casuallytwisteduniverse

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

A Soft Aftermath

Author: CasuallyTwistedUniverse

Character: Dean

Word Count: 1285 words

Warnings: fluff, angst

Summary: Dean takes care of the reader after a hunt, helping her shower and holding her as she falls asleep. It’s somewhat inspired by this one scene in a James Bond film.

Authors Note: Haven’t written anything for SPN in ages but I just started re-watching the series and got inspired. Only on season four so beware of any inconsistencies.

_________

The hunt had not gone as planned. Dean glanced from the rear-view mirror to the back seat of the impala where he saw you looking blankly out of the window. You hadn’t said much since it happened, though neither Sam nor Dean expected you to. It was an unusual case – the demon killing those families had not been to draw Sam and Dean into some kind of trap as often was the case, but rather to find Y/N. Y/N had been privy to what lurks in the dark for only a short while now. When doing their research, Sam had tracked down records of Y/N, the young high school graduate who disappeared following the murder of her parents. There was no telling why, and both Sam and Dean were inclined to believe that you’d been possessed. It was surprising to find that you hadn’t, but rather had run and made it this far. They still don’t know why the demons were after you, but until they found out, you were their responsibility. They owed you that much – you had saved their lives. It was a heat of the moment thing. The demon had both Sam and Dean pinned against the wall, moments before it was to rip out their throats and sweep you away into the night. You’d reached for the colt, which had been strewn onto the floor. You’d never killed anything before, and as you took aim, you saw only the man imprisoned inside the body the demon inhabited, and you hesitated. The demon taunted you with a smirk; “put down the gun little girl”. Looking the man in the eyes, you aimed sure and true before pulling the trigger. It was all a blur after that as Dean pulled you from the house and into his impala, gunning it out of town.

Dean had been driving for what felt like hours. Sam had explained everything to you – who they were, what they did.  Dean pulled into a motel at about three in the morning. You hadn’t slept at all. Without saying anything, you followed Sam and Dean into the motel. Sam mumbled something about getting something to eat before leaving the motel and dean gave you an old shirt of his to change into after a shower. You hadn’t realised, but you were covered in dried blood – the blood of the man you’d killed. ‘Demon,’you told yourself, though it was hard not to think of the innocent man that body truly belonged to now dead because of you.

Without a word, you moved into the bathroom, Dean watching over you. When the door closed behind you, your façade shattered like glass and you gazed upon your reflection in the mirror as if it were a stranger – she looked like you, but somehow you were unrecognisable. ‘Killer’, you thought to yourself. You turned on the facet in the sink, trying to scrub the blood front your hands though it seemed to be impossible to get rid of. As the red water swirled in the basin, your breathing hitched and you felt yourself getting lightheaded, panic washing over you. Without thinking, you stepped into the shower and, still fully dressed, stood under the cold falling water before slowly sitting down, your back dragging down the wall as you drew your knees to your chest under its stream. You must have been sitting like this, shivering softly, for a while when you heard a tap on the door.

“Y/N?” It was Dean. You could hear the concern in his voice. “You okay in there?”

You didn’t say anything – you couldn’t.

“Listen, I’m – uh, I’m coming in,” he stumbled. The door creaked open slightly, and you saw his head peak around. His demeaner changed the moment his eyes found you. He approached the shower timidly, not quite sure what to do before he seemed to make up his mind and stepped under the stream himself, before sitting next to you. He turned on the hot water and pulled your shivering body against his own. He noticed you rubbing your hands, almost scratching them.

“Can’t get it off” you said quietly. He took your small hands in his own, and gently smoothed them over until the blood had disappeared from the creases of your hands and fingernails. You sat there for a while in silence, as he stroked your arm softly. A short while later you heard Sam come back, opening and closing the motel door.

“Dean?” you heard him call.

“Everything’s fine, Sammy.” You didn’t see because your head was buried in Deans chest, but you heard the bathroom door creak open once more, and felt Dean shake his head slightly.

Soon Dean was pulling you from the floor of the shower. You let him, though you didn’t make any attempt to speak. Dean guided you through the motions as he carefully pulled your wet shirt from your body. He avoided looking down at your body as you tugged off your soaked jeans and, though you couldn’t care less at the time, you were somewhat grateful. Dean took off his own wet clothes and disappeared into the motel bedroom for a moment to change before coming back and waiting for you to finish, his back turned from the shower. When you switched the facet off, he grabbed a towel and held it behind him for you.

“Thank you, Dean”, you said, your voice cracking slightly.

“It’s fine.”

Dean waited for you while you dried yourself off before offering you his shirt. You slipped it on and he guided you out the bathroom. Sam was already asleep, passed out under the covers of one of the two twin beds.

“Here, take this,” Dean said softly, handing you some pills. “They’ll help you sleep. No dreams, I promise. Just sleep.”

You swallowed the pills before Dean helped you to bed. He pulled the covers over you like you were a child, gentle and delicate. As he turned, presumably to crash on the couch, you caught the edge of his shirt between your fingers. Dean looked back at you, concern playing on his face.

“Please don’t leave me alone,” you whispered, not quite making eye contact with him. He nodded and you moved across the bed, the sleeping pills already making your body feel heavy as it moved. Dean climbed under the covers with you. It was a tight fit, and it took you a moment to get comfortable, but you both settled with dean holding you from behind, your head resting upon his arm and his other arm snaked across your side. You could feel his breath on your neck and the beating of his chest behind you. Sleep pulled on your eyelids and when it came you were engulphed in a deep slumber unbroken by dreams nor nightmares, just as Dean had promised.

When you awoke the following morning, it took you a moment to realise that the heaviness on top of you was Dean’s sleeping body. He held you tight to his chest with one arm and his leg lay over you, effectively encasing you underneath him. As you turned, you felt Dean start to wake up. He seemed to have the same realisation about where he was and carefully moved himself off of you. A moment later he gazed down at you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Will be,” you said. You weren’t sure if it was true, but you looked deeply into Dean’s eyes and saw safety, something that had been denied to you for months. Whatever was going on, you were going to figure it out and Sam and Dean were going to have your back. This you knew.

