#and now there's TWO angels living in the bunker

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

SAVIOUR

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - When Emmett had the chance of seeing you in the forest, he couldn't resist but to steal you away for himself in his lonely home.

Warnings - dub con, p in v, oral both receiving, cruel treatment, rough.

Notes - accidentally deleted the original post, so here we go again.

The silver lining with this apocalypse is that Emmett would have no distress with you making a noise as he motions you to keep on moving. Your body is shivering, eyes swelling, bare feet aching from the long journey, but you don’t dare to make a sound. The fear of the death angels still being greater than a mere bearded man. 

Despite being kidnapped in broad daylight, it was a beautiful day. The beauty of this difficult situation was, Emmett could walk into your camp, holding a gun to the air with one hand, and his free hand pointing towards you without any worries. There were no negotiations in the matter, Emmett was the only one with a death wish. No followers or you all get to die an agonizing death. Because he has lost it all, but now he could have you. It was an easy guess with what the group had decided upon.

He first saw you through his scope, you and a few other group members were searching for supplies in the same area he was. Emmett became captivated by you the moment he saw you. He stalked you back to your base, there were only a dozen of you guys in an abandoned factory far north of his. He watched you for days, studied you, obsessed over you. 

There were little things Emmett knew of you, but you seemed kind, genuine, naive and you were bewitching to the human eye. Emmett just had to have you, he lived a lonely life, but you provided an opportunity for comfort, contentment, intimacy. 

Entering the factory, your eyes wander around the abandoned space. Emmett picked you up bridal style, and you slid down into his bunker, landing softly on a large pile of sandbags. 

You laid still on him for a moment, he was stroking your flustered cheek as you struggled to find steady breathing. Gently, Emmett slid out from underneath you and stood up to take off his jacket. Laying like a dead fish, you decided to stand up and hopefully bargain with the stranger. 

“Please, let me go home,” you pleaded in a whisper. You weren’t sure how safe it was to speak down here, but it had just become natural to speak at this sound. Emmett turned to you, slowly taking his bandana off, revealing his bearded, dirty face. 

Very naive of you, perhaps a bit too hopeful too, to think that he’d have a sudden change of heart now after that long walk. But you had no clue how obsessed he had become over you in such a short amount of time, and with such little knowledge of you.

“This is your home now” he replied, closing the distance between you two, he brushed your loose hair with the back of his hand. “What’s your name?” Emmett asked. With a whisper, you told him your name, it was smarter to cooperate with him, maybe gain a bit of trust? “Pretty name for a pretty girl, I’m Emmett” he whispered back, his arms wrapped around your lower back. 

You could feel his erection through the denim, his breathing was heavy yet quiet, quickly you found yourself shaking and whimpering against him. Emmett cooed you, rubbing your lower back in attempts to make yourself feel better, completely unaware that he’s the reason you feel so overwhelmed. 

“I’m going to take care of you, okay? I’ll protect you, all you have to do is please me, baby” Emmett had a small smile on his lips, he leant down and kissed your cheek, which trailed down to your neck. 

It was a good deal in his eyes, he’d protect you from the monstrosity once known as humanity and all you had to do was cheer, reassure and relieve him. It would be a romantic future in his eyes, you could read to one another, he’d search for rations and then you’d do the cooking, hold each other closely at night. 

Your sobs were silent, his facial hair brushing against your goosebumps. Emmett took off his cap and dropped it onto the sandbags. His lips hovered over yours, almost as if he was waiting for you to close the small distance. 

Grazing his lips onto yours, he slowly deepened the kiss, his hands moving onto your ass, squeezing tightly. Chest rising and falling, Emmett was groaning into your mouth through sloppy kisses. He was hungry like an animal, and you were to be an endless feast for him.  

“On your knees” Emmett ordered.

Unwillingly, you slowly dropped to your knees, his hands on his shoulders pushing you down, your arms covered your chest and you kept your eyesight away from the restrained bulge in your face. Emmett sighed, his rough hands took their time unbuckling the leather belt, he undid his fly and slid down his jeans enough to be able to see the outline of his cock through his briefs. 

Grabbing onto his bulge, Emmett stared you up and down, clicking his tongue. “Take off your top” he grumbled, combing his hand through his oily hair. Without thinking, you shook your head. Emmett grunted, quickly squatting down and wrapping his hand around your throat. Your nails dug into his hand, but he did not loosen his grip. “You’ll be a good girl, I did not go through all of this fucking effort to have you be a brat, got it?” Emmett snarled by your ear, you were trying to spit out words but failed. “Use your fucking words” his voice was dripping of irritation. 

“Y-yes” you managed to spit out. 

The hold on your throat loosened, Emmett gave a heavy sigh. “Good girl, such a good girl for me. You’re thankful for me, yeah? Saving you from them. If they really cared, they would have done something about it. They’d be willing to die for you, like I am” he spoke with dark eyes. 

It was terrifying, his look was painted with crazed feelings. Emmett stood back up and waited for you to follow his previous order. With shaking hands, you pulled your top from over your head. But that didn’t satisfy Emmett, he glared at you until you realized he wanted you to take your bra off as well. 

The cold air hardened your nipples, and Emmett studied your current appearance. There was this smug look on his face, this is exactly why he went these lengths for you. Slipping his size out of his briefs, his cock tapped your right cheek a couple of times, he was slowly masterbating right by your lips.

You didn’t expect him to be this, large. It was intimidating, being in such close range to his member. You’ve only known him for a few hours, and now he had his dick in your face. His cock was a tone darker than the rest of his skin, he had a lot of pubic hair around the base of his member, for obvious reasons. 

It was self explanatory what was expected of you, you raised your hands and stroked his big size. He let out a satisfied sigh, your hands going right down to the base and coming back up to the head. Reluctantly, your lips hovered over the tip. You could see the precum drip, you had to close your eyes to swirl your tongue around his tip, slowly going deeper down his length.      

“Ah, ah, yeah… Such a good girl” Emmett smiled, gently thrusting his member in and out of your mouth. “Nothing better for your mouth to do, then to please my cock” his eyes were lightly rolling back. 

After a couple of minutes of gentle sucking, Emmett started to force his cock into your mouth, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. You gagged against him, resisting the urge to bite down on him, he was lightly grunting, mumbling words under his breath with his jaw clenched, watching you below him as you struggled to breathe. 

Holding onto the back of his legs for support, he held the back of your head to keep you still. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, eyes stinging as you just tried to focus on your breathing. After what felt like an eternity of pain, he grumbled, his hips locked forward as he came in your mouth. 

Trying your hardest not to react to the salty taste, Emmett slowly pulled him out of your mouth, your jaw aching and tears running down your eyes. Gently stroking his cock, Emmett looked down to you and placed his hand softly on your heated cheek. 

“That was lovely” Emmett slowly praised you. He helped you up and picked you off the ground.“You deserve to feel special too” Emmett continued, walking down the bunker. 

Emmett laid you on the singular bed and tugged your pants and underwear off together, he pulled his soiled shirt off and crawled on top of you. He smelt lightly of body odor, his breath was hot by your ear and chest felt moist from the sweat. Elbows resting on either side of your head, he gave you a gentle kiss, you didn’t kiss him back. 

“Don’t be so stiff” Emmett grunted, quickly you kissed him back. 

His hand trailed over your inner thighs, reaching all the way up to your entrance, you hadn’t even realized how wet you had become. A wicked grin grew on him as he parted your slick lips with two fingers. 

“Ugh, is this because of me?” Emmett toyed, his finger circling around your clit, you took in a heavy breath, trying to remain content underneath your assaulter. “Don’t make me feel so special” Emmett clicked his tongue, feeling up your breast with his spare hand. 

Without letting you know, he pushed in two fingers at once, chuckling at the tight feeling against them. You bit back a cry of pain, his nails were poorly trimmed, they scraped against your soft walls as they curled inside of you, Emmett noticed your uncomfortable expression and pulled his fingers out. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Emmett asked, actually sounding concerned about you. 

“It hurts” you said honestly, a part of you wondered if you should have just lied instead. Emmett looked at his soaked nails and sighed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll have to trim them better. Here, I have an easy solution” he winked to you as if you wanted to be in this predicament. 

Emmett whispered sweet words as he slid down the bed. He was on his knees, bent over, his beard brushing against your entrance. You shrieked at the first lick, Emmett’s head shot up and he pressed his finger to his mouth. With a heavy gulp, you dug your face into the pillow. His tongue swirled all around your lips, you were moaning against the pillow, and it still wasn’t quiet enough for Emmett’s likings, even though Emmett wants nothing more than to hear your screams, he didn’t exactly what you two to die horrible deaths before he could make you come. 

Emmett sighed and got up, you looked up to him, your eyebrows furrowed as he crawled on top of you, his exposed cock inches away from your mouth. Twirling himself around, Emmett lowered his body closer to yours, he moved his sticky member away from your mouth, allowing his balls to easily slip into your mouth. He gripped onto your thighs and pressed his head into your cunt. 

Your moans vibrated around his balls, making his cock twitch, your head was locked in between his still covered legs, the denim rubbing against your ears. It wasn’t hard for him to get you already onto the edge. His tongue was deep inside of you, being pulsated by your walls. Emmett was groaning into your cunt, your eyes all swelled up by your orgasm desperately begging to break free. With one last deep push, your cunt clenched around his tongue for dear life as your loud moans of pleasure were blocked by his balls. 

With shaking legs, your orgasm wore off, slurring with your mouth still full. Pulling his head away, his beard was soaked in your juices. Emmett sighed as he softly climbed off of you, just to turn himself back around and pin you down, hands above your head. Your eyes were tired, breathing slow and heavy as he aligned his tip with your entrance. It took you a moment to even realize that this wasn’t over yet. 

He covered your mouth with his hand as he pushed himself inside of you, it only took a couple of thrusts until he was completely inside of you, he was mumbling by your ear as his pace slowly picked up. 

“Such a good little girl for me” he smiled, his beard brushing against your flustered cheeks. “See why I had to save you? I can take care of you baby, fulfill your needs, just like you can fulfill mine” he smiled like a cheshire cat. 

You were whining against his size, you’ve never been with someone so big before, his cock was twitching inside of you. Emmett wouldn’t be able to last as long as he’d want to, it’s been so long since he’s felt such an intimate touch. But he had to be able to make you come again before he’d allow himself to explode inside of you. 

Moaning your name by your ear over and over again, he started attacking your bundle of nerves by thrusting at a quick and strong speed. You were clenching against him, eyes rolling back as you struggled to breathe, the side of his index finger pressing up against your nostrils. 

“My sweet thing needs to come again?” Emmett moaned, his mouth wide open as he stared into your teary eyes. “Come around my cock, make me feel good aye?” Emmett ordered, his finger rubbing your clit perfectly. 

Shortly after that, you followed his demand and clenched tightly around his size. It sent vibrations down his length, right to his base. With a few more heavy thrusts, he exploded right down your womb. A heavy groan echoing through the room. His head was in the crook of your neck, planting wet kisses on your skin. 

Burying his cock all the way up to your cervix, his substance coated your walls, his base blocking anything to drip out of your entrance. Emmett was groaning quietly, slowly removing his moist hand from your mouth. 

You took a deep breath, the back of your head pressing into the mattress, Emmett raised his head and gave you gentle kisses among your face as you dozed off to sleep, with him still buried inside of you. 

[zepskies]

Love, By Any Other Name

Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader

Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.

AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜

**Also, this is set during season 12.

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.

“Achooo!!”

Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”

Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”

You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.

You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.

“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.

Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”

You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.

“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.

Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.

“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.

The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.

“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.

Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.

He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.

You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.

“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”

He sends you a droll look. “No.”

You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”

He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.

“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.

“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.

“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.

You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”

“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”

…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.

“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.

Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”

At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.

“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.

Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

Your lips purse. “What?”

He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.

“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”

You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.

“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.

He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”

“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.

Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.

You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.

“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.

“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”

“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”

“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.

You smile thinly. “Great.”

You hate werewolves.

Correction: you really hate werewolves.

The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.

The irony.

Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.

“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.

“Cas!” he calls out roughly.

The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.

Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.

“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor. 

Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.

Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you. 

Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.

“You good?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.

You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”

Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.

Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.

Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car. 

You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.

Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.

Idiots.

Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.

You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.

About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters. 

But of course, it quickly goes to shit.

The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.

When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.

And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed. 

You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!

“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.

With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down. 

“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.

Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.

A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety. 

Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.

“…No.”

When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it. 

You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.

Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.

“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”

No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.

“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”

You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side. 

The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.

All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can. 

He disappears before you can spit at him. 

“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it. 

Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel. 

“Crowley’s right. You should go.”

Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”

“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”

His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary. 

“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down. 

Dean voices what you’re all thinking.

No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says. 

“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.

But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash. 

Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel. 

He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery. 

But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves. 

Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.

Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.  

“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously. 

Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.

He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow. 

Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window. 

The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown. 

Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker. 

You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head. 

Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder. 

“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.

“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.  

Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”

“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”

Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman. 

“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.

So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”

“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify. 

Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.

 “Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.

Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state. 

Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing. 

He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.

Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.  

You look up when he enters the room.

He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.

You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.

“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.

“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.

“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.

“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”

You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes. 

“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer. 

“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”

You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”

He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.

“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile. 

But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it. 

“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.

You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.

He takes a peek at your face. 

“Are you angry?” he asks. 

Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him. 

“No. Why?” 

Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”

The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh. 

“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence. 

Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.

“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”

You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you. 

Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there. 

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”

You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.

You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself. 

You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.

It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.  

He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency. 

He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.

You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…

Or maybe here is privacy enough.

You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.

He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.

But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.

It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes. 

“Cas,” you breathe in content. 

He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”

You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”

Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”

“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.

“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”

Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage. 

“Yes,” he says. “And no.”

With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free. 

“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”

Anywhere, his heart says.

But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.

Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.

You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks. 

In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…

Because it might just take all night.

AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘

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[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[kidasthings]

Echoes of Eden by Kida

Noa x Mae - #illbewithyoufromdusktilldawn

Chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751482584388829184/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Chapter 5

“I think we are being watched.”

A pair of brown eyes widened in alarm and Mae’s companion stopped mid-chew.

Mae held a single digit up to her lips, signaling for silence. She motioned up towards the branches above, indicating the problem was coming from that direction.

The one being shushed lifted his head, turned it sideways, and listened attentively.

“Hear that?” Mae whispered.

The telltale sign of talons on tree bark broke the quiet. Scritch, scritch, scritch.

The woman’s friend flared his nostrils, agitated.

Both listened for a bit more, but once the woodland symphony resumed, Mae relaxed. The small vellus hairs on the back of her neck no longer stood on end; her suspicions on the origin of the voyeur were further confirmed when she heard the distant cry of a hawk in the northern skies.

Mae reached out, smoothing her palm down her horse’s long neck. The animal began to resume chewing, head held high, ears pricked. “It’s gone.”

Biscuit let out a whuff of relief and dipped his head to the ground. He began lipping at the short grass surrounding the tree she had tied him to; the tired woman made a mental note to relocate him. Earlier, she had made a short visit to the meadow where the other horses were stationed to let Biscuit drink. The horse had readily consumed half the contents of the water basin before Mae surmised that the old idiom wasn’t holding its weight in … well, water.

Apparently, you could lead a horse to water and make him drink.

..If he was thirsty enough.

Mae untied Biscuit from the live oak and led him towards a pepper tree with long, sweeping tendrils. There was enough room on one side to provide good shade, while on the other the sun reached the earth and produced deeper, thicker grass. The human adjusted the length of the lead so her mount could access both sides, tying it off in a tree knot.

She patted his flank approvingly. “Just stay there until we can get you to the stream.”

The bay gelding merely snorted and swished his tail before presenting her with his hindquarters.

One side of Mae’s face hitched up.

It was late in the day now, and the longer shadows cast by the setting sun had her weary bones aching for some sort of relief. It would be nice to get out of her stiff, grimy clothes and take care of a few hygienic necessities. Travel never smelled good on anyone. While scouting for more water sources for Biscuit, Mae took the time to circle the perimeter of her camp and radiate outward.

She had briefly considered the lake, but that was too exposed for her needs. She needed a smaller outlet, something more private and easily accessible. Not two-hundred paces further south did she hear the soft burble of a brook, upon initial inspection. Following the sound to the southwest, she came across a small stream that further widened the longer she walked. After forty minutes or so she discovered a small falls where eddies of swirling water pooled momentarily at the top. Here the water was a little over mid-waist deep.

A perfect spot for bathing. Success.

Mae took comfort where she could; she was not one who could access a bunker or underground hideaway. Those options had been revoked once she discovered her immunity after taking up with her parents’ mission to stop a simian despot bent on acquiring old human technology. Sure, she still assisted her people who lived in the bunker near the ruins of the city once known as Los Angeles, but they would never allow her back inside.

No humans, immune or not, were ever allowed inside once they left. It was too great a danger for those living within the bunker to risk exposure.

She remained a vagabond, not part of this natural world or the sheltered one she grew up in. Mae had been sentenced to die the moment she stepped outside with her parents; their mission to end Proximus Cesear and his machinations had been ultimately successful.

For her, anyway.

Not so much for her parents. After escaping capture from the coastal ape kingdom, both had bled from their noses for many days. Soon they succumbed, destined to become mute, dumb beasts, but her father had not allowed it.

Mae could still hear the double pop of a silencer in a meadow not too far from their campsite. She had arrived far too late at their shared camp after bagging a deer for dinner.

Aggrieved, she had no time to bury them; Sylva and his hunting party started hunting her.

Mae found she had to stifle a choked sob. Shaking her head, she willed the memories to the back of her mind and shifted her recollection to more current events.

Not long after, starved and desperate, she came across an ape village and decided to steal to survive. Her stomach had turned on itself for days, her body was frozen, and she thought nothing of taking a horse blanket and some cooked fish.

And then she found Noa. Or he found her.

A ghost of a smile skated across her lips, and she retraced her steps back to the waterfall, leaving her current campsite at the edge of the village – and in Biscuit’s capable hooves.

A little reminiscing did wonders to shorten the walk, and soon she stood before the inviting pool of water at the top of the small waterfall. Mae turned in a full circle, debating just how comfortable she was with bathing.

The air was warm, if a bit humid. The forest was still filled with birdsong, and the rough rumble of the falls lulled her into a sense of safety she rarely felt anymore.

Mae removed her short jacket first, confirming the outline of the key remained in her interior pocket. Her hand brushed across Caesar’s medallion on the way out, causing her to wince.

Quickly, she neatly folded the outerwear and reached for her tunic next. It slid easily up and over her head, revealing an off-white chest binding. From there she shimmied out of her pants, slipping them off leg by leg. Beneath that was a simple, woven undergarment that was the same shade as her binding. It was said that once upon a time these things were made of softer material like cotton, but agricultural practices had been severely stunted when the last of the non-feral humans were driven underground. Other plants that grew easily under artificial light, like hemp, had taken their place when it came to creating clothing.

Tellingly, she left the medallion hanging from her neck.

Once everything was set out against a warm, flat rock, Mae took stock of her lean form. She ran a hand over a jutting hip bone, the piano keys of her prominent ribs, and the deep indent of her collarbone. Scars littered her body, some still forming from the previous few months. Beneath her untrimmed fingernails, grime collected. Mae’s eyelids lowered, a frown forming on her face.

The first step into the swirling waters felt like pure bliss. Mae sank down, eyes fluttering shut as she sat in the water with the sun-warmed boulder at her back. The water was cold, yes, but it made her feel temporarily weightless. She felt her body relax, buoyed by the strength of the current. It was not long before she was ducking down below, fingernails scratching at her scalp as she scrubbed her greasy hair.

No soap, but she did her best to improve upon hygiene with what was available. She scrubbed at her skin furiously with sand from the streambed, starting with her arms to the very tips of her toes. When she resurfaced with a great gasp of air, a fluttering of wings not a few feet away alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone.

Mae’s eyes rounded out in their sockets, then normalized when she realized it was Noa’s eagle, Sun. He perched on one of the low stones edging the opposite side of the stream, cocking his head at her as if he might deduce the reason for her impropriety. Mae bit her lip and splashed at the bird half-heartedly.

“Go bother someone else,” she said, effectively dismissing him. She propped herself up against the rock at her back, upper arms spread out with elbows at right angles, forearms pointing down. She shook her wet hair, sending water droplets scattering in the air like iridescent prisms.

The eagle hopped forward a couple of times, shifting his head so that he gave Mae a side-eye.

She returned it, then laughed a little. “Did he send you here to spy on me?” she asked, feeling a rare moment of levity.

The eagle opened his beak.

“Yes.”

Mae spun around in the water.

Now at her back, Sun hissed and took to the air. Noa stood on the grassy bank before her, so close she could see the amusement in his expression. He held out his arm, and his bonded eagle alighted there, wings unfurled for balance.

“Noa!”

Noa said something in muted tones to the bird on his arm. Sun ducked his head, puffed his feathers, and nipped warningly at Noa’s closest ear before leaping off the ape’s arm. He became airborne quickly, swooping past a stunned human woman still partially concealed in the stream. Gaining height, he was soon lost to the clouds.

Noa watched the bird until he was nothing but a small dot in the sky before relaxing both shoulders and approaching Mae with open curiosity. Her discarded clothing did not escape his notice; the brunette, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten she was only partially clothed until that last, terrible second.

“T-Turn around!” she stuttered, dropping to the deepest part of the pool. She made a spinning motion with her hand to illustrate her request, the other strapped firmly over her chest.

To Noa, a creature that did not burden himself with the concept of nudity, the entreaty was odd indeed. “Why?” he asked, frozen mid-step.

“I-I don’t have my clothes on! It’s not right,” Mae informed him impatiently, making that circular motion with her finger once more in the air. “Turn around.”

Noa looked exasperated, but also intrigued. For the first time he glimpsed Mae without clothing, save for a few scant pieces. She was oddly designed, especially for an ape: the human female sported two prominent mounds on her chest that remained there without the need for lactation, a hairless body with pale, soft skin easily cut like the underbelly of a fish, and a strange, flat face. Other oddities included the long terminal hair growing from her head, the lack of a rounded, pink rump that signaled estrus, and short forelimbs on vertically statured body.

She couldn’t climb, wasn’t very strong, and her small, flat teeth didn’t allow much room for eating tough meat.

She was so unlike an ape that he could only come to one possible conclusion.

Mae was ugly.

And yet –

..she wasn’t.

There was something hypnotizing about her large, crystal blue eyes and her animated features. Each expression was more generous than the last, conveying most of her emotions all too clearly. This was not as easy on one of his kind, whose features were less mobile in quality. It captivated him, repeatedly, trying to read the minute moods that drifted over her countenance like cumulus clouds on a windy day.

There was a grace in her. Not unlike that of a deer, her long legs allowed her to move with a fluidity none of his people possessed.

There were other qualities that he found admirable, too. She was intelligent, frighteningly so, and the depth of that intelligence was still a mystery to be solved. Despite her ever-changing face he could not always decipher what she was thinking, or what she might do next. She was a conundrum. He could trust her in some things, but not in others. She had saved Soona’s life, but then endangered all of their lives. For Raka she might have laid down her own. Would she do the same for him?

What did it all mean?

Puzzled and deeply uneasy by that dangerous line of thought, Noa turned away. He heard Mae step out of the water and imagined the water sluicing down her hairless body as she stood.

Behind Noa, Mae shook out her clothes with trembling fingers and hurriedly dressed. She had not expected him to find her here, not in her wildest dreams. Grimacing, the human woman removed her soaked chest binding and tossed it on the drying rock before she pulled on her tunic and jacket. Double-checking on the presence of the hidden key with a quick pat, Mae kept her piercing eyes on Noa’s furred back as she stripped out of her wet underwear.

Noa began to turn back around.

“HEY!” Mae shrieked, one leg in her trousers as she hopped awkwardly on the other.

Noa jumped, but obediently (and quickly) turned his attention back to the tree line.

It took a few more minutes, but Mae eventually got her pants up and secured at her waist before she collected her wet bindings. She hated being naked beneath her clothing, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

“You can turn back around,” Mae stated crisply.

Noa shook his head, turned, and shot her a small, gentle smile.

Mae found her mouth run dry.

“Uh,” she began intelligently, “what are you doing here?” She could feel her heart rate pick up, running a breakneck race with the thoughts galloping through her head.

“Sun,” Noa said, pointing to the darkening navy blue above them. “He led me … here. Are you … alright?”

“Of course.” The reply was brusque, and inwardly Mae winced when Noa looked taken aback by her tone. “I mean, I wanted to get clean.” She motioned sheepishly at the stream.

Noa nodded, swallowing. Despite the fur covering his throat, she could see his version of an Adam’s apple bob a couple of times.

“Are you sleeping … out here?”

Mae found herself dropping her eyes to the ground before her. She smiled wistfully. “No, I’m staying at the edge of camp, near my horse.”

