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wormstacheangel · 3 years

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reminder I am watching The Nanny and I can't help but write scenes as destiel. So here is my second one. I think this one is a bit more sitcom, especially towards the end :) This is for episode 1x11.

wc: 1.7k

The kids have been having a hard time with the one night they don’t have Dean to tuck them in. Whatever Cas did, the kids would correct him and tell him Dean did it this way or did it that way. He simply couldn’t get it right. Even Claire was missing Dean, showing her fear of losing the one person who finally got her to be less angry at the world.

After finally getting the kids to bed, Cas walks into the kitchen to find Balthazar lounging around in his robe with a drink in one hand and scrolling through movie reviews with the other. Cas stands over his shoulder, trying to read it, but his eyes gaze over, not caring enough but still, he sighs.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Balthazar sounded exasperated with him already, even if he has only been in the room for less than a minute.

“Please.” Cas fetches a cup and holds it out for Balthazar to pour some whiskey into it. He has been feeling restless all night but can’t pinpoint the reason why. “You know, Mr. Winchester would have loved talking about horrible movies with you.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I wonder how he is.”

“I’m sure he is enjoying his date, sir.” Balthazar takes a sip of his drink as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him.

Cas walks over to stand by the kitchen island. He already undid his tie, undid his top four buttons, and he can’t imagine how his hair looked after pacing the living room for a good 20 minutes.

He swirled his drink before downing the whole thing in one gulp.

“Or he can be having a miserable time, sir. The man was a mortician, after all. I don’t think that would fit Mr. Winchester’s happy-go-lucky attitude very well.”

Cas perks up at that, feeling his chest warm-up — probably because of the drink actually— as he stands up straighter with a hopeful grin. “You think so?”

“Have I ever wronged you, sir?”

“You’re right, Balthazar! He would never like that-that depressing man.” Cas smile grows. “Cause you know, the kids, they would miss him very much if he left.”

Balthazar shuts his laptop as he rolls his eyes, “For god’s sake, sir! It’s only the first-!” He looks at Cas’s stunned expression before slowly falling back in his chair, a cheeky smile on his face. “I mean, with all due respect, sir.”

“Yes.” Cas sighs, ignoring the outburst. “I think you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a tad bit, sir.”

A chuckle came out of his mouth as Cas opens the trash can and plucks out the bag to throw it outside. He walks towards the back door as he says, “I didn’t see anything between them anyways. I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Cas pulls the back door open only to find Dean and his date making out. Leaving Cas standing there stunned and fumbling, not knowing if he should break them apart or close the door.

“I don’t see anything between them either, sir.” Balthazar joked as they both watched Dean press closer to his date. Unaware of their audience. Balthazar was the one to finally close the door, taking the bag of trash away from Cas, as he leads him towards the stairs. “I believe it’s time for you to go to bed, Mr. Novak.”

“Yes. Yes. You’re probably right.” Cas shook his head, hoping to erase that image away like an etch a sketch, but he still saw Dean’s mouth being sucked on. “Goodnight.”

“Night, sir.”

(More Under The Cut)

In the morning, Cas somehow convinced himself—Balthazar was only half-listening to his words anyways— to talk to Dean about the rules of the house. It had to be done. He didn’t want Dean to bring home strange people to his home, where his children lived. He didn’t want to see—or better yet— he didn’t want his kids to see Dean bring people into his room.

What kind of example will that present to them? Not a very good one.

He knocks at the door and quickly gets an answer to come in; Dean never hesitates to have any of the kids in his room. Cas would usually find them all curled up in Dean’s bed watching cartoons on a Sunday morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Cas poked his head into the room first, and that enough stopped him short. Dean looked like he was getting ready to go out.

Dean is dressed in a comfortable-looking robe, no shirt, and he’s assuming no pants by the fact that he can see a peek of his thighs from the slit in the front.

“Morning, Mr. Novak. What can I do for you?” Dean turned back to the mirror, a small smile stretched across his lips as he continued to fix his hair.

“I just wanted to talk about your um—You know we have rules in this house, and I just wanted to make sure you know them.”

“Oh, I think you have me confused with Claire. She’s two doors down.” Dean teased.

“No. No, this is about your date. About you having dates. And-And having…dates.” Cas sighed the last word, unable to get the word he wants out without his whole body warming up. “Anyways,” He cleared his throat. “The rules of the house with me-”

“Oh, with you? Gosh, maybe I should have read the fine print better.” Dean teased, winking at him through his reflection as he ran his hands through his growing hair.

“No. Not like that!”

“Let me get this straight.” Dean turns to face Cas before practically strutting over to Cas, half-dressed in a semi-open robe. Cas eyes struggle not to travel on the man before him. “We are talking about having sex in my room.”

“Well, not-not us. Not we.” Cas nervous gestures between them, noticing his hand hit Dean’s bare chest in the process because they were standing so damn close.

“We already covered that.” Dean winks at him again, making Cas’s heart race. “Don’t worry, Mr. Novak, I won’t do anything to show a bad example for the children.”

“Good.” Cas stuffs his hands in his pockets as he rocks on his heels. “Yes. Good. Okay!”

“Okay.” Dean turns back to the mirror.

“Where are you going anyways?” That sounded way too demanding. “If I may ask?”

“Well, if you must know. I got another date. We’re meeting for lunch.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Well, I gotta eat.”

“Of course. Well, have fun, Mr. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Mr. Novak. Nice chat.”

Cas makes his way out of the room, bumping on furniture as he went.

Cas walks into the kitchen that same afternoon to find Dean sitting on the kitchen counter, shoveling ice cream into his mouth. Cas quickly rushes over to take the spoon away from him.

“Mr. Winchester! You are lactose intolerant!”

“Well, I deserve a little bit of ice cream after the crap day I had, and the coconut milk one you got me is still frozen solid!”

“Oh,” Cas puts the ice cream away before walking back to him. “Date didn’t go so well this time? Was it the whole creepy mortician life?”

“No,” Dean sighs, watching as Cas runs the Dean-friendly fudge brownie ice cream under some hot water. “Weirdly enough, I was getting used to the idea.”

“Then, what was wrong with him?” Cas hands Dean a spoon, and they both dig into the still hard ice cream, but they can still scape a few bits off. Cas tried not to follow the way Dean’s tongue pokes out and licks at the spoon.

“He was a clown.” Dean sighs, spinning the spoon in his hand before aggressively digging at the pint of ice cream.

“In what way?”

“In a clown way.”

“What-?”

“Red nose! Big shoes! You want me to google it for you?” Cas looks stunned by the outburst. But it clicks; he means an actual fucken clown. He tried not to laugh as Dean let out a defeated sigh. “Sorry. I just thought…I just thought I finally found someone. You know? I’m 30. I should have found someone already.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. But I’m sure you will. You’ll find someone special who won’t honk their nose at you.” Cas bops Dean’s nose, it’s awkward, but Dean still chuckles when he pushes Cas’s hand away.

The atmosphere around them was warm and comforting, something he wishes to drown in. But in a respectable boss-and-employee-who-lives-with-him kind of way. The smile they share fades a little as they look away, and then Dean jumps off the counter with a yawn.

“I’m gonna head to bed now. Goodnight, Mr. Novak.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester.”

And just like that, they are back to professionals.

The following day, Dean is in the room talking to Sam about his dating life.

“You just think the perfect person is gonna knock at your door yelling out ‘there you are! I found you!’”

“Oh, there you are.” Cas walks in, neither Sam nor Dean notices the coincidence, holding out two different ties. “What tie should I wear? Blue or yellow?”

“Blue. Goes great with your eyes.” Dean turns around to tie the tie nicely around Cas’s neck. Sam gave them no attention as it was an action that happens regularly.

When he was done, he fixes Cas’s collar and pats his shoulder before telling him he looks good.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

Cas walks out of the room while Dean continues to get ready as he talks. “I just want a person who actually respects and values my opinions, not just my pretty face.”

“Ah, sorry to bother you again, Mr. Winchester,” Cas walks back in. “but I do value your opinion. Should I wear the gold cufflinks or the silver?”

“Gold is a classic. But make sure it’s those nice ones Claire picked out for you. She’ll love to see them.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you! That would be great.” Cas walks out of the room with a grateful smile.

Sam is still flipping through Dean’s magazine collection as he sighs, “Yeah, Dean, that’s never going to happen. You should have just dated the damn clown,”

“And what? Never see you again cause you’ll be scared my boyfriend is in full makeup? No, thank you. Now let’s go before we’re late to the damn game.”

#nannynatural #thenannynatural #i am insane for doing this but here i am #i hope you didnt think it was gonna be all angsty lol #the nanny is a famous slow burn sooooo #destiel #deancas #destiel au #fic #destiel fic #my writing #wormstachewrites #slow burn #once upon a queue

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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As Above, So Below

I’m still trying to pinpoint exactly why the focus on “heaven is fixed and actually a paradise now!” is just so deeply unsatisfying to me. And I think I need to preface this with a bit of backstory about me, because I think that gives the rest of this essay some relevant context.

I know this isn’t relevant to my main point here, but this is a metatextual and thematically identical example of the exact thing I’m gonna lay out, because context is always helpful. So please forgive this seemingly irrelevant detour, because I promise it will be relevant by the end.

(plus, would it really be an Essay By Mittens™ without at least one baffling tangent? no, it would not!)

Tangent time!

I think everyone that follows me knows how skeptical I was... or should I say how WARY I was of the way Eileen was returned to the narrative this season. We were warned in the PREVIOUS EPISODE how much Chuck was attempting to interfere in their lives. I was accused of some very nasty things, of hating the ship, or hating the character of Eileen, or of hating Sam and not wanting them to be happy. No amount of pointing at obvious warning signs in the text, no amount of yelling about Sam’s God Wound or the absolute klaxon warning that the wound had become “quiet” and his Chuck-O-Vision Nightmares had apparently stopped seemed to matter. I was declared “wrong” and told to shut up.

And then 15.09 happened, and basically everything I’d been wary of was shown to be what actually happened, but there were still unresolved issues. Eileen doubted her own feelings and walked away. She doubted what was actually real. And at the time, I said many times that I would be thrilled to see those issues resolved by the end of the season, and for her to truly know that what she’d felt growing between her and Sam was real. And by the end of the season, despite my personal horror at her previous situation (and having that personal horror compounded by the fandom literally gaslighting me and attempting to bully me into ignoring this basic actual plot detail of this specific growth process which... in the context of what my personal objection was to accepting her return at face value in the first place having been personal trauma associated with gaslighting and manipulation...) by the time 15.18 aired, I was 100% convinced that Sam and Eileen had fully chosen each other, and felt the traumatic pain Sam suffered during that text conversation with her during the snap. She NEEDED to come back, because she had been set up to be part of Sam’s Win. They were clearly each other’s future.

The show literally put in all the work to make even *me* feel this to be True and Right and Good. And then after that point we never even hear Eileen’s name again. We never were told that she was even returned at the end of 15.19. Sam, who had been so entirely devastated by her disappearance in the previous episode that he couldn’t even process it was apparently hit with an amnesia hammer and just... never even thought about her again through a long greyscale life with a blurry baby Dean factory vaguely in the background of a single scene of his life. I can’t credit or justify how after an entire year invested in making us all truly care about Sam and Eileen and the happiness they found in each other if only the cosmos would allow them to choose each other in the end would just... erase all of that in the series finale.

Which brings me to the second tangent, which is specifically about *me,* and how I feel about the cosmic order in the television show Supernatural. Because I feel a lot about it. Probably more than most people ever did. And this is also important to understanding the main underlying point I need to make here.

Something I’ve been most looking forward to, for YEARS, about Supernatural eventually ending someday was writing a book, or a thesis, or even just organizing and compiling all my observations into a cohesive narrative specifically about the cosmology of the Supernatural universe. I’ve been cobbling together my observations and realizations about the nature of heaven, hell, purgatory, the empty, the alternate universes we’ve seen, and yes, even the cosmic function of the mundane level of the story as told by events that transpired on Earth. So of everyone watching this dumb show for the last 15 years, I don’t actually know anyone who cared more that I did about finding a satisfactory resolution and transformation of every plane of existence-- the mortal world AND the “afterlife realms” we’ve experienced on this show. And in the wake of the finale, I feel cheated out of that. Because in the end, it wasn’t about the triumph of free will and a flip of the script, it was just more of the same.

And now that I have those two preliminaries out of the way, I’ll finally get to the point. :’D

(hooray, it didn’t even take 1k words to get there for once!)

The “main stage” of Supernatural has always been Earth. It’s always been “Humanity.” At the very start, we meet two men whose lives had always been dictated to them by higher powers. At first, that “higher power” was their father who raised them in his vengeance mission, who trained them to hunt the supernatural. It was the inciting incident of the entire series, after all, their realization that forces outside of their control had irrevocably altered the course of their lives. It had forever torn down what they’d trusted in family, in personal safety, and would become something they couldn’t outrun or fight back against for long before another wave of cosmic discord would settle over them once more.

We watched this story play out in ever increasing spheres of cosmic significance, until Gabriel laid it out on the table for them in the simplest possible terms (in 5.08).

GABRIEL: You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate. SAM: What are you talking about? GABRIEL: You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. DEAN: What the hell are you saying? GABRIEL: Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always. A long pause. SAM and DEAN look down, then at each other. DEAN: No. That's not gonna happen. GABRIEL: I'm sorry. But it is. GABRIEL sighs. GABRIEL: Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be. ***

And isn’t that all even 1000x more painfully ironic that it all still happened even 10 years later? It was always going to end with them. And lol, “I wish this were a TV show” because if it was then it wouldn’t have to end bloody.

But this… was a Major Acknowledgement that the meta level of this story was consistent, and was telling us something important. It demonstrated that the Cosmic Structure Itself was the cause for Sam and Dean’s “destiny” in this story. But that’s not what the point of this story has ever been.

Nobody (including me, who is literally obsessed with this aspect of the story) has ever invested themselves in the narrative of Supernatural because they cared about the fate of the cosmic order over and above the fate of the characters who had committed to overthrowing it all, to “tearing up the pages” and writing their own destinies. I mean, we became invested because Sam, Dean, and Cas as characters took us by the hand and invited us to come along with them as they battled against fate for the good of EARTH and HUMANITY.

And certainly, Heaven being a horrific sort of eternal replay of the “highlights” of individual souls greatest hits, where free will didn’t apply as everyone was just boxed away into their individual holodecks to serve as some sort of giant Heaven Battery powering the furtherance of this narrative, this “cosmic order” that had become so powerful it dictated the events and manipulated the lives of people who still existed in the ostensible realm of free will and human life on Earth… that couldn’t stand in the end. But what the narrative (and people I’ve seen attempting to justify the finale as narratively sensible) seems to have forgotten was that all of that was Chuck’s construct to begin with. That without Chuck holding his kingdom in Heaven together, the walls of all those soul cubicles ceased to even be relevant.

After spending their entire lives to this point constantly fighting their way to the absolute pinnacle of the As Above, So Below narrative and pulling the plug on the original creator himself, Humanity should’ve triumphed. And I’d argue that it DID, through Jack restoring the missing essential “humanity” to the divine condition. And, silly me, I thought they’d achieved the promise of “paradise” heralded by Jack’s birth at last, and truly “flipped the entire script of the narrative.”

Ever since they thwarted the original apocalypse, I had hope that they would continue to achieve the same result right up the ladder. Metatron trying to fill the role of Chuck Junior hit his own narrative wall in TFW, while Dean’s battle with the Mark of Cain, and Cain telling him he was “living my life in reverse” and would succumb to destiny by killing his loved ones in the “reverse order” to Cain’s own path to downfall cemented this for me. Dean not only failed to kill any of his loved ones (you didn’t kill your own brother. why?), he SAVED them. He didn’t fulfil the prophecy in reverse, he subverted it. He UNMADE it.

Perhaps I was thinking on too grand a scale, that the ultimate inversion wouldn’t be “God is overthrown and replaced by more of the same,” but “God is overthrown and the entire order of the universe is restructured from the bottom up rather than the top down.

I’d hoped against hope that the conclusion of the narrative would be “As below, so above,” with the fundamental power of human love becoming the new foundation of the cosmic order. It never even occurred to me that “taking back the narrative to rewrite it for ourselves” was not the ultimate goal of Team Free Will, or the ultimate expression of their biggest win.

This whole “well heaven really needed to be rebuilt, there was still work to be done!” seems… irrelevant to me if they’d truly won free of the cosmic narrative. The entire structure of the universe-- including Heaven and Hell-- should’ve defaulted to the paradise state that Jack was literally born to bring to fruition. Wasn’t that the point of his entire role in the story, ultimately?

And if that wasn’t the case in the end, why did we never learn the fate of Hell? Was it just… irrelevant and unchanged after this? Or just… abandoned as a concept entirely? It’s just strange to me to put such a focus on heaven being the sole sphere of import in the end that it undercuts the essential humanity of the narrative for me.

The story itself had kept Heaven on a back burner for years, only occasionally mentioning that the structure of the place was falling further and further into disrepair with a dwindling force of angels struggling to keep the walls in place at all, that it seems like it could’ve been an afterthought at the end of the series rather than a focus so large it required the death of both main characters to make sure we all understood that Heaven Had Changed Now. Because TFW had never been fighting to make Heaven right. They’d been fighting to save the world itself, for humanity to all have a chance to live their lives as their own.

And we didn’t need to see that in the final hope they might get their own lives on Earth to explore. In the end, the fundamental narrative that Life On Earth was dictated by the cosmic structure of creation was never fully subverted. And for me, that’s the main reason I just… can’t accept the finale. It wasn’t a victory of free will and humanity, in the end it was just more of the same.

I appreciate the attempts to take the essential bones of the story we did get and apply a different polish to the surface of the skeleton, but to me it still feels like we’re looking at completely different beasts in the end. Like… to me this was as jarring a revelation as those drawing of modern animals reimagined as dinosaurs entirely based on their skeletons. Like, all along the narrative told me I was looking at a swan. They told me this skeleton they’re building out from is definitely a swan, without a doubt. I know what a swan looks like-- a graceful feather-covered bird with magnificent wings. I trusted that in the end it would be at least remotely swan-looking. And then the finale ended up looking like this

and I just don’t even know where everything went so wrong. Or maybe all along I just assumed they actually knew what a swan looked like, but weren’t sure they could actually pull it off and settled for whatever the heck this is instead. Either way, I’m actually kinda grateful to the finale for being so entirely disappointing on every level, because otherwise I probably would’ve tried to adopt the monstrosity of it anyway. And I’m really, really glad I don’t have to.

#spn 15.20 #spn cosmology #heaven hell purgatory and the empty #and this is why no amount of narrative defense of the finale is capable of making me feel any better about it #i admit i thought too big... but it was all right there in the narrative to see #oh well at least all i have to do to hold on to my grandest notion of the universe is throw out the finale :'D

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supernaturaldesires · 3 years

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A Descent Into Insanity - Chapter Seven

Based on request by @sweetpotato-97

Could ask for a fic of Yandere Dean with a reader who sees him as a best friend and a form of brother for them, of course in the beginning Dean was not a yandere but he changed with the passage of time?

Note: the reader in a way is innocent and does not know that Dean is in love with them.

Pairing: Yandere!Dean x Reader

Additional characters: Sam, Bobby, Castiel

Warnings: Death

Word Count: 1,580

“You son of a bitch!” you screamed at Dean as you launched yourself at him, fist raised and ready to swing. Dean ducked out of the way of your punch just in time, and hooked an arm around your waist. He held you against him, your back pressed against his chest. His other arm wrapped around your torso, pinning your arms to your side. “Let go of me!”