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Hey, so I just found your migraine one-shot and I have to say, that is the best thing I have ever read. I suffer with migraines myself, and it was a lot more accurate than the other things I've read. Thank you so much!

Aww you're welcome :) I'm so, so glad you liked it!

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Hating A Pondering Mind

Author: CasuallyTwistedUniverse

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 2972 words

Warnings: BDSM, angst and pondering in bathtubs.

Request from Anonymous: I love your account! I was wondering if you could do a dom/sub relationship between the reader and Dean with subspace and subdrop, but Dean doesn't do aftercare and cas always looks after her after Dean leaves and she realises she's better with cas?

Authors Note: I know this is super late, I’m sorry! You guys all know what school is like *sigh*  

_________

 You hate taking baths. They’re tedious and long and whenever you take one, your mind can never help but wonder. And when your mind wonders, you begin psychoanalyzing every thought and feeling and emotion and you end up leaving the bathroom feeling quite the opposite of content with you emotional well being. But, much to your dismay, the motel in which you were currently residing didn’t have a freaking shower, so, here you were; in the bath tub half-halfheartedly massaging lavender body wash into your skin, while simultaneously pondering the undoubtedly gorgeous and utterly flawed man that is Dean Winchester.

You started hunting with Dean and his brother a few months ago. It didn’t take long for him to sneak past your metaphorical wall of solitude, and then into your pants. You simply could not resist his handsome boyish charm. At first it was just sex. Just the normal, vanilla sex that you were used to. But, after a particularly… rough hunt, Dean tied you to the bunker’s table and fucked you in a way you’d never been fucked before. It was hot and fast and glorious. He’d told you exactly how to behave and when to move and what to say and when to cum. Everything was new and amazing. Except for one little detail; he never stayed. After he was done with you, he’d untie or unstrap you from whatever he had tied or strapped you to, kiss you, say something like “that was amazing, Y/N” or “You rock, Y/N” and leave. You’d never dare verbalize your feelings of hurt and abandonment every time he left, not because you were afraid of him, quite the opposite actually; you had a gigantic motherfucking crush on him. It wasn’t just sex for you. But you were pretty damn sure it was for him. God, why did you always have to fall for the ones who would never in a million years fall for you?

If you spent any longer in this bath, you were going to turn into a prune. Getting out of the tub, you winced a little feeling the effects of Dean’s treatment of you from a couple nights ago. You knew your ass would still be a little pink. Before drying yourself off with a towel, you ran your eyes down your refection in the bathroom mirror. You had bite marks on your shoulders and a constellation of hickeys in strange shapes and patterns all over your body. To be honest, it turned you on just looking at them. But now was not the time. Dean and Sam were going to be back any minute. You dried off and threw on an old Beatles shirt along with some jeans.

You walked into the motel room finding it absent of all Winchesters. You sighed and collapsed onto a rather unflattering looking couch and started reading some ancient book on local legends in the mid-Iowa area. You were halfway through reading about some mysterious murder case during the 1930s when–

“Y/N?”

You turned your head so fast, you heard your neck ‘click’. But when you saw who is was, you breathed out a sigh of exasperation and relaxed into the chair once again. “Cas, don’t do that!” you said, rubbing your neck.

“My Apologies.”

You just sighed again in reply.

“Y/N?” he repeated.

“Yes Cas?”

“Where is Sam and Dean?” he asked.

“Out,” you said.

“Out,” he repeated. “Out where?”

“They’re talking to the families of the victims. Trying to find a pattern. It’s looking like a dead end at the moment to be honest…” you said, absentmindedly picking at a fray piece of thread from the couch. “They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

There was an awkward pause before Cas sat down stiffly beside you on the couch where he proceeded to stare blankly in the general direction of ‘forward’. You hadn’t known Castiel very long. He’d pop around (literally) every now and then to check in or help with a case. Sometimes he’d just come to spend time with Sam and Dean. He seemed like a good guy. You’d never been alone with him though, so the current situation seemed drenched in perpetual awkwardness.

“That’s a nice, uh… necklace,” Cas said, motioning towards your chest.

“Oh this?” You touched the small locket hanging from you neck. “Thanks, I guess. It was my mother’s.”

“It’s beautiful.”

You smiled softly and went back to reading all about how Mrs. Aliza Jackson, 43, disappeared mysteriously one night several decades ago and was never seen again. Castiel returned to his previous stance of what looked like either extreme-daydreaming or intense aloofness. Whatever it was, you thought you’d best not disturb him and so you abandoned all thought of conversation or social decency and just kept reading.

About 20 minutes later, Dean came back with Sam, along with a few burgers and some fries. You all spent what was left of the morning trying to connect the victims and possibly figure out what the hell was killing them. Unfortunately, the latter continued to prove itself a mystery, though you’d found all the victims were female, and Sam had made the terribly confusing, yet possibly helpful discovery that all the victims were in fact, all brunette, and all around 5' 5". You were both a brunette and 5' 5". Fabulous.

                                                                              ***

The Plan wasn’t perfect. In fact, it seemed to be quite immensely flawed. But, unfortunately, it was the best you could come up with. Later that night, you were standing in the darkness outside some small bookstore in town. Nobody was around, and the only light in the area was coming from the lamppost that flickered every so often across the street and cast a rather ominous glow over the small shops. You could only slightly see the outline of the impala down the street where Sam, Dean and Castiel would be watching for any unusual behavior. All the other victims had been taken from this street, so if the bastard decided to show itself tonight, it’d be here. Neither of you had any idea what it was you were supposed to be hunting so, just in case, you’d prepared for just about anything.

