#but reading it sounds like Dean just realized he can get some vamp dick in if Cas fucks off for a min

[holylulusworld]

Sammy

Summary: Only one person gets to call Sam, Sammy – right?

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

Warnings: light smut, mentions of oral (female receiving), language, mentions of blood, mentions of characters death

You hate the way Dean acts around that new hunter. Since John is gone Dean is out for blood. Sadly, Gordon Walker offers blood - a huge amount of blood.

Proudly he tells you he killed his sister when she got turned. Your stomach churns whilst your hunter instinct tells you to get away from that man. He’s trouble, dangerous even, you just know it.

Tense you meet Sam’s eyes, a mirror of your emotions. He crosses his arms over his wide chest, not liking the way Dean bonds with that cruel killer. Unbeknownst of your doubts Dean seems to be in his element, talking about the latest hunt with Gordon.

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Gordon muses, meeting your eyes but you look away, not liking the hunter.

“You all right, Sammy?” Dean watches his brother's face, hating Sam doesn’t seem to like their new hunting partner.

“Peachy, Dean. Everything is just great,” you can hear the venom in Sam’s voice.

“You should relax a bit, Sammy,” Gordon tries to flash a smile but it comes out wolfish and you shudder, liking him even less. You don’t know why you do not like him. He got the job done. Fast. Deadly. Precise.

When you hunt with other partners, you never had the feeling you need to watch your back. Neither Rufus nor Bobby ever gave you that much bad vibes.

Sam dips his head, jerking it toward his elder brother. “He's the only one who gets to call me that,” your stomach drops hearing Sam’s doesn’t like hearing anyone else but his brother calls him by his nickname, “and I can imagine better things to relax than decapitations,” Sam blushes, glancing at you but you didn’t catch his words or the way his eyes roamed your body.

“You can be a hunter and like it. Nothing wrong with having fun with your job,” the hunter raises his glass, glancing at you. “Right, Y/N?”

“I did not become a hunter to have fun, Mr. Walker. I did become a hunter as a pack of werewolves ripped my family and best friend apart,” you get up slamming the bottle of beer you were nursing onto the table. “I do not love my job or have fun killing monsters and risking my life. I do it as this is the way to pay those bastards back who ruined my life. Excuse me if you using unnecessary violence and cruelty doesn’t float my boat,” you turn to leave, storm off without looking back.

“I’ll talk to her,” Sam gives his brother a disapproving look. “She ain’t wrong, Dean. Before I kill the mood too, I’ll go back and take care of our friend.”

“Y/N, wait,” Sam slings his arm around your shoulders, pressing you to his chest. “I am sorry that guy is an ass.”

“I saw it in his eyes, he loved killing those vamps, Sam. I mean, I do it too but only to save people and prevent others from getting hurt or killed,” you look up at Sam, giving him a sad smile. “We shouldn't work with him again.”

“I’ll call Ellen and Bobby, dig out some information when we are back at the motel,” Sam presses his forehead against yours, humming when you sigh his name.

“Great idea, Sam,” it’s the first time you did not use his nickname, and Sam wonders if you are mad at him too. “I can have a shower meanwhile, wash the bad feeling of my body.”

“What did Bobby and Ellen say?” Sam gulps watching you walk out of the shower in a towel. You need to repeat your question and snap your fingers in front of Sam’s face until he finally realizes you talked to him. “Sam?”

“Didn’t reach Bobby, guess he’s on a hunt too,” nodding you sit onto the bed to search for clean clothes, failing epically. “Ellen, I do not know her well but I don’t think she would lie to me,” you nod again, still rummaging in your bag.

“Do you have a clean shirt for me, Sam?” you snicker when Sam nods, eyes glued to your exposed legs. “Sam? Sam, did you hear me?”

“Yeah…sure,” his eyes drift toward your chest, imagining to run his tongue over your nipples he tugs at his suddenly too-tight pants. “I’ll give it to you.”

“Great,” jumping up you hold out your hand, wondering why Sam’s eyes are glued to your legs. He seems to be lost in thoughts before you can watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “The shirt?”

“Ellen, she said Gordon Walker means trouble,” whilst Sam gets up to hand you one of his clean shirts you drop the towel, revealing you are only in your panties.

Even though you have your back toward Sam you can feel his gaze on you. “So my instinct was right. I sensed that guy is dangerous.”

“Dangerous, right,” you shiver feeling Sam’s fingertips slide over your exposed back. “So dangerous and beautiful.” His lips press soft kisses along your shoulder, and you melt against the hunter.

The shirt in your hands drops to the floor feeling his hands slide over your stomach to hold you against his chest. “Why don’t you call me Sammy anymore,” Sam’s voice is not boyish any longer. There is an edge in it letting your panties dampen. “I like it when you call me Sammy.”

“You said,” Sam slips his hand into your panties and you lean your head against his body, “only Dean can call you Sammy.”

“I wanted to rile that asshole up, baby,” his fingers toy with your clit while you melt into Sam’s body. “Now I want you to be good and spread wider to let me make you feel good.”

“Sammy,” voice trembling you follow Sam’s order, spread your legs to let him run his fingers along your slick folds. “Please…”

Dean didn’t come back to the motel room and you thanked whoever is up there for that or he would’ve witnessed you scream Sam’s nickname in different octaves.

Right now, he has you spread out, legs pushed up to your chest to go even deeper.

Sweat runs out of every pore of your body, your voice became hoarse half an hour ago whilst he was between your thighs, but Sam is still going at it.

His shaggy hair glued to his forehead, a dirty grin on his lips he pushes deeper into you with every thrust.

You cannot look away, can’t break eye contact as it seems the boy you once knew is gone, replaced by a wild man claiming your body.

“You feel so good around me, Y/N,” Sam angles his hips, gives you quick and hard thrusts to push you violently over the edge.

Shuddering you listen to the squelching sound of his dick sliding into your body, praying this is not a one time thing to Sam.

“Sammy,” whining you slip one hand between your legs, pressing hard down your clit to make sure the next thrust sends you over the edge. “I love…oh-my god…”

“There you go, baby…”

“So…” Dean glances at you on Sam’s bed, wearing only his brother’s shirt while Sam looks like he got caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. “Did she calm?”