Noa opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead he looked away and switched tactics. “Come,” he told her simply, motioning over his shoulder for her to follow as he started heading for the forest. “I will … walk with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Noa,” Mae said, a little annoyed that he thought her unable to find her way home. She clutched the damp bindings to her jacket, transferring the wetness there. That only served to annoy her further, so she made a sound of frustration that had Noa glancing back over his shoulder with a raised brow ridge.

She shook her head at him, motioning for him to lead the way. He did, and the two advanced back to the game trail that led to the edge of the stream. They walked quietly through the woods, fireflies winking in and out of existence like dying stars. The crickets and frogs began to sing, a mulled chorus that accompanied them on their journey. A fox ran across the trail before them, a flash of red that dove beneath the underbrush. It was such a clear, pure night that Mae could not help but to take in a deep, steadying breath. Noa moved ahead of her, not too far, and she took the time to examine him from behind.

He was such an anomaly, really. Mae didn’t know many personalities as altruistic as his. No, scratch that, she knew of no one as selfless as he. It was an undeniable dichotomy, that unselfish nature found in none other than an ape rather than a human being. It had her questioning the best and worst qualities in her own species, comparing them against him, a monkey.

And yet, not.

Mae could not consider Noa conventionally attractive in any sense, not with that low brow, flat nose and body coated in thick hair. She could not understand her body’s reactions to him whenever he was near, the heightened heart rate and awareness that made her want to lean closer. It was terrifying, those reactions, and more than a little deviant.

Shit.

She couldn’t be attracted to an ape, surely. It had to be his giving nature, the security and trust he so blindly offered repeatedly that drew her like a moth to a flame.

She looked up to him and valued noble qualities that were hard to come by in a world where humanity had fallen. It was as simple as that.

Mae tipped her head to the side, a fall of dark, damp hair falling over one shoulder. Overhead, the dark shape of a nocturnal bird spread its wings and soared over them both. She swore she could hear the hoot of an owl.

Chewing her lower lip in contemplation, Mae concluded that she was just too tired to be considering these abstract, impossible thoughts.

After all, humans and apes were not the same. Humans and animals did not mix, no matter how smart they were. Noa was other, another species, and she should not be humanizing him.

Noa slowed down now that they were closer to the village. “You can stay … with me … in case of rain?” he offered, pointing upwards.

Mae saw no clouds, but his offer threw her off.

“You want me to stay with you?”

“It is safer … than outside in the woods.”

Mae chewed the inside of her cheek. It would be nice to be out of the wind and elements. Without realizing it, she blurted, “Okay.”

Noa gave her a tight smile, then made a motion with his hand to divert left.

-And Mae was left standing there, adrift like a buoy at sea, unable to understand why she was the beast and he the beauty.

Notes: Last preview chapter to be posted to Tumblr! If you want regular updates, please read the story over on AO3: Echoes of Eden - Chapter 1 - Kidasthings - Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SUMMER’S STELLAR GAZE

SUMMARY : part III of gimme half. on a mini-roadtrip to the bunker for something dean left behind, she decides to test dean’s word and his promises.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit (18+), fluff, Dean isn’t allergic to cats in this universe bc wtf, blowjob, hair pulling, dirty talk, road head, risky business 

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : silverstein song title. so yeah, I love Dean forever and ever actually, just like I wrote in my diary when I was ten. Omniscient POV to reader’s POV like a good ol’ movie. Xxxxxx

Dean sort of wanted to impress her. 

She was a hunter, like him, after all. 

If he showed her the Bunker, he hoped she'd be impressed; by him, by it, he really hoped so. There was a lot about the Bunker that impressed him when he’d gotten there. The dungeon, the showers, the lore, the garage, the kitchen, everything. That was his first thought when Sam asked Dean for some boxes of the kitchen items he’d left behind since they couldn’t bring everything with them. Dean saw the opportunity to show off. 

The past two weeks went by quickly. They were together now. Shared a New Years kiss at the behest of Eileen, Jack, and even tiny, baby Dean. 

Sam and Eileen were like kids with Barbie and Ken dolls, thrilled to make their favourite couple kiss at last. Cas and Jack were stunned at the discovery that two of them hated each other at first, but they were happy to see that Dean was happy.

It all just came together, somehow, after falling apart so messily. Her and Dean. Their lives.

It was natural for her to be around all of them. Dean forgot that it was him she had a problem with at first. It made it easy for Dean and hard for him all at once. They knew her better than he did and she knew them well, too.

They began bonding over hunting stories when he told Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack that she was also a hunter; she'd ask Cas and Jack a dozen questions whenever she could after finding out they were angels—the other, a nephilim. Sometimes, he’d catch a glimpse at Cas’ phone notifications and see what she asks him with a smile on his face. 

They’ve all been hanging out because of the holidays. She stayed with him during the weekends because he asked her to. He met her family, it was terrifying since they just started… dating… but her family was funny and kind to him. It eased his nerves, but they told him they’d heard of him from other hunters. He knew he was safe, hunters mostly liked him and his brother… except for the parts where they were at fault for all the bad stuff. 

Miracle was happier than ever to have his friend back, her Cat, Bubbles. Dean had a feeling Sam and Jack would take Miracle over to her place or maybe Miracle and Bubbles truly still remembered each other. 

Things are better, hotter now that they are together, more than when they were enemies. Dean was just beyond happy that he had her, that they talked about it… sort of. 

“You listen to the same music as my big brother,” she chuckled from beside him, the box of cassette tapes resting on her lap as she riffled through them. Dean smiled, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at her momentarily. 

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back to the road as they drove into the long, wintry, still-green forest that would lead them to the Bunker. 

“Yeah, I grew up on all of this music. My dad even loves Led Zeppelin,” she told him distractedly, staring at the clear plastic box labelled as Led Zeppelin. She shrugged and inserted the cassette tape into the deck of the car, Bonzo’s Montreux playing softly. 

“You get more and more awesome the more I get to know you,” he told her, biting his lip when he looked over at her. She pursed her lips as she smiled, entertained by his flirty, deep voice and his suggestive wink. 

“Awesome?” She smirked, putting the box back into its place. He turned to look at her once more, but he couldn’t look away from the softness and mischief in her eyes the whole time. 

“Perfect?” He offered, glancing away from her, taking in the big green trees he’s already familiar with. “Kissable? Hotter?” He suggested, smiling coquettishly. “Mmm, extra fuckable?” She looked at him through her lashes, her cheeks pink, and her breath unstable. 

Dean shifted in his seat and sat up straight, looking away from her arousing fuck-me gaze with his fingers tightening around the black steering wheel of his heavy car. Heat flooded the area between her legs at his reaction. Her clit pulsed in pace with her heartbeat and she bit her lip. A million ideas streamed through her mind. A million ideas to relieve the need she had to be fucked by Dean once more. 

The tension in the car was nearly as thick as the first night they had sex, it made her breathless, her heart pounded heavily with lust in her chest, and her pussy squeezed around nothing, instantly remembering the sex they had in his garage before they left.

She placed her hand on his thigh and he inhaled sharply, quickly turning to look at her with a deep blush on his face. Dean relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and held it with only one hand, to put one of his hands over hers. She bit her lip and watched the side of his gorgeous face as he guided her hand higher. 

She smiled brightly and lifted her hand beneath his to smack his hand away. He chuckled, taking a quick glance over at her playfulness. 

“You said you’d fuck me anywhere, at any time,” she leaned over slightly, placing her arms on top of the seat, and resting her chin on her crossed arms. He glanced at her, exhaling shakily as she held his gaze through her lashes. “You promised me a lot of things, actually,” she moved her hand away, tracing his jaw with her fingers. His eyes fluttered shut. “Dean…” she murmured, moving her fingers up to his lips, and he opened his eyes before he could swerve too far from the road. “I recall a few things you seemed to really like.” 

She leaned forward suddenly, licking his earlobe mischievously. Dean moaned softly, his eyelids heavy with lust, and his eyes clouded over with arousal. 

“Like making me choke on your cock,” she whispered into his ear, dragging her lips down his neck. He groaned softly and shuddered, squirming as he attempted to focus on driving. “I want you in my mouth, Dean,” she purred, sliding her hand down his chest and stomach slowly, “right here, right now.”

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, lifting his hips up into her hand when she cupped his cock over his jeans. She sucked gently at his pulse, making the faded mark on his neck return. “Yes,” he whispered, biting his lip hard. 

“I love when you get hard for me, baby,” she murmured, squeezing his cock. 

“I need you,” he rasped, “I want to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me.” She laughed softly, unbuckling herself from the seat and then him. He chewed on his lip and focusing on driving as he got closer to the Bunker while she unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips after she unzipped his jeans, allowing her to lower them slightly until his cock was free. 

“You’re aware of how blessed you are, right?” She teased, biting her lip, sliding her fingers up his cock. Dean gasped and then he laughed breathlessly, his dick twitching at her delicate touch. 

“I’m aware of how much you like my dick?” He smiled down at her shyly. She licked her lips, and rolled her eyes at his modesty. She kissed the tip, then gently placed her hand around the base to kiss her way down.

“Have you heard the sounds I make when you fuck me?” She whispered against the velvety skin of his cock. He grunted softly when she flattened her tongue and licked her way back up. “I don’t make those often, by the way,” she said casually, swirling her tongue around the tip. 

“Here I thought you were a good girl,” he breathed out, lowering one hand into her hair, to try and push her down on his cock. She squeezed his cock, jerking her hand up and down quickly, then sucked on the tip hard, causing him to choke on a moan. She pulled away with a loud suckling sound that made him curse under his breath.

“I went over to your place without underwear, and then I asked you to talk dirty as I sucked your dick, and then I begged you to cum inside me. What part of all that made you think I was a good girl?” She lapped the precum that beaded from his tip, her mouth watering at the taste of him. 

“The morning after,” he answered softly, his emerald eyes flickering to hers. She stopped licking his cock momentarily to consider his words, the tenderness in his voice causing her stomach to flutter. It was things like this, his words, his actions… things like that about Dean that aroused her even more. 

She moaned appreciatively, lowering her mouth over his dick, then pulled up almost all the way off, repeating the motion, and then began sucking, and licking. He moaned her name softly, struggling to focus on driving such a heavy car, but she noticed the slower speed. 

She took him deeper into her mouth, gagging slightly when he touched the back of her throat. Dean moaned out a curse, tightening his grip on her hair, pushing her up and down his cock faster. She moaned softly around him, letting him guide her as she sucked her way up his cock, her tongue moving along the underside of his length. Occasionally, her throat constricted around his length as she swallowed. 

His hitched breath made her wetter, throaty groans, and desperate grunts made her clit pulse uncomfortably in her warm dress pants. She reached down to press her fingers against her clit and took him all the way down her throat. His hips bucked upwards and the leather around the wheel squeaked under his tight grip, but he never pulled too roughly on her hair. 

“Holy fuck,” Dean grunted as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock when she got to the leaking tip and sucked the taste of his precum. Then, she began to twist her hand around him, following the path of her mouth up and down, until she heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath the wheels of the car, and the Impala coming to a complete stop. 

Dean relaxed completely as he set the car in park, leaning his head backwards. The sounds of his pleasure and the wet sound of her mouth and throat getting fucked competed for volume. Dean lifted his shirt and gazed down at her, thrusting his hips up faster into her mouth.

She blinked away tears to stare into his eyes, her cheeks and ears burning hot, her jaw and lips sore from taking him. She moaned softly again, letting him push his cock up into her throat, catching the blurred ecstasy on his face. His red lips trapped between white teeth, his freckled cheeks rosy, and his brows furrowed. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he panted, lovingly moving her hair from her pink and wet face. She hummed around him in approval and closed her eyes, focusing on bringing him closer to his climax. Dean’s thrusts began to stutter and he started to get more vocal, arousing her further. “God, I love your mouth,” he whispered, thrusting upwards hard as he came in thick, hot spurts down her throat. “Fuck, yeah,” he moaned, shuddering at the feeling of her swallowing around him. 

Dean pulled her off him despite not finishing, his cum dripping down his cock despite her best efforts to collect everything. That seemed to be the purpose. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with his tongue poking between his teeth, looking both cute and sexy. 

“What?” She asked, and kept tugging at his cock as his cum dribbled down from the slit, and over her hand. She tightened her hold around the heat of him in her wet hand. She bit her wet, swollen lip, and sat up, slowly stopping the strokes of her hand to watch him. 

Dean leaned forward to kiss her all of the sudden, her heart lurching in her chest, the way it always did when he kissed her. He held her jaw, licking her spit and his cum from her lip. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her face closer, meeting her warm tongue with his. She let go of his dick, and smiled against his mouth, before pulling away.