After about two hours of absolutely nothing, you were ready to give up and try another approach. You began towards the impala, shaking your head when suddenly, you felt chills crawling up your spine. You were swept off your feet, and before you knew it, you were being strangled against the side of the building. You heard footsteps running toward you, and then yelling, and then gunshots. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. You were on the floor. The thing that had had you pressed up against the shop was screeching a shrilly roar down the street. You looked to see that Cas had the thing pinned down to the ground, but it seemed to have strength that he hadn’t expected, and the beast threw him to the ground. The monster made another run at you. You reached into the back of your jeans and pulled out a handgun, took aim, and shot rock salt right into the fucker’s chest. He didn’t stop. In fact, this just seemed to make him angrier. He opened his mouth and you saw them; fangs. He was a vampire. Just as he was about to sink his teeth into your throat, Cas pulled the bastard from you and slammed him to the ground, Dean helping to hold the monster down.

“Sam!” Dean yelled as the vampire tried to toss them off of him.

Sam appeared to have retreated to the impala. Wait, no, he’d just gone to fetch the big knife. You’d hit your head on the wall and everything was a little confusing. Why was Dean cursing again? A few moments later, Sam was back and decapitated the vampire via machete with such force, you were almost afraid of him. Almost. You cared for Sam and knew he’d really rather have done anything then chop off a vampires head tonight.

                                                                              ***

After a few moments, Dean had helped you from the ground and taken you to the impala. Sam had said something about getting rid of the body and Cas had said he’d help and take Sam back to the motel when it was done. It took a few minutes for your dazed mind to settle to a more comfortable throbbing but once it did, you weren’t feeling so bad. After all, that technically was a pretty successful mission. But you were feeling a little shamed that if it hadn’t of been for Cas, you’d probably be looking pretty damn terrible right now. And that would be the best case scenario.

Finally walking back into your motel room with Dean, you throw your bag onto the table and collapse onto one of the three beds face down, wrought with both relief and exhaustion. Just as you began contemplating the effort and emotional preparedness needed to take another (much needed) bath before you fall asleep, you heard a slap cut through the silence and felt the cheeks of your ass tingling with sensation.

“Dean!” Turning on your back, you saw as Dean smirked at you and then whipped off his shirt so fast that you had no time to process what was happening.

“Take your clothes off,” he said sharply, lust almost radiating off of him.

“Dean, Sam and Cas could be back soon!” you said urgently. There was no way Sammy, or cute, innocent Castiel would catch you doing the dirty with Dean Winchester. No matter what he did. No way. It’s too risky.

Dean sighed and walked towards the table before he reached into a rather special black duffle bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

“Now, Y/N,” he said. “You have been a very… naughty girl. Got me all worried about you, you know? I think you need to be punished. I think you need to be fucked.”

Never mind. Sam and Cas will get over it. Probably.

“Do you think you need to be punished, sweetheart?” Dean asked, sincerely. He is way too good at this. You can already feel your arousal pooling between your legs.

“Y-yes, Dean. I mean… Sir,” you said in a sultry voice.

He liked that.

Breathing in a shaky breath, Dean stared unbuttoning his pants. “Then take off your damn clothes and bend over the table.”

“Yes, Sir.” You did as he said. He watched as you removed your shirt, then your jeans, then your bra, and then your panties. You had been with Dean so many times now, he’d already seen all of you before. You’d gotten over most of your insecurities around him now.

Before you could throw your lace thong onto the pile with your other clothes, Dean reached for it, said “We’ll be needing these later,” and watched as you nodded, made your way to the small motel table and ever so slowly bent over, exposing everything to him.

“Now,” he said hoarsely. “How about you help me count.”

“O-okay, Sir.”

Dean was roughly kneading your ass cheeks and then–Slap!

“One!” you squealed.

Slap! “Two!”

Slap! “Fuck! Three!” They were getting harder now.

SLAP! “F-four!” Jesus Christ, you wanted him.

SLAP! “FIVE!”

“God, Dean just fuck me!” SLAP! “FUCK!”

“On your knees,” Dean said, massaging your cheeks that were bound to be scarlet. You did as he said. You looked up at him innocently.

“What next, Sir?”

“Fuck, Y/N. Uh, take off my belt.” You did. “Pants, Y/N.” You unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them down his body, followed by his underwear. “Now, suck my cock.”

Grasping his hardness, you placed a wet kiss right on the tip, and slowly eased his cock as far as it would go down your throat. Coughing a little, you pulled back for breath before diving back in for more. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder. With a moan, Dean fisted his hands in your hair and full on face fucked you. And, God, you loved it.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum!” he grunted as the thrust down your throat. You moaned around his cock, running your tongue around him, and he exploded into your mouth, cursing through breaths. He pulled out of your mouth, sensitive now.

“Swallow,” he said. And you did. Gladly.

You opened your mouth to him to prove it, and, satisfied, he picked you up and lifted you into his arms. You were horny as fuck now.

“Sir,” you whispered as he lowered you onto the bed. “I need you to fuck me. Please?” You looked up at him with the sweetest eyes you could muster.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard dean murmur. “On your knees.”

You did as he said, moving on the bed so that you were positioned towards the headboard, you ass in the air, ready for Dean. More than ready. He didn’t touch you though. Instead, he got up from the bed, and returned a moment later. You turned around to see that he had in his hand, the silver metal handcuffs and your black panties. Without a word, he took your hands and handcuffed them around the headboard of the bed.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

You did, and he shoved your panties right into your mouth. You could taste yourself on them and you tasted pretty damn good.

You felt Dean rubbing his once again hard length against your entrance. He was teasing you. You just about keened into your panties to try and get him to hurry the fuck up.

“Greedy, are we?” Dean taunted. God yes. You nodded vigorously trying to persuade him. “Ready, baby.”

It was less a question more a warning.

He buried his cock inside you, thrusting in and out, in and out...

