Impala in the garage made you start sobbing. Limping to the door, you banged as hard as your body would let you. You leaned against the door, letting yourself rest. No response, maybe they weren’t here and that means it was your time. You banged once more, your body having no energy left, begging for rest, for the pain to end. Finally the door opened, a gun placed in your face, followed by a muted Sam screaming with a fearful look on his face as you collapsed, thankful Sam didn’t let you hit the ground.

You groaned, your entire body lighting up with pain. You felt someone grab your hand, “Are you with me baby?” You flinched, knowing that it was Sam who was sitting by your side, you slowly opened your eyes, groaning as every bone in your body hurt. “Hey,” Sam rubbed the back of your hand, “there you are, scared us to absolute death.” You squeezed Sams hand, “Cold.” With that, you drifted back to sleep, so tired.

“Hey, baby,” Sam shook you slightly, “you gotta wake up it’s been three days. You have eat.” You groaned, moving closer to the warm body in your bed. Sam sighed, you could feel the worry the air, almost taste it. You kept clinging to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he lifted you from the bed, he kept the blanket wrapped around you, and carried you to the kitchen. You weren't really sure what was going on, but you knew that Sam had sat down with you on his lap.

“Drink this baby,” you felt something touch your lips-a straw. Drinking it, you realized it was warm tomato soup. It tasted so good, you didn’t realize you were hungry until now. After a few minutes of eating the tomato soup, you starting coughing, hard and you couldn’t catch your breath. Sam patted your back gently, you squeezed his arm until the fit stopped. “You okay, Y/n?” Dean now at your side next to Sam. Clearing your throat, “Jesus, everything fuckin’ hurts.” Sam and Dean laughed, the first good thing since they opened their door, you’re finally joking.

You raised your head, looking at Sam, “I’m so sorry,” your eyes tearing up, “I-I thought I had it.” Sam shushed you, running his fingers through your hair, “It’s okay baby, don’t worry about it, you’re okay.” Kissing your forehead he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, giving you the tomato soup back. You finally started to feel a little warmer. That's when the pain of the scratch that spanned from your thigh twisting down to your ankle started searing with pain. You weren't sure how deep any of it was, how damaged you actually were, just that it all hurt.

You put your arm around Sam’s neck, it was nice to be back home, you just wish it could’ve been under better circumstances. “Really,” your voice cracked, barely able to speak, “it fucking hurts.” Dean was there with some kind of medication, two very different kind of pills, “One is for the pain, the other is for sleep so you can heal, we really needed you to eat, Y/N.” You happily swallowed the pills, Sam going to pick you back up and immediately stopping when you whimpered. “Okay, we’ll stay just like this for now.”

When you woke back up you were in Sam’s room. God it had been so long since you were able to breathe in the scent of the love of your life. Your breath taken from you in a fit of coughing. Sam comes rushing in, handing you an inhaler. For a second you didn’t understand, but you trusted him. Once you had used the inhaler it felt a little easier to breathe. “I figured you’d need one when you woke up, you had a coughing fit nearly every ten minutes in your sleep.” You smiled at him, trying to catch your breath.

It was time to get up and get moving, you’ve been through far worse. You scooted to the edge of the bed, biting through the pain, wincing when your left foot hit the ground. “Hey,” Sam put his hands under your biceps, waiting for you to try and stand, “it’s okay Y/n, wherever you wanna go I’ll take you.” You sighed, putting your arms at your side,”I want to go to the kitchen, I want some-deep wheezing breath-real fucking food, I’m so hungry.” Sam smiled, gently putting his arm under your leg and around your back, carrying you to the kitchen.

Dean saw you and jumped into action, following you to the kitchen. “Ready for some good ol’ fashion grub, Y/n?” You laughed, “Yeah, could you make me a burger?” Sam rolled his eyes at that, he was always outvoted when it came to rabbit food and you and Dean. “Oh, yes ma’am,” Dean started to get the ingredients out of the fridge, mumbling to himself, “speakin’ my language now.”

As Dean was cooking, he turned to you, “You feeling better?” You smiled, “Definitely more than a few days ago,” he sat across from you, getting serious. “Y/n,” his eyes never left yours, “what happened? You disappear and months later show up to our door with one foot in the grave. What were you doing hunting by yourself?” You let a stay tear fall, “I wasn’t by myself.” Sam and Dean both looked at you like they had been stabbed, “What do you mean?” You laughed a little, the events of the werewolf hunt was something you didn’t know how to process. You thought back to the day you said goodbye, to the note you left.

Sam, forgive me. I will come back to you.

“After-” you cleared your throat, “after I left, after the djinn, I called Andrea,” your voice cracking again, “I don’t know if you remember her, she was the red head you’d never believe could hunt.” Dean flipped his burgers and started cutting vegetables for your guys’ burgers, both boys listening intently. “We had been hunting together all this time, she was pushing me to come back home but-” you laughed, “I was afraid to, afraid that you guys didn’t love me anymore, so we kept running and hunting.” Sam started to say something, but Dean shook his head, wanting you to finish. “We found a werewolf, about an hour or two from here, we thought we had it, I-I thought I had it, but it-” you wiped away your tears, “Andrea was just gone, she was laying on the ground in a pool of her blood, no way she could’ve survived that.” You sobbed a minute, lost your composure and then quickly regained it.

“I tried to shoot it, but there must've been two,” you glanced over your leg, covered in bandages, “I was thrown into the lake, I waited as long as I could to come out.” Sam was petting you, running his fingers through your hair, kissing your hands, thankful you made it back alive and trying to comfort your loss. “When I finally made it out, Andrea’s body was gone, I somehow made it back to the car, back here to you guys, I didn’t know where else to go.”

Dean sighed, knowing what it felt like to lose a best friend, knowing it would be hard to say anything to console you. “You made the right choice,” Sam whispered, “to come back to us, to me.” He kissed your forehead, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. As Dean made the burgers for all three of you, Sam whispered, so quietly that you weren’t sure if he meant for you to hear.

“I could never stop loving you.”

You looked up to Sam, placing your hand on his cheek.

“I will always come back to you.”

You brought your lips to his, missing the feeling of his stubble stinging your lips. Slowly taking in this kiss like it was the last one you’d ever have, his tongue pressed into your mouth, begging to be able to have you again. The taste of your mutual tears lingering in the kiss pulled you out of it. “I’m okay, I made it back to you, you’ve got me,” barely above a whisper, trying to help Sam calm down. Sam placed his hand on your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, just taking you in. Taking in your whole essence, finally able to touch you again.

Dean cleared his throat, both of you jumping a little bit, “The burgers are done, chick flic wannabes.” You all chuckled at that, but knew that Dean was just trying to bring the tone down. He was just as happy to see the woman he claims as his sister. “I have to say, Y/n,” Dean looks up from the burger he is absolutely devouring, “you have a perfect idea of how to cover your trail.” You laughed, almost choking on your burger, nodding your head. “I tell you, don’t ever do that again, we had to look for odd disappearances that just stopped, we just got back from- mmm some witch I think in-” you slapped your hand on the table laughing. “I know where, it was in Antelope Valley California, sons a bitches almost got us, we-” you had to put your burger down, “definitely not witches, fucking ghost children, you believe that shit?” You laughed, coughing a little, “I couldn’t convince Andrea until she saw one herself!”

All three of you laughed, until you stopped, your heart aching for Andrea, “I’ll miss her.” Sam hummed, “I know, what a firecracker of a hunter.” You laughed, “Really! The bitch was crazy!” You all laughed again, and for the first time since you’d left so many months ago, you didn’t feel so empty.

#supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fluff #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x y/n #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fluff #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean fluff #hurt/comfort #sam fluff #tw fanfic #tw fanfiction

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester: What's left behind

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Deans

Warnings: Talking about past fights, including scars, Dean, Fluff, Dean!Fluff, laying in bed together, swearing, mentions of past smut, verging on implied smut, playfulness, Sassy reader.

Summary: Laying down with Y/n she starts to point out all my scars and tell her some stories I've not told anyone else.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is for band--psycho 1.5k followers Bingo Challenge. I'm so excited that I get to be a part of this writing bingo challenge.

Square- Scars

Masterlist

Taglist: @band--psycho @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69

Y/n had just showered and was getting ready for bed. We'd already been together for so long that it had turned into a traditional thing for the two of us.

Every time that Y/n showered and we were going to be in bed I'd give Y/n a shirt of mine and she wears just that and a pair of panties. Seeing as we were just going to bed. There wasn't a single night that we didn't do that cycle.

Y/n would grab the remote to the TV, and I could turn our bedroom overhead light off, turning on the side table light instead. Y/n would climb under the sheets of our bed, grab a book and throw the remote in my general direction.

I'd climb under the sheets., and flick through the man channels that we have. Before landing on the same stupid cartoons that I wasn't able to watch as a child seeing as I was taking care of Sam.

After a few episodes of cartoons, Y/n would put her book down along with her reading glasses and cuddle up with me. Ask me what we were watching. "We're watching scooby-doo. I think it's actually an older version of the cartoon." I said this time around.

She snuggled closer and draped her uncovered leg over my pajama pant leg. The pajamas always make her laugh. The ones that have hotdogs printed them. My shirt grazing over my bare chest.

This is how we fell asleep. Snuggled close to each other, our arms wrapped around each other in the most intimate, protective sort of way. This night was different though.

Y/n started to trace my light scars that covered my body. The ones from being stabbed, or shot during a hunt. Or just the simple more domestic ones like the cuts I get while I shave my jaw.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" I asked her, truly wondering what had gotten into Y/n.

"You know, we do the same thing every night. I have seen you shirtless many times. In many different situations, and I've never asked you were certain scars come from. Talking about the ones that came before I was in your life, baby." Y/n said still tracing scar lines.

“You want me to describe my scars?” I asked her. A little confused as to what Y/n was asking me. “Yes, you goofy! What do you think I was asking?” Y/n said rolling her eyes and smirking at me.

“Okay, I get that. Pick a scar and I’ll try to tell you the story of said scar.” I noted.

Y/n grazed her fingers over my shoulder, down my forearm, around the side of my stomach, and then she abruptly turned me to my side. Tracing her hand down the back of my spine. Then Y/n turned me back around on my back. Pointing at the scar that was on my stomach.

It was a long slender cut. It was about midway down my stomach right above my belly button. “This one, Deanie. Tell me the story of this one.” Y/n voiced.

I had to think for a moment. Going back recalling the memories and fights of old hunts. “Let’s see this is a scar from about six years ago. Sam, and I were on a hunt to kill a Ruagru. It was down in South Carolina. The town was on the smaller side.” I stated. I took a breath in and then let it go, and continued talking.

“The drive was nice, and it was during the summer. So, the three layers of clothes and long flannels needed to come off. This time around Sam and I only had one layers clothes on. We went ahead and did the research for the hunt. The town was losing many kids. The kids in the morgue had they had absolutely no blood in their bodies. That was odd for the small town to deal with.”

Y/n tapped my shoulder, “Is this story a long one?” She asked giggling. “Patience my dear child!” I said starting to tickle her sides. “TELL the story, Dean!” Y/n shrieked. “Okay, okay I’ll tell you the story.” I spoke.

“Sam eventually found out where the ruagru was staying. He found out like the little hacker he is by duh hacking into the tariff lights and such and tracking them down that way. It was of course an old barn, down an old torn up road deep in the woods. Like really, but whatever right. So, we grabbed our shit from the back of baby and got to work. Now let me set the stage for this hunt.”

Y/n hummed in a response for me to continue.