Dean chased her lips, but she pushed his chest roughly so he stayed pressed against the seat, laughing quietly. He smiled leaning forward anyway, his nose brushing against hers, lips agonisingly remaining a few millimetres away from hers. 

“Can we have sex in your old bed?” She whispered, tugging gently at his jacket, her lips brushing against his. He panted against her mouth, whining softly in attempts to make her kiss him. 

“Yes, whatever you want,” he responded quietly. 

She hummed when she kissed Dean once more; a passionate, long, and deep kiss with tongue and teeth that made her needier. She helped readjust him as they made out, a hot and breathy exchange before heading back on the road to the Bunker.

➥ closer than this

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[lixzey]

a leo valdez x child of dionysus!reader story/headcannons would cure my depression rn🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️(maybe best friends to lovers ? )

sorry for being so vague but there just isn’t enough appreciation for leo i need anything 😭😭

thank u i love your works btw

i wanna teach you how forever feels !

leo valdez x daughter of dionysus!reader headcannons <333 friends to lovers

leo valdez x dionysus!reader headcannons <33

a/n: so sorry if this is too long 😭 i got carried away 🫣 i hope you like it!

• you and leo met the day after his quest to save hera along with jason and piper. you had just came back to camp after spending a dreadful christmas back at your mortal relatives' place, and you weren't in the mood to deal with anyone's bullshit. but you bump into him, walking back to cabin nine from spending most of the day at bunker nine. leo starts apologizing again and again, keeping his head down for the duration of it. the holidays were really not the best times for him, having spent most of them alone. you forgive him, of course. it was the holidays after all, and you were pretty sure that he didn't need you being mean and all on the day he felt he most alone

• after that little interaction, you went to go look for him at cabin nine or bunker nine. he was shocked, to say the least.

• “what are you doing here miss...?” he asks all awkward, almost hitting himself in the face with his hammer bcs he was twirling it in his hand trying to act normal.

• you laugh at him, which makes him blush so bad to the point that he could compete with a strawberry down at the patches. he thinks that you sound so angelic, not knowing your other side yet

• speaking of that other side,

• the moment he found out who your godly parent was, he nearly lit the whole bunker ablaze. you were mr d's kid, oh he thought that he would be in so much trouble for being so close to, his only daughter

• it was a recipe for disaster, honestly

• but who was leo without a little disaster here and there?

• you and leo grow close over time

• because you literally hung out at bunker nine almost every day, helping him out even though you didn't know shit about building a literal war ship.

• and if you aren't there, leo would look for you so the two of you could hang out for a bit before going back to your respective camp duties

• the two of you bonded over fire, suprisingly

• you've been drawn to fire since you were young, something about flames dancing just fascinates you

• leo opens up about how his mother passed, which you felt bad for but he assures you that it's okay and it's not your fault, it's his. you glare at him at that and pretty sure he saw flames in your eyes, which shut him up real quick. leo now knows better than to talk poorly of himself around you.

• through the six months of building the argo II, you managed to get leo to rest from time to time

• let's be fr, that boy would not rest until you threaten to drag his ass back to his own cabin for him to sleep

• after a while, you manage convince leo to let loose. you invited him, jason, piper, and a few others to a party at your cabin

• since you practically live alone inside of it, why not forget all of the bullshit surrounding you guys for a while? you made sure that you'd be drinking grape juice, upon piper's insistence (much to leo's disappointment, but at least he had you-)

• watching you dance and laugh at the party made leo feel something weird, something he's never felt before. in his eyes, you look like a freaking goddess under the light, and from the corner of your eyes, you see leo smiling, which makes you feel giddy and warm inside

• the day before they were scheduled to leave for the other camp (jupiter) to go get percy, your father informs you that you, his only daughter, is a part of the quest

• you were mad as FUCK

• because why the hell would they tell you last fucking minute???? you literally had no clue about the said prophecy of eight, which apparently included you.

• the only one who managed to calm you down was leo.

• which was definitely a surprise to everyone who knows you, since your temper is definitely something, a force to be reckoned with, really

• so the next day you, leo, piper, jason, and annabeth set sail for who knows where because you literally had no idea

• leo tries his best to cheer you up by asking you to help him man the ship with him. teaching you morse code the way his mother taught him

• oh, how leo wishes that he could see that smile of yours every day

• and your laugh? angelic as if angels personally came down from heaven above

• when leo got possessed by those dumb eidolons, you stood up for him when octavian was talking shit about you and your friends.

• clocking octavian hard in the jaw

• needless to say, everyone was surprised

• but leo? bro thought you looked (even though he didn't see it personally) hotter than literal fire itself

• you may or may not have flooded camp jupiter with diet coke as you and your friends escape to buy you guys some time

• when percy was giving leo grief, you snapped at him

• “he bombed them, y/n!”

• “sit your ass back down perseus,” you hiss at percy, eyes ablaze with a purple flame your father always has. “before i smack the living daylights out of your sorry ass. and no, annabeth can't stop me.”

• annabeth, in fact, can't stop you

• but leo can

• “calm down, mi vida,” leo places a hand on your shoulder, somehow instantly calming you down.

• annabeth looks at leo, realizing what he had called you

• mi vida, or my life in english

• funnily enough, neither you or leo realized that

• secret glances between the two of you, like a glimpse of each other's smile would def make yours and his day a 100 percent better.

• you kinda despised hazel for a while because of the sammy thing. you tried to hide it, but if there's one thing that leo's picked up on you, it was your facial expressions.

• it's like you had built in subtitles, as leo put it.

• “i try not to think,” leo admitted. “it interferes with being nuts.” take a guess where leo got this

• you, his amazingly deranged pretty girl....friend

• when the argo II got yk attacked by big 'ol shrimpy monster, leo was terrified as fuck when he woke up in camp fish blood without you there

• bro practically had a panic attack

• if frank and hazel hadn't assured him that you were safe (probably, hazel just hoped that you were), he would have swam back up to the surface despite the risks

• my bro literally ran towards you as soon as he stepped foot on the ship

• “holy hephaestus! gracias a dioses estas a salvo, estaba tan asustada, mi vida!”

• you honestly had no clue about what he said, but you were honestly so relieved that he's alright

• coach hedge had to pry leo off of you

• but bro refused to leave your side

• leo tapped “meet me at the stables later,” on your arm in morse code

[shelbgrey]

Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons:

Paring: Dean winchester x Singer!Reader

Summary: just some headcanons about Dean dating Bobby Singer's niece. -NSFW content warring.

A/n: the winner of the latest poll, there will be a new one up next week. I was so excited and suprised on how many people did the poll, my first one only had six and the latest one had over 100.

❤️Mood board ❤️MasterList

Being Dean's girlfriend isn't always easy, but you get through it. So let's talk about it.

There was always something between you guys, but with your choice of life there was always something in the way.

You two practically grew up together, with Bobby being your uncle and John being his father you two were always around each other.

I think Dean also had a slight fear of Bobby, you were his niece and your practly his daughter.

Bobby wasn't clueless, he saw the way you two looked at each other. He wanted to kick Dean's teeth out, he's extremely over protective. Bobby also knew if anyone would keep you safe it wold be Dean.

“I know you'll take care of her”

On a side note, Bobby refuse to call you 'idjit'

The last thing he's said before he died was, “take care of my girl.. You idjits”

Anyway, Even if you two kept denying it or if your just clueless, everyone would know.

Other than Sam and Cas, your the only one he 100% trusts you. He'd trusts you with his life and your his partner in crime.

What makes your relationship stronger is that you started off as best friends and allies.

You always thought you were losing him, he would always have one night stands and there was Lisa. Of course they ment nothing to him, he just thought he'd never be good enough for you.

He thought you deserved better. “I'm not what you need...you deserve better”

That was the first time you opened your heart out to him, but he put his walls up. The he pretended like nothing happened... Until you went on one particularly hard hunt.

Everything was happing so fast thst neither one of you remember that night. There was blood everywhere and Dean did everything he could to save you, Castile healed you and Dean confessed something he's been wanting to since he was 18.

“I love you... Please don't leave me, I can't lose you”

Since everything moves fast in your lives you both decided to take things slow. Dispite his rugged appearance he's nothing but a gentleman to you.

He's extremely over protective of you, to the point hunts with him got annoying.

“I'm not some damsley in distress, Dean!”

He knows what a badass you are and he knows you can hold your own, but he can't help but be your shield.

That's really the only times you fight, your both very reckless and laugh in the face of danger. You guys stress each other out on hunts.

But, lets get to the good stuff now.

Your the only other person who can drive the impala, you'd rather just have him driving with you setting with him.

You guys love the same music, so your always singing on the top of your longs to old rock songs. Your guys song is Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band.

You always have to be sleeping next to each other to get a goods night rest, even when you weren't together you two shared a bed in the old motels.

Dean refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.

You bake the best pies in his opinion and Sam loves your homemade salsa.

When you guys moved into the bunker you guys made great use of the kitchen, Sam loves your guys cooking.

Speaking of Sam, he's one of your best friends. Cas is your first, but you and Sam have a long history together. You were even the first one to hear he got accepted into college.

We know Cas is like the Winchesters gardian angel, well Gabriel is yours.

About three years into yours and Dean's relationship you broke up, it was around the time Sam went to hell and you guys just pushed each other away.

Gabe knew you guys loved each other, so he worked really hard to get you back together. He did succeed.

You guys might argue about the little things, but he always know how to make them better.

You guys just like staying in and watching movies or Scooby-Doo. You guys love cuddling up in the Dean cave and just ignore the world for a few hours.

He loves cuddles, if your in bed or on the couch he needs to be holding you. He loves it when he's laying in bed and your lying on top of his chest.

He also loves it when you hold him, maybe after a rough hunt he'll love just rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

You love just being in his arms, there's no feeling better than that. He loves snaking his arms around you and resting his chin on your head because he just really needs to being close to you.

He's really just a big ol' teddy bear.

He's a rough kisser, he's way taller than you so usually he hold your chin between his fingers and lift for head up to kiss you.

There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.

He also loves it when you kiss his forehead. It just a small, loving gesture he absolutely loves.

If your cold you'll steal his flannels or his jackets, he had this black and red flannel that he now only sees if your wearing it.

when ever your busy doing research Dean always deliver a tiny kiss on your forehead. He'd just be walking by and he'll give you a quick kiss just to make you blush.

He's good a making you blush, he thinks it's adorable.

Trust is a big part of your relationship, you both had opened up about the abuse your fathers and dumped on you. That was the reason Bobby took you in, he could bare you being in the type of environment he grew up in.

With that Dean made a promise to never hurt or scare you. He refuses to lay a hurtful hand on you. It'll break his heart if you flinch away from him during an argument.

As much as you love Dean, demon Dean scares the hell out of you. The demon knew this and used it to his advantage. He Dean went back to normal he could barely look into your eyes. He blamed himself for the bruises around your neck the demon caused.

“I promised you I'd never hurt you... I'm so sorry” he said. “it's not your fault”

On a more positive side... You guys have lots of nicknames. You call him Deano or bub and he calls you just about anything but your actual name, Sweetheart is your favorite.

And with FBI names, you take a different approach. While he uses rock aliases you use actor or fictional names.

“agent Sweets, really?” he said playfully. “What? I like the show Bones”

Your like a mother to Claire, she loves you so much and your the only person she trusts other than Jody and the boys.

Speaking of Jody, she took you under her wing immediately. You never had a mother growing up so it was a relief to have her in your life.

You become a mother to Jack too, and your relationship hit a really bumpy road during that time. You hated how Dean treated Jack and it always turned into a fight.

“if you touch him, I swear to God, Dean!”

Den didn't want to be like his father and after awhile Dean's shell broke and he started to grow a soft spot for him, after your lives calmed down you both did end up adopting Jack.

But to legally do that you had to get married. You both wanted to get married so bad, but with your lives you never got the chance.

You weren't gonna get a white wedding, you knew that and Dean thought the Cort house wasn't good enough. So you got married in the church of Elvis in Las Vegas.

NSFW headcanons:

Dean prefers being on top and being the one in control.

He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

Bondeg kink, ropes, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

definitely a fan of overstimulation, he loves the way that your body twitches and you whimper from his touch.

car sex! All the way. loves to take you in the back of the impala, loving the way the windows fog up and the small area gets loud with the noises you make.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He would really get off on marking you up. He didn’t think he would, as it wasn’t something he thought too much about but when he did it there was no turning back.

He definitely has a Praise kink too, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

“you feel so amazing Sweetheart”

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

[tofics]

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

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@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

[arjwrites]

— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...

Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)

It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)

I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️‍🩹 — 👼 angel anon

Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader

Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333

Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food. 

Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way. 

“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it. 

“Cas, honey. What happened?” 

“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?

Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.

“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time. 

“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.

Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.

“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.” 

“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”

“Well, a few days now.”

“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?” 

“I had a candy bar.” 

“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily. 

Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported. 

“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs. 

As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.

“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.

You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel. 

“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement. 

With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you. 

That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.

“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs. 

“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.” 

Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him. 

Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug. 

After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.

-

You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup. 

As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.

“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today. 

“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.

“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.

“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.” 

“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”

“How will that help?” He inquired.

“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”

His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed. 

“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”

You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself. 

“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”

Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.

“How do I know if I like it?” 

You thought for a moment.

“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”

He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.

As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn. 

-

Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine. 

As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice. 

“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.

“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”

There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him. 

“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.” 

“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.

“Want to know a secret?”

He nodded, silently, eagerly. 

“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.” 

“How do I know what to choose?” 

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.” 

Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.  

- 

Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it. 

At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.  

“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.

“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.

“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.

“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.

“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“Take your time. I’m here.” 

There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms. 

“Maybe, distracted?”

“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum. 

You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time. 

“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly. 

“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself. 

“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face. 

“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.

“What do you mean?” 

“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.

He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.

“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.

He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.

-

There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself. 

The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet. 

There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.

Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.

[river13245]

The Angels Protector

Navigation / Castiel Masterlist

The sun had started to go down as you were driving back to the bunker. You had one job and that was to find a way to bring Jack back. Castiel had a special relationship with Jack he was like his own son and you had noticed the toll it had started to take on him when he died.

You knew about how Jack had killed Mary and had done things because the angels were using him. But the Jack that you knew wouldn't do something like that. So you were determined to find out how to bring him back so you could help him.

Dean would be so pissed with you but you could deal with him later when he did end up finding out. Right now you just wanted to get to the bunker and crawl into bed and just hope that your angel of a boyfriend would get into bed with you.

After an hour you had pulled up in front of the bunker. You grab your bag and throw it over your shoulder and start to walk in. What you heard when you entered made you place your bag by the door and walk into the living room.

You see Dean with his arms crossed looking at Cas and your boyfriend looks frustrated. Dean is looking at him as if he cant stand to look at him. Cas was explaining to him about how he had to do what he did even when he knew it would mess up the plan.

Of course Dean wasn't listening to him since he only cared about what he thought was right. What caught you off guard was when Dean looked straight at Cas and said "you know we do sometimes have plans fail and we have problems. But you always seem to be the cause of all these problems" There's a pause and your boyfriend speaks "what are you saying Dean?"

Dean was predictable he always lashed out at other people when things didnt go his way. You knew where this was headed so you look over at him and shake your head warning him to not finish what he was going to say. It didnt stop him. "You didnt tell us that Jack had been acting strange and then he killed my mom. You didnt stick to the plan and look where its gotten us. You are the problem Cas"

The glare you had on Dean could kill him if looks could kill. Castiel stood there and took it because he knew that what he said was partially true. But wouldn't you want to protect your kid and make sure that you were right before causing everyone to attack them. He also believed that he was the problem. Hell he spent most of the years doing everything he could to help just so he could fight that voice in his head.

A minute or so passes and Castiel just turns around and walks straight past you and to the door. "where are you going?" Dean asks and Cas looks back at him "Jacks gone, everyone is out doing their own things. Its time I leave especially when my time here is done" He leaves it at that and walks out and Dean doesnt try to stop him.

Dean goes to the kitchen and grabs a beer and then asks if you would like one. That sets you off because he just acts as if nothing happened. "are you fucking serious right now?" a scoff escapes you as you try to control yourself. Its not often you let out any anger or snap at people. You and Dean were very similar you just handled your anger better than he did and were more emotional.

He looks at you a little surprised by your outburst. "Yes I'm serious its not my problem he left after screwing us over" This causes you to walk straight up to him and punch him in the face. The skin and bone that hits your knuckles hurt but damn does it satisfy you. Dean doesn't try to even hit back. Not that he has the time too because your already speaking to him in such a tone that would make anyone shiver.

Looking up at him you defend your boyfriend who wouldnt do it himself because he cares to much about what dean and everyone else thinks of him. "Castiel does his best to keep the two of you safe. Yes does he sometimes fail but so have you guys. You have been too late to save Sam and vice versa. Hell other poeple have died to save your asses. Castiel has done so much good for you, for us, for the world. He turned his back on the angels and god himself after he spent who knows how many years he has spent loyal to them. He stays awake for days just to make sure there is always a way that all of this ends well for all of us. So ill be damned if you ever speak that way to him or about him like that again. Next time you ever tell him that he is the cause of all the shit things that have happened you will be on the floor"

Dean who is your best friend just stares at you. As if he is contemplating on what to say but turns out he doesn't have to cause Sam had heard everything and he clears his throat. Turning your head you look over at him and Sam and he is giving you a apologetic look. "y/n Dean he just-" you cut him off by shaking your head and grabbing your bag. "don't try to apologize for him."

When you get to the door you look back "I love you boys. You guys are my family but ill be damned if you talk to someone that i love like that."

-----

When you get your things into the car you start to head home. You could only hope that Castiel would be there. He wasn't home often because he was always out and you were always helping someone with something but you knew he wasn't feeling the greatest right now.

Your angel he wasn't fragile by any means because man did he look good beating the shit out of someone. However that doesn't mean that he doesn't feel things, he's an emotional man and you love that about him because so are you. he's better at keeping them in check than you are but you wanted to spend tonight taking care of him.

As you arrive to your cabin that the both of you had found empty a few months ago during a case you cant help but just hope that he was there somewhere. When you walk in and close the door there's no sign of life anywhere. "damnit Cas"

Walking to your bedroom you put your bag down and then go back down to the kitchen and make a sandwich for you and for Cas. Even with knowing that he didn't have to eat you still liked to include him and he would also always go along with it just to spend time with you. Once you place the sandwiches on a plate you close your eyes and you begin to speak to your boyfriend hoping he would come to you.

Taking a deep breath you begin "Castiel, my angel, come home please. I made food and can put on a movie" You weren't really good with words something in common you had with the Winchester brother but you hoped it was enough.

When you open your eyes to see he hadn't come a sigh leaves you and you go and pick out a movie to watch. One that you have watched hundreds of times but haven't seen in a while. So as you sit down you hear a voice from the door way. "y/n"

Your name that's the only thing you need to hear to know that he isn't doing well. The way his voice is strained as if he had been forcing so many emotions down. Looking over you see how small he looks as if the world is weighing on his shoulders. As you place down your plate of sandwiches you hold out your arms and he walks to you and sits beside you resting his head on your chest. "Castiel I'm so sorry"

He shakes his head and then looks at you and kisses your cheek "its not your fault. He is right I should have found better ways to help instead of-" You place your hands on his and squeeze them "don't think like that. You did everything right you cant control everything. Not even god himself can"

In return he squeezes your hand "I just hate that I cant do more. But I don't know what else to do. I'm so lost" You bring your hands to the sides of his face gently and nods. "well how about we eat and watch this movie. Let us both relax for a little while hm?"

"yeah that would be fine" He sits back and gets comfortable then you yourself get comfortable and play the movie. As it starts to play you hear a small laugh escape from the man behind you. "How to lose a guy in 10 days again really?"

"you love this movie and you know it" The angel smirks at your words and throughout the movie his eyes never leave the screen while your mind runs a thousand miles per minute. Even as you start to fall asleep but before you do you place a soft kiss to his lips. "you know i would do anything for you right?" He nods "i know y/n. Sam told me what you did after i left. You didnt have to"

A scoff escapes you as your hand rests on his side. "i know i didnt have to but Dean had no right coming at you like that"

"Dean means well he just. i dont know. we will figure it out tomorrow. Right now you need sleep" he says and you nod in response and close your eyes.

[hells-plaid-angel]

Destiel Pride: Featherlight

There comes a time in the grieving process when you run out of things to destroy. There are only so many colourful curses that can be screamed and muffled into the fabric of a trench coat. There are only so many people to blame before it becomes obvious the culprit is the person staring at you in the mirror each morning — or night. Time loses all meaning but before and after. There are no true mornings when mourning. Without Cas, there is no sun rising, only setting. That was how Dean lived in the weeks after Cas was dragged into The Empty.

He still hadn't used the word 'death', not even in the sanctity of his head. 'Death' was a slippery word when it came to the Winchesters, and Cas — whether the bastard liked it or not, was a Winchester by default. He was family. Goddamn family, with all the shitty hang-ups that came with the title.

The word 'death' didn't seem to encompass the grief. Cas was absent from any place that Dean could find him. Even in death, Dean would find him. The lack of him throbbed like bruised knuckles. It only hurt when he moved or thought about it, or stayed too still.

When two months had passed and all options Dean could think of had been explored to get Cas out of The Empty, he was left in the wreckage that'd once been his bedroom. The only things left intact fell into two categories, things that'd been too tough to break, and things that belonged to Cas.

In the silence that followed the carnage, Dean was left with what he'd been avoiding, a moment to think. He wasn't struck by a revelation. 'Revelation' wasn't the right word. He was struck instead by a sense of recognition. A long-hidden truth had stilled his hand and hollowed what was left of his body.

Cas loved him, he knew that. He'd known from the second the angel was gone. He knew what kind of love Cas meant. What he hadn't realised until he was hunched over himself, holding the splintered remains of his nightstand was that he loved Cas back. His loss had brought a torrent of rage because where the hell was all his love meant to go? When Cas left, he'd taken Dean's love with him.

And goddamn wasn't that the cosmic kick in the balls to bookend what he'd deemed a tragic existence? He'd been thinking about death and how useless death would be if Cas wasn't on the other end of it. He was thinking of life in much the same light.

Dean hadn't been raised to know what to do with a grief so all-encompassing it ran in the background of his existence like a mixtape on a road trip. If he followed his father's example, all that was left to do was to become an obsessed bastard, and destroy himself and everyone he touched in slow motion. The Winchester rule for dealing with grief? Become the gangrene in the wound. Make everything so much worse.

When Cas arrived at the door of the bunker a month later, Dean didn't know what to do. Everything in him pushed towards anger, towards utter annihilation of all that was good in himself. However, upon seeing the look of uncertainty on the angel's face decades of rage disappeared. What he was left with was the familiar ring of tinnitus and the thick pit of dread that'd settled in his stomach. What the hell were they meant to do now?

"Hello, Dean," Cas spoke, like nothing had happened. Giving Dean an out, he knew he'd never be able to take.

There was too much left unsaid between them to go tumbling back into cowboy hats and coffee quips like their last run-in with death.

Dean knew he was meant to talk but he'd never been much of a talker when it counted. His hands trembled as they moved unbidden to hover over Cas' shoulder. He needed to touch the guy, to make sure he was real but to do so felt too definitive. If Cas was an illusion, Dean didn't care. He wanted him to stay put for once.

Dean's hands hovered ghostlike in the space between them, haunted as the rest of his body by the loss of the angel. His fingers flittered around Cas' body, nervous birds on hot, highway concrete. They'd land for a moment, featherlight, before taking off again. They explored Castiel's arms, his chest, his cheeks. All the while, Dean remained silent as the saint he wasn't.

In all his imaginings of their reunion, everything had been intense, whether he was throwing curses or kisses at Cas. He'd never expected his lips to lock and his body to betray him by shaking like a goddamn leaf in the breeze. He felt like he was a kid again, lost, silent and looking for someone or something to hold onto with all his fucking might.

He wanted to find his tongue, to say something to wipe the look of absolute bewilderment and trepidation from Cas' face but what the hell was there to say? No words would be enough.

He placed his hands on either side of Cas' face, watching the angel's eyes swell. He wanted a grand gesture. Cas deserved it, but Dean was still tied in knots trying to work out if this was a line they could cross and walk back from. Dean didn't know what he'd do if he screwed things up, terrified Cas would be another home he could never return to.

His lips found the scrape of Cas' cheek. The familiar five o'clock shadow on the unfamiliar territory of his mouth. It was so unlike Dean to be any kind of tender. There was no way the action could be misconstrued for anything other than what it was. A promise? A confession?

His hands had landed on the small of Cas' back and the curve of his hip. He opened his mouth to speak but the words came out garbled, sounding embarrassingly close to a sob.

Still, his mouth wouldn't shape the words. He closed his eyes and prayed, hoping Cas would hear.

Don't you ever do that to me again.