Sam took a step towards you, but Dean tutted at him. “Nuh-uh, Sammy,” he hissed. “Take another step and I swear I’ll snap her neck. If I can’t have her, no-one can.”

“Then I guess no-one’s having me,” you growled as you slammed your heel onto his foot and just as he buckled, you drove your elbow into his crotch. He released you, winded, and you darted forward towards Sam, out of Dean’s reach.

As Dean began to gain his composure, he glared at you, shooting darts through his eyes. “You said we would be together,” he bellowed. “You said you were mine!”

“You fucking drugged me, Dean!” You screamed back at him. “Again! Since when is that your answer when someone doesn’t agree with you?”

Dean lunged at you, but Sam was ready for him and tackled him to the ground. Even Bobby darted in front of you, ready to act as the second line of defence. Cas came to Sam’s aid in restraining the elder Winchester whilst Bobby guided you away. You took several steps backwards but couldn’t take your eyes off the man who you had considered to be your brother until just a few days ago.

“How has this happened, Bobby?” You whispered softly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “What happened to him?”

Bobby sighed as he watched over Sam and Cas, who had now been able to restrain Dean to a chair with rope. “I wish I knew,” the older man murmured. You could see in his eyes that he was struggling with the scene himself. After all, he was like a father to Dean and Sam, and to witness your child become a threat to his own family is difficult for any parent to process.

“I can’t stay.” The words broke the silence that had hung in the air for the last hour. You, Sam and Bobby had been sat around the kitchen table, while Cas kept an eye on Dean. Since you had all seated at the table, you’d all waited for someone to speak; for someone to find the right words.

Sam lifted his sad eyes to you. “Y/N-” he said gently, but you stopped him.

“No, Sam,” you insisted. “It’s the only way. You can’t kick Dean out, he’s still your brother. For whatever reason, he’s acting like this because of me. If I get as far away from him as possible, maybe he’ll forget about me.”

“You’re still family,” Sam argued. “We can find a way to sort this out.”

“And even if you did leave,” Bobby added. “There’s nothing to say he will forget you, that he won’t try and look for you. Obviously we’d do what we can, but we can’t exactly lock him up forever or keep him under 24-hour surveillance.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel safe around him anymore.” Your voice was beginning to crack as tears resurfaced. “And you’re right Bobby, we don’t know that he’ll forget about me.” You lifted your eyes to meet theirs, tears now rolling down your cheeks. “But I have a plan.”

Dean’s POV

“What is going on with you, Dean?” Cas asked for the fifth time. Still, I didn’t answer him, keeping my gaze fixated on the floor. All I could think about was Y/N. Where was she? I needed to see her. I needed to apologize for threatening her before. If I could just talk to her, I could make her understand. “Dean!”

“Shut up, Cas!” I growled. “I’m not talking to anyone except Y/N!”

Cas got in my face, gripping my shoulders tight. “Damn it, Dean, something is happening to you. You need to tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing is going on!” I roared. “I just. Want. Y/N!” I fought against the restraints so hard that I nearly tipped the chair over, but Cas kept me upright. I glared at the angel until he finally gave up and sat in the chair opposite me. We both sat there unmoving, in complete silence, as the hours ticked by.

There was no clock in the room so I had no sense of how long had passed, but it must have been hours - perhaps even half a day. Where was Y/N? What if she had left? My fists balled and my throat clenched at the thought. If she had left, where would she go? She didn’t have any family besides us, I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her. Suddenly my bedroom door flung open, interrupting my thoughts. Sam marched in first, but he didn’t even look at me. His eyes immediately fell on Cas and beckoned him to step outside. Where was Y/N? I craned my head, but they closed the door behind them. I screamed at the closed door in frustration.

Only a few moments passed before they re-entered; Sam first, followed by Cas, then eventually she glided in. Maybe it was prolonged amount of time away from her, but she looked more dazzling than ever. “Y/N,” I breathed with relief. “I’m so glad you’re safe, that you’re here. I was getting so worried. Look, I’m so sorry about-”

“Listen, Dean,” she said firmly, folding her arms and addressing me in a stern tone as though I was a child. “Whatever this is needs to end. This isn’t normal. This isn’t healthy.”

“Y/N, please let me explain,” I rasped. “I’m sorry about earlier, truly I am. Please understand that I love you. I realise this kind of love I’m feeling is different, but that doesn’t make it any less real.” I was beginning to shake with panic now. I couldn’t lose her. Not now, not after everything. “Please, let me prove myself to you.”

Y/N sighed and shook her head, a forlorn look on her face. “It’s too late for that, Dean,” she mumbled in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

She began to approach me then and for a split second I had hope that she still felt something for me. Then I saw her hand reach behind and reveal a knife from the waistband of her jeans. “Y/N, what are you doing?” Panic began to flood through me. I looked desperately to Sam who looked equally panicked.

“Y/N, wait!” Sam yelled and launched himself at her, tackling her from behind. They came crashing down to my feet in a cacophony of shouts and groans. Then came a distinctive sound. A horrific, abrupt grunt.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. The air was still, as if not a soul in that room was breathing. “Cas, release me right now!” I demanded, not taking my eyes off my brother at my feet. His large body completely covered Y/N, I couldn’t see her small frame until he shakily came to his feet. It was only then that my eyes adjusted to the pool of blood that was seeping from her body.

My heart stopped beating, my throat constricted. I couldn’t breathe. “No,” I rasped, collapsing to my knees. With shaking hands, I turned her body to reveal the dagger protruding from her chest. “NO!”

Your POV

“I’ll see you ‘round, Bobby,” you said thickly, trying desperately not to cry.

The older man gave you a sympathetic smile as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Gonna miss you, kid,” he said softly. “Don’t be afraid to check in every now and again.” Once he released you, he opened your car door and you bundled yourself into the driver’s seat, throwing your duffel bag into the passenger side. “Oh, and Y/N?” You looked up at Bobby. “Using a shapeshifter to fake your death? That’s a mighty smart move. You’re a bright kid - it’s almost scary sometimes. Although, I have to admit that having him bring the knife out on Dean was pretty risky.”

“I know, but if my death was in Dean’s defence, he can’t hold it against Sammy. He might be pissed to begin with, but he’ll understand eventually why Sam would come to his defence. It had to be an accident, otherwise Dean would find someone to blame, to hold a grudge against.”

Bobby shrugged with a grunt as he closed your car door. Winding down your window, you gave Bobby a fist-bump before you pulled away. You were less than a mile away from the Bunker when your phone pinged with a message; just one word from David: “Done.”

After you and the Winchesters had helped David find his brother’s killer a few years back, he had insisted that he owed you a favour, should you ever need it. Sam and Dean didn’t bother taking the guy’s number, but you did. You were never sure you would ever actually need it, but you figured it didn’t hurt to have a few tricks up your sleeve should the time ever come.

Heading nowhere in particular, you cranked up the volume of your radio and let the wind and the smell of gasoline sooth your worries as you drove into the sunset.

-FIN-

<= Chapter Six

Dean tags: @akshi8278, @maniacproffesor

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #fanfic #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester #a descent into insanity #yandere!dean #dean x reader

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honorbound-to-the-pen · 3 years

Text

Fictober Day 5

Prompt number:5 (I’m not saying I told you so...)

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Tags: Alcoholism (slight), hallucinations, implied torture (slight), implied self-harm (slight)

Maybe Next Time You’ll Listen

Groaning as he came to consciousness, Sam rolled onto his back to stare at the dingy motel ceiling. Blinking his eyes several times and rubbing them with the heel of his hand, Sam let out a long sigh, trying to figure out what had woken him. Judging by the light weakly filtering in through the motel window, barely interrupted by the gossamer-thin curtain that covered it, it was getting to be 5:00 am, and yet Sam still felt as if he’d been woken up just as he fell asleep. Exhaustion weighed heavy on his body, a bone-deep tiredness that he should have been used to by now, after years on the road, running from one emotional devastation to another. Recently, though, the heaviness seemed to be getting stronger, harder to carry.

Looking over towards the other side of the small room, briefly glancing at the clock on the nightstand (which confirmed it was indeed 5:17 am), Sam saw Dean, who was still asleep, curled up deep in his blanket, his face pressed into his pillow. In sleep, as it sometimes was, Dean’s face looked years younger, and he looked at peace, not actively scared and fighting something in his mind— a look he had on his face almost constantly now.

Smiling to himself and continuing to rub sleep out of his eyes, Sam turned over to face the wall and had to suppress a scream. Snapping his arm back to grab his gun and level it at the figure sitting in his bed, the sound came out more as a punched out whimper as his breath left him and he slammed his teeth down on his lip.

Sitting cross legged, leaning against the wall and reading a book with a pair of ridiculous glasses perched on his nose, was Lucifer. Shaking his head and clicking his tongue softly, Lucifer moved the muzzle of the gun to the side with a finger.

“C’mon Sammy, is that any way to greet your best friend?” Sam was frozen, his eyes wide and his breath coming fast, the gun pointed back at Lucifer but trembling noticeably.

“Sammy? Are you ok?” Dean asked, sitting up groggily and rubbing his eyes, turning towards Sam and immediately tensing and reaching for his gun.

“I’m fine, Dean, just had a really realistic nightmare. Go back to sleep.” Setting the gun down on the nightstand and digging his nails into his palms to hide the shaking and to try and banish Lucifer from his head, Sam stood up and walked to his suitcase.

“Going for a walk. Can’t sleep, too much adrenaline.” Dean huffed and flopped back down onto his pillow, tossing his gun onto the nightstand. Sam winced at the loud noise, and again at Lucifer’s quick chuckle.

“Aw, Sammy, I’m hurt. Don’t wanna let big brother Dean know I’m here? We could all have a little chat, a little family reunion. Now all we need is my hopeless brother, and it’ll be a real one.” When Sam didn’t respond, staring determinedly into his suitcase as he pulled on his jacket and a pair of jeans, Lucifer sighed and uncrossed his legs, tossing his book and spectacles onto the bed on the side where Sam had been sleeping, walking over to stand behind Sam.

“That’s not very nice, Sammy, ignoring me like I’m not real. If you’re not going to be nice to me, I don’t think I have to be nice to you, either,” he said, leaning in over Sam’s shoulder, his breath hot on Sam’s cheek and neck.

Straightening quickly and walking back to the nightstand to grab his gun and stick it in his waistband, Sam then strode quickly for the door, patting his pockets once to check for his room key and wallet. The small parking lot was dark and cold, and Sam could see his breath in the air. Turning to glance behind him, he could also see Lucifer’s breath, who was ambling casually after Sam, his hands tucked in his pockets.

Striding to a picnic bench surrounded on two sides by a small line of trees around the back of the motel and sitting down, Sam stared resolutely into the woods, digging his nails into his palms. When he looked up and saw Lucifer sitting on the picnic table, feet on the bench, he dug the thumbnail of his right hand into his left palm, closing his eyes and trying to settle his breathing.

“Brrrr, it’s cold out. Why did you have to pick a picnic table in the woods? Couldn’t you have taken me to a coffee shop or a library, like a nice date? C’mon Sammy, you know that’s not going to work. And as much as I like to see you in pain, it’s no fun if you’re the one causing it. You can’t get rid of me, you let me in. You let this happen, Sammy. Time to deal with the consequences.”

Opening his eyes, Sam saw Lucifer sitting as close to him as he could without touching him, rubbing his arms with his hands without rolling down the sleeves on his olive green button-up. When Lucifer saw Sam looking, he put on a sad, pouting look and gave a performative shiver.

“There he is! And here I was, thinking I would have to resort to much more crude measures. Though of course, I will anyway; it’s so much more fun.”

“What do you want, Lucifer,” Sam ground out, moving to the end of the bench and digging his nail harder into his palm.

“I should be asking you, Sammy. You’re the one who let me in, after all. Almost as if you wanted me here…”

“No! I don’t want you here, I never asked for you to be here. Just leave me alone.”

“No can do, Sammy. I’m inside your head; much harder to get rid of than escaping from the Cage. Very annoying, by the way, leaving me alone with Michael.” Rolling his eyes dramatically, Lucifer threw his hands up. “I thought we were friends, Sammy, and then you left me with my self righteous, stuck-up older brother. I would never do that to you; here I am! Wouldn’t want you to be alone with Dean, everything would be doom and gloom all the time. And I like doom and gloom, but yeesh, he’s a bit much for me sometimes. Maybe if he was a bit more...I don’t know, peppier? Think I should suggest it to him? Do you think he’ll listen to me? Hey, where are you going? It’s a bit rude to walk away from someone who’s having a conversation with you.”

While Lucifer prattled on, Sam stood up and turned back towards the motel, jogging towards the parking lot and back into the room. From behind him, he could hear Lucifer yelling after him.

“You can run all you want, Sammy, but you can’t hide!”

As soon as the sun rose enough for it to be reasonably considered morning, Sam woke Dean up and dragged him out on a case. Lucifer had left him alone for the hours since their scene at the picnic table, but when Sam sat down in the passenger seat of the Impala, his eyes connected with Lucifer’s in the rearview mirror. His breath picked up and he tensed up, resisting the urge to turn around. In the mirror, Lucifer smiled widely and opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something.

“Are you alright, Sam? You’ve been acting weird ever since this morning,” Dean said, sliding into the driver’s seat, managing not to rumple his suit in the process. He looked at Sam quizzically in between turning the car on and checking his reflection in the rearview mirror. To Sam, it seemed like he made eye contact with Lucifer, who stuck his tongue out at Dean, but Dean didn’t react, still focused on his hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a really shitty nightmare. Working on the case should help take my mind off of it.”

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Dean said, already focusing on the day ahead of them as he backed out of the parking spot and into the lot.

Throughout the day, Lucifer followed Sam and Dean around on the case, always just at the edge of Sam’s vision but never speaking. Whenever he dared to look over, Lucifer was always leaning against the wall, staring intently at whoever the brothers were talking to, or picking at dirt under his nails with a knife. The knife always made Sam pause, for several seconds taking him back to the brief moments he could remember of what happened in the Cage. After the times where he looked up and saw Lucifer with a knife, he made a point of throwing himself even harder into the case, stopping himself from looking over at Lucifer for as long as his curiosity could manage.

After 12 hours of interviewing witnesses and convincing police officers to let them into crime scenes, Sam and Dean headed back to the motel. Once inside their room, Sam threw himself down on his bed, grabbing his laptop, phone and headphones, desperate for some kind of distraction. Across the room, Dean was changing into jeans and a flannel, running his hands through his hair a few times.

“I’m going to the bar to see if I can hustle pool. You wanna come, Sammy?”

“No thanks, Dean, I’m going to do a bit more research on the case and prepare some more questions for the witnesses we’re going to interview tomorrow.”

“Alright, suit yourself. Don’t wait up, there should be leftovers in the fridge, make sure you eat something.”

“Thanks mom, I will.” Sam rolled his eyes but smiled affectionately at Dean. “Have fun.”

As soon as Dean left the room, Sam dropped his smile and turned to face Lucifer, who was sitting at the small round table that demarcated the living room from the bedroom and bathroom, tapping his fingers.

“Finally ready to give me some attention, Sammy? I was nice and quiet all day, went around with you and Deano on the case, didn’t stab anyone or set anything on fire.”

“You’re not real.”

“Come ON, Sam. You don’t really believe that, do you? Or maybe you do, and you’re trying to protect yourself from all the other possibilities. What if you’re still in the Cage? Never made it out, still stuck here with me and Michael.”

Sam stood up and walked to the table where Lucifer was sitting. Lucifer perked up for a minute, but when Sam picked up his gun and the bottle of whiskey Dean had left on the table, he slumped back down. When Sam pointed the gun at him, he simply rolled his eyes.

“Come on Sam, you know that won’t work. I’m a hallucination, I’m in your head. If you shoot me, all you’re going to do is draw a bunch of attention to yourself, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we? I don’t think you could keep up a confident and controlled FBI persona right now, with how skittish you are.” To emphasize his point, Lucifer jerked forward in his seat, making like he was going to lunge at Sam. Sam stumbled back with a shout, clutching the gun with both hands. Settling himself back in his seat, Lucifer laughed and shook his head.

“See? You really are a kicked puppy, aren’t you, Sammy. I can see why everyone says it: the hair, the eyes, the attitude. Oh don’t give me that face, you’re making it too easy!”

Sam clenched his jaw, turning to toss the gun on the nightstand before slumping down on his bed again. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he opened the bottle of whiskey and held it to his mouth, taking several deep swigs. It burned going down, but it was a welcome distraction from the devil sitting at the kitchen table.

“You can’t escape from me that way either, Sam. I told you, hurting yourself isn’t going to get me to go away, as amusing as it is to see you try. But of course, you’re not going to stop just because I told you that, because why would you listen to me? I’m just the big bad devil, and you’re a Winchester, you’re so big and strong and smart, you always know what to do.”

Sitting up and reaching for his headphones, Sam plugged them into his phone and pulled up his music library, scrolling until he got to an AC/DC album he had listened to when he was a kid, whenever his dad and Dean had gone out on a hunt together and left him behind.

With the music playing, he couldn’t hear Lucifer, and with his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling he couldn’t see him, either. The liquor was already giving the world a pleasantly fuzzy feeling, making him a bit less surprised when someone grabbed his arm.

He flailed in the direction of his gun, but stopped and groaned when he saw Lucifer, sitting on the bed next to Sam, poking him with the handle of his knife.

Throwing his arm over his eyes, Sam took several more mouthfuls of booze, swallowing quickly. After lying there for a few minutes, surprisingly uninterrupted, Sam started to drift off to sleep, but something stopped him. Was the room getting warmer?

Opening his eyes again, his gaze settled on the ceiling after a few seconds. He didn’t understand what he saw, so he kept staring for a few seconds, before his brain caught up with his eyes. Sitting up did two things: confirm to him that the room was on fire, and make him feel violently nauseous. He could feel the fire burning him as it swept across the floor and onto the bed, but he forced himself to stay seated, closing his eyes and concentrating on the music in his ears. It wasn’t real, there was no way a fire could have started in the minutes since Dean left. And the fire alarms would be going off, drawing the attention of the entire motel.

Looking up proved that the fire alarms and smoke detectors were all silent, even though the fire was still climbing up the walls and smoke was filling the room. The heat was starting to sear Sam’s skin, even through the heavy haze of alcohol covering his brain and body.

Laying back down on the bed, Sam stared at the ceiling. Did he really care if it was a real fire? If this was how it would be every day from now on, with Lucifer always there, waiting for him to let his guard down, was it really worth it? Even after one day, the exhaustion he had woken up with was already almost unbearable, and he felt isolated, scared and alone. He could tell Dean, but Dean had only just started to forgive Sam for being soulless and for drinking demon blood, and he had a feeling the hallucinations of Satan weren’t going to help his case.

“Alright, Sammy, fine. You win this one. Have fun drinking yourself to sleep tonight, I’m sure you’ll love that decision tomorrow. Have fun with all those nightmares you’re going to have; my treat. I’ll still be here in the morning, don’t worry.” Sam didn’t stop to wonder how Lucifer was talking to him, seemingly in his head, definitely through the rock still blaring in his ears. Lucifer was right, after all: he was trying to drink himself to sleep, in the hopes that Lucifer would be gone in the morning and the day would prove to be a sort of sick joke, or a one-off thing.

As Sam got deeper into the bottle, his thoughts got more and more muddy, until the room looked as if it was spinning from where he laid on the bed, and he couldn’t remember why he had started drinking in the first place. Setting the bottle down on the nightstand, he pushed it over towards Dean’s bed, tipping it over in the process and splashing whiskey onto Dean’s sheets. He stared at it for a moment before turning onto his back and closing his eyes, falling into an alcohol-induced stupor.