“The barn was old like I have already said, the outside was painted red, but it was so old that most of the paint had come off already. The inside was much different, it was fixed up and made to be livable I would assume. Sam and I snuck in through an open space near the doors of said barn. Sam had a Molotov cocktail, and I had a weapon that looked fucking awesome.”

I said with excitement flowing through my words. Y/n raised her eyebrows and shook her head. Like I was child who had just said the stupidest thing ever, but she doesn’t want me to know.

“It was just a demon killing knife, I bet.” Y/n said rolling her eyes.

“Hey, hey now don’t ruin my story now.” I spoke. Hushing her and continuing on telling my story.

“So yes, a demon killing knife is was I had. I walked in first being the over protective brother that I am. Sam behind me and ready to throw his Molotov cocktail. I was ready for anything if there was more than just one monster. When we finally found the ruagru I guess I must have startled them because they turned around and were in my face within seconds. Within seconds after that they had picked me and thrown me all the way through a wall. The old sherds of woods grazing past my stomach.”

“OH, ahhh!” Y/n said being a smartass.

“Don't be a smartass Y/n. Let me finish the story you so gracefully wanted.” I spoke.

She shrugged and bumped my shoulder with hers. Letting me continue telling my story.

“I didn’t realize until long after Sam and I had killed the ruagru was killed that I was bleeding through my shirt. Sam was actually the one to realize that I was bleeding. I was so mad when that shirt got ruined by the time, we were able to clean our clothes the next time. I ended up throwing away the shirt.” I said with a sad tone behind my voice.

“What was on the shirt?” Y/n said a worried expression on my face.

“You know to think about it now, I think it was an ac/dc shirt, or maybe an old guns and roses shirt that I had found in a local thrift shop at one point long ago. To be honest with you I hadn’t really thought about that since that moment.” I said shrugging my shoulders.

“Can we do one more, before we go to bed?” Y/n asked me nuzzling up closer in to my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and roughly brought her as close as we could possibly be to each other.

“Sure baby, choose away!” I said, a yawn ending my sentence.

She looked around and ended up landing on the cut just underneath my jawline. She outlined it and then said; “What about this one?” Giving Y/n a rather confused expression I made sure that was the one she wanted next. “Are you sure? This one doesn’t really have a great story behind it.” I spoke.

“Duh you goof I realized that, but still, I want the story for this one.... PRETTY PLEASE!” Y/n said screaming the last part. I looked over at her, with my eyebrows raised far up on my forehead. She giggled when she looked up at me, “I’m right here sweetheart. There’s no need to scream!” I whispered. “Whatever you say grandpa.” Y/n came back with.

This time my mouth was wide open my eyebrows still far up on my forehead. I rolled my eyes and closed my mouth. “I’m just going to forget that statement and start my story.” I said, “So, this little scar is actually from when I shaved for our first date.” I said getting thought in thoughts about our first date.

Y/n wore a beautiful short red dress, paired with a pair flats. Y/n pretty much had no make-up on and wore her hair naturally. I took her not to a bar, but an actually four stared restaurants, not that far from the bunker. That night ended very much at the front of Y/n’s bedroom door.

But I remember as I went to walk back to my room. I was pulled by my wrist into Y/n’s plump lips. Now I’m not going to say kissing Y/n didn’t make me feel like a teenager all over again but that’s pretty much what it felt like.

That night we went slow mostly because I knew in that moment when Y/n pulled me into her lips that I wanted to be with her forever. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. That only made everything else feel more heightened.

I went slow with her, learning the curves of her body that night. I just listened to her body, I wasn’t trying to show off, or make her remember me. That was something we could do later, but in that moment, I just want to feel her and be with her in every single way.

I was forcible pulled from my thoughts when Y/n jerked my arm rather hard. “What!” I said a stream of worry flowing through my bones. “Nothing, don’t get you panties in a wade. I just was wondering if you were done telling that story?” Y/n asked with raised eyebrows

“Umm. To be honest with you. All I can remember from that night was how beautiful you looked, and how that night at your bedroom door that I wanted to spend that rest of my days with you. I knew right then that no matter what Chuck said or what Billy said that we were going to be together because I love you.” I said kissing her lips.

Just like every time I kiss her lips it reminds me that she isn’t going to leave. That we are together through anything that could possibly be chucked at us. It reminds me that I’ve got everything I need and it’s all in the room.

When we released each other lips, Y/n looked at me, with bruised lips and said; “I love you to y’know. I remember that day so vividly too. You were wearing your normal jeans and a nicer shirt; we went to a four-star restaurant, I think. I remember you dropping me off at my bedroom door. I so wanted to kiss you before I shut that door, but I couldn’t balls up. I guess that thought of this never happening was too overpowering because the moment I heard your shoes start to fade I opened the door and took the best leap of my life. I love you too Dean.” Y/n said.

Y/n kissed me again in the process ended up in my lap. “Y’know we always end up like this.” I stated as Y/n kissed down my neck. My hands falling down to hips. “This is going to end up with you being submissive, and taking me so well dear.” I spoke. Digging my nails into her hips. She bucked.

“Not too fast naughty boy. Treat your girl to a show first” Y/n said winking at me, before somehow getting out of grasp and running out of our room and down the hall. “Let’s play a quiet game of tag baby. Oh, and just to let y’know. You’re it Dean.” Y/n said running down the hall.

“Yeah, yeah. You better keep running little girl. Because once I catch you. You will be bombarded with kisses all over your body.” I yelled as I followed her around the bunker halls.

“He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none” - Madeline Miller, Circe.

Completed on: 04/07/2021

#band-psychos bingo challenge #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #writing challenge #dean x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #supernatualfluff #fem reader #fem #feminine #spn #spn fluff #talking about the past #minor swearing #swearing tw #pastsmut #mentionsofsmut

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chxrrysangel · 3 years

Text

The Diner

Part Two | Masterlist | Part Four

Summary || Bucky surprises Diana with a lunch date, opening up a box of even more shocking revelations

Pairing || fakeboyfriend!bucky x black!ofc

word count || 1,704 words

Warnings || language, fluff, pet names [ darling, doll face, angel, love ]

“Alright everyone, class dismissed.”

“I genuinely despise this class.” I look over to my best friend, watching her fold up the small blanket she carries to sleep in the boring lectures. I don't know how she does it and still passes.

“Well Nat, blame the Dean my love. She’s the one that made Smith a Psych teacher.”

“Ugh, Williams and I have beef for that one.”

“Definitely. C’mon we gotta go before she starts yelling.”

Nat and I quickly make our exit through the lecture hall, careful not to agitate Professor Smith with our supposed-“loitering.”

“So Di, where are we eating today? Steve told me about this new restaurant in town and he wanted to bring everybody there today. Wanna come?”

“Well—”

“Hey, doll face.” My head snaps to down the hall, seeing a certain long-haired biker boy.

“Bucky, hey!” I run from Nat towards him, wrapping my arms him.

“That good enough for you?,” I whisper in his ear.

“Perfect,” he whispers back.

“Bucky and Diana…never thought I’d see this happen.”

Hearing her voice, I untangle myself from Bucky’s arms and smile sheepishly.

“Nat, I was gonna tell you—”

“No babe, it’s alright. I’m sure you would’ve eventually. So Bucky, what’s up?”

“Well, I’m stealing your little lady and taking them to lunch.” Nat smirks at his words, before shooting me a knowing look.

“Alright. But don’t forget to return her at some point. Her next class is in two hours.”

“Yes, ma’am. C’mon Walker. I got a special place to take you to.” He doesn’t wait for Nat to say goodbye before he’s tugging me along, hand wrapped around my waist.

“So James, where are we going exactly?”

He grins at my inquisitive nature. “You’ll see darling. Don't worry.”

~~~~

“Oh my god no way!” I practically tackle Bucky in the concrete parking lot, overcome with excitement over where he took me.

“This is the diner we went to last semester to take breaks from studying. We spent so time here.” I smile at the memories of us playing table football and drinking milkshakes between late night study sessions. Whenever we started to get burnout, Bucky would take me here because “good food heals the soul”. Or something like that.

“Well, I figured out you didn’t know the address by the lack of appearances you made after you helped me. So I thought I’d bring you back. Now come on, food awaits.” He grabs my hand in his, pulling me through the door of my favorite 50’s diner.

Walking in, I realize how little has changed since the last time I’ve been here. The black and white checkered tiles are still there, including that lone set of two black tiles next to one another. Pink and blue leather still accents the space, and the waitresses still wear Robin’s blue uniforms with hoop skirts. I love it here.

“Hey, Bucky! How you doing darling?”

“I’m good Janet. Table for two?”

“Two? Oh Diana, hey sweetheart. I haven’t seen you in a long long time. ‘m glad you’re back.”

“Hi, Janet. Glad to be back.”

I’m not surprised Janet didn’t see me considering half of me is hidden by standing behind Bucky. He’s a pretty good hiding spot when you’re nervous. I watch Janet take two menus and motion for us to follow her. She stops as a booth in the back, winking at Bucky before heading off to take orders. I’m assuming she’ll be back later.

“M’lady. Your seat.” Bucky bows, holding his hand out towards my side of the booth. I laugh at his ridiculousness, before sliding into the red leather booth.

“You’re suck a dork.”

“Well technically, I’m now your dork. At least a fake one. So, you’re stuck doll face.”

“Unfortunately.” His face drops in feigned hurt and my words, putting a hand on his heart as if I struck him.

“Wow, Di. I’m pained, truly pained by your confession.”

“Deal with it, Charming. That's just how I am." Something sparkles in Bucky's eyes, making me feel slightly anxious

"Charming, huh?"

"Yeah, Charming. Like Prince Charming. Personally, I think you look most like Prince Eric, but Charming is close enough."

"Walker, I'm truly honored. " He smirks, mischief evident on his features. I can see the wheels and gears turning in his head across the table.

"Well, don't get a big head about it James. Or I'll never give you another compliment again. Anyways, I'm gonna head to the bathroom. Be right back."

~~~~

When I walk out the bathroom, I find Bucky still sitting at the table. Phone in hand, tapping away at the screen, and constantly running his hand through his loose waves, he looks quite unapproachable. He's in distress. I don't like when Bucky is stressed. He becomes irritable, snappy, and hard to be around. So I tread lightly towards our table.

"Hey Buck, you alright?"

He doesn't answer for a few moments, lost in whatever is happening on his phone.

"Bucky?". Still nothing.

"James?." His head perks up this time, eyebrows furrowed with a frown etched into his features.

"Yeah, doll face?" I chuckle before sliding into the booth.

"So you answer to that, but not the name you normally go by?" His eyes flicker back to his phone, typing away again.

"Well, you normally call me James anyways and it doesn't seem like you're gonna stop anytime soon. So I'm not used to hearing you use Bucky." He continues to type away, barely paying attention my presence. I don't like when people text while talking to me, so I snatch the phone away. He begins to protest, but looking at the harsh glare I'm sporting causes him to stay quiet.

"Who's texting you anyways?"

"No one." I sigh, annoyed with his lack of honesty.

"Bucky if we're gonna do this, you have to be honest with me. I haven't lied to you yet, so don't lie to me." By his lack of argument, I presume his believes I'm right.

"Fine, it's Steve. Happy now?"

"Steve? Why's he texting you? I thought you weren't friends." I motion to his phone password, silently asking if I can open it and he nods. Still haven't changed the password I see.

"We're not. But it seems that a little birdie told him about you and I, so now he won't stop blowing up my phone and asking me questions. I thought he blocked me to be honest."

"Do you mind if I look at the texts? Or is that something you want to keep private?"

"No, go ahead. I trust you." I grin at his words. Aw, he trusts me. I'm so gonna make fun of him for this later.

"Uh uh. Diana, I see that twinkle in your eyes. Don't get a big head about it."