“I found a way to take the edge off,” Sam smirks now, striding toward his bed.

Chest puffed he sits onto the bed, pride in his eyes. He gently runs his large hand up and down your back, pressing a soft mumble of his name out of you.

“A way,” watching you snuggle into Sam’s side when he lies next to you Dean rolls his eyes. “You can’t just have sex with our hunting partner.”

“She’s my girl, not our hunting partner,” now Sam wraps his arms protectively around you. “I deserve something good in my life, Dean. She’s my light in this endless darkness we try to escape…”

SPN Forever Tags

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-------------------------------------- 

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

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[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

A Death Sentence

[Credit gif by @rainbow-motors​ ]

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Implied smut

Prompts: “I don’t owe you an explanation,” “Loving me is a death sentence.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,201

Summary: Dean and the Reader have a fight after a hunt. Nothing even went wrong, but feelings are realized.

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I couldn’t, for the life of me figure out a title. But this is for @supernatural-jackles​ SPN Bi-Weekly/Monthly writing challenge and these are the prompts I picked. I picked monthly but, I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m just going with it.

~

“Anything?” Dean asks. Sam, him and Y/N search the warehouse for the vampires that had made headlines for killing so many people in a short period of time. Now they’re here to put a stop to it.

Latest victim was a college student, out of state, moved here to go to school. Classmates said she was on edge, anxious all the time and just figured it was because she was far from home. Seemed logical.

“Nothing.” Sam shouts from his spot on the higher levels, coming out into the open in the main most center spot of the warehouse.

“Clear from where I am.” She says, coming into the main area from the lower levels.

“Damn, did we lose them?” Dean asks.

“Maybe.” Sam says, coming down the stairs to meet with Dean. Y/N doing the same, ascending the stairs to meet with the boys.

Sam and Dean were close, Y/N still had a few feet before she was with them and she noticed a few dark figures closing in on her friends.

“Behind you!” she shouts, running in to fight off the three vamps that snuck behind them.

One lunged at Dean knocking him onto his back, another swung at Sam flinging him a few feet from where he stood. And another side tackled Y/N to the ground.

She took the momentum of her roll to her advantage, pushing herself up in one motion from the fall. The vamp trying to close in, but Y/N swung her machete cutting the head off in one swift motion.

Sam managed to fight off his attacker, slicing the head off in an upward swing as the female vamp charged.

Dean struggled with his attacker. He must have knocked Dean’s machete out of his hand when he landed on the floor. The vamp managed to get a hand at Dean’s throat forcing him to expose his neck to the vamp.

“Hey!” Y/N shouts. “It’s me you want!” she says.

With blood lust eyes, the vampire looked up at Y/N.

“Y/N! No, don’t play hero!” Sam shouted.

“Bute Montana, that was your allied nest. Not very big, believe your mate was Wynonna, she took a bite at me, but things didn’t pan out for her.” She says.

The vamp rose, taking long strides over to Y/N. She readied her machete. “She spoke about you, Kyle.” She says.

He growled at her. Taking a swing, but Y/N ducks to avoid it. And when she tried to swing her machete at him, he blocked and knocked it out of her hand. She saw Dean behind him, machete in hand, readies a swing.

“She always said you were easy to fool.” Y/N adds with a smirk.

Before he could turn around to attack Dean, Dean swung the machete. Ending the killings in Columbus Ohio.

She released a sigh in relief, but Dean just glared at her.

Y/N rolls her eyes. Oh, get over yourself, he was going to kill you. I had to do something. She thought.

The ride back to the motel was a quiet one, but the tension was there. You could even cut it with a knife.

Everyone though knew Dean was pissed when he slams the car door shut, even the trunk door when he grabbed his duffle.

They got one room available, thankfully with two beds. But no so much for Y/N. Dean was pissed and it’s always the same thing. And it just made her feel like no matter what she did, even if the hunt ended great with no one hurt, like she wasn’t good enough.

“The fuck were you thinking!” Dean yelled, when Sam entered behind Y/N, shutting the door behind them.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad!” Y/N shouted. “I saved you, no one got hurt. What’s the big deal?” she asked.

“The big deal is, you risked your life when you didn’t have to.” Dean shouted. “Why do you always do that?” he adds. Growling in frustration.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.” She snaps.

“I think you do; he would have killed you if I hadn’t had him.” Dean says.

“No, I don’t owe you anything. I saved you, you still got to kill the vamp. No one got hurt. Happy ending. Now let’s just get over it.” She says.

“No, I’m not getting over this. In fact, I’m benching you. This is the third time a monster nearly has our asses, you do this. It’s like you’re asking for it.” Dean says.

“I’m not, I’m using it as a distraction, and it works.” She argues.

“Well it’s a shit idea, oldest play in the play book. No wonder you’re a shit hunter.” Dean says.

“Dean!” Sam shouts.

But the damage was done. The words cut like knifes at her heart. Hunting was something she loved to do. Something close to making a difference in this dark world she lived in.

“Well if I’m being such a pain, I’ll just leave.” She says. Picking up her back up and storms out of the room.

“Way to go dick.” Sam scoffs.

“Whatever, she’ll be back. Let’s get some sleep.” Dean says.

She never did. She kept walking down the street until she got to a bar in town.

I need a drink. She thought. Finding a spot at the bar, waving down a bartender.

“What can I get you little lady?” he says. A sweet southern accent to his tone.

“Whisky, neat.” She says.

“Coming right up,” he says, getting her glass and giving her somewhat of a generous amount of whiskey. “Rough night?” he asks.

“You have no idea.” She says, throwing back the drink. Welcoming the burn, it caused going down her throat.

“Let me know if you need anything darlin’.” He says, tending to the other patrons of the bar. Leaving her the bottle of whisky.

She gives herself another glass full.

“Hey beautiful.” A deep voice said behind her. Her back tensed. His voice gave her the creeps.

“Not interested, back off.” She says.

“Oh, feisty. I like that.” He says. “I’m Jason.” He introduces.

“Jason, you’re going to be introduced to my knee to your groin if you don’t back off.” She says glaring at him.

“A ball of spitfire at that. Bet your just as amazing in bed as you are at making friends.” He says.

“Worst. Pick up line. Ever.” She says with a groan. Getting frustrated and annoyed.