[deancaspinefest]

Something Happening Somewhen

Author: allthismusic | Artist: eggchef

Posting on Wednesday March 27

Dean is 24 years old, and a quiet night at a California dive bar turns into a near death experience turns into a trip through time thanks to the stranger he meets in the bar. When he lands in the bunker twenty years into his future, he finds out who the stranger is — and what his relationship is to Dean’s own older self. Dean’s not sure what he thinks about this at first, but when Cas takes him back to his own time (accompanied by the older Dean, who is determined to make sure that nothing they do in the past screws up their lives in the future), he gets to know the angel, and he gets a glimpse at a future he never would’ve dreamed that he might be able to have.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

In the cool evening air, Dean looks around. He’d left the Impala back parked at the dingy motel where he’d rented a room, but he’s not quite ready to call it a night. He opens his remaining beer and looks down the street to see if there’s another bar nearby that might be worth checking out, but before he can make a decision he hears the door to the bar he has just left open behind him. And he knows, he just /knows/, that it isn’t some other random patron headed home.

“What the hell is this, huh?” Dean asks, “Something about ‘not interested’ you’re not getting?”

And then the guy says his name.

“Dean,” the man begins, and Dean gets it.

“Oh, lemme guess, my dad tell you to check up on me?” Dean asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just begins to walk, knowing the man will follow. He’s a hunter, obviously. Explains the build, and the suit that is only meant to pass muster at a brief glance, like the fake police badge or FBI creds the guy probably carries. Dean should’ve clocked him from the start.

And for some reason John had thought that Dean needed checking up on. That he couldn’t be trusted to go it alone, nevermind the fact that he had finished the hunt his dad had sent him on two whole days ago and had yet to receive any new case coordinates from John.

To Dean’s surprise, he hears a laugh behind him. He stops, and now he does turn to face the guy again.

“No,” the man says. “I’ve lost count of how often I’ve been told I’m bad at following orders, but even if that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t follow your father’s.”

“Oh yeah? Then how do you know my name?” Dean demands.

“You left your wallet on the bar,” the man replies, holding it up. It’s definitely Dean’s: worn black leather, secondhand from his dad, containing a meager number of bills and at least three fake IDs tucked behind a real one— well, real first name, although it gives his surname as Campbell, just in case.

“Oh,” Dean says, wondering for the second time that night if he has misjudged this guy’s intentions. Maybe he’s just a normal businessman trying to do a good deed for the day and return a lost wallet, despite the wallet’s owner being an absolute weird freak toward him. “Thanks.”

The man offers the wallet out to him, almost gently, like he’s proffering a bit of food to a scared, stray dog, and Dean steps forward to take it. “It’s your birthday,” he says, and before Dean can ask, the man explains, “I saw it on your ID. On one of them, anyway.” Dean nods. “Happy birthday,” the guy says. “I should’ve bought you a beer.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 27)

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter's ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday everyone. Time for my third week of fics I've read and loved recently. It's been a busy one so just a few this week, but they're all brilliant and with fortuitous timing if you're not one to read WIPs as two are about to be completed this weekend. If you missed last week's you can find it here for more!

19 January 2024

it dawns darling on the daffodil pastures by fleeceframe (@tasteslikevelvet) - what can I say? I audibly gasped when I saw the email notification that this had been posted. Every fleeceframe fic is like being gently told it's okay to slip away for a little while and just feel, and oh boy does this one deliver on that promise. A new instalment in the lovely garden tending series, but can be read as a standalone, this features sweet subby Dean asking his gentle dom Cas to take care of him, with as fleeceframe says "religious tones in the sexy fashion, and a decent amount of plot sprinkled in." When a hunt almost ends in disaster, Dean reflects on what it means to have the unconditional love of his angel watching over him. (Siri, play Radio Company.)

Wait for the Ricochet by @bobwess gives me all the time travel shenanigans I could hope for bringing a young teen Sam and Dean forward to the bunker to meet tfw circa season 12. A wip, it just updated with a new chapter that totally made me cry with all the young queer feelings. A lovely balance of fish out of water plot and coming to terms with a future whilst reckoning with your past, with wonderful sibling dynamics as well as a burgeoning destiel relationship that's still tentatively feeling it's way.

where there is darkness by quiettewandering (@wanderingcas) has been such a wonderful wip to follow along and the final chapters are being posted this weekend HAVE JUST BEEN POSTED!!! so there's no better time to start reading. I'm not ready to let these guys go! With an incredible amount of research, this is lighthouse keeper Dean (and Sam) in a post-war setting exploring how Dean keeps a handle on his ptsd whilst also grappling with having seen his father die. Meanwhile Cas has a past packed full of secrets, and where better to run and hide than a job at an isolated lighthouse where nobody knows him. They're each other's lights in the darkness whilst the ghosts of the past haunt them all, in this eerie and gothic romantic story that truly grips you by the throat.

Fortunate Son by @friendofcarlotta is another wip that's about to post its final chapter NOW COMPLETE and absolute masterclass in character development. Set during the Vietnam war, Sam is a law student and conscientious objector, Cas the son of a strict rich and religious family who is bought out of participating, and Dean determined to follow in his father's footsteps to become a war hero like the stories he heard when he was younger. Despite butting heads at first, Dean and Cas soon find themselves falling for each other. But the war is vicious, and unjust, and they all must grapple with how it impacts their lives in unexpected ways.

(and heck, because I can, and because this is what I was doing last weekend in lieu of reading, here's my Dean Winchester SPNWIN voiceover audio post, and my first ever attempt at an AMV fanvid featuring Ada Monroe).

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education ( platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

summary : when castiel curious nature after watching adult movies leads to a strange string of questions and learning of their sex lives . 

warnings well there is really none just awkward sex talk . this is more a drabble   

What was supposed to be a normal ass day of research ended up more strange then any hunt well it definitely up there . She wanted to prove dean wrong but walked in on castiel doing his own research . eyes locked on the screen , while head tilted in confusion and a woman's moans filled the room making the two freeze to their spot. 

" is he watching..." her voice trailed off .

" porn yeah , we've got an angel watching porn " dean shook his  head .

" erm cas buddy that stuff is not for the communional area's more privacy of your own room " she winced as the sound of skin slapping got louder.

" if the pizza man truly loves the babysitter why does he keep  slapping her rear ?"  he turned to the red faced  hunters standing before him .  " perhap she has done something wrong" he added. 

" cas turn it off please" she asked quicker and louder ,making cas stand and her to gasp . " oh my ,dean does he have " she turned to the man .

" A boner yep " he snorted .

" Cas why are you watching this " she asked sitting across from him noticing his eyes trail to her chest.

" You can't watch porn in a room filled with dude's and Y/N " the older winchester chuckled wondering would sam believe him .

" I was bored and bobby told me to borrow a video out of his room" he looked even more confused what was wrong .

" Well good to know i can never look bobby in the eyes again " she felt her cheeks heating up giving the situation.

" Is sex like this in real life " he asked making her wishing she went on the supply run .

" no never , i mean the girls finish for one  and those moanS so fake " she snorted making dean shoot her alook .

" A Man never made you finish " he asked curiously.

" Cas you can't ask a chick that ... but yeah what "he said  turning to Y/N for some help .

" No they have not anyway's  cas sex is nothing like these movies their just fantasized version  that people mainly watch to well get off " she explained awkwardly again wanting to leave the room as soon as she could. 

" Alone so don't whip it out " dean added seeing the angel looking down at his crotch .

" Do you watch it " cas asked looking straight at her.

"  i mean yeah i do sometimes " she smiled weakly seeing deans face light up .

" That's hot sweet girl " he winked .

" that made it move " Cas looked down at his crotch .

" Oh kill me now " she cried as dean doubled over laughing .

" Do you like your rear slapped " Cas asked still filled with questions.

" ok ok why is this aimed at me " she stood.

" I mean trench coat baby has valid questions so sweetheart does spanking get you going " dean teased finding the whole thing amazing . 

" wouldn't you like to know " she winked before leaving the room before the angel curiosity killed her . 

" Hey i wanted to know " dean yelled just as sam walked in almost dropping the bag of groceries  when he had seen what was on the screen .

" Why are you and cas watching porn " he arched his brows .

" Cause he found it in bobbies room  and was curious and just to clarify he was watching it not me " dean snorted.

" Does Y/N like her rear smacked she wasn't clear on her answer " castiel asked standing and to full attention still .

" Ithink i'm going to go back to the store , maybe never come back " sam walked back out the door.

"damn it cas go fix that or have a cold shower" dean huffed leaving the angel standing confused to what was going on  and why everyone was so uncomfortable .

...........

To say dinner time in the bunker was filled with tension was an understatement . all eyes on their plates to bobby's confusion , hell Y/N hasn't looked at him once .

" Ok what the hell happened here  did you walk in on those too having sex or something " he gestured to dean and Y/N .

" No Y/N has never finished in sex " cas said easily .

" someone seriously just shoot me " she groaned.

" i'd let you finish princess " dean winked.

" Erm cas may have gotten his hands on a special movie from your room and it lead to some interesting question mainly aimed at our female hunter " sam explain.

" Pizza boy and babysitter really man " dean asked as bobby's eyes found his plate really interesting all of a sudden.

" I'm going to eat in my room and never talk to you guys again except sam " she ran out the room with her plate.

" Hey want me to join you for dessert" dean called .

"  Fuck off " she yelled back .

" Thank god we don't have a HR department " sam muttered. 

" She never gonna talk to any of us again " bobby face was beet red knowing his niece now knew what he had in his room .

" Who even has porn  dvds anymore " .

" I fixed my boner earlier alone like you said " cas said as the other  dropped their forks . 

" I'm joining Y/N , you guys deal with this " sam ran down the hall . 

" is he going to smack her rear ?  ".

" Ok no more porn questions ever watch it in your room in private and never tell us again and stop asking y/n sex questions before she  leaves us altogether" dean deadpanned.

" We're definitely going to hell for getting an angel hooked on porn " bobby mumbled. 

part two

[daughterofcain-67]

𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: Post season 15 with alternate universe/ending with both Winchesters get a happy ending (SPOILERS MENTIONED)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after Chuck was finally defeated and Jack took charge of Heaven, you hoped that you could finally settle down with your husband. But once an hunter, always a hunter you supposed. You try to talk to Dean about retiring for good, leading the both of you into an argument. But when something happens to you as a result of a case, Dean reconsiders the idea of retirement.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of supernatural ending (sort of), argument with Dean, violence, blood, close call for character death.

You thought that for sure since Chuck was finally defeated and Jack was in charge of the new Heaven, things would die down for Dean and he would be less tense. And for a little while, he did seem more relaxed. In fact, after so many years of waiting and wondering if it would ever happen, the two of you were finally able to get married! Dean was growing his hair out and he had a little beard growing too.

You and Dean were still living in the bunker while Sam decided to begin his new life away from hunting once and for all. Dean started a business as a mechanic and whenever that familiar urge to hunt was there, he would occasionally take local cases on the weekends.

Things had been fairly relaxed but you knew that a part of Dean was always on the lookout for trouble. As if Chuck could make some kind of miraculous appearance again or there would be another angelic/demonic war. You knew he couldn't help it and you wished he wouldn't even hunt on the weekends but you knew that it was what he grew up with. It was all he knew next to fixing up cars.

Which brings you to this weekend. Dean had that itch to hunt again but you had to give him credit, it had been about a month since he went on his last hunt. Normally he would go every other week. Then again he had been a little bit backed up with work so he didn't exactly have the time to hunt until now.

You watched your husband go through the artillery in Baby's trunk and you smiled to yourself. Seeing him get ready for a hunt did bring back memories of simpler times before the brothers had to worry about the apocalypse. You remember when the two of you first met on a hunt over in Dunn, North Carolina. It was a simple little hunt, a milk run really. You had heard from Bobby that a certain father-and-son dup needed help on a case with a pack of werewolves. That was back when you were 23 and Dean was about 24 as Sam was already in college by that time.

That was the first time you met Dean and you were good acquaintances, maybe a hook up once in a while if you both happened to be in the same town as years went by. But you didn't have Dean as a constant in your life until Sam reached out to you a few years back saying something about some Mark of Cain. You had been there to help him in any way you could, even though it was sort of a solo suffering kind of thing and all you could do was help Sam think of a way to get it off. You didn't realize you loved him until Metatron fought Dean and you had almost lost him forever.

"Dean?" You asked as you walked towards him, placing a gentle hand on his back. He paused for a moment as he looked down at you with a certain softness in his eye that was finally able to be seen more often.

"Yeah, Sweetheart?" He answered as he shut the trunk.