"Too late, bubs. I've already got one. You trust me, how cute." I reach over and squish his cheeks, causing him to slap my hands away in agitation.

Okay, the texts.

Buck, you're dating Diana?!? Wtf since when?

Why does it matter?

It doesn't, I'm just asking.

Don't you have a gf Steve? Why ARE you asking?

Shut up, she’s one of my closest friends. I need to protect her from bad people.

And I'm bad people huh? You're not her fucking dad. Lay off.

I'm just being a good friend.

Sure you are.

I was not expecting this in the slightest.

"Buck, Steve sounds..."

"Jealous?"

"What! No, not jealous. You sound dumb. Why would he be jealous, he has Nat."

Bucky doesn't answer, just smiles at me and shakes his head. I give him a questioning look.

"Are you really this clueless about relationships and love?"

Ouch. Stab me in the heart while you're at it.

"I am not clueless. I've just never been in a relationship before. Is that such a bad thing?"

"You've never been in a relationship before? You? Don't lie to me Angel. "

"What? I'm not lying." He stares at me, eyes demonstrating distrust.

"Alright, why?"

"No one's ever liked me like that." Bucky looks at me like I'm a complete moron and snorts.

"Yeah, right." He's confusing me.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, y/n. Absolutely nothing."

"Well at least I wasn't fawning over a girl for multiple years and didn't have the guts to ask her out. Hm?"

"You're one talk. Steve?"

"I do not have a crush on Steve."

"Right, of course you don't. It's not like you asked a random guy to pretend to be your boyfriend so he doesn't think you like him. And the only reason that it would matter that he thinks so is if you actually did have a crush on him." I could break his neck right now if I wanted to. I really could.

"You're full of shit Barnes. Complete and utter shit. And you're not a random guy either."

"I mean if you think so darlin', so be it." He smirks like he knows something I don't and it make me feel queasy.

"So, what are we gonna do about S--"

"A burger with fries and a patty melt combo with two vanilla Root Beers?"

I'm cut off by Janet arriving at our booth, a tray of food in her hands. I didn't even order. My eyes flicker over to Bucky in confusion and he grins.

"Thanks, Janet. We'll call you back later for dessert, yeah?"

"No problem, sugar plum." Bucky takes the plates from her, divvying up the items to their respective sides.

I look at Bucky with confusion written all over my face, watching him dig into his burger and pay me no mind. I didn't even order. How could he-- he remembered my order. From six months ago, he remembered by order. I check the sandwich to be sure. Cooked onions, pepper jack cheese, no pickles on the side. It's all there.

"You remembered my order." His eyes move up from his sandwich and he looks at me like I didn't just say something spectacular.

"Yeah, so? It's not a big deal, Diana. Don’t make it one. Now as you were saying, how are we gonna take Steve down and get him to believe this?"

It's Not Real tag list:

@vicmc624

#fakeboyfriend!bucky #fake relationship #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #romanogers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #mcu au #bucky x reader

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i-call-me-clarence · 3 years

Text

Life’s a Cemetery (Dig It)

Kevin and Jack get their hands dirty on grave duty.

Rated G

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Fic below the cut

----

“You sure you’re good?” Dean asks for the third time.

“Kevin is here, and if anything happens we have angel blades and silver bullets,” Jack answers, making a little wave motion at Kevin who’s silently asking him how much longer he’s going to be on the phone. Kevin rolls his eyes and goes back to leaning on his shovel, refusing to start digging until Jack joins him. Jack doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer, “Dean, I’m sorry, but I have to--”

“And you’ve got the iron poker, right? And the holy water?”

“We still have everything in the pack you left us.”

“But did you double-check? A real hunter always double checks, triple even--”

Before Jack can respond Kevin is taking the phone from Jack’s hands, “Believe it or not the ex-god and current prophet know what they’re doing. Bye.” and he hangs up the phone.

Jack gives Kevin an apologetic shrug of his mouth as Kevin hands back the phone, slapping it into Jack’s hand. “He’s protective.”

“He’s turned into a helicopter parent. If I wanted that I’d just go back home.”

“But that would put your mother at risk.” Jack tilts his head in confusion.

Kevin rolls his eyes and tosses Jack a shovel, “Come on. Let’s get this done before the sun goes down.”

---

Three hours after sunset and they’re still digging. Jack started feeling lightheaded thirty minutes ago, and it’s gotten to the point where he needs to sit down.

“I’m sorry, I have to--” Jack ends up thunking down on his butt before he can finish.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kevin asks warily, stopping his digging and leaning against his shovel, “Is the talisman wearing off or something?”

“I--I don’t have a talisman,” Jack’s body is shaking and he’s starting to feel nauseous. Perhaps he should have listened to his body hours ago when it screamed at him to rest. But Kevin had kept going and he’d said he wouldn’t dig alone so…

“You don’t have an energy talisman?!” Kevin gaps at him and drops his shovel, “Are you kidding me?! You do realize you’re basically human now?”

How could Jack forget? Being human was so difficult that it was impossible not to be reminded of it constantly. Even when he slept. He didn’t use to sleep as a Nephilim...or as God. But Amara’s taking care of that now. Letting Jack have a ‘normal childhood’ as she’d said. Something she was envious of and didn’t want Jack to miss. ‘Even Chuck let himself have one. After he invented the concept.’ when she’d told him that it was clear she was hiding a deep sadness. Jack had decided after his childhood was over, he’d take over as God again so she could have one too.

“How are you even standing?!”

“I’m...not.”

Kevin looks at Jack, taking notice of the way he was starting to sway a little. Before cursing and getting down on his knees next to Jack.

He grabs a hold of both sides of the necklace his talisman was supposedly attached to, “I’m going to regret this,” Kevin groans, before taking off the necklace and holding it out to Jack. A green light pulses from Kevin’s chest, swirling around his arm, before being sucked into the little medallion hanging from the golden chain in Kevin’s outstretched hand.

Jack quickly takes the necklace, seeing the sudden strain in Kevin. As soon as he has it, Kevin lays back with a dull thud as his body hits the earth.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, suddenly breathing very heavily. “Worst part about that talisman,” he pants, “After you take it off, you feel every bit of exertion. All at once. Oh, I’m gonna die.”

Jack puts on the talisman and instantly feels better. Better than he’d felt since turning human. He wonders what would happen if you kept the necklace on all the time--

“And if you’re tingling from the charm and wondering ‘why can’t I wear this all the time,’” Kevin says in a deep mocking voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean, “Just look at me after five hours. Imagine a week, or even just a whole day.”

“It kills you?”

“It kills you.”

“I can finish this alone.”

“Yeah, but first,” Kevin tried to sit up, grunting in pain, “Help me out of this damn hole.”

---

It had been an hour since Jack started digging by himself, making a grand total of eight hours. Just a constant monotony of stab scrape shovel. At least Jack felt pretty good with this talisman, and at least they were almost done.

Stab, scrape, shovel. Stab scrape shovel. Stab--THUD!

Jack gasps in surprise, and Kevin leans over the opening of the hole to look down at Jack equally surprised, and elated.

“Oh my god,” he laughs, falling back on the grass, “We finally did it,” Jack hears him say. And then he groans, “But now I have to move.”

“If I were still God I could read this. Or create new eyes that could,” Jack notes, scrapes the remaining dirt off the coffin with his hands.

“If you were still God we probably wouldn’t even need this spell. And if we did, you could just teleport the tome out without all this bullshit.”

A reneged sector of angels, lead by the angel Inias, had decided to declare war on all remaining prophets. They thought they could use them to find a way to spy on Amara and overthrow her from, well, Goddesshood. This was the grave of a prophet, and inside was a tome they were buried with that held a spell to make prophets invisible to angels and demons. Probably how she lived long enough to die of old age. At first Jack had been sad, thinking this would mean he wouldn’t get to see Kevin anymore. But Sam said he was pretty sure that he could rework the spell so any angels or demons that gave of their blood in the ceremony would be able to still see prophets.

Jack hopes so.

Kevin leans his head over the grave again, wincing. “Wow, now that you’ve uncovered it, those sigils are really bright.”

Jack agrees, though what seemed like blue glowing sigils to them wouldn’t appear at all to normal humans.

Jack opens his mouth to say so but is cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Is that Dean again?” Kevin asks tersely.

Jack checks the caller ID and nods.

“Hand it here,” Kevin says, lunging his arm forward and down.

Jack hands over the phone and Kevin rolls back over with it, out of sight.

“Dean?” Jack hears him say. “Bring burgers and water.” A pause where Kevin must have been about to hang up because he says, “Oh, and get your asses over here.” and Jack hears a beep from the call ending.

“Here you go,” Kevin dangles his arm over into the grave, phone in hand.

-----

They eat inside the impala--Kevin mostly chugs water at first--with the engine idling and cabin lights on. Kevin and Jack are both filthy, but Dean doesn’t mind. ‘Part of bein’ a Hunter’ he’d said. Back in the old times, Cas or Jack would clean everybody up. But seeing as they were both human now, he and Kevin were doomed to be dirt-covered.

“How did it go?” Castiel asks from the front seat, mouth half full of burger, “You didn’t run into any problems?” Castiel had been wearing his regular suit before he’d left but was now wearing a space cats hoodie he’d gotten for himself when he took Jack to Hot Topic. He must have brought it with him in the car.

Kevin stops chugging water to answer, “No ghouls, no cops, no cemetery keepers or grieving loved ones, though that last one would be unlikely seeing as she was buried three hundred years ago. Where’s my burger?”

“Got you four,” Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows.

“I may just be able to eat that many.”

“Yeah and I’ll finish whatever you don’t. That goes for everybody.” Dean continues.

“Didn’t you just get back from a dinner date?” Kevin asks suspiciously, “Actually, if you didn’t, don’t answer, I don’t wanna know.”

“We did just get back from dinner…” Cas starts slowly. “It was, uh...fancy.”

“Too fancy,” Dean grumbles.

“Ah. Small portion sizes.” Kevin nods, but then pauses, “Aren’t you supposed to have fifteen courses or something?”

“Yeah well, we got a call three courses in to deliver some emergency burgers.” Dean shrugs, “Prefer the burgers anyway.”

“Jack, are you wearing an amulet?”

Jack jerks as he realizes he forgot to take it off, “Uh oh,” he says, setting down his burger. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What’s happening?” Dean asks looking around the cabin, panicked.

“Jack left an energy talisman on too long.” Cas sighs, looking sorry.

“Ohoho buddy,” Dean says into the air, smiling but also looking kind of sorry too, and even more so when he meets Jack’s eyes. He pauses. “Yeah bud, uh, that’s gonna be a bitch to take off.” He frowns.

Jack grabs the golden chain--

“Woah, man, what are you doing?” Kevin gasps after having grabbed Jack’s arm and stopping him from taking off the talisman.

“Will it kill me?” Jack asks everybody, suddenly nervous.

“Well, no,” Dean begins, winces, “It’s just gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Then shouldn’t I get it over with?” Jack asks, confused.

“You might pass out,” Castiel warns gently.

“You’re probably gonna wanna go with the passing out,” Kevin says, putting a bracing arm on Jack’s shoulder “It’ll suck less.”

Kevin nods at him and Jack takes that as a sign it’s time to take the talisman off. He lifts the chain up and off, and then something strange happens.

A green light swirls from both Jack and Kevin’s chests and swirls into the amulet.

Both of them double over.

“Woah! You kids alright?” Dean asks, lunging a hand over the backseat to touch Jack’s back, as Castiel quickly spins out of the car and back in at Kevin’s door, holding him up, checking his eyes and tongue, he goes to stick his finger in Kevin’s ear to take his temperature before remembering he can’t do that anymore.