He places a hand on her shoulder. She shrugs him off harshly.

“I don’t recall saying you can touch.” She shouts.

“I always get what I want, and I say, I want you and I’ll fucking get you.” He says aggressively. His hand having a death grip on her bicep.

Fucking fuck, I’m fucked. She thought.

Her knee found its way to his groin, and he went down fast and hard.

She took her duffle and went into the women’s restroom, locking up behind her.

She can’t run, the duffle not only slows her down, but she doesn’t have a vehicle to get away.

She grabs her cellphone, calling the one number she doesn’t want to call right now. But she needs him to rescue her.

“Hello?” Dean answers after a few rings.

“Dean.” She says, coming out a whimper.

“Y/N? What is it? Are you okay?” He’s already concerned.

“I need you. I’m at a bar up the main road, not far from the motel. There’s this guy, he’s trying to…” she trails as sobs begin to erupt.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I’m coming now. Just stay where you are.” Dean says.

“I’m in the women’s restroom. I’ll wait for you.” She says. Hanging up.

She sits in the corner stall, sitting on the stool with knees up to her chest. The always tough and badass hunter scared out of her wits.

It didn’t take long, roughly ten minutes after hanging up from Dean, there was a knock at the door.

“Sweetheart, it’s me, Dean.” She heard.

She hurries to the door. Unlocking it to reveal Dean, concern etched all over. Replaced the anger she saw earlier.

“Where is this dick?” he asks when he sees her with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“The bar, tall muscular build. He’s about Sam’s size but more muscular.” She says.

Dean turned his head to the side to see from the corner of his eye this asshole.

She could see Dean tense up, wanting to just make the dude pay for hurting her.

“Dean, I just want to get out of here. Please.” She pleads.

“Alright, stay close sweetheart.” He says, taking her hand.

Her bag still in hand, she takes Dean’s, he pulls her close to his side. As he walks with her to navigate out, Jason approached.

“Hey, come on darlin’, you don’t need this shorty here.” He slurs.

“Dude, I told you I’m not interested. Now leave me alone.” She tells him.

“Come on baby, I’ll make you feel so good.” He continues.

“Pal, she said to lay off.” Dean says, putting his hand out to tell Jason to keep his distance. If he’d listen to him.

“Kiss my ass pretty boy.” Jason insults, shoving Dean’s hand out of the way.

“Okay.” Dean goes. Mildly annoyed and frustrated. He gets himself between Y/N and the dick. And reels his fist back and punches Jason, knocking him out cold. “There.” Dean goes, taking Y/N back into his side, keeping her safe.

The drive back the motel was a quiet one, but Dean didn’t show that he was upset. And Dean could read her as well and he didn’t want to upset her any more than she was.

Once back, she had seen Sam was sound asleep in one of the beds. Dean quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Why don’t you take a hot shower, relax a little bit.” Dean suggests.

She agrees silently. Taking her clothes from her duffle she heads to the bathroom, and silently takes a shower.

She exits the shower, more relaxed but still a feeling of not being good enough was eating at her.

Dean was already down in the other bed. She settled with sleeping on the couch.

“Sweetheart, you need a bed to sleep in. I won’t bite.” Dean whispers.

“I don’t want to right now.” She says.

“Then do you want to talk about our fight from earlier?” Dean says. She stays silent. He could see her curl up inside of herself. She doesn’t want to.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it. You’re not a shit hunter. I just said that because I was mad. You’re an excellent hunter. I just don’t like it that you put yourself in danger like that.” He adds.

“I just can’t stand to see you get hurt when I could do something to prevent it. So, I act. Anything I can do to help protect the man I love.” She whispers.

“You don’t wanna let yourself love me sweetheart, loving me is like a death sentence. Everyone I ever loved has either left me or died.” Dean says quietly.

“Too late Dean, I love you and you can’t make me stop.” She says.

“You’re right. Because I love you to sweetheart. And it scares me when you do stuff like that.” Dean admits.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.” She says softly.

“Can you come here now, so I can hold you.” Dean says, making room for her in the bed with him.

She doesn’t hesitate. She gets up, and crawls in, curling up into Dean. Snuggling her face his chest.

Dean laid on his side, he works his arms around her to hold her close. She snuggles more into him. And she lets her walls break down, and she lets go of the stress of the night.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m right here. Let it all out.” Dean whispers, as he draws soothing circles in her back.

She calmed down a bit before looking up at Dean, in the dark, moonlit room.

She could see the softness in his face. She felt him dip his head down, giving her a soft, gentle kiss on her lips.

It took her a moment to kiss him back once she registered in her brain that Dean Winchester just kissed her. And now she was kissing him back. It was better than she had imagined.

The kiss growing into something deeper and hungrier as they discarded their clothes, Dean showing just how much he loves his girl.

The next morning Sam was the first up and at ‘em, once he enters the room after a morning run to find them full dressed and decent, he was actually relieved that she was back and happy.

“Glad to see things are okay again.” He says as he sees Dean kiss Y/N on the cheek while they make breakfast in the kitchenette. “But please, next time you guys do make up sex…try to wait until we get home.” He says. His face disgusted by the sounds he heard last night.

The statement made Y/N laugh, giving the younger Winchester an apologetic smile. “Sorry Sam.” She says.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy. We’ll keep that in mind next time.” Dean says. Kissing Y/N on the mouth, passionately. Earning a groan from Sam.

Y/N and Dean smiling against their kiss. Oh, this is going to be fun.

~

Tags:

@supernatural-jackles​ - for the writing challenge

@pandazombie69​

@luci-in-trenchcoats​

@becs-bunker​

@winchesters-favorite-girl​

@mlovesstories​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 09/16/2020

[wayward-mikaelson]

Heavenly Crush

Word Count: 1599

Pairing: Cas x Reader

Characters: Cas, Dean, Sam, and Reader

About: When Dean buts into the Readers sex life she cant stop thinking about Cas. When she sees Cas, they both share a small intimate moment.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Dirty Thoughts, Fantasizing, Blood and Gore

A/N: If you know a Cas/Misha lover tag them below! 

A/N 2: Request close in under 12 hours. 11.59 USA Central time! Send me those pictures or gifs or songs and what you want in it.