"You'll be careful out there, right? I mean I know it's not demons, angels, or God himself, but vampires and werewolves are just as deadly. Hunters still get killed by basic monsters and spirits just the same. And they don't come back like you did so many times." You said, unable to help worrying even if he's done so many more dangerous things over the years.

"I know they are. And I promise, I'll come back home safe and sound, just like I always do." Dean promised and you rolled your eyes a little. The last hunting trip he went on with Sam, Dean nearly got himself killed on a basic hunt but luckily the wound he got was in his shoulder instead of anywhere fatal. After that hunt, Sam realized he was done with hunting for good and he encouraged Dean to start a different business - which was where the mechanic idea came from.

"You'd better keep that promise. You were supposed to retire like Sam did. If I lose you... this time it's for good. No spell, no miracle will bring you back this time." You started and Dean sighed a little and shook his head before taking your hand off him.

"Y/N, we've talked about this so many times and you know it's not going to change. I've pretty much stopped and now it's just an every once in a while kind of thing. I've hunted all my damn life and I know what I'm doing. I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do." He said, getting a little stern with you by raising his voice.

"Pretty much stopping is not being retired. And it's not being safe. If you have to hold onto hunting, then why can't you just be a researcher like Bobby was? Get off the field. You don't need to be a soldier anym-"

"Because I'm not Bobby! I'm not Sam! My place is out there like it always was! You know, when we got married I thought you'd be more supportive." He said and ran a hand through his longer hair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? I've been supportive of you for all these years! I've been one of the ones to support you with your mechanic business! Is it so damn wrong of me to want my husband alive?! Is it wrong of me to want you to stop being so reckless on hunts!? It's time for you to let go and finally live, Dean! That's all I want for you."

When you watched him turn around, it was like there was no emotion in his eyes, his brows slightly narrowed and his jaw set. You knew it was the sign that he was done talking about this even if it was the middle of an argument. "I'll see you in a couple of days. Maybe you'll be more open minded about everything by then."

"And you're going to leave just like that? Like what I had to say is no big deal?!" You asked as he got into the Impala and you watched him drive off. You threw your arms up with annoyance and you made your way inside the Bunker once more, unsure of what things would be like when he would come home. If he would come home.

That argument was more than a couple of days ago. In fact it was almost a week to be exact. Dean told you he'd be back in a couple of days and tomorrow would mark a week since he left on a stupid hunt.

Granted you knew a thing or two about cars yourself so the business wouldn't falter because the owner was gone. But you felt uneasy. What if something had happened to Dean after all? And after all of the things you said, of all things it had to be an argument. What if you would never get to remind him that you loved him again?

All of these thoughts and worries got to you, but luckily Sam was able to stop by and visit to help you with the shop, and sort of keep your head on straight without Dean around.

It was the end of another work day and you and Sam were at the bunker again. Sam was sitting at the table in the library skimming through the research books.

"You guys still held onto these? You could have sold them to several hunters and would have probably made some good money off them." Sam said as he shut the book and pushed it to the side just as you handed him a glass of bourbon.

"Yeah well.. your hard-headed brother wanted to keep them for his weekend trips incase he needed me to search something up." You muttered as you sat down, looking at your wedding band. You started to bounce your knee up and down anxiously and Sam noticed that the worry was starting to get to you.

"Y/N, I'm sure he'll be okay. You know that sometimes hunts can be a little more complicated than they lead on." Sam spoke

"But what if he's not okay, Sam? What if this is the one hunt that ends it for him? One wrong move and it could be over. One slip up and he's gone. What if he dies thinking I'm still upset with him? What if he dies thinking I never supported him?" You rambled and the last part was what caught Sam's attention.

"He said that? After everything you two have been through?" He asked and you nodded and you pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes and you could feel a stress-induced migraine coming on. Wonderful.

Sam let out a sigh, wishing his brother would lose that hard head but he knew that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. But when he looked at you again, he wanted to think of how to get your mind off the worst.

"Why don't you get out of the house for a while, huh? You need the fresh air and maybe you'll feel better. I'll give Dean a call while you're out and see if he's alright. He's going to be fine." Sam said and you thought about it for a moment before you nodded. Maybe the fresh air would do you some good.

"Yeah.. Maybe I'll go pick up some groceries while I'm out and stock up on some stuff." You said as you got out of the chair.

"Why don't I go with you though? Make sure nothing happens. It never hurts to be too cautious." He said, but you shook your head at the suggestion.

"The store's just a few minutes away. I'll be okay getting from here to there safely." You insisted and saw the nod from your brother-in-law.

And with all of that being said you ended up taking your own car to go to the nearest grocery store to pick up whatever it was you could think of that you needed, considering you didn't exactly have a list on you.

When you got there, you noticed the parking lot was empty. It couldn't be that late could it? When you got out of the car you walked towards the front entrance of the little store and noticed a sign.

"Closed down? When did that happen?" You wondered out loud. It wasn't a huge business, it was a little family owned grocery store and you didn't expect it to be closing. But you shrugged nonetheless and decided to head over to the nearest Walmart.

But before you could get to your car, you felt something hit your head and all went black.

Just then, Dean rolled into the garage of the bunker and noticed his brother's vehicle was there, but yours was not. That was a little unexpected but he knew he'd be glad to see his brother again even if you would be angry with him especially after being gone so much longer than he had originally anticipated. Yes there were complications on the hunt this time around but a part of him just didn't want to come home and continue an argument.

Hunting was his life for so long and doing these simple hunts reminded him of the old times with his brother. He missed the simplicity of it all, the adrenaline rush. The feeling he got when he would actually save people. He missed it all. And he thought you of all people would understand.

He opened the door and made his way downstairs only to see his brother lifting his phone up to his ear. Then Dean's phone started ringing, causing the older brother to chuckle when Sam's head spun around. Sam hung up the phone and got up from his seat.

"Welcome back." Sam smiled and the two brothers met in the middle and hugged for a brief moment before letting go so Dean could set his bag down on the table. "And after all those years giving me hell about not getting a haircut, you go out and grow your hair."

Dean laughed, "Just trying something a bit different to see how it works out. But I still don't use nearly as much product as you do." This caused a chuckle to come from Sam.

"So where's Y/N? I didn't see her car. Is she alright?" Dean asked .

"Well physically, yeah she's alright. She just went to the store. But otherwise, she's been worried about you, Dean. It's been a week and she said she hadn't heard anything from you. And she started thinking the worst but I kept reminding her that some cases extend a little longer than we want them to." Sam said and Dean sighed a little.

"It was supposed to be a local issue that lasted like two days tops. Some missing persons in the camp grounds and I thought it was another Wendigo case. But it turned out to be Vetalas. Found that out when I caught it feeding off a camper and I managed to find its partner but it ended up getting away. But it turns out there was a whole group of them a few towns over and I assumed the partner went back there. Luckily I was able to find a few other hunters there and we took care of the problem so no one else would get hurt and we wouldn't have anymore coming around here. So naturally it ended up taking more than a couple of days like I hoped it would be."

"Did you ever find the first Vetala's partner again?" Sam asked and Dean shook his head, sending a red flag up in Sam's mind. He looked down at his watch and realized that you had been gone for a pretty long time after saying the store was only a few minutes away.

"Dean, I think you should call Y/N." The younger brother commented. Dean clenched his jaw, not liking the idea of you being in any kind of danger.

So, Dean pulled out his phone and started calling your number. Normally you would pick up right away especially if you were as worried about him as Sam said you were. But after a few rings, Dean finally got an answer, but it wasn't from you.

"Well, well. Took you long enough to even call. Your little mate's fine for now. But if you want to see her again one last time, you'll meet me at the little store a few blocks away from your house. You'll see your mates car there." The creature said and Dean could feel his blood boiling with rage.

"What do you want with her you sick son of a bitch?"

"Just come to where I told you. Of and come alone. I know if one Winchester is out and about, the other is never too far behind." Then the line went dead.

"Damnit!" The older brother cursed and got up, taking his bag of weapons from this hunt in the bag and he started making his way up the stairs.

"Dean, wait. You need to think rationally about this. Now you know where she is but now you need to think of-"

"Sam, I don't have the time to hear about how you think I should have a plan. I'll think of one when I get there." He said and started going back upstairs and he went out the door.

"Well this ought to turn out wonderfully." Muttered Sam sarcastically as he got up to follow his brother.

The two rode in the Impala, a vehicle Sam never thought he would be riding in again, and after a few minutes they made it to the store. Dean got out of the car before going into the store, doors unlocked. Well, simply because the lock had been destroyed before he got there.

When the two brothers went inside they saw that the door leading into the basement storage room was opened and Dean motioned for Sam to stay in the front incase anyone or anything else came to cause more trouble.

When Dean made it to the basement, he saw you tied up to a chair and paralyzed with the monster's venom.

"Y/N.." He breathed out and he rushed to you but that was when the Vetala came and grabbed Dean before sinking its fangs into your husband's neck, paralyzing him with its venom. You watched in horror when your husband fell to the ground.

"Took you long enough to arrive. Now you can watch as your beloved dies right in front of you just like you killed my partner and my family with your hunter friends." The creature seethed. You were still paralyzed by the venom since it hadn't left your system yet but you were conscious and helpless.

Then you watched as the Vetala came behind you and you closed your eyes preparing for the worst. Then you felt the pain of the monster's fangs in your neck again and it started to feed off you. You were loosing blood fast and you could feel the warmth of your blood dripping down your neck. Your vision went blurry and you felt weak.

But out of nowhere, you heard a gunshot.

Sam shot the monster, knowing all too well that's not how these creatures die but it would at least get it off you.

You weren't sure what happened next because by that time you blacked out. Your last thought were just of you wondering if you'd see Castiel and Jack again sooner than you thought you would.

After a few moments of combat, Sam killed the Vetala with the silver blade through the heart and a twist of the blade in the chest. Now the creature was nothing but a crumpled carcass on the ground. Then Sam managed to get you and Dean into the Impala one by one, he was able to get you both back to the bunker.

The venom wore off Dean within an hour and he was right by your side since you hadn't woken up yet. What if you lost too much blood? The wounds in your neck scabbed over and Dean cleaned them up and put a bandage on but shouldn't you have woken up by now?

He was holding onto your hand as he looked down at your sleeping figure. His mind was racing faster than it had in a long time. This was one thing he didn't miss about hunting, the lives put in danger because of creatures that are out there. He's lost so many people over the years with this job.

"You were right, Y/N. I get it, okay? Even simple jobs are dangerous." Dean whispered, "Just wake up, damnit. I need you here."

Sam walked into the room to see how you and Dean were doing and he frowned when he saw you still hadn't woken up yet. He walked in and handed Dean a mug of coffee, which Dean thanked him for but just set it on the night stand.

"What if she doesn't make it, Sam? The last conversation we had with each other was just a stupid argument. Me and my hard head..."

"Dean, the last thing I think Y/N would want is for you to be sorry for yourself. Just give her some time to rest. We got there as soon as we could. Yeah she may have lost blood but those things can't suck humans dry in a matter of seconds. She'll wake up soon. Weak as hell, yeah, but don't start thinking she's gone just yet." Sam tried to reassure.

Then Sam left the room again, presumably to call Eileen and let her know what was going on.

Dean continued to stay in your room for another hour and a half. His head was down as he looked at your hand in his, looking at the wedding bands you both had on. Never in a million years did he think he would get married. And because of this stupid case, he could lose you. And he wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle that.

Meanwhile, you were coming to. You felt light headed you had to admit but you finally opened your eyes. You blinked a couple of times but you felt a familiar warmth on your hand. When you looked you saw your husband there by your side. He was unscathed for the most part which you were more than thankful for. He was alive, which made you glad.

But you saw the look on his face, the one with his face downcast and his brows narrowed as if he were lost in thought. You gave his hand the gentlest squeeze and you watched his head snap up and he looked instantly relieved when he realized your beautiful eyes were opened once again.

"Sweetheart, you're awake. How do you feel? Can I get you anything?" You heard him asking you and you laughed lightly.

"Dean, I could do without being bombarded with questions," You chuckled as he moved his chair closer to you, " But I'm okay. Just glad you're alright after all."

He looked at you with confusion. You were the one in bed recovering and you were talking about him being okay?

"Yeah... just fine." He said softly before he moved a strand of hair away from your face, "But you were right. Even the most basic of cases can be dangerous."

"Dean, I'm not worried about being right. I've been wrong about a lot too. I know that hunting is practically a part of your DNA. You were right, I should be more supportive of you going once in a while."

"Y/N, I'm retiring. For good this time." Dean said as his gaze softened.