“Kevin? Are you okay? Jack! Jack, are you okay?” Castiel asks urgently.

“Goddammit,” Kevin sighs, “Twice in one night, oh man I’m really gonna die.” then he looks at Castiel before reassuring, “Really, it wasn’t that bad.” Kevin turns to Jack, “How do you feel?”

“...Not that bad,” he answers truthfully.

“Hot damn.” Dean is smiling, leaning back into his seat, “Well now we know that’s a thing!”

“It could potentially save lives,” Castiel agreed. “I’ll have Sam tell the other hunters...though this may just be a situational occurrence between a prophet and a Nephilim. Who knows really.”

“It was still pretty cool,” Dean defends.

Castiel gets back into the car.

“And I’m not denying that. Why do you always jump to conclusions?”

“What are you talking about ‘always?’” Dean grunts back and starts up the car, pulling out of the cemetery parking lot.

Kevin and Jack tune Dean and Cas out.

“That was pretty cool,” Kevin says.

“Yeah,” Jack frowns, looking at his friend. “We’re going to perform the ceremony when we get back.” This may be one of the last times he ever sees or hears him again.

Kevin puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Even if we have to do it by proxy for a little while, I won’t stop being your friend. Okay?”

Jack smiled, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder too, which may have been weird or awkward but seemed like the thing to do.

Kevin smiles at Jack before patting his shoulder and saying “I’m going to pass out now.”

Jack nods and Kevin immediately drops his head back onto his seat and starts snoring.

Jack leans back in his own seat, feeling exhausted as well. Dean and Cas have stopped arguing and put the radio on low, laughing at j=okes here and there as they talk softly.

The running engine and metronome light of street lamps going by, and the familiar classic rock playing all seemed to be in some sort of competition with who could lull Jack to sleep first. The sound of the impala won.

The End

#suptober21 #spn fic #kevin tran and jack kline #suptober day 6

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thefandomsinhalor · 3 years

Text

Title: What the Heart Misses

Author: thefandomsinhalor

Written for: @destielsecretsanta2020

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 5K

Summary:

After learning that the Winchesters and Jack celebrated Christmas with Mrs. Butters, Castiel takes the opportunity to give Dean a Christmas present. Which then prompts Dean to reflect on the nature of their bond.

Merry Christmas to @castielsbeeslippers 😊💜💙 (surprise!!) who wanted a fluffy fic with Cas and bees! I hope you like it!!

Read on AO3

----

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s a gift. For you.”

Dean, sipping on his morning coffee in the bunker’s kitchen, shot a suspicious glance at Castiel when his friend placed a flashy green box with a big red bow on it in front of him.

“Yeah, I got that, Cas. I mean, why are you giving me a present? It’s not Christmas or my birthday.”

“That’s true. But Jack mentioned that you celebrated the holiday the other day with Mrs. Butters. We were discussing the concept of Christmas and that got me thinking. I realized that I had never taken part in the tradition before. So, I thought of changing that even if I missed the celebration the other day.”

“That’s, um, nice.” And then, Dean immediately felt the need to add, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“And yet, I did,” he said calmly.

Unsure what to say, Dean simply nodded at him, and after gently putting down his cup, he began undoing the bow. He had to admit that he was partially curious to see what Castiel, of all people, could have possibly thought of giving him as a Christmas present.

Almost nervous about it, he was surprised, however, by the actual contents of the box.

Ties.

Three of them.

Made of soft woven silk.

And all three of them had bees depicted on them.

A golden yellow one, with honeycomb print at the bottom and a few bees near the top.

Another one that was a charcoal color, with tiny bees serving as pattern all over the tie. So small, in fact, they barely seemed like bees, which rendered the tie surprisingly classic-looking.

And one blue tie, with a few doodled bees on it.

Which was instantly Dean’s favourite.

Smiling at the corner of his mouth, after eyeing Castiel briefly, he picked up that last one to examine it closer.

It was far from being something he would have selected for himself. After all, flannel and jeans were more his style over suits to begin with, even less so the overly fashioned ties.

And yet, the fact that Castiel had apparently taken the time to choose these specifically for him could not do anything short of bringing a smile to his lips.

“Bees, huh?”

“I tried to find ones with patterns of pies, but I didn’t succeed. I thought—you don’t have to wear them if you feel they will clash with your suit. I simply wished to offer you an alternative.”

Keeping his eyes on the tie, Dean said, “I like them, Cas. Thank you. Can’t wait to try it on.”

And Dean had meant every word. Just over a week later, when he and Sam were sharing a quick lunch with Donna, while reviewing a possible case involving a wraith down in Rochester, Dean had made sure to tuck a napkin into his collar to not soil his blue tie with bees. Once he was done with his bacon cheese burger, which had been delicious, and wanted to study more properly the files Donna had brought them, he pushed his plate aside and freed himself of his napkin.

“Oooh, that’s a neat tie you got there, Dean,” said Donna.

Mildly grinning, he said, “I know.” He lifted his eyes from the document and added, “Cas gave it to me. I know it’s not super ‘professional-looking’ but I thought, what the hell? Why not?”

“He also kind of really likes it,” said Sam, harboring his most serious expression that Dean and everyone else knew was fake. “Like, really likes it. He wore it every day this week.”

Smirking, Donna nodded. “Gotcha.”

Suddenly feeling somewhat exposed, Dean cleared his throat. “I—so? What if I did?” Then, as he fixed his tie, he added, more to himself than to the others, “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, Dean. I wasn’t suggesting there was. Quite the opposite, actually.” Seemingly about to elaborate further on his viewpoint, Sam then turned quiet and stabbed his salad with his fork, adopting a casual attitude.

Dean frowned at his brother. His patent change of behaviour hadn’t fooled him. It was clear that Sam had more to say on the subject and Dean was now curious to hear his opinion. He let the matter go, however, when Donna received a phone call informing her that another body had been found, thus prompting the trio to abruptly end their lunch and return to work.

He came back to the topic by the evening though. With the case closed and behind them, they warmly said goodbye to Donna, and soon after they hit the road to return to the bunker, Dean asked, “Why were you giving me crap about liking my tie?”

“I wasn’t. I’m honestly glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Good. Because I am. It was really thoughtful of him to do this.”

“No argument there. I don’t want to say I’m surprised, but…yeah, I really like the book he gave me too.”

“What?” Dean glanced at him, while also carefully keeping an eye on the road. “What do you mean? What book?”

“For Christmas,” said Sam as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He—he gave you a present too?”

“Yeah. And Jack.” Sam observed him for a moment and then, assessing Dean’s mild confusion, he asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His eyes back on the road, he fell silent for as long as he could, until he blurted out, “What kind of book? And what did he give Jack?”

“Um, he—he gave Jack a Star Wars movie collection. He’s been going through them again all week long in—”

“—in the Dean Cave,” said Dean, now understanding where the kid disappeared to in the evenings. “Good thing Mrs. B. fixed the TV.”

“Yeah.”

“And what was yours?”

“I got a book about the most notorious serial killers of the past decade.”

Dean blinked. “Wow. That’s—yeah. That’s…tell the truth: had you read it before?”

“No. It just came out a few weeks ago. And it’s really cool. I’m on the chapter about H. H. Holmes, and I gotta say, considering our insight about the guy, it’s riveting.”

Amused at his brother’s weird interest, Dean shook his head. And while he had other questions regarding Sam’s opinion on Castiel’s presents, his train of thought took a turn when something else occurred to Dean.

Particularly once he compared the gifts.

“You okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Just—it’s been a long day and I can’t wait to be home, that’s all.”

On the following morning, after a few not-so-restful hours of sleep, Dean got frustrated from all the tossing and turning, so he left his warm bed and hurried to the kitchen in order to get the day started.

The room was spotless, and just as he had predicted, he found Mrs. Butters already waiting for him.

“Good Morning, Dean.”

Wishing her the same, he took a seat at the table. She quickly put down a plate with a western omelette and fruits on the side, as well as a cup of freshly brewed coffee for him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. But despite being famished, Dean froze, utensils in hands, and simply stared at his plate.

“Not hungry this morning?”

“No. I am. I—I don’t know.” He put down his fork and knife and let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, dear. Would you like a grilled cheese instead?” she asked and seemingly manifested another plate out of thin air.

“For breakfast?” he said, trying to contain his glee (and failing at it).

“Why not?” She delicately dropped the plate in front of him. “You look like you could do with some cheering up.”

“Is this your way of telling me I look like crap?” he asked her, already chewing on his sandwich, which prompted Mrs. Butters to squint at him about manners.

“I feel like a few additional hours of sleep would have done you good, yes.” She returned to the stove where a few pots and pans were sizzling and boiling. But she kept her stare on him. “Anything the matter?”

That was the question.

He didn’t want to admit it, but his conversation with Sam had bothered him. While he was delighted at the thought that Castiel had been generous with Sam and Jack as well, something that didn’t surprise Dean that profoundly, this revelation had forced him to re-evaluate his own present.

And the more he thought about it, the more it left him with a pit in his stomach.

What Castiel had chosen for Sam and Jack had been perfect for them. If he was honest, Dean wasn’t sure he could have done better himself. Jack had been geeking out about Star Wars since basically his fourth day on this earth, and Sam had his odd fascination about serial killers. Perfect.

And then, there was his present.

Ties with bees on it.

Not exactly something that “screamed” Dean.

And yet, for some reason, Dean had genuinely enjoyed the ties. He had been touched by his kindness and attention. And while ties and bees weren’t things Dean held a deep fascination for, he knew that it was, in some ways, an interest to Castiel.

And that had meant something to him.

Until, that was, he learned of Sam and Jack’s presents.

Now, he felt like his gift was impersonal. Like Castiel hadn’t know what to give him, so he had picked the first thing he had thought of.

And that, above all, bothered Dean. It saddened him, even. Not that he believed himself superior to the others, but Dean, for quite some time now, had been under the impression that he might be something else to Castiel.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“Oh, um, no—nothing.” He took another bite of his tasty grilled cheese.

Mrs. Butters left her pots once more and joined him at the table, sensing his hesitation.

“Now, now. Something is troubling you. What is it?”

Shifting on his seat, he said, “Not important.”

Unsatisfied with his lie, she took his plate and the second half of the grilled cheese with it.

“Hey!”

“You will get it back as soon as you answer truthfully.” She gave him a menacing look.

Annoyed, Dean momentarily considered abandoning the rest of his grilled cheese to save himself from an awkward conversation.

But his stomach growled and he knew it was a lost battle.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you. Can I have my sandwich back though? Please?”

She held her severe stare for a little longer, assessing his words, and once she judged his tone to be honest, she nodded and returned his plate to him.

“So, I have this—you know who Cas is, right?”

She nodded. “Your friendly angel. Jack’s third adoptive father.”

“Um. Yeah. I—I—him.”

“What about him?”

“Well, he—after you made Christmas happen, Cas gave me—us—Christmas presents.”

“How kind!” she said joyfully.

“Yeah.”

He swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t?”

“It’s just…I’m—I loved the gift—I’m just confused as to why he gave me this.”

“May I ask what it was?”

Dean told her.

Mrs. Butters studied him for a moment and then said, “Were you hoping for something else? Something specific in mind?”

She had said it in such a playful tone it had almost made Dean feel uncomfortable.

Transparent, one might have said.

“I wasn’t expecting anything at all. So, no. No—nothing specific.”

“But you are disappointed.”

“I—I don’t know. No. I’m just…I was happy about it because I—I thought it might have meant—but now I feel like I may have misunderstood.”

“Hmm.”

Desperate to avoid her stare, Dean returned to his grilled cheese, feeling embarrassed by the nature of the discussion.