Sam could tell he had regained consciousness, reluctant as he was to come back to the world. AC/DC was still screaming through his headphones, sending thousands of nails into his foggy brain with each chord. Yanking the earbuds out of his ears and throwing them onto the bed next to him, he looked to his right and saw Dean, asleep in his bed, on the opposite side as last night.

After staring for a few seconds, waiting to see if Dean would disappear, if he was part of a dream too, Sam groaned softly and turned over, facing the wall. Just as the morning before, there sat Lucifer, who looked up and fixed Sam with a simpering look.

“I’m not saying I told you so…”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34308391

#fictober21 #fictober #fictober 2021 #writing #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester #lucifer #tw hallucinations #angst

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deantransgressions2 · 3 years

Text

13x02 the rising son

21 transgressions. enjoy.

#1: dean criticized sam for wanting to protect jack, and then devalued jack’s entire existence to an “it”.

sam: “look… losing mom and cas, that’s a lot to process, dean, especially on no sleep. and the kid...”

dean: “the “kid”? come on, man, you know how this plays out. kook, when we try to bend the rules, pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad or that things will get fixed, that’s when people that we care about get hurt. and then we end up doing what we should’ve done in the first place, which is end the problem. so this time, let’s start with the obvious. soon as i find a way to take care of… it.”

time tag: 3:17

#2: after sam failed again to make dean see jack as a child, he tried to make dean see jack as an asset. dean refused to listen or consider any of sam’s insights, and admitted that he is giving up on family, which is something he claims he would never ever ever ever ever do.

sam: “dean, “the problem” might be our only shot at saving mom.”

dean: “mom’s gone. there’s no fixing that.”

time tag: 3:44

#3: jack was happily watching scooby doo and bothering nobody, so of course dean walked over and scolded him, then turned the tv off. apparently watching tv is illegal now yall!!

time tag: 9:03

#4: told jack to take the couch and threw a bible at him. luckily, sam isn’t a child murderer and made sure jack felt welcome. sam = good dad. but, dean winchester is already worse of a father than john was. you hate to see it.

time tag: 9:11

#5: dean criticized jack for eating the exact same way he does. mocking a 3 day old child just for the sake of it, just to make himself feel better. he is pathetic. idk why jack and sam put up with him these next 3 seasons.

dean: “you can slow down, you know. that’s stuff’s not gonna disappear.”

sam: “ever seen you eat, dean?”

time tag: 10:02

#6: yells at jack for copying his movements. he’s 3 days old...3 days old. 3.

time tag: 11:35

#7: sam has been rooting for jack to not be evil. he is focusing on WHO jack is not what he is. dean, however, is counting on jack being evil so he can murder him. the confirmation bias is real here. any instance of jack showing humanity dean just tunes it out. this conversation should remind you of dean’s view of sam in s4/5

donatello: “yes, well, not so much anymore. but, uh…look at you. the waves of power… so intense.”

dean: “maybe less human than we thought.”

donatello: “fascinating. you know, i’ve met your father. your power’s nothing like his. not dark, not toxic.”

sam: “that so?”

dean: “not yet.”

time tag: whole time but 15:58

#8: he was a dick to the tattoo artist for no reason expect that he loves to take his anger out on others.

time tag: 16:44

#9: when in doubt blame sam! when in doubt accuse sam! when in doubt manipulate sam! wooohooo!!!

sam: “so you heard donatello. no evil vibes from jack.”

dean: “proves nothing, except that you’re way too attached to this kid. you need to see this for what it is, okay?”

time tag: 16:54

#10: lessons from our sexist macho man icon:

jack: “it hurt.”

dean: “okay, see, sometimes, things hurt, so you just man up and deal with it.”

time tag: 17:21

#11: some more of dean refusing to listen to other’s correct observations of jack, because there is no changing his mind that jack is evil. he doesn’t need proof that jack is evil, because he doesn’t want it. he wants to murder jack regardless of who he is. dean only cares about WHAT jack is. sigh. 2x03 i miss you.

time tag: 18:43

#12: dean claimed that since cas loved jack, jack is therefore responsible for his murder. even though it was literally lucifer that murdered cas, not jack. so, using dean’s logic: sam and john killed mary, sam killed jess, dean killed john, sam killed dean, sam and dean and bobby killed jo and ellen, dean killed sam, dean and sam killed cas multiple times, sam and dean killed kevin....etc etc. do you see how fucking stupid dean is being rn?

sam: “okay, look, yeah, jack is on lucifer’s family tree. but we don’t know if that dna is stronger than Kelly’s, or his connection with cas.”

dean: “oh, you mean the connection that got cas killed?”

sam: “i’m just saying, jack doesn’t have to be evil. we can teach him not to be.”

time tag: 18:53

#13: dean called jack ‘the devil’ which made jack so upset he ran away. this is a transgression obviously towards jack, but also towards sam. dean said that a 3 day old child (who literally hasn’t done anything wrong) is the devil. he said it in front of his brother who was tortured by the ACTUAL devil (and michael) for centuries. it’s insensitive and fucked up beyond belief for dean to use his brother’s abuser to try and manipulate him to conform to his beliefs on jack.

NOT TO MENTION that dean is the only member of team free will with absolutely no supernatural abilities at all. he does not understand jack. he does not understand lucifer. dean is the LAST person who should have a say in if jack is good or evil.

time tag: 19:25

#14: this is a abuse apology. many victims of abuse are manipulated to apologize for them and sympathize with them. this is a prime example of that:

sam: “dean doesn’t hate you. it… look, sometimes the wires in dan’s head get crossed and...and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and...and fear.”

jack: “why would he be afraid?”

sam: “because dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone.”

time tag: 20:45

#15: did the writers include this scene to emphasize that dean is john (but worse)....because that’s exactly what it did.

bartender: “i hated my old man. I ran away myself. see, my mom would never stick up for me. but…you know kids. no matter what, they still want the old man’s approval. well, that’s how it was with me, just…”

dean: “you know, that’s, uh, that’s how it was with me, too.”

i’m not sure what dean is referring to here because based on what the bartender is saying, sam would relate more to her story than dean but ok! sure! pity party time needs no logic

time tag: 22:17

#16: sam had to seperate jack and dean in order to protect jack. sam felt that jack was safer with a man that had no soul (donatello), over his own brother. and he was right!

time tag: 23:11

#17: dean made fun of sam and jack by calling jack sam’s “new pal” as a way to not only degrade jack, but also ridicule sam.

time tag: 27:08

#18: dean is angry that sam isn’t blindly following along with his plans for jack’s death. and everything sam tried to say to get dean out of his child murdering mindset goes in one ear and out the other.

sam: “point is…if you and i are gonna do this, keep jack on the right side of things, then...then we have to be on the same page.”

dean: “okay. well, that’s the problem, though, sam, ‘cause we’re not on the same page. like, at all.”

sam: “all right. you know what? i know what’s going on here.”

dean: “oh. okay. well, please, tell me, what’s going on here?”

sam: “you thinking mom is gone and cas is gone, and that jack can’t be saved. dean, after everything we’ve gone through… we just lost people we love, people who have been in our lives for a long time. everything’s upside-down. i get it. but we’ve been down before. i mean, rock bottom. and we find a way. We fix it because that’s what we do. and jack w-wants to do the right thing. jack’s scared to death of who he is, and he’s scared of you.”

you know who else was scared of their father figure? dean. and sam. and now jack. dean stans can hate john all they want but the truth is dean is far worse. they both deserve a special place in hell together

time tag: 27:19

#19: the mental gymnastics it takes to come to this conclusion about jack. to ignore any and all proof that jack isn’t evil. it’s shocking how strongly dean holds onto hate and his need to kill.

sam: “dean, wait a second. the kid came through for us today. jack saved us.” dean: “no. no, whatever that was, that was a reflex. it was a sneeze. maybe next time he sneezes, he kills us. goodnight.”

time tag: 39:32

#20: dean drove jack to self harm. dean then proceeded to angrily tell him off and call him names for doing so.

dean: “okay. what the hell? give me that. you...don’t be an idiot. look, a, this is not gonna do anything to you, okay? and b, you… what the hell?”

time tag: 40:35

#21: this is psychological abuse. this is child abuse. this scene is as bad as the panic room of s4. disgusting. and some people actually ship this man with this child’s father (castiel). get help.

dean: “you know, my brother thinks you can be saved.” jack: “you don’t believe that.” dean: “no, i don’t.”

jack: “so… if you’re right?”

dean: “if i’m right… and it comes to killing you… i’ll be the one to do it.”

time tag: 41:07

#13x02 the rising son #this episode took me like 2 hours to do oh my GOD #heavy #spn #dean negative #dean critical #jack kline #<3 #tw verbal abuse #emotional manipulation/abuse #tw self harm #pity party tag!#controlling #gaslighting #hypocrisy #sexism #belittling #anti dean winchester

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verobatto · 3 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XCV

It was a love story from the very beginning.

And You Are Not Here... (Part. III)

(13x04)

Hello my friends! This is another meta from season 13. We are still mourning with Dean...

I'm gonna focus in just one episode, because I have a lot of things to say about this one. Obviously, the majority of the things have been already analyzed by the meta community.

But, let's see what we find...

Move on

Remember how the last episode ended, with Dean blowing out his feelings and pain to his brother, so, this episode starts with Sam trying to talk with his brother about that. And by that I mean: Cas.

SAM: Hey. How you feelin’?

[DEAN is working on his laptop. He looks up at SAM, but doesn’t reply.]

Sam understands now that fact he had always suspect, what really means to Dean losing Castiel. But Dean sees it coming and doesn't answer, because he knows he let his pain and mourn talking by themselves, and now he wants to come back to hide behind his walls. But Sam won't let that goes so easy. Another heated discussion about Jack brings the topic back.

SAM: Dean, we can’t hide him forever. And, you know, just keeping him cooped up here isn’t working.

DEAN: Yeah, it is, actually. You wanna know why? Because as long as he’s here, he’s not out there doing God knows what. So what, does this mean that your plan for bringing Mom back isn’t working? ‘Cause I’ll say it again—Mom’s dead, Sam. Lucifer ripped out her freakin’ heart. Now, the sooner you can wrap your head around that, the sooner we can all move on.

(Gif set credit @demondetoxmanual )

Look at this, Sam takes Dean's words and immediately repeats the ask but with another different meaning, aeaning his brother gets immediately. Sam tilts his head, and his eyes are searching for the answer in Dean's face, because he knows he won't have the answer in words from him.

These exchange of gazes is so so important, because Dean is saying "Are you really asking me if I can move on... From CAS?" Because is obvious Sam was implying that, for Dean, losing Cas was more painful and unbearable than losing Mary. "You want to move on, from mom?"

The pause, the coma, is pointing Sam is referring Castiel, not mom. Is not mom the one you want to move on, right?

Dean's silence is priceless, both men talks without talking, and both know what they're talking about. Of course Dean can't move on from Castiel. And Sam knows it. Because he experienced the same with Jess.

And Dean changing the subject after that is saying HE WON'T TALK ABOUT IT.

Lies and Toxicity

We have a beautiful scene between Jack and Sam, in which Jack snaps all the bad things he heard last night. But Sam explains to him, they need his help to bring Mary back, and Jack can connect again with S through the pain of losing their moms. And he gives the kid a tip to conquer Dean's sympathy.

SAM: (...) Listen, if there’s one thing that Dean respects, it’s effort. So come along. Help us out. Let’s go be the good guys.

So we'll see the kid really giving everything in this mission.

Another quote that caught my attention was Jack saying this:

JACK: I thought lying was wrong.

Just came to my mind episode 14x19, when Jack is sick of so much lies and turn the world into 'just truth's real madness!

And another foreshadow in the same episode we will have Cas coming back, they're talking about this ...

DEAN: (...) why’d she come back from the dead and knife his ass?

JACK: People come back?

SAM: When a person dies and their soul can’t move on…

Talking about this in this specific episode has a meaning: the wife, the woman that man loved coming back from the death, is a reflection of Castiel coming back at the end of this episode. Souls that can't move on, is talking about Dean and Castiel's decease.

Another thing that is pointed in this episode is Sam seeing the bad things of John Winchester in his brother.

Castiel in the Empty

As the preamble to Castiel in the Empty, we had this dialogue here...

JACK: My mother… could she be a ghost?

SAM: No, we, um… we burned the body.

DEAN: That’s right, and what gets burned… stays dead.

Dean is saying this to himself because they burnt Cas' body too, but this scene is cut and we jump into the next one: Castiel walking around the Empty.

Then, again, Dean goes with this quote here...

DEAN: So, aside from getting dead, what do Gloria and Wes have in common?

And the scene cuts to Castiel again, emphasis in loved people that was dead, and now comes back from it.

Another interesting scene is Dean finding Gloria's diary of mourning.

SAM: More of the same. Um, he really was into the whole catharsis thing.

DEAN: Yeah, sure. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, it’s like another word for “happy ending”.

Dean shows here he knows exactly what that is, and how you can feel when you lose the love of your life. The "happy ending" is a reference of a suicidal thoughts as another way out from the pain. And as we will see in the next episode, was a way out Dean was considering for himself. Also, the journal was made by John after Mary died, and was made by this widow, after his wife died. Is important because in the interview with MIA (the ship shifter therapist) she will ask Dean if he has a diary.

Sam talks about catharsis, as an important way to process the pain, and he really tried to make his brother to do that at the beginning of the episode. Failing.

MIA: Mm. Most of the people I see are in the same boat. No warning, no goodbye, no closure.

These words play an important role for Sam, Jack and Dean, in loosing their mothers and loosing Castiel.

They exchanged heated words again in front of Mia, Sam accusing Dean because he is not carrying well with the deaths, and we'll have again an indirect question, with second meaning. Sam will be talking about Castiel again. But then, and just like Dean did at the end of the previous episode, Sam will have his blow out about losing Mary. Is a blatant comparison between Romantic Love (CAS/Dean) and Family Love (Sam/Mary).

Sam leaves, and Mia points at Dean. Dean drinks from his flask. He was doing that and eating a lot, as he always does when he loses Cas.

MIA: (...) You’re angry, Dean.

DEAN: And?

MIA: And if you don’t want to do anything about it, that’s your business. But you’re aiming it at everyone in your life.

Dean will take these words and do something about it, at the end of the episode. But, I want to talk a little about visual Narrative here, because while Mia was talking with Dean, there was a picture behind her, with BLUE/GREEN AND RED COLORS (Destiel).

The scene between CAS talking with the empty that had taken his shape is intertwined with the shape shifter that took Dean's shape. This is very meaningful bc both creatures decided to take the protagonists of this love story shapes.

So, the Empty explains where Castiel is, and also, is baffled by the angel that woke him up. Is the first time someone wakes up in the Empty, and the entity is really mad at it.

But Castiel doesn't know why he woke up, so, he went with the first idea: Maybe the Winchesters did some deal or spell. But they didn't.

The Empty represents all the darkness inside of Castiel: his doubts, his depression, his fears, his weakness. So, the only way to keep him there SLEEPING (as the image of depression) is to point at the lack of faith in coming back, or in feeling himself loved or needed.

The following dialogue shows us how smart is our angel.

CASTIEL: Having me awake causes you pain.

COSMIC ENTITY: If you can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. Yeah? And I like sleep. I need sleep.

CASTIEL: Then get rid of me.

COSMIC ENTITY: Oh, should I, should I?

CASTIEL: Send me back to Earth.

Castiel immediately detect the point of it, and tries to give a resolution for both of them.

COSMIC ENTITY: Or I throw you so deep into the Empty that you can’t bother me anymore, hmm?

CASTIEL: Except you know that won’t work, or you would’ve done it already.

COSMIC ENTITY: Pretty smart. Pretty smart, dummy.

CASTIEL: Send… Me… Back.

The first conclusion CAS arrives is by his side. The only way the Empty can get some peace is sending him back to Earth. What Cas doesn't know is, the empty won't come back to sleep, ever again after this.

COSMIC ENTITY: That’s not part of the deal. No, no. Besides, you don’t want to go back.

CASTIEL: Yes, I do. Sam and Dean need me.

COSMIC ENTITY: Oh, save it.

When the Empty says SAVE IT, is because he knows the excuse is making CAS to come back, is not the real one he has in his heart. Oh, save it is not because of that, is because ONE MAN NAMED DEAN WINCHESTER.

Because immediately after this, the Empty mocks him about it...

(Gif set credit @petercapaldi )

Look at Castiel's face when the Empty refers to his feelings as TULIPS, because the tulips represents the perfect lover, passion and romanticism. The tulip is a symbol of sincere love. It is an incredibly romantic flower that when giving it you express infatuation, passion, unconditional love, pure love.

So, the Empty is saying here: save it, you are in love, you want to come back because you are in love.

To the Empty, is very disgusting, aberrant, and it annoys him. He qualifies it as "little feelings"

Because he's trying to erase the hopes in Castiel. So, he shows him he knows everything about him, and if he didn't understand at first with the tulips reference, he makes it clear now I KNOW WHO YOU LOVE.

And seeding again the depression, because he needs CAS sleeping or defeated, he continues...

Unrequited Love. The Empty exposes right in front of Cas' eyes the fear of being unrequited. With this, he is trying to show him WHY WOULD YOU COME BACK IF DEAN DOESN'T LOVE YOU BACK? He needs to cut any hopes in the angel.

And after this, he shows CAS l his mistakes, and fears, and regrets, and guilts. All the bad things, all his darkness, to put him back to sleep.

But then, Castiel gets it, he is already saved. And with more energy and hopes inside his heart, he faces the empty again:

CASTIEL You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I’m awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for…ever. For eternity.

COSMIC ENTITY No. No.

CASTIEL Release me. Release… me.

Symbolism again! Castiel asking his own darkness and depression, and regrets to release him in that moment, he release himself from all of that and he returns stronger than never.

Lack of Faith

Back to Dean, Jack and Sam with the shape-shifters we can see another interesting visual element, next to Dean: Sunflower.

The sunflower is the symbol of the Sun and symbolizes love and admiration. But also happiness, vitality, positivity and energy. ... For some religions it is a symbol of the one who permanently seeks God, the divine, since the star king symbolizes God.

This could be linked to what Dean means to Cas, but I think is mostly what Cas means to Dean.

But jumping into the dialogues and the symbolism and parallel of having two Deans as we had two Cas, there's a little clue for a foreshadow...

Look at this, the scene is pretty blatant, we have Buddy, Mia's ex, obssesed with her, jealouse of her life, intertwined with the dialogue between Dean and Jack, showing how important Jack is.

So, Buddy is the Empty, Mia is Castiel. And the most important thing in there, is Jack... These are the ingredients and this is the dialogue...

BUDDY: I never stopped looking for you.

JACK: I can’t.

BUDDY: And when I found this place, when I saw all that…

DEAN: Yes, you can.

BUDDY: …warm, fuzzy good you were doing. I couldn’t let you have that.

Buddy is the Empty saying to Mia, CAS, that he will search for him in a future, and he will see his happiness, one of the most important persons to CAS is JACK, that's why the dialogues are mixed here.

DEAN: Sammy believes in you, and when he believes, he’ll go Hell for leather…

BUDDY:

So I took it all away, and it was fun.

DEAN …but you gotta try.

Again, the Empty mirror talking about taking all away from Mia, Castiel's mirror, and we have Dean talking to Jack. This is the foreshadow of 14x08, when the Empty will come for Jack in Heaven.

MIA You’re… you’re a…

BUDDY: What? A monster? Well, so are you. And it’s about time you embraced that. So I’m not gonna kill those boys. You are. You end them, or you die, courtesy of Tweedledee’s silver bullets. So what’s it gonna be, princess?

MIA: Shoot me. Shoot me!