Forever Tag List: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @hobby27​ @squirrelnotsam​ @440mxs-wife​

*18+ CONTENT. YOUNGER THAN 18 MUST MOVE ON

**DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND WITHOUT GIVING ME THE PROPER CREDIT. I WORK TOO HARD ON THESE STORIES FOR THEM TO BE STOLEN.

***ALL WORKS ARE POSTS ON IG, AO3, WATTPAD. GO SHOW THEM SOME LOVE THERE TOO.

"We need to get you laid?" Dean says walking into the bunker and tossing his bag onto the table. I choke on whatever saliva I have in my mouth. "See right there! That would have been perfect if it were around some poor guys dick."

"Shut up," Both Sam and I say. "I do not need to be picturing myself giving some awful head right now." I continue. Sam flops into the chair closest to him. "Especially looking like I do. I'm sure I have Vamp guts on me." Our vampire hunt almost went south until Dean realized he had packed the freaking grenade launcher. When he shot it, vampire guts and body parts flew everywhere. "And stay out of my sex life unless you want me all up in yours Mister Right Now."

"Fuck you," Dean says making a face. He hates when I call him that when he buts into my non existent sex life.

"Oh, honey, I already do," I blew a kiss towards him. Sam is passed out and has missed the whole thing.

I make my way towards the bathroom. I've been with the boys for maybe six months. Both have tried making moves on me but they both failed. I didn't see them like that. They were more like brothers to me. Really, really annoying brothers who bickered almost all the damn time. I really have eyes for one person and that Castiel, our angel friend.

Once in the bathroom. I turn shower all the way on hot. Why? Well after this hunt, I feel the need to burn my skin to get all the vampire guts off me. I turn to the mirror and see that the damage is far, far worse than I imagined. Small chunks of vampire are stuck in my hair. Pieces of skin are stuck of my face. Dried blood is just about everywhere. "I guess that's what happened when I'm in the the splash zone," I begin to slip out of my clothes.

I carefully get into the shower and start to scrub my body, hair, and hard to get places. I want the smell and sign of it all off me. Once I am satisfied with my wash, I sit on the shower floor and just let the water run all over me.

I lean back and close my eyes and think of all the things I like about Cas. His eyes for one. The shade of blue always makes you want to drown in them. Then his smile when he was genuinely happy. That smile was always so rare to see and it always makes my knees weak. Then there was the way he talked and was always confused about certain things. The way he says hello to me and looks at me as if he's trying to read my mind. Well, maybe he can since he's an angel and all, I think to myself.

Then I start to think about the dirty stuff. I think of how those hands would feel on my skin. His voice in my ear. His body wrapped around mine. I bite my lip just thinking where it all could go. But I doubt it. Cas is an angel. I just want him so bad, I don't sleep or flirt with anyone at a bar of a town we roll through.

I sigh and turn the water off and get out of the shower. I look in the mirror to find I was squeaky clean minus the few cuts and scraps I got from being thrown around. I even start to see a few bruises starting to form. Oh well, I think, I've seen hotter days. I wrap the towel around me and waltz out of the bathroom without a care in the world. I run into something or someone and that someone balanced me on my feet and held me back. I feel my face start to burn when I feel the familiar gentle hands and see the beige trench coat.

"I was just coming to check in on you."

Cas's voice threw me for a spin and put me in a trance. I begin to envision me dropping my towel and jumping him. I picture slamming my lips to his and him backing me up onto a wall ripping the towel away.

"YN," Cas's voice also snaps me out my trance. "

"What?" I ask shaking my head.

"I asked if you were okay." Cas says. "You have some scrapes and bruises. Will you like it if I healed them?"

I smile. "Yeah," Damn my stupid day dream. I watch as Cas presses two fingers to my head and I close my eyes and sigh. I feel all the aching in my body fade out and disappear for good. Well, until the next time I need to be healed.

Cas pulls back his hand and I see a confused look on his face. "What?" I ask. "Do I still have blood or something in my hair?" I use my free hand to ruffle my hair around.

"No," Cas grabs my hand and I instantly feel my face turn red. I look away. "I never realized I had such an effect on you. I mean, I cannot hear your thoughts but, I can pick up on emotions. Yours are screaming whenever I am around you. I never knew until now."

I feel my face get hotter. I gently pull my hand away and turn away. "I gotta get dressed."

I hurry to my room and throw clothes on and sit on my bed. What the hell just happened? I toss over and bury my face in my pillow. Cas can't read my mind? But can read my flipping emotions? And they're screaming? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I scream into the pillow until I need to lift my head up to breath. I feel like a teenage school girl whose crush finally found out I like them.

I sit up and stare at the ground until I hear a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and compose myself. I get up and answer the door to see Cas standing there. Hes looking to the side and I follow his gaze and see Dean poking his head around the corner. He's giving okay and thumbs up hand signals. Dean sees me and stops and disappears. I sigh and let Cas in and close the door.

"I'm assuming Dean has something to do with this?" I ask watching Cas look around my room. It's the cleanest but, it also doesn't look like Deans.

Cas nods and looks back at me. "Yes, I inquired about your emotions I feel each time I am around you. He says that you might have what you humans call a crush on me. But I do not understand why you would want to crush me?" I cover my mouth and laugh. "What is so funny?"

I walk up to the confused angel with a smile on my face. "Cas," I say taking hold of his trench coat and I fiddle with the button closest to my fingers. "I don't want to crush you." I giggle again. "What Dean means is, I like you more than as a friend." I contemplate kicking Deans ass for telling Cas I have a crush on him.

"What is  more than a friend?" Cas ask looking deep in your eyes.

I take a deep breath because I know he will still be confused. I let go of his coat and take hold of his face. I reach my face up to his and gently kiss his lips. His lips are chapped but I didn't care. I feel Cas's hand on my face and he pulls back slowly. I'm confused by the look he gives me. Shock? Weird? Surprised?

"I see now," He says keeping his hands on my face. His thumbs brush my cheeks and I'm not sure if he knew he was doing that. "I think I, too, have a crush on you and like you more than as a friend." I smile and Cas pulls my face back to his and this time, this kiss is deeper and full of longing.