It was too early in the morning for this.

He remained with his eyes glued to the table for a short time. Once his plate was empty, however, he had no choice but to glance at her.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she finally asked him.

“What?”

“You say that your friend gave you a present, which you really loved, but that you are now questioning the original intent of the gift. Correct?”

He nodded, determined to not lower his eyes.

“It seems to me that you need to shed light on the situation. So, how do you suggest to go about it?”

This question brought Dean a worrisome thought. Exciting, in parts, but worrisome.

“I—I was thinking that, um, maybe—” he started saying, but the rest of his sentence died in his throat.

“Maybe what?”

“I—I was just thinking that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should get him something.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked to his left, even though nothing remotely interesting was happening there. “Maybe that will, um, help clarify a few things that I—yeah.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

Dean let out a short laugh, feeling embarrassed more than ever, as he was deeply praying that Sam—or anyone else, really—would never hear of this conversation.

“What kind of gift were you thinking of?” she asked, utterly invested.

“I—I have no idea.”

“Do you intend to give him something practical? Something he may need?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Not really. It’s not like he really needs anything…he’s an angel.”

“I see. Then, something he enjoys, perhaps? Does he have any type of hobbies?”

“Not…that I know of. He likes bees. And emoticons. And…yeah.”

After a short pause, she then said, “If Castiel doesn’t need anything material, perhaps you can offer him something else, then?”

Swallowing, Dean said, “Like what?”

“I don’t know, dear. He’s your friend. You should know what would please him. As they say, it’s the thought that counts. You are worried that you might have misunderstood something. Perhaps you didn’t. So, think back on the present he gave you and how you felt about it. A nice gesture to symbolize how you feel? That might be a step towards the right direction.”

Following Mrs. Butters’ advice, Dean took time to reflect greatly on the matter at hand. Gifts. Feelings. Meanings.

Which made him even more confused than before.

The fact was that he had previously given Castiel presents. He had even done so on a few occasions, actually. Just never on Christmas. He had done so randomly and simply because he had felt like it at that moment.

Like when he had gotten him a cowboy hat in Dodge City.

And the mixtape.

Of course.

Which Dean didn’t want to dwell on too much. Even if he had meant it. And had certainly not regretted it.

But now, in this context, remembering what Mrs. Butters had told him about his intentions, Dean found the task rather pressuring.

The main problem was that most of everything that came to Dean’s mind that could qualify as “a nice gesture” were things that he would have no problem doing under any circumstances. Which, in his opinion, lessened the effect.

Well, almost everything.

There were certain ideas that could potentially work. They would definitely make some things clear. Be that as it may, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that was the way he wanted to go at this. Mainly because he wasn’t convinced that Castiel would necessarily find it charming—for the lack of a better word—nor did Dean, for the time being, want to get ahead of himself.

One problem at a time.

From the moment the darn ideas had set into his head, however, it had been difficult to get rid of them, to the point that it had rendered him distressed.

Which was why he decided, quite beside himself, to ask Sam for help.

“So, I was thinking,” said Dean, attempting to sound casual, but inevitably failing at it, “since Cas’s been through the trouble of getting us something, maybe we should do the same.”

Sam, not lifting his eyes from his book, nodded. “Cool.”

In the hope that his brother would share a little more insight on the matter, Dean remained still, waiting for Sam to start his usual brainstorming session.

But nothing.

He simply turned the page of his book. He continued reading, sitting across the table. He didn’t say anything.

Annoyed, Dean said, “Any ideas?”

“What do you want to get him?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m talking to you right now.”

Finally looking at him, Sam said, sighing, “Dean, I’m sure Cas will be happy no matter what you give him.” When it was evident to Sam that Dean hadn’t liked his answer, he added, “You know that you don’t have to get him anything, right? It’s not an obligation.”

Shifting in his seat, Dean said, “Maybe…. maybe I want to. Maybe I—I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

Diverting his eyes, as he knew full well Sam was most undoubtedly staring at him, he waited for him to comment, perhaps tease him, even. But to Dean’s surprise—and relief—Sam did no such thing.

“Dean, if you’re getting at what I think you are—and about freaking time, by the way—I’ll help you. But I really think it ought to come from you. You know?”

Dean nodded shyly, agreeing with Sam’s point.

They remained silent for a brief moment, until Sam, taking pity on his brother, shut his book and said, “How about we go into town? You can check out a few of the local shops on Main Street? I was gonna go later this afternoon for a bit of groceries anyway. Browsing might give you some ideas.”

Dean let out a massive sigh of relief and thanked his brother.

Even though he had difficulty believing that he could find something worthy of an angel of the Lord at a local gift shop.

And his assumption turned out to be correct.

Clothing stores. Bakeries. Electronics. And so on.

None were offering him good ideas.

Some options? Yes.

But again, not the best ones. Not what Dean wanted to convey, at the very least.

Getting slightly discouraged, he was about to leave a quirky coffee shop he had stopped by for refueling, when something on display caught his eye next to the cash register.

A tiny object. An ornament. It wasn’t jewelry. Not exactly. Nor was it flashy. It was simple and effective.

And, more importantly to Dean, it held a sort of statement. Perhaps in an old kind of way. And yet, Dean liked it.

It was perfect.

And then, he spotted another item, which he believed could be complimentary. And Dean knew this was what he needed to get Castiel.

The only aspect left to figure out was when to execute the gift exchange.

Of course, Dean could have simply waited until the next time they saw each other or simply called him on his way back to the bunker.

And while that was what he ultimately did, Dean was then blessed with another idea that could make the exchange far better and less random.

But for that he needed the help of Sam, Jack and Mrs. Butters.

And so, a few hours later, after the others had agreed with his plan, he dressed up—wearing his tie, of course—called Castiel and invited him to the bunker.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Nothing’s wrong. We just—come by. We have something planned.”

Puzzled at the mystery, but nonetheless inclined to oblige, Castiel joined them a few hours following Dean’s call.

And witnessing Castiel’s surprised expression when he entered the bunker had been worth the effort and the wait of the first part of his plan, Dean thought.

“What’s all this?” said Castiel, pointing at the garlands on the ramp. And the Christmas lights around the ceiling. And the large tree in the middle of the war room.

“Mrs. Butters was about to move on to the next holiday, but, um, I—I was hoping we could get a redo before that. So you could enjoy it with us this time around, I mean.”

“That’s…very considerate and inclusive, as it was unnecessary,” said Castiel, nearly apologetic.

“Dean’s right,” said Sam. “Although we hadn’t planned to celebrate, it was kind of a bummer that you weren’t there when we did.”

“And then you were nice enough to offer us presents, which you really didn’t have to. So, I—we thought we could have another go at it. With you this time.”

Castiel, now at the bottom of the stairs, was staring at Dean with a warm expression. His eyes fell on his tie, and he smiled shyly.

“It won’t be an exact replica of how we celebrated the first time around—”

“Mainly because we didn’t want to seem either ungrateful and too capricious to Mrs. Butters,” said Sam, cutting his brother off.

“I would have done it properly, Samuel!” she exclaimed, sounding offended.

“Though she keeps insisting she would have done it,” said Dean under his breath.

“But close enough,” said Sam firmly over his brother’s voice, wanting to put the matter to rest.

After taking another look around the room, with a genuine grin on his face, Castiel thanked them. “That’s very kind of the both of you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Sam. And as he offered him an eggnog, he added, “Just also want to let you know that, while this,” to which he gestured to the room, “was also Jack’s and Mrs. Butter’s doing, as much as mine and Dean’s, it was primarily Dean’s idea though.” And then he added in the most awkward way, “I’m gonna go check on Jack now.”

And made himself scarce.

Mrs. Butters along with him.

Thus, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

“Is what Sam said true?” asked Castiel, taking a step towards him. “You did this?”

“It was about time we had Christmas together, no?”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel stared at him for a long time. “Again, thank you.”

“No problem. But this is just the beginning.”

“What else have you planned?”

Smiling mischievously, Dean said, “You’ll see.”

The next few hours were filled with jubilation. Mrs. Butters had them carolling, they nearly fell into a sugar coma, and participated to a gingerbread house contest, dutifully orchestrated by Mrs. Butters.

Everyone had a great time. Beaming at one another, they shared a sumptuous meal, which had been prepared by the Winchesters and Jack—not just Mrs. Butters.

They also played games afterwards. Mrs. Butters beat all of them at cards. Sam dominated in Trivia. And while Castiel and Jack failed to understand the concept of Mad Libs, they had both somehow managed to create the most hilarious and nonsensical stories Sam and Dean had ever had the pleasure to hear.

Enjoying himself as much as he was though, Dean felt jitters multiplying within his chest as the evening progressed. He caught himself staring at Castiel more times than would be deemed acceptable, and when they exchanged looks, Dean wasn’t able to do anything but beam at him.

He eagerly awaited an opportunity to give Castiel his present in private.

He almost had done so when everyone had busied themselves by bringing back the dishes to the kitchen. Pulling Castiel aside for a brief moment would have been plausible.

But not ideal.

He seriously contemplated the option to do the same when Sam went to help Jack find some additional board games that they had stashed in one of the storage rooms, but he doubted that they would be gone for very long. And sure enough, Dean had barely had the time to pour himself and everyone else another eggnog before Jack burst into the room, carrying an impressive number of boxes.

But at last, Dean got his chance during Monopoly. Despite everyone’s investment into the game, the general vibe surrounding them was of a mellow mood. So, after retiring from the game because of bankruptcy, and noting that Castiel was soon going to suffer the same fate, Dean momentarily left the room to fetch his present.

He had carefully left it on his bedroom’s desk.

Biting his bottom lip, he stared at the small red box. He pondered one last time on his choice.

It was a common enough item, like the ties.

And like the ties, to him, it meant something.

And more than anything, Dean couldn’t wait to see what Castiel would think of it.

The anxiety rose within him.

He was satisfied with his choice.

And there was now only one thing left to do.

Dean needed not venture too far though. Just as he exited his room, Castiel turned the corner in the hallway.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Sam and Jack got the better of you too, huh?”

Castiel came to a halt once he had reached him.

“It appears that I lack financial skills.”

“It happens to the best of us,” said Dean, smirking. But after noticing a hint of uneasiness in Castiel’s eyes, he said calmly, “Everything okay?”

“More than okay. I really enjoyed the evening, thank you.”

“Awesome. I’m glad, Cas.”

“I simply wanted to let you know before you decided to turn in.”

“Oh,” said Dean, glancing behind him. “I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.” And then at Castiel’s mild perplexity, he added, “I—I actually came to get this.”

He retrieved the little box from his pocket where he had stashed it moments ago, took a look in the hallway, wanting to be sure no one else was seemingly listening, and presented it to Castiel.

“It’s for you. Merry Christmas.”

As his eyes fell on the present, Castiel seemed genuinely surprised by this.

“You didn’t have to do this. The evening was wonderful, I told you.”

“You got me something. I wanted to do the same.” He slightly lifted his hand to incite Castiel to take possession of it.

Which he did, right after returning a warm smile at Dean.

He observed the box for a second, almost as though he was trying to guess what was in it, and began pulling on the thin string.

“Oh, just—before you open it, can I ask a question?”

Castiel stopped and nodded.

“Why did you give me ties? I love them,” he added promptly. “I just—why?”

“Why do you ask?”

After a short hesitation, but determined to be honest, he said, “I heard about what you gave Sam and Jack. I was just curious how you came to decide on that.”

Castiel nodded once more, now understanding Dean’s question.

“Well, the truth is that it was very difficult to find something for you.”

“How so?”