And now we have Castiel's mirror giving her life in exchange for Dean and Jack. Just like CAS will do with his deal with the Empty in 14x08 and his ultimate Sacrifice in 15x18.

Now, the last scene. Sam is ready to move on from having faith but Dean will take the advice that Mia gave him. But in this attempt of stopping Sam from being like him, he will show again one of his deepest feelings...

(Gif set credit @aborddelimpala)

Dean had lost faith, hopes, because he lost Castiel. And Castiel represented all of that to him.

Sam is worried, and Dean just realized he said it. He had just showed his brother part of his depressive thoughts. And the sadness in his face is all over.

Miscellaneous: The address in Mia's office door was 219, this is a very interesting visual element, is a reference to episode 2x19, "Folsom Prison Blues", in which Sam and Dean were two prisoners, trying to show their innocence. Finally breaking free. As a foreshadow of the emotional prison we will see in Dean's possesion in episode 14x09.

To Conclude:

This episode is full of symbolism and is centered on Castiel and his storyline with the Empty.

The episode shows us too the pain carried by Dean, Jack and Sam in loosing the people they love and how each one of them walks through it in different ways.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from this season here you have the links:

Vol. XCIII, XCIV.

Buenos Aires, January 3rd 2021 6:46 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #Supernatural meta #season 13 meta #13x04 meta #Castiel #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Jack Kline

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ao3gingerswag · 3 years

Text

The Outside Chapter 14 Deleted Scene

This was one of many directions I took this scene that I ended up cutting. I liked this part, but it just went on and on and on and I couldn't wrap it up and also it was getting dangerously close to actually deep territory which I have sworn off for this verse!! This convo branches off from Cas apologizing for yelling at Sam, which is in the actual chapter.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Cas offers.

Sam snorts, like what Cas has said is funny.

“You sound like Dean,” he mutters.

Cas frowns in confusion.

Before this morning, he wouldn’t have been able to picture Dean yelling at anyone about anything.

Now…Well. Now he knows what it looks like when Dean yells, as much as he wishes he didn’t.

It’s still hard for him to imagine Dean getting shouting in any sort of regular circumstance, especially at Sam, who he’d clearly move heaven and earth for.

“Dean would yell at you?” he asks, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“No,” he mutters, sounding resentful. “He’d apologize. For just about any old thing.”

Oh.

That makes much more sense.

At least, it makes much more sense that Dean would be known for his habit of apologizing, rather than shouting.

It also...well, Cas supposes it also makes sense, that any random apology would remind Sam of Dean.

Not that it makes him happy, what that connection implies.

Because it was just an apology.

And most people don’t associate being apologized to with one single human being.

Has anyone else ever apologized to you, Sam? Or is Dean the only one?

He almost asks, out loud, but Sam’s scowl stops him.

He gets the feeling that if he asks that question, he’s going to get his head bitten off.

Instead, he tries a different angle.

“You know, it’s funny. Dean said I reminded him of you.”

It’s this, finally, that makes Sam look towards him.

“What?” he yelps, dumbstruck. Like he can barely process what Cas had just said.

It is indignation, that colors his expression, outrage, that blazes through his eyes.

He’s not just confused, at the comparison, not just irritated or annoyed.

He is offended. Truly offended, like he cannot believe Dean would say such a thing about him, like it is an affront to who he is as a person.

The force of his disgust is startling, and it does startle Cas as it comes.

And he expects hurt to rush in quickly after it, as it always does, when people make clear their revulsion.

But it doesn’t come, even as he waits, even as Sam splutters and turns red in anger.

It doesn’t come, though sadness does, in its place, as Sam’s next words fly angrily out.

“He did not say that. He did not. You and I are nothing alike!”

“He did say that,” Cas replies, quietly, because it is completely true.

Sam snarls, as if he is furious, but Cas is alarmed to see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“No he didn’t! He wouldn’t! I’m not always- I know I’m not always the nicest but I’ve never- He wouldn’t say that!”

Cas watches in morbid fascination as hurt sneaks out from behind the resentment.

“Sam,” he says, stunned. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t an insult.”

Sam glares at him with aching eyes.

The depth of the gulf between them becomes painfully clear.

He really thinks I’m a predator. He really thinks I’m a rapist.

He thinks he’s being accused of abuse. Because that’s all he sees in me.

“Sam,” he says, making an effort to sound gentle, like Dean. “Dean loves you very much.”

Sam scowls, and drops his eyes.

“I know,” he mutters, irritated.

“Do you?” Cas asks, and Sam huffs.

“Yes, I know, he loves fucking everyone. He loves me, he loves you, he loves my dad, he even loves fucking Alastair.”

“He does not love Alastair.”

“You don’t hear him. He’s always going on about how grateful he is, how thankful.”

The boy spits the word like it’s poison.

Cas has to admit, it hurts to hear.

He has to admit, he understands very well the subtext behind what Sam is saying.

Dean loves even people who take advantage of him.

He understands it because it’s what Cas used to think as well, and it hurts to hear his own thoughts repeated back to him.

How do I know that he loves me, when he doesn’t know what else to feel? How can I know I’m not a monster, when he loves monsters and angels the same?

It’s the thought that had haunted him since Dean had come into his life, had haunted him since he’d seen the devotion leaking out of those green eyes.

He sees it haunting Sam now too.

And he feels sorry for him, and sorry for himself as well, because they are both too stupid to understand the value of the gift they’ve been given.

“Sam,” he says quietly. “I know you don’t like me.”

Sam makes a sarcastic noise. Cas pretends not to hear it.

“I didn’t like you, either, before I had met you, when I only had Dean’s descriptions to go off of.”

That shuts Sam up, and Cas feels a little bad for misleading him.

“It’s not that he said anything bad,” Cas clarifies. “Actually, everything he said about you was wonderful, and made it clear how much he loves you. But I...didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust him. I know you know that Dean….doesn’t always have the best judgement, when it comes to how he should be treated.”

Sam doesn’t respond for a second, and Cas thinks he might be being ignored.

Eventually, though, Sam pulls his legs that had still been dangling off the cart up to his chest, and wraps his arms around them.

“Yeah,” he says at last, and it’s not sarcastic this time.

It’s vulnerable. It’s resigned.

Cas feels a pulse of sympathy.

Dean can’t have been an easy person to grow up with.

“Well, I knew that too. It was obvious, from the way he talked about the things that had happened to him, from the way he talked about people who’d hurt him. He was scared of Alastair, but didn’t understand how evil the man is. And he was scared of John...but I thought he loved John as well.”

Sam has rested his head on his knees, his face pointing Cas’s direction. He’s once again not looking at Cas, but it is obvious that he is listening.

“So when he started talking about you all the time...talking about how good you were to him, crying about how much he missed you…”

Cas sees Sam’s chin wobble.

“I thought. Well. I thought he was crazy. And I assumed, without even asking, that you were an adult. An adult who was manipulating Dean, and taking advantage of him, and hurting him. I thought of you the way you now think of me.”

He looks at Sam imploringly.

“I didn’t even consider that he might be right, that, that just because he’s been hurt doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t real. I didn’t even consider believing him. But I should have! I should have, and if I had, if I’d ever listened to him and talked to him instead of making my own assumptions, I would have realized you were a child! I would have realized you were a child, and would have told Dean we could come get you together, and we wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess at all!”

#ao3gingerswag #the outside #wander home deleted content #blechhhh today was a day

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

Text

The Playlist

Request: I have a request ♡ what if there is a scene in impala where the boys & y/n are tired after a hunt so for the first time y/n asks the boys to play her pop playlist. dean disagrees then they eventually agree. and the playlist can start with a recording tag says "for dean winchester, the love of my life" (y/n forgets to delete it) and then it plays tons of love songs (y/n is sleeping) AND THEN FLUFFY DEAN?????

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you like this!

Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 1460

❅ ❅ ❅

You were tired, scratched up and overall beyond exhausted when you got into the Impala after the gruelling hunt. You could barely keep your eyes open and It didn’t help that you had a long ride back home. You knew you’d have to listen to Dean’s obnoxious rock music on repeat which only added to your frustration. So you decided that just this once you’d find a way to get the boys to agree to your pop playlist. And should they refuse, you’d have to make a deal with Crowley to make sure they were damned for eternity.

As soon as you situated yourself in the back seat, Dean pulled onto the road, gunning it. He reached for his collection to pick an AC/DC song. You scoffed silently at that. How typical of him? The guy was so predictable. But that didn’t stop you from falling deeper in love with him each passing day. Even his predictability was absolutely endearing and that annoyed you further.

Before you could get lost in thoughts of the green eyed idiot in the front seat, you opened your backpack pulling out your pop playlist. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the upcoming argument.

“Um Dean?” You called tentatively.

“Hmm?” He looked at you through the rear view mirror.

“Can we please play my list just this once?”

“Absolutely not!” He said breaking the peace and making Sam, who was trying to sleep, jump out of his skin and cuss. “You know the rules, Y/N. Driver picks the music-“

“Shotgun shuts his cake hole. I know, Dean.” You interrupted. “But there is a flaw in that logic.” You smirked tiredly.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He was suspicious.

“I’m not sitting shotgun.” You smiled cheekily.

Sam snorted from the front seat, eyes still closed. “She’s got you there, Dean.”

Dean glared at Sam and looked a little taken aback by your logic.

“N-no, she hasn’t. Because I’m still not playing her stupid girly pop.” He scoffed.

Your exhaustion brought about your ugly side within mere seconds and a sharp pang of irritation coursed through you, making you whack his head. He yelled out and swerved the car in surprise.

“What was that for?!” He glared at you.

“I’m trying to sleep here.” Mumbled Sam grumpily, which was ignored.

You simply shrugged at Dean, looking out the window quite angry and extremely sleepy. You just wanted your music to calm down from the hunt, and it wasn’t like you ever asked him for anything. Why was this too much to ask?

He sighed looking at how exhausted you were and his eyes softened a little.

“Fine just this once I’ll let you play your list.” He mumbled clearly unhappy with the situation.

You handed him your list, too tired to say anything more, and curled up in the back, finally able to relax knowing that the sweet sound of pop will be lulling you to sleep combined with the soothing motion of the car.

There were very few times in your entire life when you could summon the ability to fall asleep within seconds and this was one of them. Adding your exhaustion and dazed state into the mix, you had completely forgotten that the play list you had chosen had incriminating content in it.

You didn’t realise it when the damn thing started off with your voice proclaiming your love for the one and only Dean Winchester.

“For Dean Winchester, who has been the love of my life and my hero for as long as I remember. I hope you never find this, baby.” Followed by a list of love songs that poured out your heart and soul for said man. You were also blissfully unaware of his reaction, the blush creeping down his neck and the loving and awed glances he threw your way as he drove you home.

Your ignorance of the whole situation saved you from being completely and utterly mortified in that moment, postponing it to a later time. And in your tuckered out state, you slept through the entire ordeal dreaming of your green eyed hunter.

____________

Hours later you were rudely woken by a slam of the car door. You noticed that you arrived home just before the sun set, and the boys were unloading the car. You got out to grab your stuff, only to have Dean grab them and wink at you before making his way inside. You were left behind in the garage confused at what had occurred. It wasn’t unusual for you to help each other out when the other was injured or in need of help. But when neither is the case, it was a little perplexing.

“You coming, Y/N?” Sam asked, startling you.

“Yeah” You mumbled following him inside.

You quickly made your way to your room, excited for a shower to remove the filth and dried up blood. When you were done and dried, you wrapped yourself in a towel and walked to your closet to pick out a pair of sweat pants and Dean’s t-shirt that you stole from him. But before you could get dressed, your door opened and Dean came in, stopping short at the sight of you.

“Dean!” You yelled, clutching the towel tighter to gather up what little modesty you could.

“Sorry! I didn’t realise you’d be, well naked.” He grinned sheepishly.

“What did you think I’d be doing after getting dirty, Dean?!”

“Well, for starters I’d rather you get dirty because of me.” His grin got brighter, as he got less and less sheepish.

You blinked at him taken aback by his sudden flirty behaviour. It wasn’t unusual for Dean to flirt. It did take up 70% of his personality. But it didn’t mean you’d ever get used to the damn butterflies that set camp in your stomach. But instead of succumbing to the swooning that your brainless heart was doing, you decided to scoff at him.

“You wish, Winchester.” You rolled your eyes. “Can you let me change if you’re done being a perv?”

“Right, yeah. I’m sorry” he genuinely smiled at you. “I’ll wait outside till you’re done.” He added and then shut the door quietly.

You shook your head at him, smiling softly at how adorably weird he was. If only he felt the same about you. You changed your clothes faster than usual, curiosity driving you, and you opened the door to let him in again. He smirked at your T-shirt, making you blush a little but nothing else was said about it.

“What’s up, Dean?” You asked sitting at the edge of the bed, him following your actions.

“I came to give you your play list back.” He handed it over.

“Really? This couldn’t wait? You had to sneak a peak in the process?” You gave him a bitch face.

He chuckled at that, “It really couldn’t have.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “why?”

“Caz I couldn’t wait to do this.” He said before grabbing your face and kissing you right on the lips.

If it weren’t for the wonderful functionality of the human body, you’d have thought your heart would race right off your chest. Your mind went blank and you had no idea what had gotten into him. It wasn’t unwelcome by any means, but an explanation or a warning would’ve been nice.

He pulled away from you and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, smiling softly as if that kiss set everything right in the world.

“W-what was that?” You finally managed to get yourself to work.

“What I should’ve done years ago.” He whispered his eyes never leaving yours.

“Why now, Dean?”

He smirked slightly, “Because I’m the love of your life and your hero.”

“What?” You looked at him confused.

“Your playlist had a little message for me.” He grinned.

The colour drained from your face as realisation hit you like a train. You were starting to panic.

“Oh no.. Dean. I-“

He kissed you again, shushing you. “You’re the love of my life and me hero too, Y/N”

“I am?”

He nodded at you, the smile not leaving his face for even a second. “I loved you since we were teenagers, baby.”

You were surprised at that. “Really? Well, I recorded that when we were 16.” You blushed.

Dean laughed at that and kissed your forehead. “To think we could’ve had all that time”

“I know right?” You laughed.

You squealed when you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed with Dean above you.

“No time to waste, Y/N. We have a lot of catching up to do.” He then kissed you passionately and this time you didn’t hold back one bit.

❅ ❅ ❅

TAGS BELOW

@hobby27 @akshi8278 @svmwinchesterr

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #spn x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #fluff

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deans-baby-momma · 3 years

Text

Wounded Hearts 2

Summary: When John Winchester leaves his two high school-aged sons in a motel in Fairfax, IN while he goes off on a hunt, they both make friends. What happens after they have to suddenly leave when John comes to fetch them. Will those friendships endure? Does Dean leave a piece of his soul behind?

Word Count: 3,408

A/N: This is a sequel to Past Haunts, but it’s mostly what happened in the thirteen years between high school and when Sam and Dean return to take care of a haunting in their old stomping grounds of Truman High. The first couple of chapters will be mainly Dean’s POV and then after that, each chapter will switch from Dean’s POV to Rebecca’s POV. I will label them appropriately.

Rebecca’s POV

The walk home is kind of uncomfortable. My crotch is sensitive and tender and these jeans are not helping at all. I think over what just happened. I just gave my virginity to Dean Winchester. The boy who came out of nowhere and walked the school halls like he owned the place. I briefly thought about how just last week he was all about Amanda Heckling, the popular girl, the head cheerleader. Had he fucked her too? They had seemed hot and heavy for a minute but then, just as quickly as he showed up, they were over and he was proclaiming to the halls that he was a hero. Had he taken Amanda's virginity too?

I shake my head and huff a laugh. No way was Amanda Heckerling a virgin. Not since freshman year at least. She had been caught with her pants down, literally, with Justin Scott in her bedroom. So, no Dean definitely hadn't taken Amanda's innocence.

As soon as I get home I rush to the bedroom to change out of my- now damp from the remnants of what had transpired between me and Dean- panties. Thankfully it's just my cum filling my underwear; Dean had wrapped it up before he fucked me.

I change quickly, wadding my ruined panties into a ball and stuffing them to the bottom of the hamper. My mom yells that dinner is ready and I pause, taking a breath and praying that neither she nor dad can sense the change in me. I'm no longer their innocent little girl but a woman, an adult capable of safely fornicating.

I can feel their stares, hear their whispers as I walk to my locker. Does everyone know? Are all my classmates aware that I am no longer pure and virginal Rebecca Quentin. Do they know that I oh so easily gave it up to Dean Winchester? Or am I just imagining it all?

I grab my books and sign in then take my regular seat in Mrs. Meadows' English Lit class. My heart is pounding in my ears, knowing that shortly Dean would walk through the door. Would he sit beside me, like he did Amanda? Would he ask me to be his girlfriend? I mean, we've already done the deed so that's the next step, right? Ok, so our steps are a little misconstrued but so what?

I hear him before I see him, his heavy army-style boots stomping down the hallway. As soon as he enters the room, my breath catches in my throat. I'd always thought Dean was good-looking but now? Damn is he sexy as hell! I can't help but turn away to hide the blush on my face as I remember his touch and how it felt to have him inside me. My heart drops as he passes by the empty desk beside me to take his seat at the back of the room. Dammit, maybe it wasn't as special to him as it had been to me. Maybe he was used to defiling girls and then acting as if they didn't exist. As Mrs. Meadows calls for attention I vow to confront him at lunch. Hopefully we can have a quiet discussion and not cause a scene.

By the time the bell rings for lunch, I am a nervous wreck. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to address the obvious elephant in the school. Dean Winchester conned his way into my pants; pretending to be a gentleman and noble when in all reality he was a fraud, a hustler. Watching him with his little brother yesterday, how he had made sure Sam was well-fed and taken care of had to have been a ruse! Just a way to get me to let my guard down and then he struck when that window of opportunity opened; like a snake, a conniving devious snake.

Deciding I can't civilly accost Dean, I make my way to the vending machines. I'll just go to the motel after school and talk to him then. I just hope he hasn't duped his next victim there. That's what I feel like; a victim, a casualty of the trickster that is Dean Winchester. I scan the lunchroom as I enter but see no sign of Dean or his brother Sam. I sigh in relief as I don't think I could handle being ignored again. I sit at a table in the corner and open my bags of chips.

The rest of my classes were dull and lackluster. I just couldn't concentrate on anything any of my teachers were saying. The concept that Dean was ignoring and avoiding me was breaking me, was breaking my heart and soul. I wanted to know why. Why did he choose me? Why did he have to defile what could have been an incredible friendship? Maybe even a wonderful and dare I say loving relationship. Did getting the privilege of saying he slept with me mean more to him than that? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got until I had furiously scribbled a hole into the paper on my desk. I was going to that motel after school and finding out!

When the last bell sounds, I gather my books and head to my locker. I look morosely at locker #214, the one Dean had been assigned. It was only a few down from mine. I hadn't seen him all day; not since he so openly ignored me during first period. It is painfully obvious he was avoiding me. Well I am going to put a stop to that. I march out of the building and head down the same path we had walked yesterday, straight to the place it all went downhill, room 7 at the Motel Monroe.

A few hours later

I knock on the door and wait. And the longer I wait, the more upset I get. How dare Dean ignore and avoid me and act like I don't exist in his world. Yesterday, he acted as if he made me believe he was interested in being my friend, if not more and today I'm nobody?

I'm not a nobody. I get perfect grades and in less than a year I will be moving away, going to college and in a few short years graduate with a master's in psychology and on my way to becoming one of the best behavioral counselors in the country. I have plans and dreams; I'm not just some girl to pass the time with.