Cas's hands slide down to my hips and walks me back towards the dresser. He effortlessly picks me up and sits me on top of it. I hear him shrug off his coat and toss it to the side without breaking the kiss. I begin to reach for the button of his pants. Then out of know where there is a soft sliding sound.

"I'm slipping some condoms under the door for you guys," Deans voice is heard from the other side. "I mean, I don't know how strong they have to be for an angel but these are the thick kind that don't bust."

"Oh for fucks sake," Sams voice is also heard. "Leave the two of them alone."

By now, Cas has pulled apart and has gotten his coat back on. I still sit on the dresser contemplating on kicking Deans ass still. Cas walks up to me and helps me off the dresser. "I still feel your emotions are screaming maybe this can settle them until we get the proper alone time. You know, so that I can get my hard angelic dick deep inside you." Cas softly presses his lips to mine for a few seconds before leaving the room.

Such talk coming from an angel had me turned on in ways I couldn't describe. Until next time.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

A Study In Eye-fucking

PROMPT:

So I have this hc that when dean and cas are doing their whole staring-at-each-other-for-far-too-long thing, that cas is actually communicating with dean telepathically. He only does this with dean, and dean secretly likes that it’s their own special thing so doesn’t tell Sam. But when everyone else thinks they’re having eye-sex, they’re actually having their own private conversations. Feel free to write about this or not-no pressure either way❤️

HI, and first of all, I absolutely loved @xcaitlin-mayx 's headcannon, and was completely swept off my feet thinking of what direction I wanted to take ~ but then, uh, Life approached and I was thrown off my track. So, uh, I’m truly sorry for the really late answer ~ but I finally wrote something, and I really hope this is kind of what you had in mind, friend!

Edit: Posting this fic was a real task, because this is the third try, and it's finally ready. I'm sorry for the delay. And we need to thank the asker and @zoerayne2426 for their help in getting it here, after I lost it yesternight! Fic starts here:

***

Dean Winchester was pretty goddamn sure that he, Sam and Cas together were the best damn hunters in the World.

But not every hunt defines you as a hunter. Some days, you take out an entire coven of witches within a couple of days, or hunt down a century-old god, who had recently taken to being a dick.

Other days, a single vampire nest could take a long and tiring week, and you could still end up handcuffed to rusted barrels in an abandoned barn with your angel, trying to stall them from drinking you dead until your brother could figure out where the both of you were kidnapped to, and save the day.

“We aren’t giving Dean Winchester up in exchange for you, blue-eyes.” The apparent leader tossed her head, her attention completely taken by Cas. “Everybody knows you can’t sucking off an angel isn’t fun, right, gorgeous?” She added, in Dean’s general direction, making him want to knock her out even more than he already did.

If she wanted to make an innuendo, she didn’t even do that right.

“But that way, you’d at least have one of us.” Castiel reasoned, but Dean recognized his voice as insincere. At least he hoped. The plan was to waste time. Not give themselves over to dumb, evil bitches.

“What do you mean, right now, we have both of you?” She threw back.

“Not for long.” Dean spat, from his position on the ground. His hands were tied behind him, and he was unable to look up straight without the shooting pain at the back of his neck.

“If this is about Winchester XL, lemme just say, that he’s not coming to save you anytime soon.” She smirked.

Dean saw red, instantly. “Listen here, you -”

“Come on, Ken, you stay here with these two. I’m going to go take a look at the others,” She commanded, and the guy walked over in Cas’s general region, the proximity uncomfortable, as he waited wordlessly with his eyes on Dean, and his hand on the iron pole to which Castiel was tied - they had angel cuffs tying his wrists to chains and their bulkiest vampire assigned to the task, while Dean had been simply punched until he was rendered the equivalent of a sack of swearing potatoes and cuffed on the stone cold floor. It wasn’t exactly fair.

Moreover, the new guy didn’t look like he’d take any of their shit if they tried to negotiate him into a get-out-of-jail-alive card, and who was content enough to be a breathing stone pillar as he was told to be.

Oh, curse God for villains who didn’t monologue or had ambitions.

Listen!

A voice suddenly hissed at him, though he couldn’t hear it, and he raised his head harshly enough to get whiplash. He let it fall once more.

What was Dean’s conscience trying to tell him, right now? (Don't get caught by demons the next time, or you end up with a helluva crick in your neck?)

Dean!

The voice in Dean’s head usually used less flattering curse words for him. It didn’t call him Dean.

We can get out of here! Dean! Can you hear me?

Wait a fucking minute, this sounded like Cas.

And not in the my-family-is-my-voice-of-reason sense. Not even in the angel-on-my-shoulder sense.

Dean could, honest to god, hear Castiel’s voice in his head. It was not quite Jimmy’s voice though, it was all in all Cas! How Dean could tell them apart, he had no speck of an idea.

But - how?

You can hear me, can’t you?

Dean painstakingly raised his head to meet the angel’s eyes. Ken, or whatever his name was, wasn’t looking at Dean anymore, he was looking at Cas. Cas, on the other hand, had his eyes focused on Dean for sure.

Dean nodded, in response to the question from before.

Is it really you? He thought real hard, and saw Cas wince a little bit.

You don’t need to shout! We’ve already established that the connection is stable. And of course, it IS me.

Dean could feel his head whirring towards a more paranoid headache.

What connection, what the fuck is even happening? How are you doing this? He breathed.

Cas gave him a glare, that looked awfully like, that’s not a priority, though Dean didn’t hear it ring through his brain.

Dean. Listen to me. When these vampires were disarming me, I made sure to push my angel blade away. It’s got to be somewhere near you. You need to get it.

Dean instantly began to fumble around, clumsily. The vamp in the room turned sharply to him.

“Just an itch.” Dean excused, before going very still. This time, his eyes didn’t leave Dean. He still held onto Castiel’s iron chains.

Dean looked down at himself, to avoid eye contact. Are you sure it’s somewhere behind me?

There was no response.

No voices at all.

Dean looked up again, and suddenly Cas’s voice came in again. You need to keep looking into my eyes.

An involuntary heat rushed up Dean’s throat. He suddenly paid an extraordinary amount of attention to the blue, blue eyes of his friend. Castiel went on. I’m not an archangel, only they can communicate without it.