He ran his hands down your back and across your ass, scratching red marks in your skin. You felt yourself shiver under his touch; he is electrifying.

He reached to your head and fisted your hair in his hand, pulling your neck back. He fucked you harder, and harder. It was like there were strings tightening in the deepest part of you, stretching and stretching; threatening to snap. And then they did.

You came with such power and such force, you were sure you’d floated away. You felt Dean spasm inside you, and paint your walls with his glorious cum.

You stayed like that for a while. Or what felt like a while. Dean pulled out of you, unlocked you from the cuffs, and you took the panties from your mouth. You sat upright on the bed, pulling the covers around you.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” Dean said, chuckling to himself as he zipped the cuffs back into the black duffle bag. You laughed with him, knowing what would be coming next. But hoping otherwise.

“Look, uh,” He said, dressing himself. “Sam and Cas probably should have been back by now. I mean, it’s probably a good thing they’re not, you know, but, uh, I should probably go check. Just in case.”

“Um, sure, okay,” you said, smiling at him. This was killing you. Again.

Dean grabbed his keys, and headed out the room to the impala. You sat on the bed, still smiling, still pretending, until you heard the impala leave the parking lot.

And then you completely broke down.

You haven’t cried in a while. A very, very long while so you don’t really know what to do with yourself. As the seconds passed, you just became worse, soon you were sobbing shamelessly into your pillow. Why does he always just leave you here? Why doesn’t he care? Doesn’t he feel anything for you? You’d had enough. You were sick of this. You were sick of everything.

“Y/N?”

You jumped in surprise and lifted your head from the pillow.

“Castiel.” You began to wipe your eyes but it was no use; he’s already seen you. “Where’s Dean and Sam?” you whimpered. He walked timidly to the edge of the bed and reached his had to your face, smoothing away a tear.

“They’re not here,” he said. He kept his hand on your face.

“I’m okay,” you murmured.

“I know that.”

You didn’t know why–absolutely no idea, but for some reason, you felt comfortable. You felt safe. You didn’t care that you barely knew him. You didn’t care that you were naked under the blanket.

“Cas?” you whispered. You realized you didn’t really know what you wanted to ask him. You just stared into the unfathomable ocean that seemed to have lost itself in his eyes. He really was a masterpiece; unlike any other.

He seemed to understand.

“Move over a little,” he said softly.

You did.

He crawled into the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. You buried you face into his neck and breathed in his irresistible scent. He stroked your hair softly, humming something you were listening to on your phone the other day; an old Woody Guthrie song that your father used to sing to you all the time.

“Castiel?” you murmured, looking up into his eyes.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thank you.”

He pulled you closer, and placed a kiss on your head.

“You deserve this,”

You spent the rest of the night curled, very much naked, in Castiel’s gentle arms. You don’t know what happened to Sam and Dean. Cas told you not to worry, and you trusted him. You really trust him.

Being in his arms. It was nice. It was so nice. You needed that. The love that you felt was enticing; whether it was really there or not, you don’t know. But it is important.

You will never forget that night. Never in a million years. Because you learnt something; some things are not worth fighting for.

But some things certainly are.

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

I've been following you for like five minutes and I'm already blown away by how good of a writer you are! jesus don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

Wow... this just made my week. Thank you so much for saying this, it means the world to me <3 

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

I love you

I love you too, Anon <3

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Sitting by the window and watching the little drops of dew trickle down the glass, racing, I wonder; do they know they don't get anywhere in the end? Do they try with all their might and all their will to finish the race just to find it a dead end? Do they mind? Or perhaps the thrill of it is enough for them. Suppose they do know; why try to win, then? The venture that is the race? Is that it? The precious gift of the present: the undeniable excitement and progression of the most brilliantly terrible, existentially fraught race in existence and time? 

But wait... For time is the race. For existing is the venture. We must race because without it, We are not living. And it is this that we must come to realise before it is too late; 'tis a race, and time's a-ticking.

.— “Acknowledging the Gifts” 

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

A Good Fucking (Day)

Author: CasuallyTwistedUniverse

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 1586 words

Warnings: Rough sex.

Summary: Sam get jealous of the reader sleeping with another guy. Rough sex ensues :P

Authors Note: I actually wrote this a LONG time ago so it’s not my best and also, editing this was a whole lot of cringing at how horny I had to have been to write this.

 _________

 Today was a good day. You and the brothers had had your first day off in over nearly a month and a half. After all the stress of research and hunting and travelling you were all pretty freaking happy to have even one day off. Dean spent his day of freedom with Baby, fixing her up and cleaning out over a month’s worth of fast food wrappers that had crammed themselves in odd places in the Impala. Sam just read the whole day. Said it was relaxing. And you sharpened knives, loaded guns and cleaned weird talismans that Dean said were important. It was less a day off and more a get-ready-for-the-next-hunt type day but still, it was more than needed.

 At about 6 o’clock, you’d decided that you needed a break. A real break. You’d asked Dean, who had been entranced in some soup opera running on the TV if he was up for a drink. He –not surprisingly– was ‘sure as hell ready for a drink and a lady’. You’d asked Sam too but he’d just shrugged and said he was tired. Things between you and Sam hadn’t been all too smooth lately. Not after about a week ago when the ‘incident’ went down. It had been late; maybe 1 in the morning. It was just after a particularly rough hunt. Dean was in the shower and Sam was just finishing up bandaging your arm. You don’t remember exactly what was said, but the next thing you knew, Sam had you pressed up against the wall kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Before you could do anything, Dean had come out of the bathroom.  He hadn’t seen anything though. Luckily. After that, Sam just seemed so distant. I guess he thought it was a mistake.

 Whatever.

 You were horny and annoyed so, at the bar you and Dean had gone, you scanned for the tallest, hottest and most breathtaking man around. Unfortunately, said man was not there, so you settled for an average-height blonde in his thirties named something like Alex. Or maybe it was Andrew. Dean went home with some busty redhead named Charlotte. Or Scarlet. Alex/Andrew had nothing on Sam and it was a long time before he finally got you to cum.