“There are many things that you enjoy, such as alcohol, food, car related items, pornographic magazines,” to which Dean lowered his eyes for a moment, “firearms and so on, that I could have given you. But I deduced that it was…too practical? Or—most definitions of ‘gift’ in dictionaries suggest that it is simply the act of giving something willingly and freely. Almost none speak of the emotional intent of said act, which I thought was unfortunate. I was under the impression that the intention behind a gift mattered more than the gift itself or the very action of giving.”

Shifting on his feet, Dean said in an even voice, as much as he could master, “So, why the ties?”

“I—I was trying to mirror the cassette tape you had given me.”

This was not the answer Dean had expected.

But he liked the way it was going.

“How do you figure that?”

“Rock music is something you adore. You had wanted me to have something you enjoyed. I saw it as something you wanted to share. And it always reminded me of you when I listened to it.”

And with that, Dean knew he had picked the right present.

“Was I wrong in my assessment?” asked Castiel.

And Dean shook his head, feeling his chest swell with fuzzy feelings.

“I know it isn’t the same,” continued Castiel, “but it was more or less what I was trying to convey with the ties. I cannot always be hunting with you as much as I’d wish, but I figured, that way, the ties might remind you of me.”

Dean swallowed hard before saying, “I don’t need the ties for that. You know that, right?”

After exchanging a deep, lingering look, Castiel gave him a shy nod. Feeling the awkwardness rising between them, despite being appeased by Dean’s words, he then finally took it upon himself to open his present.

He momentarily froze, staring at it after the reveal.

It was two small, delicate pins.

A tiny golden bee.

And a colorful piece of pie.

Castiel stared at Dean, stunned, which rendered the task of holding down his grin very difficult for Dean.

“So, the idea was that this one was intended for you, and I—may I?” asked Dean, as he stepped closer.

Castiel nodded.

Taking hold of the golden bee pin, he said, “I didn’t exactly mean to go all fifties with this, but I—I don’t know, I liked it and thought you might as well.”

“I do like it,” he said earnestly.

Glad, Dean took a deep breath and with a short nod at his upper chest, he silently asked Castiel if he wished to wear it now.

Castiel stepped forward.

As Dean delicately pinned the golden bee on Castiel’s jacket collar lapel, he heard him say softly, “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“When you say ‘going all fifties,’ are you referring to courtsh—what did you mean?”

Done with his task, Dean gently pressed on the pin to make sure it was safely attached, and stepped back. And met Castiel’s eyes.

“It’s as you thought. That’s why I got another one. That one is for me.”

He processed what Dean had just told him, and as he was reaching out for him, Castiel began saying, “Dean, I—I want—”

Unfortunately, something interrupted him. A loud horn was heard, making them both jump. Unfamiliar with the new alarm, Castiel questioningly frowned at Dean. Amused at his confusion, Dean explained, as loudly as he could over the horn, “Mrs. B.” and “Monster radar.”

Which only brought Castiel additional questions.

The moment the racket was over, before Dean even had time to utter another word, Sam, coming from down the hall, called for them with a sense of urgency in his voice. Castiel turned himself in that direction, while remaining at Dean’s side.

With their shoulders touching.

When Sam finally appeared before them, he said, “So—sorry, I’m sorry. I hope I—I didn’t mean to barge in—”

“It’s fine,” Dean told him. “What’s up?”

“Rugarus. Almost half a dozen of them in Concordia according to the radar.”

“Awesome.”

“I know it’s late and that you—but I don’t think we can wait any longer. And I—I’d go with Jack, but he has to stay hidden because—”

But Dean cut him off. “It’s okay, Sam. No worries. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Sam gave them both an apologetic nod and turned on his heels, eager to leave them be.

Once he was sure that his brother was out of earshot, Dean refocused his attention to Castiel. “What were you going to say?”

“It can wait. Duty calls.” His tone hadn’t been grim. Or even with a hint of disappointment. Simply as a matter of fact.

But he stayed put, facing Dean, with no effort to leave.

“You’re right,” said Dean. “It can wait. There’s just one—a couple of things—I’d like to cover before we join Sam though.” He lowered his eyes to the box Castiel was still holding.

Letting out a faint laugh, Castiel said, “I’ll put it on you right now if that’s what you want. But considering where we are heading, shouldn’t we wait? I don’t want you to lose it. Maybe I should even keep this one safe.”

He lifted his hand to reach for his pin, but Dean stopped him. Holding his hand, he said, “Don’t worry about that, it will stay on.”

“Aren’t these fragile? I told you, I don’t want to break it or lose it.”

“You won’t. I took care of that. I—Mrs. B. helped me. She—just trust me, the only way this is getting off your coat is because you, and no one else, wills it.”

There was a short pause. “Then you are right. It will stay on.”

He lifted the box and installed Dean’s pin in turn.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

“Dean, will you let me know when you will celebrate the next holiday? I’d like to be there.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, he said, “No way we are doing this without you. I’m looking forward to experiencing the rest of them with you.” And knowing that Sam was waiting, he said, “Just one last little thing before we end this one though.”

“What’s that?”

And Dean, slowly leaning in, breathed, “A kiss.”

And he was granted his wish.

THE END

#destiel fic #destiel fluff #SPN xmas #destiel secret santa #my fanfic #Dean Winchester #castiel #castiel and his bees #Dean Winchester loves Castiel

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gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

You are my home💚💙

Happy Valentine’s Destiel Wedding Day everyone!

Part 2 of my Destiel wedding series.

Click here for the masterpost.

Thanks @bonchickabelle for your support

~2,8k words

“Are you nervous?” Sam teased Dean, who stood in front of the mirror, tugging his tie straight. He thought about it for a moment “Excited? Sure, can’t wait to see Cas again after you forced us to spend last night apart for some stupid tradition. Nervous? No. It’s Cas I’m marrying.” Sam smiled knowingly, already half out the door. “I’m very happy for you two!” Alone again, Dean’s eyes drifted back to the mirror and he placed his hand on his shoulder, right over Cas’ handprint. He meant what he had said to Sam. It had been the first night they had been apart since he got Cas back and he barely slept. He had just felt wrong without hearing Cas’ gentle breaths, without being able to wrap his arms around the former angel and without feeling the weight of Cas’ head on his chest. But was he nervous? Not at all. He was almost surprised at how calm he felt. He’d never been this sure about anything in his life. After today, he would never have to spend another night without Cas.

Everything was perfect. Everyone they knew had insisted on helping with the wedding in one way or another. Sam wanted to officiate them, he got his license as soon as he heard the happy news. Eileen had taken the grooms separately to shop for wedding suits, Jack had promised them a warm, sunny day and handmade the invitations with Claire. Jody and Donna had baked their wedding cake, Ellen and Jo contributed a dozen homemade pies, Bobby took care of the bar and the catering. Garth and Bess promised to capture the whole day on their cameras. Gabe offered to be their DJ and Ash took care of all the technical stuff. Rowena had promised them truly magical fireworks at night, while Crowley and Benny were in charge of the security, although that shouldn’t be necessary ever since Jack became god.

Charlie and Dorothy had not only offered their vast, beautiful property as their wedding venue, they had also taken care of the decorations. The ceremony was set to take place on the Southern side of their house. An aisle led through rows of white chairs up to a little lake in front of which they had placed a rectangular wooden arc, decorated with greenery and big white flowers that stood out brightly against the blue water in the background. The Western side of the house was already equipped with a big dance floor around which tables, a big buffet and a bar had been set up. To top it all off, Charly and Dorothy had hanged fairy lights in every single tree on their property, which would create a magical atmosphere at night.

Lost in thoughts, Dean adjusted the flower on his lapel and smiled at the mirror. He never thought that he – Dean fucking Winchester – would ever get married. And yet here he was. His phone buzzed and his smile became even wider as he saw who texted him.

[Cas 10:34] Dean?

[Dean 10:35] What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now😉

[Cas 10:37] No, my feet are perfectly fine, why would they be cold?

Dean rolled his eyes, amused at his fiancé’s confusion.

[Dean 10:37] Not literally, that’s an expression for someone who has second thoughts on their wedding day. What’s going on?

[Cas 10:38] Oh. I see. I’m nervous that I might act weird because I don’t know all wedding customs. So I wanted to ask if you could maybe help me out when I’m about to make a fool out of myself.

[Dean 10:39] Sure thing, sunshine, but don’t worry about acting right, it’s your wedding day, all you have to do is enjoy it. And everybody here knows you’re a little weird😉

Without a knock, Charlie barged in. “What’s up bitch, you ready? Cause your fiancé is and he’s smokin’ hot.” She winked as she noticed Dean’s blushing cheeks. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where’s Bobby?” “Already waiting downstairs for you. I have to go, see you in a few”. As quick as she had come, she disappeared again. Dean took another glance at the mirror to make sure everything was perfect before he left the room.

Downstairs Bobby and Ellen were laughing over a glass of scotch. When Bobby noticed Dean, he smiled and reached up to adjust his baseball cap, scoffing when he realized that he didn’t wear one today. “Lookin’ good” he grumbled. Ellen gave Bobby a quick peck on his cheek and winked at Dean as she went to take a seat. “I’m glad ya two idjits finally got the sticks out of your asses. Took ya long enough.” Dean chuckled nervously, his cheeks turning red again. “Thanks Bobby. Truth is I still don’t know how I got this lucky.” “Well, ya really deserve this, ya know? You’re a good man. He’s lucky to be with you. And I like him. Never seen you this happy.” After a pause he added “I’m very proud of you son.” Fumbling with the empty glass Ellen had left behind on the table in front of him, Dean replied “Bobby... Thank you. You’ve always been a father for me, unlike John, who... Anyways, thank you. For everything.” Dean swallowed, unable to put his love and gratitude for this man into words, but as he looked up at Bobby’s face, he caught him wiping over suspiciously wet eyes. “Idjit” he grunted, pulling Dean into a bone crushing hug. He nodded at the clock. “Ya ready? We gotta go.” “Ready” Dean replied, and he meant it. He was more than ready for this.

Or maybe he wasn’t. He was more than ready to marry Cas, but he wasn’t prepared for the sight of all his loved ones in one place, alive – thanks to Jack – gathered to celebrate with him. He always thought the only occasion where they’d all come together would be for his funeral, and he didn’t even expect that since most of them had been dead until a few months ago. Grateful and touched to see how many people where there because they loved him and Cas, Dean fought back some tears. While Garth’s kids waddled down the aisle, scattering white rose petals, Bobby squeezed Dean’s arm, as if he could sense all those thoughts whirling in his head. Dean nodded, linked their arms and let Bobby lead him down the aisle where Sammy already waited with a big grin and an even bigger stack of notes for his speech.

Back in the house, Charly gave Cas an encouraging smile and handed him a gorgeous bouquet of white and yellow flowers. “Thank you for leading me down the aisle, I was made aware that that would usually be the responsibility of one’s father...” “There’s nothing usual about this wedding..” Charly teased him. “Besides, you’ve been my bestie ever since we first met, of course I’m gonna walk you down the aisle!” She linked their arms. “Ready?” Cas nodded. “Ready...” Leaning in, he added with a proud smirk “...bestie”. The doors swung open and they stepped outside.

All heads turned around to see Cas, but he didn’t even notice. He was completely captivated by the sight of his fiancé, who let out a little gasp before breaking into a wide smile. His eyes made those cute crinkles that Cas loved so much and as he came closer, he could see a tear roll over Dean’s check. Usually, although Dean had become way more relaxed over the last months, Cas could always sense a lingering alertness in him. But now... he seemed completely at peace. Cas quickly blinked away some tears. He didn’t want anything to cloud his vision, he needed to preserve this image in his mind. His navy-blue suit combined with a simple black tie and a white flower on the lapel suited Dean incredibly well. He was beautiful and Cas’ heart skipped a beat at the thought that it was him who caused the pure adoration and happiness on Dean’s face.