After a few minutes and another knock, there is still no answer. I step to the window to see inside but the curtain is closed tight. 'Oh no you don't, Dean Winchester,' I think silently. 'You are not hiding from me. We are going to hash this out like adults.' I walked toward the manager's office to find out if there is a way to get him to open the door. Instead I find devastating news when the manager tells me, "They cleared out about 3 hours ago."

I walk away from the motel, the place I lost my virginity in with tears threatening to roll down my face. Will I ever see him again?

Eight weeks later

Time is a fickle thing. Some days it seems to rush by while others it seems to just stand still and turn stagnant.

After finding out that the Winchesters had left town, I turned my attention back to my studies. I only had a few more months until I'd be graduating high school and moving on to bigger, brighter things.

Thanksgiving had come and gone and now we are all hurtling toward Christmas and the almost two weeks off from school. The whole school is abuzz with excitement and enthusiasm for the break. Me? I am just going through the motions. I had gotten ill a few days ago, puking my guts up and just feeling horrible. Whatever it is, I wish it would just run its course already. I am tired of feeling weak and feeble.

Today is the school's last day before Christmas break and I was just looking forward to being able to lay around and let the flu or pneumonia or whatever gets its claws into me. Something grabs my attention and I look at the calendar hanging beside my desk. A big old red circle is around the 4th, the day I should've started my period. I grab the calendar and turn it back to November and see another big red circle. Two months. Two missed periods. And I know that they are missed because every time I start I always draw a line through the circle and these two circles have no lines. What the hell? I try to remember having my period in November but I am coming up blank. The last period I remember was in October, the first part of October. I remember because it was right after my Mom's birthday. I turn the page and yep, October 5th has a circle with a line through it. So why didn't I mark through November's and December's? I scan through the month of October and my eyes land on the 14th.

The day I spent with the Winchesters, the day I lost my virginity to Dean, the day that…..oh fuck. Oh god no!

At school, I can’t concentrate on anything. My calculus teacher calls on me and I don’t hear her. The words ‘I’m pregnant’ keep repeating over and over in my head. I can’t be pregnant. I only had sex once. But once is all it takes, I tell myself.

I get through the rest of the day, barely, and by the time the last bell rings I am a nervous wreck. I know what I need to do. I have to go to the pharmacy and buy a test. But everyone knows everyone in this town and I know old Mrs. Wilson will tell my parents that she sold me a pregnancy test.

Walking into the drugstore I am praying and hoping that Mrs. Wilson possibly has the day off and someone else is working her shift but no such luck. As soon as I walk in she sees me and smiles. I return the smile and walk down the farthest aisle from the one I need. As I trek slowly through the store, pretending that I am looking at different things, I come up with a plan. I’ll just take one off the shelves and ask to use the bathroom.

When I get to the correct aisle I feel overwhelmed. There are so many! Different brands, different processes. I find one that looks easy enough; what is more easier than just peeing on a stick? Stuffing the box in my bag, I head toward the front of the store, grabbing a package of maxi pads on my way.

“Hello Rebecca,” Mrs. Wilson greets me. “How are you today?”

“Hi Mrs. Wilson. I’m good. Listen, is there anyway I can, uh...use the facilities here?” I ask as I show her the maxi pads. She nods in understanding and points me toward the bathroom.

I quickly shut and lock the door and lean against it, taking a breath. ‘Come on Rebecca. You can do this.’ I think to myself. ‘It might even be negative. Could be something completely different wrong with me.’

I pull the box out of my bag and step toward the toilet. I know I don’t have that much time before Mrs. Wilson comes to check on me. Pulling the test out of the box, I quickly read the directions.

1. Pee on stick

2. Wait 5 minutes.

3. Two lines means pregnant; one line means not pregnant.

Ok simple enough. I do as instructed and place the stick on the sink. This is going to be the longest five minutes in history!

How can something so inconsequential as a piece of plastic change your whole life? Plastic is nothing but synthetic polymers that can be molded into whatever is needed. In this instance, this piece of plastic was sculpted into a thin white stick with a window on the end. And in that window was life-altering news. Two pink lines.

I stare at the test for what seemed like forever. I’m pregnant. I am only a few months away from turning 18, graduating high school and going off to college. Yet, here I am carrying Dean Winchester’s illegitimate child. I place my hand on my still flat stomach and look in the mirror. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper to my reflection. I didn’t even realize I am crying until I see the tears streaming down my face.

Hearing Mrs. Wilson heading my way, I hurry and wipe my face clean and pick up the positive test, sticking it in my pocket. I open the package of pads and take one out and cram the unused one into the bottom of the trash can. At least, that way it will look like I used one and not raise any suspicions with the old busybody.

After paying for the one item I won’t be needing for a while, I leave the store and head home. How am I going to tell my parents that I’m pregnant? Of course they're going to want to know everything. Well, maybe not everything. They know how babies are made, they have me after all. But they are going to ask a million questions. Who’s the father? Where is he now? Does he know? Is he going to be a man and step up? I only know the answer to one of those. Dean Winchester is the father. That’s all I know. He used me and then up and disappeared the very next day.

I get home and am relieved that both my parents aren’t home yet. I have a few more minutes to come to terms with the fact of my situation myself. I run upstairs to my room and fall onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. While I am alone, I decide to go ahead and get it out. The anger, the frustration, the heartache.

I am 17 years old, a senior in high school and pregnant by a boy who split in no time afterwards. The tears come instantaneously. How am I going to be able to fulfill my dream of going to college and becoming a psychologist? I can’t be raising a kid while going through years of study at Harvard to get my bachelor’s plus an internship. By the time I’d be done with all that my child is going to be at least 10 years old.

Damn him! Damn him and his boyish charms and his mesmerizing green eyes and his sexy as hell body.

“Damn you Dean Winchester! I hate you. I wish I’d never met you,” I scream into the fluffy cushion. “I hope wherever you are that your dick falls off and you can’t do this to some other poor girl!”

Fuck, is all I can think. How many girls had he done this to? How many illegitimate babies did he have? He had said his family traveled a lot so there were probably girls all over who were pregnant or had bared his offspring.

"Fuck," I sigh. "If I get an STD because of him I'll hunt him down and kill him," I growled. I begin punching the pillow, pretending it is Dean’s face. I can’t believe him. How dare he take advantage of me like that!

But then I realize, he didn’t take advantage; I clearly gave him exactly what he wanted. ‘Dumbass! I am such a dumbass. I walked right into his trap and didn’t even understand what I was getting into. I was so dumbfounded and surprised that he wanted to talk to and hang out with me that I just followed him along like a lost puppy. And then I gave him the one thing that I could never get back. All because of a few words and some attention. How much of an idiot am I?’

Shaking my head at my stupidity I head to the bathroom to clean off my face and get prepared to confess to my parents. They are going to be so disappointed in me. It’s going to break their hearts. I’ve been talking about going to Harvard and becoming a psychologist since I was in middle school and now that is just a pipe dream. It won’t ever come true now.

I don’t have much of an appetite so I just push my food around on my plate. I feel bad about it because Mom had rushed home from work and went straight to cooking and now my stomach is all twisted up and I can’t eat. It looks like they are about to be finished with their dinner so I decided no better time than the present.

“Mom? Dad?” I begin. “We need to talk.”

“What is it sweetie?” My dad says as he gets up to put his plate in the sink. “Did you get a C in class or something?” he turns back to the table with a jesting grin on his face. “You know you don’t have to be completely perfect in everything.”

Mom and Dad have been telling me for years that I was pushing myself too hard. That it doesn't matter to them if I get straight A’s or not as long as I don’t fail. But I wanted to prove to them, and myself, that I could. And so far I had; I am only a few credits shy of graduating high school with honors.

“Oh, I’m not perfect,” I tell him, looking down at my hands in my lap. “Far from it actually. I-uh-I have some not so good news. You might even call it upsetting news.”

My parents both look at me, perplexed. Mom speaks up first, “What is it Rebecca? Are you dying? Do you have cancer or something?”

Leave it up to Mom to think about a worse-case scenerio. Of course in her mind, the most distressing would be that I only had a few months to live. Which, in this case, it’s kinda true. A few more months and life as I know it is over.

I pull the positive pregnancy test out of my hoodie pocket and lay it in the middle of the table. Clear as day, anyone can see what it is. My dad suddenly sits down and puts his head in his hands and Mom…well, Mom stands up, looks at me with pity and walks out of the dining room. A few minutes later, I hear their bedroom door slam shut.

The commotion brings Dad out of his stupor and he looks up at me. “How did this happen, Rebecca?” I quirk an eyebrow at him at the absurdity of his question. “I mean, I know how it happened. When?”

“Back in October. I hung out with this guy and his little brother and we watched a movie and ate pizza and popcorn. After the movie was over, his brother wanted to go to the arcade and it left me and Dean in the room, alone. One thing just led to another.” I finish with a shrug of my shoulders.

And just like I assumed, Dad begins badgering me with questions. “Who is he? Does he know about the baby yet? Is he going to step up and take care of it and you?”

I sigh before I answer. “His name is Dean. Dean Winchester. No, he doesn’t know and probably never will. He and his brother were staying in the motel across town while their dad was working. He’s gone now. Left the day after. I don’t know how to get in touch with him.”

Dad and I sat there in silence after I told him about Dean and how he was no longer around. I can see the steps of processing Dad is going through on his face. At first he is angry, livid even. Then he is just mad. But what breaks my heart is when my dad looks at me and all I can see is disappointment.

I feel like such a failure. I failed my parents and myself the moment I allowed Dean to come into my life. The moment I had sex with him.

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

#dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #wounded hearts #past haunts sequel #rebecca quentin #smut #fluff #angst #dean x becka #high school

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Note

hey if it's not too much difficulty you're the only person i trust with this so would you mind writing me a super angsty fic based on 15x09 Dean burying MOC!Cas in a Ma'lak box?

Of course I don’t mind. It came out angsty, alright. Tell me what you think, Dean. Here you go:

***

Dean remembers how it used to be.

He remembers the warmth enveloping all of him, and the room imploding with such power that glass shatters, and the wind roars. The sky gets dark, but the seraph brings forth his wings and lights up the world, for a second right there - like a star in its death; a star breathing its last.

Squinting, cowering and incredibly alive, Dean’s been a witness to the all-powerful grace of the angel of the lord, before.

All of those times, he’s been terrified - yes, but never afraid. When Castiel had declared he could throw Dean back to Hell, that night, Dean didn’t doubt it. Of course he could. But he wouldn’t. For some strange reason, still undeciphered, he’d never meant to hurt Dean.

There was something in the air, whenever they were together. Respect, and a sliver of misplaced faith. Reassurance. A tug at his chest which just screamed Safe. Strength, from Cas’s end - and love.

He remembers how Castiel used to make him feel.

“There’s no other way.” Sam lets out, head bowed, in a voice more miserable than his stare focused on the book suggests. The lights in the bunker are dim; it’s just a little past midnight, and Dean has his head in his hands.

“Sam, we can’t -”

“I know.” He sounds like he’s trying to scrape the bottom of his soul-shaped barrel for the courage to say it out loud - hoping that’ll make it easier. “But we have to do something, Dean.”

There’s silence.

“I don’t care.” Dean mutters, but everything except his words claims that he does.

Sam knows he does.

“Nobody else’s around.” He says, instead. “No God, or hell, gods. No angel or reaper will help us with this.” He breathes in shakily. “They’re all afraid of him.”

He’s a Seraph of Heaven carrying the Mark of Cain. An Angel of the Lord, now claimed by Hell. Of course, everybody’s terrified, and rightly so.

There’s probably no one in their world right now, who’s stronger.

“But the Ma'lak box?” Dean cries out, lifting his head. Sam meets his eyes, looking pained. “Locked away in a living grave, for eternity?” Neither of them blink. “It’s Cas, Sammy! We can’t just -” His voice breaks mid-sentence, lips pursed and twisted to a side, eyes screwed shut. He takes in a breath, with some effort.

Sam waits. His brother clearly isn’t done yet.

Finally, Dean exhales - with a shudder. “Why does it have to be me?”

Sam’s face contorts in sympathy, and anguish. In a hoarse, earnest whisper, he answers Dean’s question as truthfully as he could ever.

“Because it’s him.”

Dean remembers the first time he saw Castiel, after he ran away from home.

They hadn’t needed a tip, so much as a peek at the internet to come to know of a pissed-off-looking middle-aged man was singlehandedly finishing off the members of a now-uncovered human-sacrificial cult.

And he wore a trenchcoat.

Sam and he were on the road, in minutes. All through the drive, his heart thudded in his chest - hoping, begging, praying that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

It had turned out worse.

When Sam set off for the police station, hurrying into a disguise, Dean started scoping out churches and barns. And sure enough, he found Castiel - and the twelve dead men, with their eyes scorched out of gaping, black sockets.

The air was still seething with remnants of a smiting - but the heat wasn’t the kind which used to gloved him whole, and render awestruck. Instead, it wanted to melt the skin off of his bones, and make him want to tear out his insides.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel slowly turned towards him. The wind howled, and the barn was slowly falling to pieces. Dean’s world, and his heart with it, was falling apart. This wasn’t the Cas he knew - not with the empty blue eyes, and a blank thin-lipped smile.

When Castiel’s eyes met his - it was nothing like before. Fear thrummed in his veins - and his neck felt constricted. Dean wondered if that had something to do with Cas, as he involuntarily backed a step.

Every fibre of his being had begged him to run.

“What if the box can’t contain him?”

Dean drags himself to Sam, doubt weighing on his shoulders, and lands in the kitchen chair opposite his brother’s.

“I did think about that.” Sam confesses, frowning. “But do you really think he’ll try to get out?”

Dean stops.

Cas might not try to get out.

Maybe he won’t fight it. Maybe he won’t even try to get back to Dean -

He scrubs his face with a hand. After all the hours Dean’s spent, beating himself up over it, there’s a real chance that Cas wouldn’t be against the idea of being locked away by eternity as much as he’s being.

It’s a sadder thought than many.

“Dean?” Sam calls, uncertainly.

“Y-yeah.” Dean gathers himself in his head, returning to the present. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying,” Sam restarts, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes concerned. Dean hates that look on his brother’s face. “That’s half of the reason that the plan’s to drop the box in the Pacific.” Sam rambles on, not realizing the change of colors on Dean’s face. “I mean, Cas is an angel too; we know for sure he won’t drown, but I’m guessing it’ll hold his powers back -”

“The box isn’t going anywhere.” Dean declares, cutting him off. The glare in his eyes is definite. “No oceans, no nothing.”

“You want it to stay here?” Sam straightens, clearly taken aback.

Dean has no idea why. “I want him to stay here.” Sam opens his mouth in protest, albeit it’s a decidedly weak attempt, but Dean interrupts again. “This isn’t open for debate, Sammy.”

Sam shifts in his seat, not resigned to the idea of arguing, but trying to convince himself. “I suppose we could construct a permanent ring of holy oil in the dungeon, or -”

“Okay.” Dean lets out a breath he doesn’t know when he started to hold. “Yeah, good. See? We’ll figure something out. We’ll do that.”

An uncomfortable silence ensues, which irritates him because Sam still seems to be deep in thought. He doesn’t blame him - the underwater-forever idea had been his own, but that was Michael - and Dean. This is Cas.

He tries to speed up Sam’s processing of the new plan. “I’ll put up containment sigils. I’ll even read the containment-sigil book, Sam, I -”

“Dean.” Sam blinks at him. “Aside from that, how can we be sure that we won’t go get him out if he calls? Will you be able to ignore it if he cries out for help, since he’s right here?”

Dean knows Sam’s trying to go for a general ‘you’, but that feels extremely pointed at him.

If he calls out for help - if he as much as says my name, I’ll go to him.

Sam’s patient, as a rule, when it comes to Dean these days - but even his cool is running thin. His point makes more and more sense, as seconds pass, and before it can get too final, Dean knows he has to interject.

“If that happens?” Dean clenches his jaw, stubbornly. “Then so be it.”

Sam leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes. But under his breath, just barely loud enough, he says, “Fine. So be it.”

Dean remembers the last time he saw Castiel’s wings.

They were looking for him, and it wasn’t hard. When the aliases couldn’t help any further, the atrocious skies led the way to him.

Dean had guessed that the Mark would have been replenishing his grace, but bringing back his wings? He’d had no idea - right up until he and Sam stumbled onto a scene of impending crime and witnessed it themselves - for the grand display always preceded the blast of grace; Castiel’s apparent go-to move.

“Down!” Sam yelled, pushing Dean down with a hand on his back, as he too fell to the ground. “Close your eyes!”

Dean did - but before that, he looked.

They were huge, no longer sparse - and nothing less than magnificent. When Castiel glowered at the evildoers, the shadowed feathers flexed, and threatened as well. When he pulled himself to his full height, they arched, glorious and full of life - creating a perfect sight. Castiel was the embodiment of powerful, and his black wings, overpowering devices of conquer. In that moment, it felt ridiculous to ever have doubted Castiel could fly - his wings mighty, boundless and free.

And Dean Winchester was set out to convince him, to trap himself in a box.

Dean doesn’t know where he finds the courage to step ahead - but he associates it mostly with Sam moving forwards, because he’s immediately pushing him back and walking himself.

Castiel looks at him, just fucking looks at him. “Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean clears his throat, and keeps on walking until his feet carry him - ending up inches away from the angel. “Uh -”

He hesitates.

“The last time,” Castiel fills the silence, speaking in a disappointed tone. “You left, Dean. I wondered for ages why you didn’t talk to me.”

“Well, we need to talk, alright.” Dean swallows, trying to avoid Castiel’s eyes. “Cas, uh. Can we talk?”

“Of course.”

That’s all the warning he gets, before he feels his eyes close like he’s feeling himself blink and when he opens his eyes, they’re no longer in the abandoned shack with his brother on the sidelines, or the bodies.

The first thought that comes to Dean’s head isn’t fear, since now he’s just by himself - and he’s grateful for that. But it is concern for his own stomach, though he thinks he feel alright despite the being zapped.

Castiel is sitting, with his arms folded on the table, on a red seat. In front of him is an unimportant Biggerson’s menu. Dean’s still standing in the same stance as before.

“Sit down.” Castiel suggests, and he does.

“Cas.” Dean lets out, putting his own elbows on the table as well. “I need to -” He stops, and exhales frustratedly.

He’s planned this out. He knows what he’s going to say; he’s practised this in front of the mirror - Hell, he’s practised this with Sam. He should at least be saying words that aren’t Cas.

“What is it?” The angel frowns - and he still doesn’t feel like himself to Dean, but at least now he looks like it. The squint, the pursed lips, the jutted out chin.

He looks so much like Cas, that it hurts even as Dean forces the words - any words he finds in himself, to come out.

“There’s no other way,” Dean blurts, in his brother’s words, and as the words sink in, Castiel’s brow clears. As Dean’s head hurts - Castiel smiles smally at him.

“I was wondering when you’d ask.” The smile spreads on the angel’s face, divine.

“You what?”

“I knew this would happen, Dean. You have something that’ll rid the World of me - it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the fact that there’s nothing else you can do, but use it.” Castiel answers, and there’s a tinge of sadness in his voice Dean hates. But his tone is detached.

Dean clears his throat again. “There isn’t.”

Tell me you want us to keep looking.

“Tell me.” As Dean’s tongue battles to get the truth out with his mind, Castiel takes off on a tangent. “How many have I killed?”

“Low hundreds.”

“And that’s just the people.” Castiel shakes his head sadly, looking so dejected that Dean wishes he can put an arm around him. Of course, he’s too far away, and probably doesn’t want that.

“Cas -” Dean tries, but Castiel cuts him off.

“Does it help that they’d all done very wrong things?” Castiel asks, a little hope in his eyes.

Dean hates himself. “It always starts off like that, buddy. I wasn’t killing innocent people either, but -”

“I know.”