 At about midnight, you left Alex/Andrew who was asleep naked and sprawled out on the bed, and took a taxi back to the motel. You’d sent Sam a text telling him you’d be late that went a little something like this.

Don’t wait up.

I’ll probably be pretty late.

Guess who got lucky :P

 You’d gotten a little drunk… You guess intoxicated Y/N has a hard time remembering appropriate and obvious social decencies towards people you were supposed to be confused/unhappy with.

 When you got back to the motel, you’d expected Sam to be asleep. But he wasn’t. He was standing by the door ominously, staring straight into your eyes.

 "Sam? Is everything okay?" You walked timidly toward him, his face hidden under the shadows the dim light of the motel room cast across his face. "Sam?"

 "Is it true?" he snapped, looking at you. "Did you sleep with some guy?”

 The expression on his face was pure anger. You knew this wasn't going to end well. You thought about lying but quickly realised that it wasn't an option, as he would be able to see right through you like he always did. Curse your poker face.

 "Yes," you said matter-of-factly, and Sam scowled. "What's the big deal? It's not like we're a thing."

 Still with the bitter expression playing on his face, he began towards you. Oh god. What was he going to do? Was he jealous? You thought that what had happened between the two of you was a onetime thing. That he thought the kiss was a mistake. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he wanted more. When he stopped just centimetres in front of you, he lifted your chin with his index finger so you were looking him in the eye, his face as stern as before. He leaned down and you could feel his worm breath on your lips. He was millimetres from your face. Just as you were about to give in to his teasing and close the abiding gap between you, he pushed you back hard against the wall of the motel and pressed his body against yours, trapping you there unable to move.

 "What are you-" you began, before he cut you off, forcing his lips firmly down onto yours. At first you were surprised. Sam really was jealous. He started to press his tongue into the entrance of your mouth and, after the few seconds you took to process what was happening, you parted your lips, and he instantly started exploring. He tasted like coffee and sugar. It was delicious. His left hand started to creep up your side while his right reached down to your ass, kneading it roughly. When he reached your breast, he did the same kneading motion. You moaned into the kiss as he started taking off your top and pulling down your jeans. When you tried to lift his shirt, he grabbed your hands and threw them back against the wall. He still looked angry. He reached down into your panties and started to feel around your clit, making you moan.

 "You like that?" Sam whispered, and you threw your head back against the wall in reply. He inserted two fingers into your tight, wet pussy and without giving you any time to adjust to his giant hands, he began quickly thrusting his fingers inside you.

 "God, Sam!" you moaned, gripping his still clothed biceps. He curled his fingers and began searching for that special spot deep inside you and when he found it, he instantly began rubbing roughly against it. You could feel the coil inside you start to tighten more and more and more and just as you were about to give it all up he pulled out of you.

 "What the hell Sam?!" you yelled, looking at him almost as mad as he looked before. Now he was smirking. Instead of explaining himself, he simply turned around and began towards his laptop. "Sam!" You ran up to him, grabbing his arm to turn him around and slightly squeezing your legs together to try and regain the lost friction. He just looked at you with the same smirk on his face. If this was any other time or any other person you would have been far too angry to even look at them but today, you needed it. And you needed it now. "Please?" You said, looking up at him. His smirk started to grow. "Sam, please? Please? I'll do anything you want just... Please."

 And with that, he picked you up off your feet and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you towards your bed and the moment he put you down, he ripped off his jeans, shirt and underwear. His erection was so big and growing. He was almost instantly on top of you and sucking bruises onto your neck, all the way down to your breasts where he took your bra off, tearing it in two in the process. You moaned and he took your left breast into his mouth, sucking hard and twirling your nipple around with his tongue. Jesus Christ, that tongue!

 "Sam, I need you!" You were definitely begging now and he wasted no more time. He pulled down your panties, throwing them on the floor and lined himself with your entrance. You stared into his eyes as he stared into yours and he pushed into you. Deeper and deeper and deeper. You were so tight and he didn't give you much time to adjust before he started moving. In all honesty, he hurt. But not for long. His length allowed him to reach every single spot in your tight pussy, and it felt amazing. He lifted you up from your back and held you in his lap as you bounced onto him, allowing him to thrust even deeper. Every movement brought pure and utter bliss. His breathing started to quicken. You felt him rubbing against that amazing spot inside you even harder making you moan loudly. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a desperate kiss. His other hand wondered onto your breast and you felt his rough thumb trace over your nipple again and again.

 "God, Sam!" you almost yell, pulling away from his lips and tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

 "Cum for me, baby," he groaned into your ear. And that was all it took. You threw you head back and felt yourself clamp tightly around his huge cock. Strong waves of pleasure travelled right from your core all the way to your toes and fingertips. Sam continued to thrust into you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm before completely letting go himself. He fell forward, so you were on your back and he was on top of you. You felt him twitching and pumping himself inside you, painting your walls as he groaned your name in a raspy voice. Once you had both come down from your highs, he lay on top of you for a few moments before slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you, breathing heavily. He looked over to you and smiled as he began to trace over the little bruises that had formed along your neck.

 "Mine," he whispered.

 "Yours."

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

It may not seem like much, but I just wanted to say thanks for 101 followers <3 Everyone of you is awesome and I appreciate all of the amazing feedback.

Thank you xx

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

It's funny cause the fanfic Coping Mechanism you just wrote is kinda my life and you made me glow inside cause I don't know it's Sam and Dean and it was great writing. Loved it so much. Keep writing and I'll keep reading

Aww I'm glad you liked it :) These messages always make my day 100% better!

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

“That’s the thing about letting go,” said the small Irish man. “Tá tú riamh a dhéanamh i ndáiríre. Though you will try.” He shook his head, smiling at whatever he had said, and carried on down the road in his continued search of his perpetual nirvana.