Charlie led Cas towards him with excruciatingly slow steps. Dean could barely restrain himself from running towards them. Cas was indeed smoking hot in his black suit, the baby blue tie perfectly matching the color of his big, loving eyes. Their eyes locked and Cas smiled at him with his adorable alien head tilt. Dean took a deep breath in, smiling at his fiancé, whose eyes glistened suspiciously. Cas seemed completely awestruck, and Dean felt a little lightheaded like he always did when Cas looked at him like that... like he meant the world to him.

Charly placed Cas’ hand in Dean’s. “Hey handsome! Missed me last night?” Dean whispered with a wink. “Hello Dean. I missed you very much indeed”. Murmuring “Me too”, Dean softly leaned his forehead against Cas’. The grooms stood there for a moment with closed eyes and fond smiles on their faces, the longing for each other almost unbearable. Cas finally pulled away and stated softly: “You are incredibly beautiful”. He turned towards Sam. Dean blushed at the seriousness in Cas’ voice and slowly turned to face his brother as well, not without glancing at Cas’ concentrated face once more and shooting him a loving smile from the side. While Sam held his unsurprisingly deep and thoughtful speech, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s, who squeezed it lightly in response.

When it was time to say their vows, Dean took Cas’ hands in his and started shakily: “So, uhm, I’d like to start if that’s okay. Cas – you’re my best friend. And you’re the love of my life. I never thought I’d ever say something like that, I didn’t exactly think love was in the cards for me. I never let anyone close. But you...” His furrowed brows softened, and he broke into a fond smile, adopting Cas’ little head tilt. “You immediately got to me – well, right after I stabbed you... Sorry for that, buddy.” He winked and Cas chuckled softly. Dean continued, his voice overflowing with love: “I love your weird, quirky personality. I love that you’re such an openhearted, adorable little dude and at the same time you’re brave, strong and one hell of a badass. You never stop surprising me. You have the most loving, pure and beautiful soul.” Dean’s voice started to crack. “You know me better than anyone, heck, you probably even know me better than I know myself. You looked into my soul and you love me for exactly who I am, which is the best gift you could have ever given me.” Firmly holding Cas’ gaze, he added seriously: “I promise to always love and support you unconditionally, in our human life together and beyond. I’ve been yours ever since you first laid a hand on me. And I swear I will be yours for all of eternity. I love you Cas, so damn much.”

Cas looked at him completely lovestruck, tears glistening in his eyes. In a low, gravelly voice he declared: “I never truly belonged anywhere. I never... functioned the way I was supposed to. And you made me realize that that’s okay. That freedom and free will were more preferable than being a brainwashed soldier of heaven. You gave me your friendship, you made me part of your family. You taught me to love.” He cupped Dean’s face, gently brushing his thumb over Dean’s freckled cheeks. Squinting his eyes in adoration at the miracle before him, he added: “You are the most perfect, selfless and loving human being I have ever known.” Tears started rolling down Dean’s cheeks, he still had a hard time accepting that someone – especially Cas – would think so highly of him. Receiving this praise in front of such a big audience made him blush. “Dean, you are my home. I love you. Forever.” He pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead and wiped away his tears. Dean almost drowned in his loving eyes, completely overwhelmed with affection.

Claire and Jack came up to give them their rings. Claire handed Cas a ring and whispered: “Congrats Ca... Dad”. Cas froze up for a second, tilting his head, squinting his eyes, trying to understand if she really just meant that or if it had just slipped out on accident. When she gave him a shy confirming smile, he pulled her into a strong hug. Jack handed Dean a ring with a “Hello Dad” and a short hug, before tugging on Claire’s hand to pull her back to their seats. The almost married couple shared a confused look after what just happened, Dean opening his mouth to ask “Did they just call us..?” “I believe they did”, Cas replied happily.

Sam moved on with the ceremony and let them repeat some more promises to each other before posing the final question: “Do you, Castiel, take Dean Winchester as your lawfully wedded husband?” Cas answered earnestly “I do.” Sam turned to Dean to repeat his question: “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel as your lawfully wedded husband?” Dean grinned widely, eyes crinkling around the edges: “Hell yeah, I do!” Sam asked them to exchange their rings to seal their bond and Cas took Dean’s hand gently in his. He slipped the ring on slowly, looking deeply into Dean’s beaming green eyes. Dean then slipped a ring onto Cas’ finger, his fingertips lingering longer than necessary. Sam finally pronounced them “...husband and husband. You may now kiss your groom!” Under the roaring cheers of their loved ones, Dean cupped Cas’ face while his husband pulled him close, arms wrapped around his waist. Their lips found each other easily, all of their adoration blooming into a chaste, soft kiss. Cas spontaneously bent Dean backwards, who gasped into his mouth in surprise, before letting himself fall into the strong embrace. Their kiss deepened, both too far gone to hear the excited cheers and whistles around them. It took them a while to gather the strength to break apart, foreheads resting against each other for one more moment before turning to the cheering crowd. Dean linked their hands and raised them up, as Sam exclaimed loudly: “I present to you Mr. and Mr. Winchester!”

The party afterwards was one for the books. Everyone had a blast and surprisingly enough, everyone got along perfectly, which wasn’t exactly a given on a party were hunters and supernatural beings came together. Donna’s and Jody’s wedding cake was mind-blowingly delicious. It was a white cake with three tiers and a figurine of the happy couple on top, wearing their trademark flannel and trenchcoat. When they cut the cake open, it revealed a colorful surprise. The top tier was colored like the bisexual pride flag. The second tier was chocolate-brown and the bottom tier looked like a rainbow flag. Dean insisted on feeding Cas with some cake and “accidentally” smeared frosting on Cas’ face. After he had kissed it away shamelessly, which earned them loud cheers and whistles from their guests, Dean pulled his husband onto the dance floor for their first dance.

They both didn’t exactly know how to dance, but it didn’t matter. They were just happy to feel the comforting warmth of their bodies against each other and melted into a tight embrace. As they were swaying gently, eyes closed and faces buried in each other’s necks, they didn’t realize that the first song had long blended into the next one. After a couple of songs, Dean opened his eyes for a moment, watching all the people he loved enjoy themselves. Jody and Donna slow-danced next to them and Eileen tried to teach Sam how to dance, hoping not to get her toes crushed. The brothers exchanged a big smile that said: “We’re so damn lucky”. Rowena stood at the DJ-table with Gabe, brushing a hand over his arm and whispering something in his ear. Crowley and Benny seemed to hit it off at the bar and Claire and Jack tried to teach Sonny some “tictoc-dance”, whatever that was, while Miracle excitedly jumped around their feet. Dean closed his eyes again and sank even deeper into the feeling of Cas’ arms wrapped around him.

The party carried on deep into the night, roaring rock classics long having replaced the quiet couple-dance music, everyone partying on the dance floor or sharing stories and laughs at the bar. As the newlyweds sat down to chat with Sam and Eileen over some drinks, Cas looked at his husband lovingly. He was overjoyed to see Dean beaming happily from being among all the people he loved, no danger in sight. As Dean caught Cas starring, he gave him a gentle peck and got up. He linked their hands as they strolled towards the lake, the party sounds fading into low background noises. They leaned up against each other, the reflections of stars and fairy lights glistening on the water as they held each other close in the cold night air. Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas’ hair and pressed a gentle kiss on his head. Cas turned to see Dean’s glowing eyes and pulled him into a long, achingly tender kiss. They were home.

#I've been working on this for 2 weeks now #destiel wedding #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #castiel winchester #destiel wedding fic #deancas wedding #supernatural wedding #spn #supernatural #supernatural family #happy destiel wedding day #spn wedding #saileen #destiel fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

4x02: Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester

Then:

Dean Winchester is saved

Now:

Olivia, a hunter, wakes to cold air and flickering lights. She runs for her shotgun just as Bobby leaves a message on her answering machine.

Her EMF is going nuts as she patrols her house. Suddenly ghosts that she recognizes give her the one two punch and she’s a goner.

At Bobby’s, Dean is vehemently denying that he was “groped by an angel.” Bobby’s got lots of lore on angels, though. It seems they’re the only thing that could pull a human soul from Hell.

Sam thinks it’s a good thing that Dean was saved “by one of the good guys.” And Dean wonders if there is a God. BABIES. Dean’s having a hard time believing there’s a god out there that personally believes in him. Oh, buddy, he cares just a little too much, I’d say. Dean’s self-loathing is off the charts though. And this is getting way ahead of myself here, but even though Chuck cares in the sense that Dean is a fun little puppet for him, it’s Cas that really cared all along. He believed in Dean so much, he gave up everything for this man. BIG SIGH.

Dean demands pie before digging into the angel lore.

Sam runs off to forget get the pie, when he sees Ruby lurking. She wants to know if the angel stuff is real. Ruby’s scared for her demon life and takes off.

Sam gets back to Bobby’s in time for all three of them to take off to investigate why Olivia isn’t answering Bobby’s calls. Also, he forgot the pie.

They find Olivia disemboweled on her bedroom floor. And Bobby can’t get a hold of any nearby hunters. They check them out to find everyone dead.

They need to get back to Bobby’s to regroup.

Sam’s getting gas for the Impala while Dean sleeps. He makes a pitstop in the gas station restroom. The room suddenly gets cold and Victor Henrickson appears!

He blames Sam for his death. He starts to attack Sam but Dean comes in with a save and a shotgun.

Bobby meanwhile is haunted by a couple giggling raggedy twin girls. Fun!

Sam and Dean race back to Bobby’s. They can’t get a hold of him so they enter his house with shotguns ready. The boys separate and while Dean checks out the upstairs, Sam heads outside.

Dean runs into the ghost of the woman who was once Meg Masters.

She blames Dean for her possession...and Dean hates himself enough to actually believe it all. It wasn’t your fault, dude. Also, as much as they’ve learned about demon possession and all, if they would have met Meg at any point in the future, they would have just stabbed her with Ruby’s knife and she’d be dead anyway. Idk, saving people is good in theory, but hard in practice for these guys. I also know this is a manipulation. “Do you know what it’s like to be ridden for a month by pure evil?” HE DOES! Leave him alone!

Meanwhile, Sam’s trying to find Bobby outside. He’s currently being held down by a couple scary ghost twins.

Ghost of Meg continues to taunt Dean, and pins her sister’s suicide on him as well. MEG. NO.

Outside, Sam finds Bobby trapped in an old scrap car. He helps break him out and together they swing iron through the ghost girls.

Dean drags himself away from Meg, and aims his gun at the iron chandelier up above. DAMN BOBBY that’s some fancy light fixture work! The chandelier smokes Meg out...for now.

Back in Bobby’s living room, they realize that all the ghosts had a brand on their hands. Bobby hauls out the lore and leads the Winchesters down to...dun dun DUN...his safe room.

We get the grand tour because this is the FIRST TIME WE’VE SEEN IT. This safe room has everything! Iron! Salt! Devil’s traps! Lore! Racy posters! Booze! Weapons! The vanished hopes and dreams of Dean Winchester! A cot complete with restraints! The Winchesters are impressed.

Later, Dean breaks into a theological monologue while making salt bullets. My sweet sunshine! How dare you speak my love language! “If [God] doesn't exist...fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason - just random, horrible, evil. I get it, okay? I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?” (Because, sweetie, freedom is a length of rope and God LITERALLY wants you to hang yourself with it.)