Dean swallowed, and forced a smile at the big lug who still glared at Dean, before he met Castiel’s eyes again. He was careful to not be expressive. Cas had it easy, he rarely looked like he meant something he said, or thought. He repeated himself. Are you sure it’s behind me?

No. Followed by a distinct, But you need to look. It's our only chance.

Dean almost nodded but remembered that the vampire still had his eyes on him, so stressed out an Okay.

Don’t scream your affirmations in my head, please. Castiel deadpanned, even his voice adorning a very Cas-like tone. Dean felt the twitch of a smile.

He began to look, much more subtle this time.

I’ve got it. He thought softly, before realizing he didn’t need to whisper in this - whatever the hell this kind of communication network was.

Use it.

Castiel didn’t even have to think it at him, his eyes did the job. A single touch of the blade to the ropes had them loosening. Hopefully not melting, though, but Dean couldn’t turn his head to see. Angel blades were apparently multi-utility tools.

Once the ropes were severed, it was Dean Winchester’s turn to shine. Ken got an elbow in the face, and a kick in the shin before Dean began to cut off Castiel’s chains, and when Ken showed up again and had Dean in a surprise headlock - what an ideal villain - Dean stabbed him with the blade, and deftly cut his throat off.

The tale of how the hunter and his angel, freshly freed and armed, got from there to the motel room, was one which has been told several times.

***

Sam was very much asleep when Dean and Castiel had time to talk, Castiel had healed him but he had bled out a lot, and Dean’s insistence that he take some rest, had resulted in sam beginning to use his laptop whilst on his bed - and soon slumping off to sleep, with it’s screen still lit.

Dean later shut down the computer, while Castiel pulled the sheets over his legs.

Being a hunter had very few perks, but it had several drawbacks, such as having to go out of the small room to have a serious conversation - lest you risk waking up your brother who, as all hunters, was prone to light sleep.

Dean almost pulled Castiel outside, and deciding that talking outside the door would be ridiculous, so they walked all the way outside the motel. Dean leaned against the impala, and Castiel stood straight and watched him.

At the moment, it had been easy enough to get over the realization, that he and castiel were communicating through thoughts. There was pain, and there was danger - and there was the factor of time.

Now under the starlit sky, it was just Dean and Cas, and like hell, there weren’t questions.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “What the hell was that, back in the barn? With the-” His eyes were wide with shock, when he met Castiel’s again. “With the goddamn mind reading, Cas!”

“I..” Castiel didn’t sound as sure as Dean would’ve assumed he was going to. “I just tried something. And it worked.”

“What did you try?” Dean pursed his lips.

“To see if I could tell you something,” Castiel was still uncertain how he would explain something like this to Dean. “Without saying it aloud.”

“Yeah, well, your dick-ish brothers and sisters have gotten into my head often enough,” Dean snapped. “This was different. I was in control too! I could send things back that route through!”

“I agree,” Cas nodded. “It was like a telepathic connection.”

“I’m not.. Psychic or whatever, Cas! I can’t do this shit, eye contact or not!” Dean recalled.

“Dean.” Castiel sounded more firm. “It was a moment of distress. Those vampires would’ve turned you, and found the blade soon enough to kill me too. And I felt like - there was something I could do.”

“Just like that?” Dean was quieter.

“It was like a string, within reachable distance, and I strained my grace to get to it. And I could pull it. So I did, and..and you picked it up then, by looking into my eyes.” It was as if Castiel was explaining it to himself too, not just to Dean.

“I don’t know how I ‘picked’ anything up.” Dean wondered aloud. Helpless. “I don’t it know how it worked, at all-”

“Dean” Castiel suddenly walked towards him. There was only a foot of distance between their chests, and Castiel blinked clearly at him. “Look at me.”

Dean hesitantly raised his eyes from the ground, and felt them flicker all over Cas’s features. He was embarrassed, because Cas may be dense in general, but anyone would understand if a dude’s eyes kept flitting back to your lips, right? Rigidly, Dean made himself focus on Cas’s eyes. They were ocean blue in the sun, but tinted with the grey of the late evening right now. It was certainly not the first time Dean noticed the angel’s eyes. “I am.”

“Would you… could you really look into my eyes?” Castiel asked, he sounded so sincere, that Dean didn’t have it in himself to make a lewd joke.

He simply obeyed, letting himself drown in the black pupils, not letting his sight wander past the beautiful hues of the iris, or-

Dean!

Dean blinked suddenly, and Castiel clasped his bicep with his right hand, to make him focus. His eyes sought all of Dean's attention.

Dean?

So now, this is apparently a thing. Dean thought, and somehow it was enough. We’re telepathy buddies, who think into each other’s heads.

For a long moment, Cas simply looked into his eyes. But Dean didn’t hear anything from him. There was a pleasant silence of all of Cas’s attention on him.

It was when Dean began to wonder if the connection had broke, or if Dean was suddenly incapable of hearing Cas’s thoughts anymore, that a small, mellow voice he hardly recognized as Cas came floating through the front of his brain.

It was unsure, and almost a little timid. Maybe even sad. It wasn't what Dean expected.

Is this so bad?

Of course it wasn’t, who was he kidding? But Cas’s face had crumbled into an apologetic look, though his eyes stayed focused on Dean’s- and Dean understood that not everything he thought was audible to Cas. It was - it was perfectly under his control too!

However, that meant that Cas believed that Dean hated this- except the truth was far from it. It was unbelievable, yes; but this was Cas. It wasn’t - it couldn’t be… bad. Dean suddenly wondered how much of his thoughts were audible to Cas, not quite having a good hold on it yet.

I never said that. Dean swallowed, as if testing waters. It’s weird, not gonna lie, but it isn't exhausting, and it could be helpful. And okay, maybe it could be fun-ishh too.  

Castiel smiled a bit, and his eyes suddenly seemed to light up literally, and a wave floated through the ‘string’ apparently, uplifting Dean’s spirits too. He smiled too, realizing that he’d never seen Cas smile, this real and beautiful, up close.

And then he suddenly stopped smiling, realizing that he’d never seen Cas smile, this real and beautiful, this up close, and that had just made him smile.

Whoa, Winchester - bring it down a notch. He looked away, almost on instinct, a heat crawling up his neck.