I watched him for a while, as he disappeared into the morning. You were there too. It was foggy that day so we couldn’t watch him long. But, even after he’d gone, we stood there for a while, just leaning on the fence. I remember this because you’d said something. Some statement about how even wise old men weren't often correct. I didn’t care much because I hadn’t understood what the Irish man had said anyway. But I knew whatever it was must have been important because it was that day you took a little longer in the barn, spoke a little softer at dinner, and your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes that night. Whatever the small Irish man had said changed you that day. Almost how Amar changed 4 months before.

  You weren't quite the same after that.

— “The Small Irish Man” 

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Thank you so much, I really loved the writing and description was basically perfect <3 :)

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it :)

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Coping Mechinisms

Author: CasuallyTwistedUniverse

Reader Gender: Could be both

Word Count: 1649 words

Warnings: Mentions of death, migraine, use of morphine.

Request from while-i-live-i-thrive: Hi I love your writing!<3 can you do a one shot where Sam and Deans recently discovered little sister (about 16) has a chronic illness (diabetes, migraines, whichever you feel comfortable with) that she hides from the boys because she fears they will treat her different. And one day they find her (taking pills/injections, etc.) and force her to explain about her illness, and they make sure that she is healthy but don't restrict her from hunts or anything. i hope you do this sort of thing. Thanks

_________

Eight hours. That’s how long you’ve spent laying on this stupid grungy motel bed. You should’ve seen it coming. All the signs were there; nausea, dysphasia, lack of appetite, irritableness and yet, you hadn’t realised that in less than a day you’d be stuck with a migraine. If you hadn’t of been so damn preoccupied with the case, you could of prevented this! Or at least lessened the symptoms. But, obviously, you hadn’t noticed them, which is why you are the way you are now; covered in sweat, groaning, and exhausted at only 8pm. This isn’t the first time you’d been in this position, of course. In fact, it’s something you've had to deal with for almost 13 of your 16 years. You’ve learned to deal with the illness as you’ve gotten older, taking copious amounts of pills and medications, but when you forget to take these medicines, like today, everything just sucks.

Sam and Dean were at the library researching about some local legend about an old apothecary in town. It was haunted but neither you nor your brothers knew by who, or why. It was quite the mystery.

You usually liked working with your big brother; researching while your other brother complained and whinged persistently and peevishly. But not this time. This time, you’d made up some lame excuse, knowing that you’d just end up puking down the street if you’d gone. There was no way you were going to tell them the truth. Sam and Dean already had their issues with letting you hunt with them; (1) you are 16, (2) you are their responsibility, (3) you are small, but, (4) in the end you’re pretty damn good at what you do and (5) they can’t just keep you in the bunker forever so, (6) all of their excuses are irreverent. But that doesn’t stop them from looking for reasons to put a stop to your ‘reckless attitude’, which is their way of seeing your passion for hunting. You had been careful never to show any weakness towards your brothers. Any valid excuse to keep you out of harm’s way they would take. You’d kept the whole migraine ordeal quiet because, if they knew about it, they’d surely treat you differently. How, you didn’t know but you knew it wouldn’t be the same. It would just be another thing they’d have to worry about and you were enough of a burden already. You did not want them to find out.

But, you might not have much choice.

They’d been gone for a several hours and your migraine had only gotten worse. You’d vomited about seven times already and would be less than a little surprised if it happened again. It is horrible. Hearing a ‘ding’ which sounded more like a ‘BANG’ to you, you shifted your head to see that you’d probably gotten a text as the freaking sun was shining from your phone. But no, it was indeed on ‘dim lighting’ settings, and you were just too messed up neurologically to see anything but the brightest lights, and loudest noises. Much to your distaste, you reached for your phone and read the message with terrible difficulty.

We’ll be back at the motel in 10.

Getting food.

We figured it out and burnt the bones.

Sorry we didn’t call.

Tell you what happened later.

-Dean

Shit. They were coming back. And they were going to find you, groaning in pain, on this stupid, uncomfortable bed.

No. No way. They will not find out.

Taking a deep breath, you dragged your legs off the side of the bed and heaved yourself up. It was quite the ordeal, simply getting to your feet and once you did, you immediately stumbled dizzily toward to toilet and vomited. There was no way you were going to be able to hide this from them.

But you must.

After pulling yourself up again using the towel rack next to the door, you dabbed the sweat from your face with a cloth, brushed your teeth and made your way into the room. Much to your distaste you turned on the light, instantly regretting it when a particularly painful PANG thundered in your head. It felt like somebody had wacked a baseball bat over your head a few hundred times and JUST. KEPT. HITTING. You’d already taken about 5 pills more then you should’ve so you figured if you took more, you would end up in hospital but you hadn’t consumed any alcohol recently so instead, you found a bottle of Deans favourite whiskey and gulped down a few shots. After you’d done so, you realised the fault in your logic. Oh well.  

Just as you collapsed into one of the kitchen’s chairs, you heard the incessant noise of key-in-lock and a second later, Dean walked into the motel room followed by Sam. Dean was carrying a paper bag of what smelt like meat. But everything smelt like meat. You wanted to vomit again.

“Hey Y/N,” said Dean as he dropped the bag on the table. “Guess what?”

Clearing your throat you croaked, “What?”

“The case,” Dean said emphatically as he clapped his hands together. “Is solved.”

Wincing, you reached up a hand and gave a thumbs up. It’s all you could muster.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” asked Sam, concern playing on his face.

“Yeah,” you said smiling the best you could. “Just a little tired. What happened?”

You needed to change the subject.