There’s a pause - a heavy one, and at least the words were in his mouth before. Now they don’t make it out of his heart. And Castiel’s painfully quiet - looking thoughtful.

“I’m sorry I let you take the Mark.” Dean crumbles, finally, putting his hand on Castiel’s - because it’s right there, just right there.

“There wasn’t a choice.” Castiel sighs, and looks down at their hands. Dean wonders if he wants him to undo that reckless, impatient move - he’s already regretting it. Castiel’s hand is warm under his, and only serves to remind him of his wrath from before, and the searing heat.

This looks like Cas and sounds like Cas, but he’s not completely Cas.

Or even if he were now - sated, after the killings, as Dean remembers being - he isn’t always going to remain like his pensive, understanding friend. Dean knows he should make use of this window, but he just can’t do it.

So Castiel, like all the other times, sprinkled across their life together, helps. “And just so, there isn’t a choice now.”

Dean stares at him.

“So, alright.” Castiel declares, steady of manner. “You win. I’ll go into the Ma'lak box, Dean.”

Dean’s never lost more.

Fight this, Cas! We won’t push you if you resist this - we’d never force you in the box, so tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you wouldn’t leave me.

Tell me to go away - fuck off and leave you alone.

“Take me with you.” Cas stands up, blankly, and decides to proclaim. And all of Dean’s most obscure hopes drift away, as he struggles to even plaster the false grin on his face.

“After you, feathers.”

Dean remembers the day Castiel got into the goddamn box.

Nothing mattered, as he stared at a wooden-faced Castiel hug Sam, except for the fact that he was next, and this was it. This was the last time he’d get to be this close to Castiel - ever.

When he pulled away from Sam, Dean noticed he sported a twitchy, nervous smile. Kid was trying not to break down - and that was brave, because Dean had given up.

“I - fuck, Cas. I’m sorry.” Tears pricked his eyes, as Castiel draped himself over him, arms crossed around Dean’s shoulders. Dean’s hands lay still on his back - holding him there. “Sorry.” He choked, closing his eyes and holding on.

Castiel clung on too, though not uttering a word. For him, this was the last touch he’d get - from Dean, from anyone, until the end of time. The thought seemed to strike him hard, and he held on tighter.

Dean, in return, pulled him closer.

He could feel Castiel’s heart beat - and he could feel his grace right there. He couldn’t feel a trace of the darkness of the Mark, and for the millionth time, he argued in his head that they were making a mistake.

“It’s risky keeping me out.” Cas muttered, pulling away, somehow knowing exactly what Dean needed to hear. He always did.

“You’re going in willingly, for the good of the world. For it’s safety or whatever.” Dean threw back. “The Mark’s clearly not gotten to you that bad. Maybe it never -”

“No, Dean.” Castiel shook his head, and a tear fell from his left eye. Dean’s brain stuttered into the realization that Cas, in spite of all his pretense, wasn’t doing this willingly. And then he made it even clearer.

He stared into Dean’s eyes - and for the last time, Dean fixed his own stare on those unbelievably blue eyes, blinking through the tears. And then, not looking away for a single moment, Cas confessed.

“I’m doing this for you.”

Don’t.

Please.

Dean’s mouth fell open, but he had no words.

Castiel didn’t wait for any, either. He stepped back from Dean, for good - for he’d never be in Dean’s personal space like that, crowding up against him like he always did - and glanced at Sam. And then again at Dean.

“It’s been a privilege to be family, Winchesters.” He utters, slowly, grandly - and Sam lets out an injured sound. Tears are streaming down Dean’s face now.

And with that, he turned to his eternal prison. Sam shuffled forward to give him a hand - now crying silent tears as well - and Castiel lay down inside.

Dean scrambled ahead, gripping the edges of the box. There was so much left to say. There was so much left to clear, and clarify, and reason through and object to - but Castiel would not return.

Cas would never return.

“Goodbye Sam. Goodbye, Dean.”

The lid fell.

The first few days were the hardest. Dean would wander around the bunker, feeling nothing but loss, grieving into expensive bottles of Men-Of-Letters whiskey and cheap glasses of rundown beer.

Then, one evening, there’s a knock on his door. Dean alerts immediately - eyes darting around, before he realizes where the sound came from. Instantly, his heart sings in a harsh, disdainful key of hope, and he pays attention.

“Dean?”

It’s Sam.

“Uh-huh?” He grunts back, failing to keep the unjustified disappointment out of his voice.

“I’m coming in.” Sam declares, and he does. He finds his brother buried on the right side of the bed, bottle in hand, and more of them around. Sam scrunches his nose in disapproval. “Dude.” He starts, only a hint of humor in his tone. “Your room stinks.”

“Your face stinks.” Dean returns, eloquently, and Sam lets out a breath shortly.

“No, I meant it like - your room smells.”

“Your face -”

“Shut up, jerk.” Sam chastises, cutting him off. “I, uh.” The impatience fades to worry, within moments. “I’ve been thinking, Dean.”

Dean keeps quiet, though he could easily have pointed out that his face has been thinking.

“We should start hunting again.” Sam finishes, sounding like he’s run these words over in his head a lot.

“What?” Dean sits up.

“You know, like we always did. Salt and burns at the start, maybe. We work our way to full-fledged hubs or nests again.” Sam explains, earnestly. “We’re hunters, Dean. And it’ll only do us good.”

Dean wonders how long he can hold in the prize question, but then gives up. “And you just want to leave Cas here?”

“Hey, it was your idea to keep him in the bunker.” Sam defends. “And I’m all for it now, but did you assume we’d never go out again?”

“Hunting’s different, Sammy.” Dean sighs, because of course Sam doesn’t get it. “What if - I mean, what if we don’t make it? Who tells Cas?”

Sam nets his eyebrows together in a frown. “Worst case scenario, he understands when we stop showing up.” He suggests, looking a little unconvinced himself, but Dean swears out loud, startling him mid-sentence.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He glares, standing up - or trying to. He feels a rush of dizziness hit him, and falls back to sitting position.

“So,” Sam frowns. “You haven’t been talking to him?” He looks genuinely confused, and Dean doesn’t know if he wants to clock him one, or hug him.

“I -” Dean’s positively aghast, and completely speechless.

Sam waits for his senses to return, arms folded across his chest.

“No!”

Dean remembers the day he moved a kitchen chair to the dungeon.

Longer talks, he reasoned.

It had been hard for him to listen to Cas’s replies from outside the ring of oil, so now he sits right next to him. Every night, he drags the chair past the ring, and settles next to where Cas’s head must be.

And every morning, he returns it to where it was.

They talk about useless things, in the beginning. It’s easier. Dean describes dinner once, and proceeds to thoughtlessly tell Cas that he’d be proud of Dean if he just tasted the burger. There’s a pause, and then Castiel answers that he’s sure he would, he doesn’t even need to taste it - and everything returns to normal.

Then, unspeakably, they move towards heavier topics. Dean tells Cas about hunts. In a reassuring way, it feels like the past. Cas asks questions and manages to make him feel heard, even through a wooden box with a breathe-hole in it - but Dean tries not to think about that bit.

There’s always a lot to think about, when Cas is involved, so it works out.

One time, after a particularly long hunt, Dean returns home to Cas. Even though he calls for him, loud, Cas doesn’t respond. With each passing moment, Dean worries more.

Finally, in a whim of panic, he raps his knuckles on the lid.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice rumbles through then, deep as always, but roughened with what Dean’s first guess is, sleep. “Sam?”

“You got it right in one.” Dean relaxes a little, but remains mostly tensed because Cas isn’t even supposed to sleep. “What have you been doing, Cas?”

“I’ve been asleep.” His voice sounds heavy. “I’m tired, Dean.”

“Tired?” Dean repeats, surprised.

“I can’t come up with more words for this feeling, so yeah. I’m tired.” Cas lets out, breathy and broken - and Dean wants to unlatch the box and wrap his arms around Cas and tell him it’s okay.

But he can’t, so instead he listens to Cas telling him about his life - all of those billions of years he’s lived, and never gotten to talk about.

Cas talks about his garrison, and their battles, and his brothers and sisters. He talks about archangels and demons and Hell and the Cage and Lucifer and God.

When he talks about the Mark, there’s a shiver down Dean’s spine. He talks about the exhausting thirst for violence, and unsuppressible hunger for killing - and he talks like he’s scared of it, and Dean hangs onto every word.

“Sometimes it gets so overpowering,” Castiel admits, quietly. “And this box so ridiculously limiting, that I must claw at my own hands so my fingertips at least touch blood.”

“Cas!” Dean cries out, shocked. Cas hurts himself in there? The thought’s so disturbing, Dean’s head reels. “You can’t -”

“It’s the only way I can keep myself under control.” Cas states, complacently. And his detached tone just further provokes the bile rising in Dean’s gut - at the idea of Castiel making himself bleed so he doesn’t try to break out of the box. “Don’t forget, I can heal myself too.”

Dean puts his hand on the box, still shivering.

“Since I’ll never have any use for it again,” Cas adds, dryly. “I might as well use up my grace doing this.”

He puts his forehead on it too.

“Maybe then I could die.”

He knows Cas can hear him breathe like this - which is the only way he can tell that Dean’s there, because he doesn’t have anything else in himself that night. He feels empty and awful and guilty.

When he sleeps, he sees Castiel inside the Ma'lak Box, burying his fingernails in his sides and tearing himself apart, to quench the horrific bloodlust the Mark causes.

He wakes up to Castiel snoring softly, and almost loses it all over again.

To be fair, things are better than what he’d imagined, because he gets to actually speak with Cas. Be it about Jack, from before, or Claire - Cas thinks about the kids a lot these days - or about millenia-old battles he lead, or week-old skirmishes Dean was involved in, at least they’re talking.

But ironically, it’s still too good to be true.

As the nights pass by, Cas gets more withdrawn. It’s not just the sleep in his voice - it’s the way he speaks. Like it hurts him to. Like everything hurts, and Dean knows how that feels, because he’s been there; he knows how it feels when the Mark takes over, slow but unpreventable, despite your better judgement - which dulls too, by the day.

Dean can feel Cas go through it all - try to suppress the constant anger, the need for action, and urges to harm. He wants to believe that his being there helps, his checking-in matters, but he knows he had had people who’d have listened to him too.

Because he hadn’t been in a goddamn box, in the first place.

One night, Dean tells Sam to get his overworked ass to bed because it’s been a long fucking hunt, and trudges along to the dungeon.

There’s an eerie kind of quiet, but Dean forgets his worries when he’s coming to Cas. He just carries them on his back when he’s going back.

At the scrape of the legs of Dean’s chair against the floor, Cas breaks down.

“I’m lonely.”

It’s a couple of fairly simple, untwisted words - but Cas sounds so pathetic and frightened and devastated, that Dean’s stomach falls to the ground.

“I’m so lonely, Dean.” Cas repeats, and he sounds like he’s crying silently.

Dean’s heart breaks in a million pieces and he hopes they seep in through the horrible fucking lid of his own creation, this Ma'lak box, so that Cas knows.

In a wrecked voice, he pushes out. “Cas, I’m right here.”

There’s a sound - a thud of something falling inside the box, and it feels like Castiel’s hand. Which means he’d been trying to push the lid before, and Dean has no idea what that means.

Get me out.

“You won’t always be,” Cas cries out.

They’ve talked about this before.

“I know you think that cause I’m a hunter - and cause I’ve always been, I’m going to keep running after these monsters forever. But I’m not.” Dean forces out, closing his eyes because this is hard enough without him having to address the angel’s grave. “I swear, I’m going to take this up with Sammy soon - it’s just been a lot of hunts lately. I just want to be done, for fuck’s sake. I want it all to stop. Cas, I want to be here.”

Cas doesn’t say a thing.

Dean braves on, his voice shaking shamefully with promises. “And after I’ve quit, trust me, I’ll be around so much more - don’t you dare tell me to get a life after, because -”

You’re it.

You’re my life.

“I wasn’t talking about that.” Cas says, painfully, and Dean freezes. “I’m immortal - every day should be a blink of an eye for me, though it isn’t because I’m weak and too attached.” Dean wants to protest, but Cas doesn’t give him a chance. “But you’re human, Dean. You won’t live, with me or without, forever.”

Time stops.

And it’s a goddamn good thing it does, because Cas just reminded him he’s dying, and it feels like it’s happening already.

It’s happening right here.

“Cas, I -”

There’s a thudding sound again, accompanied by a breathless sob from within which pierces through Dean, impaling him with guilt. His own tears start to fall.

“No, Dean. What will I do?” Cas keeps going. “What about me after you’re gone?”

Dean wakes up, sweating.

It’s three am.

He grunts, getting out of bed, and travels to the door on socked feet. The cold seems to completely disregard the woollen socks, and shoots straight to his head - weirder still, because he basically sweated himself awake, a minute ago.

Dean slowly moves to the kitchen, and pulls a beer from the fridge. His mind lands inevitably on Castiel.

He’d started visiting less after that night - for it’d more or less been an instruction for him, to stop. Didn’t Cas call it getting attached? And it makes sense too. If he spends the next - what, twenty years or so, next to Cas, he’d just be getting him up before the fall.

Because of course he’d be gone, and of course Cas would not, and of course it made perfect sense to visit Cas less until it started feeling off and they didn’t have things to talk about and then he visited even less, and now of course it’s been weeks that he’s not been there, with him, at the one place it all felt okay, and of course -

Dean’s crying into a bottle, at three in the night.

Everything hurts - every angle of this mishappening, but what’s overpowering most of the time is how much he misses his best friend, and his angel, and the love of his life, and Cas. All of him.

There’s too many tears clouding his vision, so he closes his eyes.

He’s lost Cas before - but it’s never been like this. He’s never felt so directly causatory, and fuck that feeling which shatters him inside - he’s the reason Cas took on the Mark, and he’s the reason Cas got in the box.

He’s the entire fucking reason Cas suffers, every time, and he’s the reason Cas was crying that day.

And yet - Dean can’t hold back the loud gasp, as he inhales forcefully - yet, more than guilty, as be should, he feels lost.

Because he’s not just lost somebody. He’s lost something he believes in, and the destination of all his prayers.

He’s lost his faith.

And for the first time in a very long time, Dean feels utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Sam’s woken by the sounds in the kitchen, and a foreboding of something awful tugging at his soul - and he dashes out of bed to see what’s wrong.

Immediately, when he sees Dean on the floor, shivering and breathing erratically through uncontrollable sobs, he wraps his his shirt around him and pulls him up on the first stool he finds.

“He’s not okay, Sammy!” Dean whimpers, clutching onto the shirt. Sam’s trying not to freak out himself, because it’s been a while since Dean’s had such a bad panic attack. “I can feel it - Cas is hurting -”

“Dean,” Sam pleads. “Stop thinking about him for a moment. Stop thinking about -”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Dean lets out, anguished. “When I had the Mark, Cas promised that after all that I’d do, after everyone that I’d kill, he’d still be there. He swore he’d always be there - but I cannot even say the same, and -”

“Calm down, Dean!” Sam repeats, anxiously. His brother doesn’t seem to be doing any better. “Just, please, don’t think -”

“You know I can’t stop thinking about him!” Dean throws back, frustratedly. “I need to - fuck, I need him, and I -”

Sam takes Dean’s hand in his, to stop Dean from rambling, and stares him straight in his eyes. “Do you want me to remind you that he can probably hear you right now?”

Dean shortcircuits for a second time.

Of course, Cas was an angel. Was Dean thinking about this, and thinking out loud, all going to make Cas hurt more? Was Dean adding to his pain and suffering again by -

“No.” Sam interjects, sounding sure. He’s always somehow been able to know exactly where Dean’s head’s at, in situations like this. “But I guarantee, he wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself like this.”

“Sam, I -”

“It’s okay.” Sam cuts him off, and helps hoist Dean up to his feet. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You’re putting the beer away right now, and going back to sleep.”

Once he’s steadier, Dean immediately pulls his brother in for a hug, grabbing the back of his neck. There’s no words for how grateful he is for him. But even more so, he needs to confess something - for both their sakes.

“I want to start hunting again, Sammy.”

Because if he’s not ending up next to Cas, if he isn’t getting his happy ending or peace, why would he hang the gloves up? Screw tired - he’s going to hunt to his last breath.

Fuck quitting.

And Sam smiles back - knowing it’s probably going to take more convincing in the morning, but Dean’s in again. Like Sam, he’ll keep on hunting until he can’t - take down every monster before it, even though God’s gone and it keeps feeling like they can’t win.

They have to keep trying - because now there’s nothing for either of them to come back to.

“Well, so be it.”

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simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Another Day on the Job

Summary: You hunt with the Winchesters, while dating the older brother. When you get another werewolf case, it seems like it will be just another day hunting. But what if it turns out to be a literal nightmare?

Warnings: fluff, werewolves, angst, character’s death, swearing

Pairing: Dean Winchester x huntress!Reader

Word Count: 2077

A/N: This story has been requested by the special @flamencodiva. Hopefully this story is something you guys will enjoy, despite the angst, or maybe because of it? ;) . Let me know what you guys thought :) xx Full request: May I request A Dean Winchester x Reader where the reader dives in front of him to protect him from a monsters attack?

Dean Winchester Masterlist __ Masterlist

Dean looked around him and saw a familiar surrounding. A crappy motel room, with two queen-sized beds, faded yellow-green wallpaper with what probably used to be a floral design, one old and a shabby table with two different chairs sitting opposite each other, and a door ajar to the bathroom, which looked more like a scene from a shitty horror movie than anything else.

He sat up on the bed, and looked towards the table where you and Sam were sitting, both on your notebooks, clicking furiously, trying to find what killed those two couples.

Dean knew what killed them, it was fairly evident from the way the victims were mutilated, but the two of you just wanted to be 100% sure before you went on a hunt.

He slumped back on the bed and put his arms behind his head, just watching you work. He was fairly sure that if you saw him awake, you’d be pissed at him for not helping the two of you, but he really couldn’t be less bothered. It was a werewolf or a pack of them, and all you had to do was to take your silver bullets and get hunting.

You scrunched your nose at something you were reading, and Dean had to smile. He loved those little wrinkles around your eyes and nose from your grimaces. You always complained about them, but to Dean, there wasn’t a single thing he would change on you. You were perfect just the way you were.

From the way, your hair was all over the place when you woke up because you turned left and right the whole night, or the way you snorted when Dean said something really funny or stupid, he loved it all.

He was quite sure he was daydreaming when he heard a cough from the table, and when he looked back at you, he saw you staring at him with your brow raised. He smiled apologetically and got up to kiss your forehead, which made Sam roll his eyes at the two of you.

“Alright, so we know it was at least two different werewolves from the scarred tissue on the second and third victim, so we gotta prepare. There may be more, we can’t be sure, so just be ready, ok?” Sam said sternly, getting up from the table and going to get his bag full of handguns.

You looked at Dean, and you both rolled your eyes at Sammy’s behaviour. Sure, werewolves could be bitches, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. You’ve been through much worse than a bunch of crazy beasts, and so it seemed a little unnecessary for Sam to act so tough. But you weren’t about to protest, because you knew you’d get a lecture on safety and whatnot, and you weren’t in the mood, not that you ever were.

Dean pecked your lips lovingly, and you caressed his cheek, revelling at the feeling of his stubble under your fingertips. Dean loved it when you touched him, whether it was his cheek, his back, or little Dean, it didn’t matter to him. Your touch was like a remedy for him, and he sought it all the time.

You got up from the table and went to get your things, Dean hot on your heels, slapping your ass cheek in the process. You had to giggle at his childishness, and the sound was music to Dean’s ears.