"I'm getting to old to be on the field. I'm not in my twenties and thirties anymore. And even then, seeing you in danger like that and knowing that we really don't have a way to bring each other back anymore, it was a reality check I needed." He explained and he carefully reached out and cupped your cheek in his calloused hand. You leaned into his touch before reaching up and you moved a stray hair from his face.

"I just want you to be happy. I want you to be safe too but I know that I can't stop you from doing what you want to do." You said softly.

"I've been hunting my whole life. I think it's time for me to call it quits. I am happy here, especially since I have you. The world could crash and burn around me for the billionth time and I'd rather be here with you." He promised.

You smiled up at him, glad that he was making this choice after all. Maybe you could get back to your happily ever after.

"I love you, Dean Winchester." You said.

"I love you too, Y/N Winchester."

He slowly leaned in and you closed your eyes when you felt his soft yet slightly chapped lips capture yours in a sweet and loving kiss.

Thank You for Reading!!!

I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any suggestions for another scenario you'd like to read about!

Tag List:

@chriszgirl92 @wildernessflora

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter Two

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Their Scars 

It was strange being there, back in the Bunker in Lebanon. She’d been to visit a few times over the years, spending a night or two, but it had been weeks this time. It was nearly a month since Sam had called her and she’d dumped her duffle bag onto a bed and settled in. She didn’t expect to stay forever; she wasn’t moving in. She was just there to help, to give Sam support while he led an army of other-wordly hunters and searched for Dean. 

Dean. 

It felt odd being there without him. So strange to be around Sam knowing that Dean was nowhere close. In thirty years, Y/N didn’t know if she’d ever spent this much time alone with Sam. It wasn’t awkward, he was like a little brother she never got to know, but it was different. 

She didn’t know him as well, couldn’t read the messages left in the breaths between words, didn’t know how to decipher his silence. Luckily, he left more emotion on his face than his older brother ever did. 

He was hurting badly. Stressed and exhausted, Y/N didn’t know if he’d really slept since Dean’s disappearance. Every now and then, she would leave her post by the phones and drag Sam to the kitchen, shove some food down his gullet and then order him to bed. He would pick at the food, barely able to eat enough to sustain himself, and spend his nights awake with his foot tapping and his eyes darting across a computer screen. 

She couldn’t sleep much either, not that she usually did. Still, the thought of that psychotic archangel running around in Dean’s body made her skin crawl and falling asleep was near impossible. Most nights around two, she would wrap herself in a blanket and make her way down the hall to Sam’s bed. They would lay there in the deepest quiet, each peeling back the layers of their quadrant of the ceiling until their eyes hung heavy and their thoughts stilled.

An hour of sleep, maybe two before Sam couldn’t take it anymore and popped up. Some days, Y/N would join him, others she laid there wishing things were easier, praying that life would ease up on her boys eventually. 

It never did. 

Prayers meant nothing when Heaven was, more often than not, literally out to get you and God was indifferent to your pain. Even still, whenever she drove past a church, blew out a candle, peeked a shooting star, she would ask the universe to give them a break, if not a little peace. 

The War Room was crowded and overly warm. The air buzzed with voices and the annoying crinkle of papers being shuffled about. The place that had once been a Fortress of Solitude, inhabited by two, four souls at the most, was now filled to the rafters with bodies hustling from map to map, exchanging notes and making plans. 

It wasn’t so bad, really. It gave her something to do other than worry about Dean and figure out how to get Sam to care enough to take care of himself. 

The day was terribly strange. Sam had forced her to stay back while he went with Mary and Bobby to check out a lead, and she had been on edge ever since. She was cranky, anxious, and on the verge of snapping at anyone who looked at her too long. Knowing they would be back soon, she did her best to stay calm but it was difficult. She sat in her corner by the Bat Phone and managed her temper. 

Y/N slurped at her luke-warm coffee and stared at Joe while he rambled on about a possible lamia hunt in Baltimore. 

The scruffy but handsome hunter had slipped through the Rift with the rest of the group, and while he had fought for years with them against the angels, he had skipped a course or two about hunting the supernatural. If she remembered correctly, he had been a bank teller before the apocalypse, so it wasn’t his fault he was clueless, but it really would do him some good to read a lore book or ten.

“Um…” She swallowed the sugar-less brew and shook her head. “Yeah, it’s highly unlikely. Lamia generally hang out in the Mediterranean. Which, if I’m honest, sounds really fucking good right now.”

Joe’s nose and brows scrunched up and he scanned his phone again, scrolling up through the news article. “Yeah, but it says-” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was hot, sure, but not hot enough to excuse him not listening to her. Her jaw clenched and she took a deep breath. 

“Joe…” 

“It really looks like a lamia. I don’t see why-” 

“It’s not!” 

Joe jolted back a step and Y/N held out her hand in apology. 

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking tired. I just… It’s probably not a lamia, since they haven’t appeared in the U.S. since all that weirdness in 2010. But, if you really wanna investigate, go ahead. I just don’t think running off to Maryland right now is very helpful.” 

The man nodded and turned away, phone clutched in a slightly trembling hand. 

She knew she scared some of the new folks, but it wasn’t her fault. She had experience and little patience dealing with other people. 

“Joe-” She called to him before he got too far away and he looked back over his shoulder. “If it is… Rosemary, salt, and fire.” 

He smiled and gave a little wave. “Thanks.” 

“You should be nicer to them. They’re trying their best.” 

Y/N’s eyes turned from Joe to the angel that had appeared at her side. 

Castiel looked just as worn out as she felt. 

“I’m nice to them,” she defended. 

Blue eyes narrowed. “Are you?” 

She sighed. “No. But…” 

His eyebrows raised and she snapped her lips shut. She was still getting used to hanging out with someone who could read her mind if he chose to, and it was highly unsettling. She wondered if he could feel how nervous she was, how terrified that things were going wrong as they sat there waiting, doing nothing. 

“Sorry.” She slumped back against the wall and ran her fingers over the chipped coffee cup. “I’m just tired and worried that they’re not back yet.”

“We all are,” he told her. 

“And I’m really unhappy.” 

“That too,” he nodded. 

“When do we get to be happy, Castiel? When will all of this be over?” She looked up at him and pushed at a tear on her cheek. Exhaustion led her to cry more easily than usual and she hated it. She took a deep breath and her hand fell automatically to the chain around her neck. The lug nut was cool and she closed her fist around it. “When will he be safe?”

Castiel laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, but soon.” 

“How don’t you know?” She asked, blinking up at him. “Aren’t angels omniscient or some shit?” 

He laughed gently. “Unfortunately, no.” 

She smiled softly. “You should get on that. Might come in handy someday.” 

Squeezing her shoulder, he smiled. “It’ll be ok.” 

She barely believed him, but it was better than voicing the obvious. They hadn’t heard anything in hours. Dean might still be gone, or dead or worse. Michael was creating all kinds of chaos and trying to ruin the world. It seemed as if nothing would ever be better again. 

Something in the air suddenly shifted. The buzz dimmed and bodies blurred in her vision. The metal pendant in her fist warmed. 

Castiel tensed and withdrew his hand. 

Y/N gasped. 

“Dean.” 

He was there, standing in the doorway with Sam close behind. He looked thin and drained, as if he’d just come back from war. Green eyes scanned the rooms, confused by the crowd of people in his space, and he stood there, seemingly unable to make the decision to move. 

Y/N couldn’t contain the fury of emotions churning inside. Her soul ached, her veins tugged at her limbs, pulling everything towards the center of her being. She held her breath and stood up, ignoring the shaking in her hands and the tears trickling down her face. 

Jack got to him first and Dean hugged him kindly, but his gaze fell upon Y/N. 

Her stomach flipped and she gave him the saddest smile of her life. 

Y/N hung back as Castiel greeted him, relief and joy beaming from his sapphire eyes. They chatted a bit, put life back in place for the moment, and then Dean excused himself. He turned away but not before giving Y/N a secret look. He didn’t have to speak, didn’t need to call her over, she knew what he needed. 

She followed him down the hall and found him waiting around a corner. 

“Hey, Y/N/N.” 

She hesitated, boots squeaking on the tiled floor as she came to a halt. Her hand was still locked around her necklace and the nut burned against her palm. She held her breath, determined not to cry in front of him, but it was too late. She let the air out and with it came every moment of worry, every ounce of pain she’d felt in the last few months. She fell into his open arms and they stood there alone in the shadows of the hallway, silently holding each other together. 

The Bunker had a bathtub unlike any she’d ever seen before, and while it took forever to fill up, it was worth the wait. 

Y/N locked the door and fiddled with the tap. As the tub filled, she added a good amount of eucalyptus oil to the water and the fragrance filled the room. 

Dean tore the tuxedo vest from his back, balled it up in angry fists and tossed it aside. 

“This fucking thing,” he mumbled, ripping at the tiny buttons on his shirt. 

Without a word, she came up behind him and dragged her hands slowly up his back. He turned in her arms and she pushed his hands away. He stared down at her while she undid each button, carefully peeled the shirt from his arms.  

There was hurt in his eyes but she didn’t dwell on it, didn’t push him to speak. She opened his belt and Dean grabbed her hands, tugging them both up to his lips. He kissed the knuckles on each side and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against her warm skin for a moment. 

Every bit of her ached for him. 

“It’s OK,” she whispered. “You’re home.” 

The water was hot and the steam was heavenly. 

Y/N settled against the back of the tub and Dean lay against her, his head on her shoulder, his long body between her legs. She rubbed at his back, ran her nails gently over his scalp. She washed his body, soothed his soul. 

The scar on his arm was worrisome, but it could wait. She covered it with her hand and held him tight. 

Dean let himself relax, his muscles finally resting after being dragged to hell and back. He breathed deeply and melted into her, wanting to disappear inside her flesh, wishing she could swallow him whole and keep him locked inside forever. 

“I lied,” he said out of nowhere. 

Y/N ran her hands down his arms, dipping under the water and back up. “Oh?” 

“Told Sam I don’t remember anything. I do.” 

She held her breath and Dean sat up, pulling away from her touch. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said gently. “I get it.”

Water splashed as he cupped his hands and brought them to his face. He exhaled heavily and dragged a hand through his hair. 

“It was… bad, Y/N/N. It was really fucking bad.” 

He scooted away and she kicked her knees up to her chest, hiding as she hugged herself. High tide slipped over the edge of the tub as Dean turned and sat back opposite her. He faced her, but his eyes went elsewhere, anywhere but to her anguished face.  

“I was stuck inside. It was dark and freezing and I was… drowning, suffocating. Every fucking minute went on forever and I clawed at him, screamed, tried to climb out, to push him out.” He caught his breath and finally met her gaze. “I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough, I didn’t fight hard enough. I… I just couldn’t do it.” 

Fifteen years ago, Y/N had been possessed by a demon, some low-level pissant that took her for a joyride around Montgomery, Alabama. While it was terrible to be stuck inside, watching as her hands ripped a young boy apart, she couldn’t imagine the torture he went through. Demons were a bad time, but angels were nuclear reactors. She was surprised he was alive and lucid after his ordeal. 

“It’s not your fault, Dean. None of this was.” 

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I did all of this. I let him in. I said yes. Fuck, ten years ago I told him to fuck off and now- it wasn’t even a question. I just let him in.” 

Y/N sat forward, leaning in to get him to look at her. “You didn’t just let him in. You did what you had to do, what was best. And you know what? You fucking killed Lucifer. The Devil Himself is gone because of you. You did that. You had to.” 

“Did I?” 

“You did.” Under the water, she grabbed his hand and held it tight. “Dean, I know you’ve fucked up a lot. Shit, we all have. I fuck up constantly. Can’t even keep track of it anymore. But I know, hell, I’ve always known, that your fuck ups are never for nothing.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” 

She shook her head. “You know what I mean. You fuck up for the right reasons. You fuck up because you know it’s what needs to be done and in the end… it works out. Somehow, it always works out.” 

“How can you be so sure? What if this time it all crumbles?”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

“How?” 

“Castiel loaned me some of his omniscience.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, bit back a smile, licked his lips. “Cas doesn’t know shit.” 

Y/N shrugged. “Neither do you, so…” 

He laughed. 

She smiled. 

He would be alright.

The water moved again as Dean flipped onto his knees. Y/N watched the wave break over the ledge and onto the floor. 

“Sam’s gonna kill us if we flood the place,” she warned, cringing at the puddles on the floor. 

Dean slid between her legs and swam up close, his thick lashes nearly tangling with hers, his breath like an August breeze over her skin.

“Let him try.” 

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