“Well,” exclaimed Dean, who was already digging into his burger. “Turns out it was the architect that designed the building that was killing all those trespassers. He lived in the basement, loved the place. Died there in the late 1800s. We didn’t have time to come get you. But we would of, of course. Anyway, the cheeky bastard had himself buried in the walls. Took us almost 3 hours to find him…”

Both brothers recounted what had happened, not leaving out a single detail. They knew you liked to be informed, except this time, you wished nothing more they’d just shut the hell up. Sam kept giving you these looks of ‘are you sure you’re okay?’ and you’d give him the look of ‘of course I am, Idiot’. They said they’d save the food you didn’t eat because ‘you’d already eaten’ and, after a long argument between the brothers of Sam wanting to go home and Dean wanting to sleep, Sam finally won and had come to the conclusion that you were going to drive back to the bunker because Sam doesn’t want to “SPEND ANOTHER NIGHT LISTENING TO ROOM 12 HAVE SEX!”.

Before you knew it, you were sitting the back seat of the Impala, as Sam drove and Dean sulked.

Your migraine had gotten worse. You felt like you were going to vomit, and faint, and die. And in that moment, with all that pain, you really wished you could die. You were just so tired, but unable to fall asleep. You were so nauseous, but there was nothing left to throw up. You just wanted to die.

You started to cry. It was more like whimpering then crying but still. You weren’t a big crier. In fact, you’d only ever cried once in front of Sam. Dean had never even seen you cry. He was the first to realise.

“Y/N?” Dean said, timidly.

That’s when Sam turned his head. You heard him curse under his breath before stopping the car on the side of the road.

This is it. They knew. They knew you were weak now and you were never going on a hunt with them again. You didn’t care anymore. You were crying freely now. Dean opened your door and knelt by the impala.

“Y/N,” he said, cupping your face in his hands. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” You could tell he was panicking.

“I can’t–Dean it–it feels like my heads exploding,” you said between sobs.

“Shit. Sam, a little help!” Dean called. Sam was searching a duffle bag, for what, you didn’t know.

“M–migraine,” you sobbed as you buried your face into your hands. Dean rubbed your back gently as he spoke to Sam. A few moments later, Sam was beside you in the back seat of the impala with a needle.

“Wha–”

“Morphine,” Sam said, already lightly massaging the injection site. You rest you head onto Deans shoulder when you felt the needle. When Sam was finished, he disposed of the injection and laid a blanket from the trunk onto your shivering body.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Dean whispered, running his fingers down your hair.

“You didn’t tell us,” said Sam next to you.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to treat me differently,” you murmured.

“Y/N… this–we can deal with this. It’s okay. You’re still the kid who can take down 5 vampires by herself, remember?” Sam said, smiling.

“This doesn’t change anything, alright?” Dean added.

“Thanks… guys” you whispered, closing your eyes.

You felt Sam get back into the driver’s seat, turning on the engine before Dean shifted you slightly as he slipped into the Impala beside you. He pulled you closer until you were curled up under his arm, listening to his steadying heartbeat. It was soothing. It was silent music.

You don’t remember much after that. You suspect that you must’ve fallen asleep, finally. Fallen asleep, safe in your brother’s arms. You didn’t have a single nightmare that night. It was probably the drugs, but that’s not the point.

When you woke up in bed at noon, you were home. Your head was clear too. It was like it’d all been a dream. Looking to your right, you saw Sam hunched over and buried in a book in a chair beside your bed, and Dean was to your left, passed out, drooling on a pillow.

Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

Hi I love your writing!<3 can you do a one shot where Sam and Deans recently discovered little sister (about 16) has a chronic illness (diabetes, migraines, whichever you feel comfortable with) that she hides from the boys because she fears they will treat her different. And one day they find her (taking pills/injections, etc.) and force her to explain about her illness, and they make sure that she is healthy but don't restrict her from hunts or anything. i hope you do this sort of thing. Thanks

Coming soon!

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

YAAAAAAAAS thank you so much that was AMAZING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Your welcome :) Thanks for the request!

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

It Was Entrancing Epilogue

Character: Dean

Author: CasuallyTwistedUniverse

Reader Gender: female

Word Count: 1687 words

Warnings: fluff, Dean being cute.

Request: You need to write a part 4 of it was entrancing omglike maybe a proposal?!??! Just an idea!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

_________

Things change all the time. Shirts, and shoes, and shampoo. Plans and arrangements and meetings. You can change a tire, a bed sheet, a clock. You can change your mind. There are scheduling changes and lifestyle changes. There are changes of state and matter. Thoughts change, feelings change, beliefs change. So can voices and memories.

For the past eight months you had spent living with the Winchesters, you had gone over all these things in your mind. Being with Dean, you had learned several new things about him. You had learnt that (1) he had an incomprehensible appreciation of pie and its general existence (2) He liked sleeping on the right side of the bed, next to the door and (3) Dean was in love with you. You had said it first a couple months after you’d moved into the bunker, just after a case Montana. It’d been a close call and if it hadn't of been for Dean bursting in, guns blazing, you doubted whether either you or Sam would still have all of your appendages. He didn't say it back. Not at first and not for a long time because—as you’d also found—(4) Dean is tremendously terrible at expressing himself. But with time, Dean had told you—sitting next to you on the couch while you were curled into a ball fluttering kisses on his jaw as you so often did—that he loved you. It was so random and he was so scared. You remember feeling completely shocked but at the same time like somebody had sent a beam of warmth through you. There were moments like those every now and then. Moments with Dean or even Sam when you realized that for the first time in your life, you weren't wishing you were somewhere else. You were happy. But was Dean?