He remembered the first time he heard your laugh and even then he thought it was the cutest sound he’s ever heard. It was at Jody’s party, which you attended because you have been Jody’s friend for years. When Dean saw you, he thought you were totally out of his league. You looked like a badass even from afar, and he knew that his regular moves wouldn’t be enough to get you where he wanted you.

Safe to say, it took him almost 6 months to even ask you out, and even then he was a stuttering mess, and you had to try really hard not to laugh at his adorably flushed face. But you went out with him, and he made sure you didn’t get away.

Five years later, you were still by his side, and you two were stronger than ever. Hunting together, eating junk food and drinking together, having so much sex even Dean had a hard time walking some days, this relationship was everything Dean ever dreamt of.

Dean snapped out of it when he realised you were walking out of the door to join Sammy by the Baby, and Dean rushed to get his own things, and he sprinted out of the door to get to the driving seat before Sam got any ideas.

The drive towards the place where you supposed the werewolves were hiding was filled with light chatter between you and Dean, talking about what you’d have for dinner, and what movie you wanted to see. There was one particular with Chris Evans that you were super excited about, and even though Dean knew it was most probably just to stare at Chris Evans for 2 hours straight, he agreed to watch it with you. At least then he could be there to cover your eyes if Evans was to put down his shirt… Dean wouldn’t want you to think of any other man in bed, and he would make sure that it never happened!

When you got to the abandoned cottage on the outskirts of the town, you both shut up and turned on your hunters’ modes. The ones where you were alert to any sound around you, listening to your instinct like it was speaking directly in your ear.

You squeezed Dean’s hand, something you always did before the actual hunt, and he squeezed back, telling you that the three of you got this. He was sure that it would be one of the easier hunts, and the three of you could be home by the next afternoon.

You crept towards the cottage, each brother taking a different side so that you had most of the ground covered, and when you saw the first werewolf, already turned into the monster, you hollered at the boys and attacked him.

What you thought would be a pack of three wolves at most, turned out to be one with 10 of them. There was a lot of yelling and guns firing, screeching and gurgling and whatnot, from the dying monsters in front of you.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw that there were people in the cottage, tied up to chairs, probably waiting for slow deaths, and he felt pretty great to have come at that particular moment. He could be proud of all that hard work later when the man and the woman inside were actually free, and they could live their lives happily, even if probably traumatised for the rest of their lives.

Dean was lunging at his third werewolf because the guns just weren’t enough and he had to use his knife. Dean fought off the monster, only to have it lunge at him again, this time with much more strength. Still, it didn’t faze Dean, and so when the werewolf tried to attack his right side, Dean ducked and coming back up, he pierced the knife through its throat, slicing a clean line.

While he was busy doing that, he forgot to look around himself.

He thought all the werewolves were dead and so it came as a surprise when he heard a grave howl from somewhere behind him, and when he turned around, a werewolf was running straight to him. But because he was relatively close, Dean didn’t have the time to move, and so he just stood there, waiting for the inevitable.

He heard a pained scream, and when he looked down, he saw you in front of him, with a werewolf’s claw wedged deep inside your chest.

Dean heard himself yell, and he took the knife he was holding and shoved it deep inside the beast’s heart. He didn’t care what happened after that because he was too busy inspecting your injuries. And boy, were they bad.

“Stay with me, Y/N! You hear me? You’re gonna be alright, we just gotta call Cas real fast, baby,” Dean sobbed, not even realising he was crying until he felt something hot coming down his cheeks.

“‘M fine, babe! I’m always fine. It’s just a little scratch,” you whispered, your voice raspy and shaky.

Dean could see your eyes closing and the way you tried to fight their weight, but it was obviously stronger than you. He was praying like crazy for Castiel to come, to heal the love of his life because he couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without you in it.

Your chest was now bleeding heavier and heavier, and when he looked around, he could see a bunch of dead werewolves, but not Sammy. Dean only hoped Sam was also praying to whoever was listening to come and help his girl.

“I love you, Dean, and I-“

“NO!” Dean yelled, hugging you to his chest tightly. “Don’t make it sound like you’re saying goodbye. You’re not going anywhere, you’ll be fine, you’ll be-“

When Dean looked down into his arms, he saw your lifeless body slumped against his chest, your eyes closed, and your mouth ajar.

Dean closed his eyes and chanted your name like a prayer, trying to think of something to do just to get you back. He could hear somebody calling his name, but it felt like it was too far away, and frankly, Dean didn’t care. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but your dead form in his arms.

—-

Something or someone was shaking his whole body, and when he opened his eyes, Dean saw your worried face staring down at him. He sat up so fast he almost hit your forehead.

He was breathing heavily, and he tried to remember where he was and what was happening. Was it Gabriel playing tricks again? Did he go to some kind of fantasy land to be able to be with you?

“Baby, what is going on? You were crying out my name while you were sleeping. Are you alright?” You asked him worriedly, touching his cheek in the process. This small move and the feeling in Dean’s stomach told him that this was very much real, that you were actually there with him, and that it wasn’t any trick or joke.

“We- we were on a werewolf hunt in Tacoma, and, and you jumped in front of me to save me and the beast got you and you fucking died in my arms!” Dean said, his breathing still shallow and heavy from all the panic he felt not moments ago.

You smiled at him and brought him to your chest, patting his head and letting your fingers wove into his hair to massage his scalp. When you finally felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing got back to normal, you pushed him away slightly, only to grab his face in your hands, making him face you.

“That hunt happened two weeks ago, Dean. And while I did try to get between you and the werewolf, Sammy was faster, and he shot it before it could actually hurt me. It scratched me, sure, but I’ve been through worse,” you smiled at him, and let him connect all the dots.

Dean suddenly realised that what you were saying was true. You had a little scar between your breast from the werewolf’s claw, but that was it. You didn’t die in his arms, nor did you even bleed that bad.

He sighed heavily, and let you draw him near you once again. Making your scent and your voice calm and soothe him enough that he could fall asleep again. It was all just a bad dream. But deep down, Dean knew that it could happen any day in this line of work, and he had to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

He would drive to the city tomorrow and buy you a ring. You deserved a fucking diamond for all you had to go through with him. He would make you his wife to show fate his middle finger. You two would survive this shit-show of a world. Or you would go down kicking. Both of you.

Supernatural Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @defenderrosetyler

Dean Taglist

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph @sebbbystaaan @notyourtypicalrose @itsunclebucky

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

An Unexpected Encounter

Pairing Crowley x reader

Synopsis: Reader runs into her old hunting partners, the Winchesters, after not seeing them since they found out she was with Crowley years prior. The boys get a glimpse into life with a slightly domesticated Crowley.

Word count: 1560

Warnings: Swearing probably. Mentions of Hell, hell hounds, and demons. Angry Dean.

Author’s note: It’s my first Crowley imagine so let me know how I did! And, I chose George as a filler name to make the writing process easier, feel free to change it to whatever you would like while reading.

You walk out of the quaint little diner that you frequent once a week for breakfast, the warm spring weather surrounds you like a blanket. You breathe in deeply, enjoying the faint smell of rain that lingers in the air, and the fresh scent of blooming flowers. You bask in the sun's rays while you still can.

“(Y/N) is that you?” you here a deep voice that you know all too well coming from behind you. In the reflection from the diner’s picture window you can see your old hunting partners Sam and Dean advancing towards you. Your mouth dries and you take a gulp of air before turning to face the brothers. You put on your brightest smile, pushing the memories of the last time you saw them to the back of your mind.

“Sam, Dean,” you use your practiced fake voice. The one you use with Crowley’s demons when they annoy you and get out of hand. “What brings you boys to this little town?”

“Electric storms popping up, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a demonic omen,” Sam looks down at you, his long hair blowing lightly in the breeze. “Why are you here then?”

“Just finished breakfast,” you use your thumb to point at the diner behind you. The diner that holds your new life, the one you know Sam and Dean won’t approve of.

“So you quit hunting?” Dean raises an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah I did,” you put on a real smile, images of yours and Crowley’s life in Hell flash before your eyes. “I guess I wanted that apple pie life too.”

“Good for you (Y/N),” Sam smiles down at you. “Honestly never thought you’d be the one to give the supernatural up.” You faintly smile and give him a small nod, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Well let us know if you see anything,” Dean says in his gruff voice, the one he uses when he’s on guard. It’s been four years and he doesn’t trust you anymore, a small part of you deflates. These boys were practically your brothers, and because of one fight they no longer trust you.

“This isn’t attack of the demons,” you roll your eyes at Dean, too annoyed to care about your attitude. “Believe me, I would know.”

“You still talk to Crowley or something?” Dean’s anger flashes in his eyes. He has no right to get angry at you all over again. This fight was the whole reason you left in the first place.

“Something like that,” you move your left hand from your side into the back pocket of your jeans as naturally as you can. Wanting to hide the over the top engagement ring and matching studded wedding band.

“He’s just using you (Y/N). He doesn’t care about you he never has!” Dean roars. You take a deep breath to keep from yelling back, you can’t do this here. Not now.

Before you can open your mouth to refute his claim, the bells connected to the diner door jingle, alerting that you three or no longer alone on the street. You tightly close your eyes as you hear the tiny footsteps running up to you, no way to avoid this now.

“Mommy!” your son squeezes your legs and hides behind them when he sees that you aren’t alone.

“Hi my little prince,” you scoop him up into your arms, wanting the security of him being close to you right now. You glance behind you and see that his father did not accompany him out the door, and you let out a little sigh. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s inside paying,” he hides his face in the crook of your neck, trying to hide away from the punishment. The light scent of sulfur and crayons surrounds you now. Sam and Dean are staring at you with wide eyes, you almost forgot there were there.

“We talked about this mister-” you use your mom voice on him.

“I know,” your son leans back so he can look into your eyes, chubby arms wrapping around your neck. “But I saw you right outside the window and I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you chuckle fondly at your little boy, who has his father's black locks. “But you need to stay with one of us at all times.”

“Or someone could hurt me,” he finishes with a ridiculously large sigh coming from his tiny body. He definitely got his dramatic touch from his father. Sam clears his throat, reminding you that he and Dean are still there.

“Oh right! Sam, Dean this is my son, George,” you smile at the brothers. “George can you say hi?” He hides his face in your neck again in protest, you let out a little giggle. “Sorry about that, he can be a little shy when it comes to new people.”

“That’s okay George,” Sam smiles and lightly pinches George’s exposed cheek.

“Sam used to be shy too,” Dean adds, his eyes locked on your hand that's now rubbing soothing circles onto your son’s back. The sunlight bouncing off the many diamonds adorning your finger.

“George is pretty big,” Sam comments, noticing his brothers curious gaze.

“Yeah, he’s two and a half,” you grin down at the black mop of hair that’s in your eyesight. “I got engaged pretty quickly after I left, and married soon after. The pregnancy was a shock, we planned on waiting a little longer. But I wouldn’t change any of it.”

“So you moved on from that demon pretty quickly,” Dean gives you a triumphant smirk, he always hated your infatuation with Crowley.

“They do still talk,” Sam looks down at his brother. “So don’t get too cocky.”

The bells behind you jingle once again, your grip on George tightens a bit, hoping that Dean won’t start yelling when he sees Crowley. Crowley walks up to you, slinking his left arm around your waist, giving George a kiss on the head, before pecking your cheek. You look to the right and grin at your husband, your king.

“Moose, squirrel, always a pleasure to see you,” Crowley’s English accent drips with sarcasm.

“Those are people daddy,” George’s giggles are slightly muffled by your neck. “Not animals.”

“I know that my prince,” Crowley gives your son a genuine smile, sun glinting off his forehead ironically giving him the look of a halo. The king of Hell was quite the softy when it came to your little family. “Those were their nicknames when I worked with them years ago.”

George’s head flies out of the crook of your neck to whip around and face the brothers. “You knew my mommy and my daddy?” George asks, his little jaw dropping. “That’s crazy.”

“Yeah we did,” Sam gives him a soft smile while Dean’s anger seems to grow.

“The three of us worked together for years,” you gave George a small squeeze, Crowley’s arm tightens around your waist. “Your dad would help us occasionally. But after your father and I got together we realized that we wanted a family and we left. I actually haven’t seen Sam and Dean since then.”

“You’re still with him?” Dean asks, eyes shrinking into slits.

“Of course I am,” you scoff. “Hell, Sammy figured it out before Crowley ever walked out. I’m sure he knew as soon as I called George my prince.”

“You left us (Y/N)!” Dean seethes. “For that- that-”

“I was in love Dean! I still am,” you stare him down, jaw clenched tight. “And I would rather you not make a scene in front of my son.”

“No wonder you don’t want him away from either of you! He’s not-” Dean’s words are cut off when Crowley snaps. While no words come out, you can clearly make out the fact that he’s calling George not human and a monster.

You breathe in a sharp breath, fighting to hold back the tears that are rapidly rising. Dean was your best friend back in the day, the two of you were joined at the hip. But now he’s standing right in front of you insulting your son, your husband, your family.

“No one talks about my son like that!” Crowley’s voice rumbles, eyes briefly turning a bright red. “And no one raises their voice at my wife, she is my queen and you puny little humans will treat her as such!”

“Bye boys,” you smirk at them before Crowley snaps your family back to Hell. It may be dark and full of Demons, but it’s home.

“My love-” Crowley gently pulls George from your arms and sets him on the ground. As soon as his little feet hit the ground he’s running to his room to find Juliet, the gigantic deadly hell hound and your sweet little son, the strangest best friends.

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” you gently caress his cheek, leaning in to give him a passionate kiss. When you pull back to catch your breath, Crowley snaps the two of you to your room.

“How about we make another little one, my Queen?” there’s a familiar glint to his eyes, and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip.

“I think that can be arranged my king,” your hands grasp the lapels of his suit coat, and pull him into a deep sensual kiss.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #crowley #spn crowley x reader #supernatural crowley #supernatural crowley x reader #crowley x reader #crowley imagine #crowley fanfiction

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shardminds · 3 years

Text

okay i know in the grand scheme of things it’s been about 5 minutes since i got into spn and about 4.5 seconds since i started following spn blogs on tumblr but i just want 2 share some stuff re: what i would have liked to happen in my ideal ending. spoilers below.

number 1, sam and eileen endgame. after losing her in 15x18 and trying so hard to hold it together, sam’s quite obviously devvo’d. man’s a mess but he can’t let himself fall apart. 15x19 happens and everyone chuck disintegrated faster than communion wafers comes back and the FIRST thing sam does? calls eileen. high tails it out of there. speed limits who? there’s a heartwarming moment. maybe an ‘i love you’ or maybe not but it’s touching and heart wrenching and everyone cries and it’s nice. there you go, sam winchester. not only did you help save the world, but you got a happy ending in the process. eileen moves into the mol bunker. don’t @ me. she’s also great with miracle. and, in the long run, kids.

number 2, deancas. my whole thing is, if they didn’t want canon deancas ending, why have cas confess? like i get the empty deal and i understand ‘happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. it’s in just saying it’ but... if u didn’t want people to swarm on the possibility of deancas... why include it at all? especially for it to never be mentioned again. for cas, a man/angel/being of celestial intent that had spent like... 12(?) years at this point in sam and dean’s lives. you’re gonna tell me they just... let him sacrifice himself and then dip? ok. seems we have been watching different shows. or the same show from different perspectives. so, hear me out. dean says it back. maybe not in as many words or he pulls a hans solo ‘i know’. okay so they beat the shit out of The Literal Abrahamic God later to supercharge jack faster than shotgunning three monster energy mango locos ever could and leave chuck belly up in the mud like the invertebrate he proved himself to be and jack is Thee God now and dean just straight up asks. give that to me. give me the “please, jack.” and dean, so close to breaking, holding himself together with nothing but pure strength of will and residual adrenaline. give me jack’s reluctance, give me his admission of not wanting to mutate into the same megalomaniac chuck proved himself to be,using the winchesters as chess pieces in his own game. give me his humanity. the parts he inherited from kelly. give me his humanity and his grief and his loss and—castiel was his father, for fucks sake! he lost a father and a mother and he’s about to lose the only family he ever had. yes, he’ll be omnipresent—a perk of the job—but he’ll never be there in the way they want. so let him do this. there’s like a whole genesis parallel, you know all ‘the lord said let there be light, and there was light’ only not as on the nose as that. jack’s one selfish act before he himself, combined with amara, ascends. he does his whole speech. i’ll be in every drop of falling rain etc etc and then he dips. only, he’s gone and when dean turns around. cas is there. boom.

there’s no kiss. no explicit ‘hello look at this confirmed gay angel and his human hunter ??sexual friend making out’ because that too much too fast. dean has spent the past 15 seasons trying to unfuck himself from the damage john winchester left behind (the nun hunt on his 17th birthday? lebanon? i will meet john winchester in the pit.) and as close as he is to finally just allowing himself to be himself, he’s not quite there yet. but the relief on his face. the—i’m gonna say it—love in his expression. cas’s confession clearly affected him, just look at 15x18. maybe dean doesn’t know what that means yet. maybe he does. but there’s a hug. an embrace. one of those that says ‘i don’t know why or how i like you, fruity little angel man, but i do and i’m not letting go’. it lasts a beat too long. maybe there’s tears. i’ll leave that up to jackles jacting joices.

number 3, michael sacrifices himself to save adam. OKAY SO THE WHOLE MICHAEL STORYLINE IN 15x19? BULLSHIT. especially with the adamichael scene in 15x08? where it is canonically confirmed that, after spending a real life decade (which is OVER ONE THOUSAND YEARS in hell time. 4 months = 40 years so 10 years or 120 months = 1200 years) trapped in the cage together, they became friends and shared control of the vessel. michael considered adam his guide on earth. michael. MICHAEL. M I C H A E L. seeing how spn painted him as one of, if not, THE most powerful and fearsome angel? man’s whipped. and then he loses adam when chuck has his thanos snap moment. imagine sharing a vessel with someone for twelve. hundred. years. and then being completely alone in a world you don’t know. how maddening for there to be only silence in your head. the fact that they then rammed this bs of him being jealous of lucifer for being ‘daddy’s favourite’ was exactly that. bullshit. no no no, my friends. michael was playing his own game; crossing the winchesters for chuck but actually, crossing chuck for his own gain. he learns of the winchesters plan to utilise the fact that jack is the power hungry equivalent of a shamwow and uses that to his own gain. i haven’t figured out the particulars but when chuck beats the shit out of michael, he kills the angel but leaves the vessel (think like jack at the end of s14). michael the winchesters think michael died a snivelling god fearing soldier. and then, when jack does his whole thing, up wakes adam. the winchesters take him in and explain what went down when he, you know. and adam lets them know that no, michaels not like that etc etc he did it for me etc he did it to save me. michael’s fall was imperative to the destruction of god. and, for that, he will always be remembered. adam’s not a hunter, but he stays at the bunker anyway. he has nowhere else to go.

number 4, episode 15x20. what do you mean dean and sam both die? not in this universe i carry inside my head they don’t! this episode is just a bunch of scenes from throughout the years. you might think it boring but i think it’s great and this is my post so u can’t tell me what 2 do. dean opens up a bar for hunters a la 14x10 and has pictures on all the walls of all the fallen hunters and friends that have helped them throughout the years. you want a picture on the wall for a friend you lost? sure! just bring a photo and tack it on up there. out of sight, kept to the wall of the office, they keep pictures of the non-humans that helped. it’s private. a reminder. sam and eileen stop by a couple times a week if they can. jody and donna make the rounds with the girls too if work allows. or they come on their own. the girls are old enough to take care of themselves now. claire pops in when she can, always bringing a present for cas (despite him reprimanding her for doing so) and dean is always happy to see her. she doesn’t text enough.

sam sets up the bunker as a base for hunters again, trying to get a system up and running like before where hunters can check in and get help and use the weapons and resources they have for cases.

they don’t deal with heaven anymore. they haven’t seen jack since he disappeared but they also haven’t had any angel troubles either. maybe it’s because there are so few. castiel helps a lot as he still has his grace—although he’s still unable to teleport and he seems to be aging, trapped in some kind of space between. not angel and not human and definitely not nephilim. he’s powerful and powerless at the same time. he doesn’t complain about this, knowing what it means. it’s a kindness.

rowena is also on side, mostly, although she has her own gain in mind always. they have the stray demon that pops up every now and again but she– uh... prefers to make an example of them using her own methods. sam has learned not to question it. she teases him incessantly, as usual.

also, stay at home dad sam. eileen jumps back into hunting. they’ve had conversations—arguments—about it before. he doesn’t want to turn into his father, driven mad chasing mary’s ghost if something were to happen. she refuses to even entertain the thought of that. yelling “you are a lot of things, sam winchester. your father is not one of them.” and at the end of the day, there’s a mutual trust there and he knows she won’t put herself in unnecessary risk, and he 100% roped dean in to jumping on as backup if and when she needs it. the kid(s) are raised love and cherished and surrounded by family. sam also learns how to sign one handed with a baby on his hip. it’s adorable.

anyway we never have to find out about heaven because no one dies thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#spn #i don't wanna talk about it but i do #was gonna put this under a cut but am not a pussy #anyway if you can't tell im a dean coded dean girl

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imaginefan · 4 years

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can you write preferences for when they vent about the reader being their girlfriend, like "that's my girl" moment with loki, thor, stiles stilinski, gale, geralt, iron man, yennefer, dean and winchester

Loki Laufeyson

Loki had heard the screams before he could even see what was happening, you were watching a movie with the others but the screams made him think that something else had happened, he walked into the room and saw everyone had jumped to separate sides of the room and you were in the middle clutching your stomach Loki walked over you pulling you so that you were looking at him. “What happened?” He asked. Your body started shaking as you laughed.