“This is gonna need some getting used to,” Dean declared, putting his own hand on Castiel’s shoulder - because apparently two grown men staring deeply into each other’s eyes in the parking lot of a cheap motel, wasn’t inappropriate enough to be considered gay, with only one of them touching the other.

(If someone were doing a commentary on Dean’s life, they’d need to pepper in the fact of how the oldest Winchester was truly prone to being a helping hand to bring about situations which embarrassed him infinitely, in the confines of his own head, later.)

Dean pulled off his hand, almost that very next moment, and turned away from him, towards Baby. Thinking. There was so much to think about.

“Can I tell you something?” Castiel spoke up, his voice ever so thoughtful. “This is not… the first time I saw this. Angels can do it, angels who were raised together, who have fought together. Archangels find it simple. But seraphs like us?” He sighed. “Uriel had recently discovered we were able to do it, just a few decades back, but we tried it rarely, and now he..”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean meant it, and he bit his lip. “But, what about me? I wasn’t - I’m not him, and I wasn’t raised with you, angel.” It didn’t strike him that he’d just called Castiel angel until sufficiently later, half-asleep in bed and replaying the conversation, and it was a miracle that he didn’t panic out of sight when it happened.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Castiel spoke, after a pause. “But there were stories. Of humans being able to do this, rarely. Very rarely.”

“What did I do -?” Dean stopped, not saying ‘wrong’, because Cas would probably not understand he meant it as a joke. And not saying ‘right’ either, because that wasn’t something he’s say out loud.

“It wasn’t something you did. I do not know why it happened for you and me, Dean. But,” Castiel stared at him keenly. Dean looked back at his eyes, and once again, he could feel them relapsing into their own bubble, where words didn’t need to be uttered to be understood. It was kind of fascinating.

Castiel paused, as if testing the string again, or maybe just wondering how to say it. When he finally does, his voice trembles a bit. And he’s searching in Dean’s eyes, some sort of reassurance; involuntarily.

I have heard it happens for those who are bonded.

Dean was suddenly grateful that Cas didn’t say that out loud, because Dean would have been absolutely incapable of responding with anything at all. But since this was just between them, there were only traces of a boundary, yet no intrusion- Dean felt the courage to think distinctly.

Then maybe you do know why it happened for us.

*

That's why, when Cas throws the 'profound bond' line at Sam, Dean instantly panicked. Castiel met his eyes, sending a, What's the matter?

Dean could only scoff his denial out loud, and glare a Not in front of my brother, jackass, into Castiel's irritatingly blue eyes.

*

In his defense, Dean doesn’t know how long Sam has been noticing it. But it’s got to be in the middle of a fight that he calls them out on it. It’s the middle of the goddamn showdown of the hunt. It’s the Winchesters and Castiel against dozens of demons; the angel whirred around, killing plenty, with expertise and his bright blade; Sam was exorcising loudly, from memory, as he fought off more demons using Ruby’s knife, and Dean shot at all the monsters in between.

When Dean gets a spare second - the Winchesters look like they’ve almost already won, and most demons are fighting to lose now - he whips his head in Cas’s direction. The latter is always majestic when he’s in his element, a glorious warrior.

Dean watches Cas flung a demon over, and pin him to the ground with a flourish, extracting a dying gasp as Castiel lands next to him with a palm on his sternum, displaying strength that should’ve been impossible; and Dean gapes. As if on cue, Castiel turns to face him, and there’s a triumphant spark in his eyes, and a smirk dangling tangent from the corner of his lips. It’s an absolute scene to die for, and he doesn’t look past Dean.

Dean. Castiel suddenly speaks, directly into Dean’s nerves.

That was so cool! You flipped him midair, it was something else, dude! Whoa! Dean lets out, in a hurry.

Castiel’s eyes don’t leave Dean’s, but they crinkle into a smile. You have blood in your hair.

I could do with a compliment too, but sure, worry more about my hair, why don’t you? Dean runs a hand violently through his hair, to get it off.

You’re an excellent fighter, and you know it. The fact that there was dry blood in your hair was something that you didn’t know, so I mentioned it. Castiel almost teased, and it stunned Dean how natural it felt suddenly. To have the voice of an angel echoing through his head, delivering lines in a deadpan. All while he got to stare into those fantastic baby blues, which starred in more dreams than Dean appreciated.

Come to think of it, Dean had no idea what he looked like, right now. Frozen in the middle of a fight scene, with eyes locked with Castiel’s, and no will to look away. His jaw basically hung, rapt in attention.

Don’t be that way. Dean sent back. Listen. Will you stay after the hunt tonight, Cas?

Do you need me to? Instantly resonated.

Once again, Dean surprised himself. But he was also beginning to realize that he could be both spontaneous and brave, when it came to saying the stuff he wanted to, when they communicated this way. Dean proposed, swiftly.

Nah, I was just thinking. If you were living with us tonight, we could make plans, you know - maybe a movie, some classic, of course; or maybe burgers and -

DEAN! Turn around, and SHOOT! HE’S BEHIND YOU!

Dean spun around as fast as he could, following thoughtlessly and firing away. His thoughts returned to him slower, still stuck on the way Cas’s eyes widened with sheer worry, when they saw Dean was in danger. Before he could think ahead, the body of an armed demon dropped at his feet, with a bullet in his head.

Castiel had sounded terrified for his sake, eyes suddenly wide and his booming baritone piercing through Dean’s bodily systems to make his muscles move just right. Never had Castiel’s voice overpowered all of his senses again - not once, after that one time in the abandoned shack, after the former raised him from hell.

”…Dean!“ Came Sam’s voice, trailing closer, and it was as if he’d been yelling for long - though Dean could only hear it now. "Are you okay!?”

“Yeah,” Dean touched the corpse with his boot. “Just peachy.” Their surroundings were silent, and all the demons had been killed. Sam ran towards him, frantic, and stopped as he began to yell, harshly clutching his brother’s shoulder, to get himself back together.

“You - you idiot! Both of you! Well, if you hadn’t been staring at each other’s mugs,” He declared, turning his head to include Castiel in his reprimand. “You’d have seen the demon coming sooner!”

Dean swallowed, suddenly overcome with the realization of what it looked like, each time they did it. Fuck. He hadn’t been thinking.