About a week ago, you woke up to find that Dean wasn't in the room the both of you shared in the bunker. You spent almost 15 minutes searching for him before you finally found him in the garage, sleeping in the Impala. You had no idea what was going on at first. When you woke him he just made up some lame excuse. You knew he was lying but you didn't push him due to the immense inability he has with verbalizing his thoughts and emotions. So instead you wallowed in your own thoughts and emotions. And it was driving you crazy. Since that morning, Dean has been acting so distant. Sam has noticed as well and so, whenever Dean comes up with some random reason to leave the room when you walk in, he sighs and gives you a look and so you sigh and give him the same look. It was your way of communicating silently with him; kind of like a secret language. You knew that whatever was going on with Dean had something to do with you. You just didn't know what. Everything seemed to be going so great. You thought it had been. Why would he have told you he loved you? Was he lying? You had heard plenty of times that Dean wasn't exactly relationship prone. You’d heard the complete opposite actually. But you thought that, maybe, he’d changed. Maybe you’d changed him. And so, the question, the one question you need answered: Do people change? Many other things do. Why not Dean Winchester? But… What if he hasn't? Perhaps he regrets taking you back to the bunker and letting you fall for him. See, this is what happens when you don’t have answers and have to result to the colossal worry machine that is your brain.

I guess only time can tell.

(Dean’s POV)

Y/N Y/LN: Beautiful, clever, strong, witty. But not perfect. She has flaws. She has plenty of flaws but that’s what I like most about her. She’s more than just a one dimensional person and I've realized her depth over time. I don’t know what it is exactly that made me fall in love with her. I don’t think there’s just one thing. It might be the way she sleeps; curled up small with her breath fanning my neck, or maybe how she can get lost in a book for hours at a time, or how she’s not a morning person. Maybe it’s the way she just understands. The way she thinks… it’s almost like poetry.

God, I’m in love with her. With all of her. And it’s so goddamn conflicting.

Do I want her to be safe, or happy?

Can I keep her safe with me?

She’s strong. She can take care of herself.

That’s selfish!

She wants to be here.

If this ends badly it will be my fault.

It won’t end badly. I won’t let it.

You can’t control what happens.

I can sure as hell try.

My brain hurts. I've been so messed up about all this stuff for almost a week now. I've been such an asshole and I know she knows something’s up. I know Sam knows. I’d had a brief conversation with him a couple days ago;

Sam: What’s wrong with you?

Me: What are you talking about?

Sam: Your being an ass.

Me: Mind your own damn business.

And I walked away. I already know I’m being an ass I don’t need to be reminded by my geek brother.

But I did need to talk to him now.

In the library, Sam sat hunched over some old, thick book, his mouth moving silently as he read.

“Hey, Sam?” I said, sitting next to him. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Uh, yeah, hang on,” he murmured, still reading. I waited about 20 seconds before grabbing the book from his hands, and slamming it shut on the table. “Dean!”

“Just shut up okay? I need to tell you something,” I said. Sam sighed in annoyance but turned to listen anyway. I fumbled with my hands before looking Sam in the eye. “I, uh… I—”

“Just spit it out, Dean,” Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up!”

“Just tell me or leave!” Sam said, starting to raise his voice.

“I’m in love with her, okay!” After I’d said it, I averted my gaze to the dusty, old book on the table. Damn it.

“Dean…” Sam said, his voice softening. “I know you do.”

“You don’t get it I… I really, really… love her,” I said, my hands fidgeting with my shirt. “But she’s not safe here, you know she’s not.”

“She’s not safe anywhere. And besides, she’s different than the others. She knows how to protect herself,” Sam said softly, with a look that can only be described as Sam’s signature puppy-dog eyes. I smiled. “Talk to her, Dean. She’s been working herself up with all these horrible things. You know how much she can worry.”

“Yeah, I know…” I said. I got up from the chair, patting Sam on the shoulder before making my may out of the library, Sam looking for his place in his book.

Sam is right. She is different; she’s a hunter. She does know how to protect herself. She always has. I just wish that she didn't have to. Making her leave me isn't going to set her free like it set Lisa and Ben free. It would break her. At least I think it would. If the roles were reversed I know it would break me. I know it’s selfish, but the thought of her caring about me that much makes me smile.

I've never felt this way about anybody before. Of course I loved Lisa. She was my perfect salvation and chance of a picket-fence life. But what I have with Y/N… This is something that could be forever. She showed me that love still exists after I thought it never could again.

She’s changed me.

After searching for her in the bunker, I finally found her sitting on the couch by the TV, curled as if encased in a cocoon rereading her favorite book again. She just looks so adorable sitting there and I knew that if I wanted, I could just stare at her for hours without her noticing. But we needed to talk.

“Y/N?” I said approaching her. She looked up from her book with wide eyes. She is so beautiful. “Can we talk?” I sat down next to her.

“Sure,” Y/N murmured, folding over the page in her book and putting it on the coffee table. “What’s wrong?” She bit her lip before looking up at me with concern.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I just… I love you,” I said talking her small hands and holding them in mine.

“I love you too, Dean,” she smiled, softly.

“No, Y/N, I mean, I’m going to love you forever,” I said, shifting closer to her.

“Dean—” She whispered.

“Marry me.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open with a look of both shock and awe.

“It probably won’t be anything big. Just Cas and Sam maybe,” I said quickly. “It just that, I love you Y/N. God, I’m in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I jus—you’re so amazing. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’m not that great at saying what I want to say but I’m trying. And I just—”

“Dean,” She said. She was grinning broadly now, tears pooling in her beautiful eyes. “I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

I took her face in my hands and kissed her. I don’t know for sure how long we kissed. In my memory we just kissed and made love forever, until morning. She’d tried telling me how much she loved me, about feeling ‘faint with love’. It was something Hemingway wrote, she’d said.

I don’t know how long we will get. If I had any say at all, it’d be eternity. But I don’t. So, each day after was spent savoring the present. Each day we fought, and loved, and lived.

Each day, until the last day.

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

You need to write a part 4 of it was entrancing omg like maybe a proposal?!??! Just an idea!

Perhaps I'll write an epilogue... 

[casuallytwisteduniverse]

I just started reading 'It Was Entrancing' and omg your writing is awesome. I am patiently waiting for the next part. :) Good day!

Aww thank you! This means the world to me :) 3rd part's up now.