“You remembered… That you taught me that spell… The one for small illusions?” You asked through your laughs.

“That was an illusion?” Tony asked and you curled in on yourself as your muscles started laughing again.

“You're all scared of spiders.” You gasped out.

“I’m scared of spiders that appear out of nowhere.” He answered and you rolled your eyes. Loki smiled as he looked at the frightened faces of the heroes around you.

“That’s my girl.” Loki said as he picked you up “now to teach you something bigger.”

Thor Odinson

Thor had left his hammer in the middle of the floor again and you were getting sick of having to keep yelling at him, you looked at it for a second before gripping it “Thor will you move this- Ahh!” Your sentence was cut off by your own surprise as you found yourself falling backwards.

“(Y/N) my love what happened?” Thor asked as he appeared in the doorway.

“I tripped.” You answered.

“Tripped?” He asked.

“Yes, and your stupid hammer didn’t save me.” You muttered as you lifted it towards him, not really thinking about what you were doing.

“That’s my girl.” He as he walked over to you.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned as he walked to the door calling for the others. “Oh… Oh!” You realised what exactly you were doing and then you looked at your own hand in shock “How is this possible.”

“You are worthy.” He smiled as he walked over to you.

Stiles Stilinski

You had expected for Stiles to be back by now, you knew that there was a certain type of nuance to breaking into an office but it was almost the end of the game, you decided that you were going to go look for him.

The first thing that you heard was the shouting from the swimming pool, you ran to the door and saw Stiles and Derek in the pool “What the hell is going on?” You asked.

“(Y/N) watch out!” Stiles yelled you noticed the moving shadow to your left and dodge as it came at you.

“Oh, I get it.” You nodded as you dodged out of the way again. “Did you at least find out what it is?”

“Not yet!” Stiles yelled back.

“So what am I supposed to do with it!?” You asked.

“It doesn’t like the water,” Stiles answered.

“Is that so?” You asked as you took out your phone and put in your password before having to dodge the creature again, you attempted to call Scott as you tried to get closer to the pool. You were standing with your back to the pool “Come on!” You yelled before jumping out the way at the last minute the lizard gave a harsh shout before jumping out the water and leaving, Scott appeared two seconds later to help you pull Derek and Stiles out of the pool.

“Where’d it go?” Scott asked.

“You should have seen (Y/N) she kicked the thing into the pool and he ran,” Stiles said and you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s just get out of here.” You muttered before heading to the door.

Gale Hawthorne

You had been out hunting before but you weren’t all too good at it, Gale said that he was going to help you, so you met him outside of the gates where he taught you how to place your feet so that you could move quietly, you had a few practice shots before you headed out. “This is going to end so badly.” You muttered to yourself.

“Stop being so hard on yourself.” Gale said softly before pressing a kiss to your head and leading you through the forest, you walked behind him concentrating on not making any noise, Gale tapped the top of your head as he turned back to you, he pointed up into the bushes where there was a deer grazing. You stepped in front of him and positioned yourself as he told you.

“Breath in and pull back to your chest.” He said softly. “Elbow up.” You loosed the arrow that hit the deer in the shoulder, you released a second arrow that flew through the air that hit the chest seconds after killing the deer. “That’s my girl.”

“Beginners luck.” You played it down.

“We’ll see.” He smiled as he pulled you towards the deer that you had just killed.

Geralt Of Rivia

Geralt had just finished a job, he had left you with Roach and Jaskier, you were supposed to make sure that the men that had hired him didn’t try to leave without paying him, or even tried to steal from him. Now the first thing that he heard were the screams of the men that had hired him and you talking in a dangerously low tone. When he broke through the trees to find you had the man on the floor you knee pressed to his back and his arm pulled up behind him “They move I’ll break it.” You threatened as you gestured to his friends who seemed to have been moving towards Jaskier and Roach.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Oh Geralt your back.” You smiled “they did just what you thought that they would, they tried to skip out on the deal.”

“Mmm.” Geralt grunted.

“Give him the money.” The man under your knee ordered and one of the others threw him the money before you let him go and they all run. You stood up dusting yourself off as Geralt stepped up behind you wrapping an arm around your waist.

“That’s my girl.” He said softly as Jaskier groaned from across the clearing.

Tony Stark

Tony made a mistake that much was clear but there was no point in everyone yelling at him, you were all just wasting time, so you stepped up “Are you all done!?” You asked.

“He’s-”

“Made a mistake, haven’t we been cleaning up everyone else’s these past few months?” You asked.

“That’s-”

“Not the point. No, but we don’t have time to yell about everything.” You explained and Steve looked at you. “Yes mistakes have been made, Tony knows that, we all know that, there’s no point in standing around arguing about it while the bad guy gets a head start.”

“Your right,” Steve said.

“Everyone take a minute and then we’ll sort this out.” You said, everyone left the room and you turned to Tony. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Look I-”

“You're going to fix it.” You ordered.

“You're just finishing everyone’s sentences today.” He teased.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “I stop people from yelling at you, that's why you love me.”

“That's why you're my girl.” Tony smiled pulling you into a hug.

Yennefer

You and Yen were travelling together, you’d decided that you needed to stop for the night because sleeping on the road just was not going to cut it for another night. You walked into the Tavern and you had expected some stares but you hadn’t expected for someone to actually approach you both. “You ladies need a place to stay?” The man asked, he literally could not stand upright and his smelled terrible.

“Leave us be,” Yen said dismissing him but he stepped closer managing to fit himself between your’s and Yen’s seats.

“Come on I’m sure that I can-” He was cut off by you grabbing his hand and twisting it behind his back.

“I don’t think you can keep up.” You teased as your knife pressed against his neck.

“You can do better than that.” Yen smirked and you moved the knife down to his stomach. “Warmer.” She reached forward-moving it down further. “That’s my girl.”

“No, wait.” He pleaded.

“Next time it’ll be more than a threat.” You informed him before letting go and sheathing the knife.

“We don’t need your help Geralt, she’s got it covered,” Yen called out and you looked behind you to see Geralt standing arms folded as he watched the scene play out. You just smiled and waved before pulling Yen to your room.

Dean Winchester

Dean had met you after Sam had left and you guys hand been hunting together ever since, you went back with him to find Sam when their Dad went missing and you stuck by him no matter what happened but there was one thing that you did that he considered one of your most important skills, whenever you had access to a kitchen you would cook a pie and today was no different.

The bunker was quiet, the boys were sleeping, you were up early for no particular reason so you decided to make a pie, you knew that Dean would want one, it was about half way through the cooking process that the smell seemed to pull Dean out of bed and you giggled went he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of your face when he appeared in the kitchen. “What are you doing up so early?” He asked.

“It’s not early. Sam just went for his workout.” You answered and he looked at the door and then the oven.

“But you were up before that.” He said and you nodded.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged “I was up so I thought that I would bake a pie.”

“Pie!?” He asked.

“It’s not done yet.” You laughed pushing him away from the oven.

30 to 40 minutes later you were sitting at the table and Dean had a whole pie in front of him as Sam walked through the door “Where’d you get that?” Sam asked.

“(Y/N) made it.” Dean answered a smile stretching across his face “my girl knows what I need.” Sam just rolled his eyes and left the room to take a shower while you rested your head against the table tired and embarrassed.

Sam Winchester

Sam hadn’t ever really had a problem with researching for a case but for some reason he just could focus he was sitting at the table with a blank look on his face as he re read the same passage for the 4th time, you glanced over at him and frowned before picking up the laptop doing a quick search on the town.

“Hey what about this?” You mumbled softly as you turned the laptop to show an article about the house that you were looking into. “A girl died in the house, they marked it as a suicide but maybe we can find out why she did it.”

“You are perfect.” He smiled as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“All I did was search the town.” You shrugged and he smiled.

“You're perfect.” He said again before turning and walking out the room “Dean!” He called. “My wonderful, perfect, ama-”

“Sammy we get it, what have you got!?” You heard Dean shout cutting off his younger brother and causing you to groan, you’ll hear about that later.

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Loveless – Part 2

Request: I am a 100% Dean girl but sometimes I want to be sad over Sammy. Can you do a request with you and Sam. You are together but he messes up and you catch him with Ruby..... you take it from there. Mostly angst with maybe a little fluff.

Summary: Addicted to demon blood Sam takes one step too far…

Pairing: OOC Sam x Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ruby, Castiel, Zachariah

Warnings: angst, virgin reader, age gap, demon blood addicted Sam, scared reader

Loveless Masterlist

With every mile you bring between Sam and you, your heart sinks but your fear fades. Dean begged you on his knees to not leave him, or rather his brother but you couldn’t stay any longer.

For months you tried to make Sam see Ruby is using him, making him addicted to her blood. He trusted a demon more than you, his best friend since childhood, the woman loving him unconditionally until he crossed a line.

You always believed Sam would never hurt you, would always choose you and Dean over anyone else…you were wrong.

Your eyes grow heavy from the long drive as you see someone standing on the road. Hitting the breaks with full force you gasp seeing the woman not even flinch. In a blink she sits in your passenger seat, smirking at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Why did you leave my Sammy?” Ruby chuckles.

----

“I need to find her, Dean. I need to tell her I’m sorry. This wasn’t me; you know that. I would never hurt her. Please…” Sam chokes, grabbing his brothers’ arm.

“I can’t tell you where she is.” Dean barks. “Dean…please.” Tears slip down Sam’s cheeks as he kneels next to his brother, begging him to call you, to tell you to come back.

“I can’t make her come back, Sam. I don’t know where Y/N is right now. She changed all her numbers, didn’t contact anyone. I can’t find her, Sammy…I tried…” Dean sighs glancing at his hands. “I should’ve never left her alone after we found out about your addiction. I knew you are dangerous.”

“Dean…” Sam sniffles. “Please…I need her. Without Y/N, I don’t know if I can stay clean.”

“Sammy, I can’t tell her to come back, not after what you did to her.” Dean’s eyes meet Sam’s clouded hazel orbs. “She was terrified.”

“I need to talk to her, Dean.” Sitting down onto the floor Sam hides his face in the palms of his hands. “Castiel said I need Y/N to make sure Lucifer won’t rise. He said Y/N is the key to keep me from making another mistake. I need her…”

----

“What do you want, demon? Sam ain’t here. You made it, Ruby. I’m gone; have fun fucking him, pumping him full of your blood. I don’t care any longer.” You exhale starting the engine.

“I want you to stay away from Sam. One step toward him and you are gone.” Ruby says glancing at you.

“What am I doing right now, demon bitch? I’m bringing as many miles as possible between the monster you created and me. Now move your stinking dead ass out of my car. I don’t want to see you or this version of Sam ever again. I’m done pretending he’s still my friend.” You snarl narrowing your eyes.

“Stay away or you are dead before your body hits the floor,” Ruby warns vanishing.

“Yeah…fuck you too.” You scoff.

----

“Castiel, can you find her?” Sam whispers as the blue-eyed angel glances at him. “Castiel…”

“Sam, I can’t bring her back…” Castiel closes his eyes. Seeing Ruby in your car the angel changes his mind. If the demons don’t play fair, he won’t either. “Let me concentrate.”

----

Your eyes are heavy but at least the motel room is demon proof, and no one will disturb you. Snuggling into the pillow you drag around, a pillow smelling like Sam you try to find some well-deserved sleep.

Shifting in your sleep you feel someone touching you, feel Sam’s hand around your throat, his breath in your face. You push against his chest, fighting, screaming until you sit up, screaming on the top of your lungs…waking from your dream only to see Sam touching your arm.

Your body is not obeying your brain, frozen to the spot you start shaking; lips quivering you shake your head, trying to make him not hurt you or worse.

“Please, don’t…I’m gone as you wanted. I won’t come back.” You plea and Sam looks at you with sad eyes, slumping down onto your bed.

“I’m sorry…so sorry.” He whispers looking at his hands, the hands hurting you. “I’m normal again…feel better. I can’t remember what I did but Dean told me.” Sam whispers.

“Did you send Ruby to threaten me?” You sniffle and he looks at you, confused.

“No. I didn’t see her since Dean captured me. I swear I didn’t tell her anything. Did she hurt you, Y/N?” His eyes roam your body, trying to find any trace of injury.

“Not yet. She said I must stay away from you, no need to tell me so. I’m not wanted around any longer, just like Dean. This demon is more important to you. Leave me alone…please. I’m no harm.” Shaking you try to scramble away but Sam moves his arms around your waist, pressing you to his body, sniffling into your neck. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. I was so lonely without you. Please come back.”

“For you to play with me again. Are you that cruel?”

Pushing against Sam’s chest, fighting his strength you try to break free but he tightens the grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, sniffling.

“Please come back, Y/N. I need you to come back. You are the one seeing not the monster in me, telling Dean my visions and abilities are not evil. I’m sorry for how I treated you, so sorry…” Sam begs but you keep on fighting his embrace, the closeness. “I need you…” He whispers planting a soft kiss to your neck.

“Sam, you don’t need or want me in your life. You’ve got your beloved Ruby, I’m no one to you. The old Sam, my friend would’ve never chosen a demon over me and his brother, now let me go. I don’t want to get involved in this insanity any longer.” You mutter. “Does Dean know?”

“Castiel brought me here, told me about Ruby and that she threatened you. I came here as fast as possible. I’m sorry she had the chance to get close to you, I just thought I can defeat Lilith without anyone getting hurt or killed. I need to stop her…” Sam whispers in your neck as you paw at his shirt.

“Stop her or have your revenge, Sam? Dean is back, we would’ve found a way to kill her…together. There is no need for you to swallow demon blood like a junkie. You are not yourself while being high on that shit. I don’t want to be close to you…”

“Don’t leave me…I need you to stay with me.” Sam won’t let you go, even while you try to break free with all your strength. “Come back, I swear I’ll never get close to Ruby or demon blood ever again. I’ll do anything you want. Just come back…”

“Sam…”

“Please. I’m still your Sammy. I know I hurt you, I scared you while being a demon blood junkie, but I can be your ‘old Sammy’ again.” Sam whispers.

His large hands press you close to his body, making you feel the heat radiating underneath his skin.

“Sam, I’m afraid Dean followed us with Bobby,” Castiel says entering your room, watching the scene with concern.

“Castiel, give me a bit more time. Can you distract them?” Sam asks turning his head toward the angel.

“What shall I do?” Castiel asks cocking his head.

“Don’t know, manipulate Dean’s car?”

“No! Don’t mess with Dean’s baby,” you gasp shaking your head.

“I’m afraid it’s too late. Dean is way too close to stop him. You should seduce Y/N to come back or your brother will stop you, once for all. He’s mad…” The angel says glancing at you, struggling to break out of Sam’s grip.

“Y/N, please come with me.” Sam tries once again.

“Why? When Dean died, you left me behind. I called you, was looking for your but you were busy playing vampire with Ruby.” You curse punching his chest.

“Vampire?” Sam chuckles.

“How do you call someone sucking a girls blood? You did the same with my split lip, sick. We are hunting things doing such a thing…”

“I’m not like that anymore, please believe me. From now on I’ll stay sober.” Sam can hear the Impala getting closer. Panicked he holds you even tighter, not letting go of you. “Y/N, please…I love you.” The hunter blurs out and you freeze, glancing up at him.

His eyes are back to normal, warm hazel orbs look at you as you stop fighting his embrace.

Sam wants to say more, wants to beg you to come back again but then his brother along with Bobby storm into the room.

“Hands off, Sam. I’ll give you ten seconds to let go off, Y/N.” Dean warns as Bobby looks at Castiel, confused.

“Why did you lead him to her, Castiel? He almost…” Bobby sighs, shaking his head. “I thought you are the good guy, protecting innocent people.”

“Y/N is needed in this war. Sam needs her, Bobby. Only together we can prevent Lilith will help Lucifer to rise. This is not the time for fooling around or bickering about hurt feelings.” The angel shrugs and Bobby glares at him, ready to attack.

“Hurt feelings? He tried to force himself on her!” Bobby yells and you flinch, remembering the fear.

“I will never hurt her again, I swear,” Sam whispers. “We need you.”

“Sammy, let her go. Y/N needs time to process what happened lately. We can’t force her to come with us.” Dean says.

“I’ll let her go if she comes with us.”

“Sam…” Bobby warns. “Let the girl go.” He’s unlocking his gun, ready to hurt Sam.

“Bobby,” you gasp looking at your friend, mentor - the man raising you. “Don’t…he’s still Sam deep down inside…please…” Your voice is meek, shy and you hate it. “I’ll come with you, with Dean…for now.”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t. Sam is barely down from this shit. I don’t want to see you getting hurt, again.” Dean whispers giving you a cracked smile.

“I’ll stay with you then, Dean. I won’t stay alone with Sam for a while.”

----

“I don’t like this plan, Zachariah.” Castiel says looking at his ‘boss’.

“This is how it should be, Castiel. Lucifer will rise and we will have our fight.” Zachariah chuckles.

“We let Lilith break the seals on purpose. Now we let Sam kill Lilith. We even use this innocent girl to make him do so. This is wrong, Zachariah. I can’t believe our father wants us to hurt them, destroy his creation.” Castiel says glancing at you entering the car. There’s a tremble in your hand as Sam gently tugs a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

“Grow up, Castiel. This decision is above your pay grade, little angel. This is faith like our father wants it to happen. The girl is the key, you know her future.” Zachariah chuckles.

“I know, but I don’t have to like it…”

SPN Forever Tags

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Loveless Tags

@delicatefirespyplaid, @takemebillyhargrove, @trumpettay, @ardnassela19, @terrible-terrible-blog

#spn #spn fanfiction #Loveless Masterlist #angst #virgin reader #dean winchester #castiel #zachariah #bobby singer #ruby spn #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam x you #sam winchester x you #sam winchester series

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