Bobby finds the brand - it’s the “mark of the witness.” They’re ghosts forced to rise and destroy people. In fact, the Rising of the Witnesses is part of an ancient prophecy. A prophecy of...DOOM. It’s a sign of the apocalypse. Dean suggests coping with a series of wish-fulfillment trips including: Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience, and the Bunny Ranch. Somebody please write me that fic. Instead of Dean’s plan, Bobby suggests running an ancient ritual to shut down the witnesses. To do so, they first have to race out of the panic room to gather ingredients before the ghosts have a chance to yank their insides outside.

Ronald from the bank heist greets them at the stairs. Bobby blasts away Dean’s guilt ghost for him, and we cut to a montage of spell preparation. The three of them split up to fetch supplies. Ghosts appear to torment them.

Meg appears to Sam, only she KNOWS more than she should. She knows about Sam’s fraternization with Ruby.

In the kitchen, Victor appears to Dean. He reveals that after the Winchesters left, Lilith gruesomely tortured those left in the station for almost an hour before blowing up the place. While Dean absorbs this fun fact, Victor makes his move, plunging his hand into Dean’s chest.

Sam saves Dean just in time with a well-aimed salt round. They start the ritual, Bobby’s living room teeming with ghosts. Bobby chants while the Winchesters play shotgun whack-a-mole with the ghosts. Meg jabs a hand into Bobby’s chest. Bobby drops the bowl and Dean dives for it like it’s a football, then tosses the spell into the fire to finish the job.

That night, Dean wakes from his slumber.

Castiel stands waiting for him (watching him sleep??) in the kitchen. He congratulates Dean on their triumph over the witnesses, and announces that he has already started doodling Mister Castiel Winchester in his notebooks!

Dean feels a little raw about nearly dying (again) and wonders why angels are total dicks. “Read the bible,” Cas advises. “Angels are warriors of God.” Oh, and also? He’s not here to PERCH ON DEAN’S SHOULDER. Oh honey sweetie baby.

Dean tries to read Cas the riot act and rails against God’s shitty parenting.

Cas: The lord works…

Dean: If you say "mysterious ways" so help me, I will kick your ass

Cas warns Dean that big...no, cosmic things are afoot.

The Rising of the Witnesses is one of sixty-six seals that Lilith is busily unlocking. Each seal is a lock holding Lucifer in his cage. Dean has trouble believing that Lucifer is even REAL. Sassy Cas smiles. “Three days ago you thought there was no such thing as me.”

Cas tells Dean that Heaven isn’t infinite. Angels have died in the battle so far, and more may be at risk. (Excuse me while I weep for the next twelve seasons. There have been 0 days since the last angel mishap.)

“You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?” Cas asks, telegraphing his series story arc. “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” Cas flaps out.

Dean wakes up for realsies. WAS IT ALL A DREAM? He asks Sam if he believes in the Devil…

You Should Show Me Some Quotes:

All I know is I was not groped by an angel

If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?

When have I ever forgotten the pie?

Where’s the pie?

I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #bobby singer #spn 4x02 #Are you there God It's me Dean Winchester #Victor Henriksen #ronald reznick #meg masters #supernatural season 4

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

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What are the best episodes with Castiel to watch?

Hello! Sorry, this took me a while to answer but here you go! If I miss some it’s cause I don’t remember anything or I was just Bleh about it.

Castiel Epiosdes

4x01 ICONIC

4x16 ICONIC

4x20 Jimmy is important to Cas and I love him.

4x22 ICONIC Greenroom. Cas picks a side aka Dean.

5x03 Cas and Dean being friends! Gay panic is real my friends.

5x04 THE END. “It's the end, baby. “

5x13 “Sam is my friend.”

5x14 Cupid (He made a cameo video it was cute) and Cas eating raw meat off the floor.

5x16 “You son of a bitch! I believed in-” OWW

5x17 Drunk Cas.

5x18 At this point he’s just done with everything. So he just carves, YES CARVES, an angel banishing sigil into his own chest. He does not hesitate.

Season 6 is good for Cas because the whole time he’s apart of a civil war and is just a terrible liar.

6x06 I am trying not to make this list about Destiel but the scene where Cas pours Dean’s drink.

6x10 Pizza Man.

6x19 Baby in a trenchcoat aka leader of the heaven rebellion but sure Dean. He’s just cute.

6x20 ICONIC

6x21& 22 Both show that Cas is slowly realizing that he is not in control.

7x01 The whole episode is wild but Cas just going to heaven and saying I’m Daddy now really takes the cake. (not the actual words he used.)

7x02 Cas’s death #3?

7x17 MISHA -- OH um, I mean CAS to the rescue lol

7x21 His cute little laugh! Honey!Cas has my heart and soul. Bonus Destiel: “ When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!” RIP Hester Queen

7x23 “Cursed or not.” Also his little smile when he asks for the plan ahh!

aka all episodes in s7 with Cas in it is worth watching.

Okay, I’ll try to control myself now but watch all of s8 cause its beautiful.

8x02 We see Dean’s POV to the purgatory portal scene. Also, hear Cas’s reason for leaving Dean.

8x07 We see Cas’s POV of the purgatory pov scene. Also, learn how Cas escapes purgatory.

8x08 “I’m gonna be a hunter.” He’s so CUTE!

8x10 Cas needs a hug. Please.

8x17 ICONIC. “what broke the connection?” AHH

8x21 Badass Castiel

8x22 & 23 Castiel wants to do good. He wants to help but he just puts his trust in the wrong people. It hurts me so much. Look he’s just a small child and he is dealing with a lot right now.

Season 9 Cas looks good. Like fanservice time father of two!

9x01 First look at human Cas!

9x03 I can’t watch this ending again. It’ll make me spiral. But it’s a good human Cas and destiel episode. Also, fuck April. She gross.

9x06 ICONIC BLESSED jilted lover.

9x09 He looks good.

9x10 “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb. Less ass.” They are both dumbasses.

9x11 Sam & Cas chaotic vibes

9x14 Cas storyline with the angels starts or at least makes it more clear idk

9x18 Gabriel! Also, “Damn it, Dean!” and Cas accepts his role as a leader. The angels are dumb.

9x22 Sam & Cas dream team lol Also, Cas picks Dean over heaven again.

9x23 “--and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too.”

10x01 Cas draped across the bed like a victorian lady waiting for her husband to come back from the war

10x03 You know that scene where he’s lying on the floor bloody and dying and the Crowley saves him. And then Cas glows and heals with grace and he’s glaring up at Crowley? You know that scene. Yeah. Bonus: I’m gay and bloody Hannah is also hot. Small tip: Ignore the creepy/gross Hannah and Cas set up the writers are trying to do. They are siblings.

10x09 Claire! That’s his daughter!

10x10 Claire and Cas make me cry.

10x14 Deleted scene of “Maybe he’s your boyfriend.”

10x17 Sam & Cas! They are best friends, you guys!

10x18 Charlie and Cas meet! AND THEY ARE ALL HAPPY AND I CRY

10x20 Claire! Cas get’s her a birthday present, grumpy cat stuffy, and she keeps it! And I cry. And she saves him. And she cares about him.

okay 10x21 cause of Charlie and Cas but also fuck this episode. Charlie deserved better.

10x22 ICONIC gosh damn it. I-

10x23 Just for backstory for Cas in s11. Our poor boy can't catch a break.

I worked on this for two hours now Nonny and I don’t even care. I miss Cas.

Season 11 hurts my damn soul because of Cas. I won’t include Casifer, though it was A LOT of fun to watch him.

11x01 “Dean, did it work?” I wanna hold this poor sad madly in love man.

11x02 I can’t handle the torture. He looks so sad.

11x03 Bless you director, Jensen Ross Ackles.

11x04 Okay, not a lot of Cas but I love this episode.

11x06 They don’t talk about his trauma but they show us a little when he tries to leave the bunker. And I cried. Once again. Let. Me. Hold. Him.

11x10 Ambriel glad you are dead cause you were SO rude. Also, Amara girly, queen, I love you but apologize. Stop being mean to Castiel.

11x22 Cas get’s to talk and that’s nice

11x23 “I can go with you.” Sir, you just came back from being possessed by THEE satan and now you are ready to die by your future husband's side. You need therapy.

Okay, I stopped watching live after season 11 because of the way they treated Cas so these next seasons I binged watched ( a couple of times) but wasn’t apart of the fandom so it feels like I didn’t fully grasp them. But here we go!

12x01 Cas meets his mother-in-law. Also the little, “Dean!” when he hugs him.

12x02 Cas and Mick :)

12x03 Agent Beyonce and Zee lol Cas and Crowley and should have had a sitcom

12x08 Cas gets a text (angel radio) that he’s gonna be a Dad and it looks like when Alice had a vision of the Volturi in Breaking Dawn Part 2 lol

12x09 Let me hug Cas! He’s sad over his family being gone. Also, Mary, I love you but I don’t forgive anybody for being mean to Cas. All the Winchesters are on thin fucking ice with me.

12x10 ICONIC destiel. Cas in a female vessel.

12x12 ICONIC “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 Worried husband Dean. Excited soon-to-be father Cas.

12x23 Cas dies (again) from child birth.

Watch the first few episodes of season 13 for the famous widower arc cause wtf they gave us THAT. Also, I don’t care for the other world storyline so I pushed that out of my head.

13x04 Cas annoying a cosmic entity. Fun fact! I dislike the trenchcoat cause it looked so stiff and the color was off idk didn’t look great but Cas looked beautiful when he looks up at the sun! Ah!

13x05 IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN

13x06 ICONIC BROKEBACKNATURAL Also, Jack and Cas meet and I cried damn it. “I missed you.” That’s his son!

13x07 Cas doesn’t put anybody or anything above his baby boy

13x12 Cas has the dumbest husband but at least Cas stabs lucifer. Bet Misha felt good

13x14 Badass Cas. He’s a top. lol

13x16 ICONIC Cas looks...great. Like, watch it. I would do anything for cartoon!cas

13x19Just cause Cas faced someone who tortured him and it’s made to seem like he should get over it and it pisses me off. But Naomi is so cool so idk I like her but would fight her

13x22 Otherworld Cas is there and Cas just kills himself. He needs therapy.

13x23 Cas’s face when Dean says yes. Also, family hunting trip yay

14x01 Dadstiel! Also, Cas looks good.

14x03 Dadstiel.

14x07 Dadstiel. “Losing a son feels different.” And I cry.

14x08 “because I love you Jack. And Sam and Dean--they love you.” THEY DO LOVE HIM AHHHH! Also, Empty deal is made as an excuse for the writers to do something with Cas later.

I just realized season 14 is just Cas trying desperately to keep his family together. He’s trying to take care of them and he has the right words to say to everyone but not much happens besides him wanting to be a family man.

14x14 gay on gay violence lol Also another family hunting trip!

14x15 Fav episode! I just love Sam & Cas’s dumb chaotic energy in this ahaha! They are best friends damn it!

14x18 Cas is trying desperately to keep his family together and he feels responsible for Mary

14x19 Cas should have been allowed to kick Sam and Dean’s dumb flat asses for locking his baby boy in a box.

14x20 AHHH

Divorce arc! All of s15 is great! Except you know...19&20 but we ignore that in this house.

15x03 ICONIC but I will never watch it again

15x06 dude, they really be broken up. Cas kicks ass by himself and he’s fishing and he’s so cute.

15x09 ICONIC Let him talk, Castiel!

15x11 Cas is THEE best Dad and let’s Jack eat hearts

15x13 Just for the family.

15x15 :(

15x17 Cas working to keep his baby boy

15x18 :( I mean at least he’s out but :(

Okay, this took me all day and I had fun! Nobody is gonna read it but who cares cause I just spent my day thinking of Cas when I had a pretty shit day so thanks, Nonnie!

#answering the q's #castiel #cas #episode rec #? idk #but here you go!#Anonymous

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