Sam wasn’t done yet. He’d been keeping it in for too long. “What is up with you, Dean!? I would think you got enough of looking at each other from what you keep doing, all frigging day!” It was as if Sam had taken the panic he felt at seeing his brother almost killed, and combined it with the frustration piling since almost a fortnight now into a mound of anger, that he shoved in their faces. “I mean - it doesn’t matter to me, you do you and be happy being yourself - but at least put the pining away when you’re in the middle of a fight!”

“It’s not pining, what the fuck do you mean?” Dean objected indignantly. “It is -” And he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He looked at Castiel, but the angel was looking at the ground, almost as if he believed he was responsible for Dean’s almost-murder - while clearly he was the reason Dean was still alive!

Dean commenced on a trail of thoughts himself.

Didn’t Sam know at all? Well, should he? Did he really need to?

Okay, if he thought about it, probably not.

It wasn’t about this being a Dean-and-Cas thing. No. It wasn’t about that at all, that’d be ridiculous. It was plain and simple about keeping Sam from being a smartass about it, for forever later.

So that settled it.

Sam didn't need to know.

Were you telling me something? Castiel suddenly popped up in his head, sounding grave.

I was trying to think something at you, but never mind, Dean got swept up in the feeling of replying to the angel through his thoughts, feeling himself put every emotion through a channel to get to him, to remember that Sam was still right there -

“Oh, there you go again!” Sam whined, before beginning to storm away. “Don’t try to stop me from driving away in your car, Dean! You can just keep staring,” He snarked. “And try to get it out of your system before you return to the motel!”

Castiel walked to Dean, slowly, once Sam had left, leaving his rant in the middle. “Your brother -” He began.

“Obviously you don’t do this with him, because he has no idea,” Dean remarked, if he didn’t already know.

“It isn’t intentional.” Castiel defended.

Dean nodded. He walked a few steps on the path where his brother had marched off, seconds before. He knew Sammy - and knew that that was just an outburst for no reason but venting the sudden adrenaline, and he was just being the regular prissy cares-for-Dean’s-life bitch, he’s always been trying to be. It didn’t bother him as much as it would’ve, if Sam knew about the ‘bond’; especially what Dean thought of it as, inwardly.

Castiel blinked, bringing him back to the present. “But, Dean? What does Sam think, then? What do we do, when we look at each other’s eyes?”

“…uh, just look, I- I guess.” Dean stammered, fidgety. “It’s not a big deal, c'mon, let’s get back to Baby before the kid actually leaves. And hey, uh, about the heads-up about the demon, back then? I didn’t get ganked totally because of you, so - thanks.” Castiel looked at him like he didn’t make sense, which was pretty unfair, because he totally did, right? He was being extremely clear about all of this. Was dealing with all his new feelings like a pro.

He’d obviously been giving off the vibe, that meant that Dean was completely over the freak out phase associated with the fact that what their telepathic crap meant was that they were ‘bonded’ - or whatever, who cares - and was only attached to what that meant for him ~ that Cas could hear Dean’s thoughts and he had a choice to not let him, but he did let him, so that was supposed to mean something - and he saved Dean’s life almost periodically at this point, so that was another perk of having him around, except for the fact that he got to look into his eyes - and Dean was going to keep this entire complicated thing from his brother, as if it were his overdue gay panic, to be later referred to as a mid-life (sexuality) crisis.

Okay. Maybe it was the opposite of out in the open.

But perhaps Dean could ask Cas to look into his eyes, and go over these (that were so hard to actually say out loud) again, because yeah, that was a thing that they did now.

Dean Winchester had a weird life, and he was extremely happy to be living it right now, as Cas blinked at him and said, “Of course, Dean, always,” in response to the thanking, and followed him out of the room where they’d just killed an entire troop of demons and saved the state of Kansas, and as Dean plotted to push Sam right of the driver’s seat, and mentally made a note to start paying more attention to the setting before he starts staring at Cas. Apparently.

~~~

And that’s it! I know it’s an abrupt-ish end. but will you be fine if I post editions of this, separately? There’s an angsty one, with mentions of Purgatory, Naomi and Steve - and there’s probably also a crack one, with shipper!Sam, shipper!Charlie and shipper!Kevin, and some breakfast Destiel. Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this fic, and am so glad you sent me that headcannon, Caitlin!

Here’s my taglist for Destiel, and though this is pretty general, I guess it counts: @all-or-nothing-baby @petrichoravellichor @adventurous-blob @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @legendary-destiel @ladywaywarddsc @styggtroll @moderatelypanickedbisexual @trenchcoatsandfreckles @noemithenephilim @naitia @ctrl-alt-destiel @a-mess-of-many-fandoms and @3dg310rdsupreme, uwu, Special Mention: @zoerayne2426

[cherry3point14]

Mine: Ch4 - ME

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Little fluff, little angst, smut adjacent, violence. Word Count: 5,839. Chapter Summary: Dean finally had everything he wants. A/N: Choo choo. The crazy train has finally left the station.

Ao3 if you prefer

In the morning you’re there. You, backlit by the warm glow of the lamp we left on, fill my vision. You’re more than I thought I would ever get, you’re more than I deserve, and yet here you are. In my bed, with me.

It’s been six weeks since our first date and you’ve been more or less living with me for five weeks now. I’d be shocked at how easy it was but there must have been an upside to the whole post-Carl mourning thing. When I brought you back here, again, you already knew Sam and you’d greeted him like an old friend. You hadn’t scoffed at the windowless rooms or wrinkled your nose at the underground home I live in. You’d smiled. Your shoulders melted at the sound of the bunker door closing. I’m not sure you were even aware of it but you feel safe here and you like feeling safe.

In the beginning, you’d at least pretend you didn’t live here. You’d go home for days at a time and when you did that place felt a little less like home. I saw it. The house was colder, emptier. You moved about it robotically. It’s almost laughable leaving a place as big as the bunker and finding a one-bed townhouse too empty. I know why. It’s not the size of the rooms, it’s the way your voice echoes off the walls. I get it. I’ve understood you since our first date.

That night you’d told me the answers to as many of my questions as you could. You left New York when your mom got sick. At first, you’d never made friends in town because you crammed every second you had with her. I get it. I understand the greedy need to hoard time with a parent. It’s another one of those things we both share. But then she died six months ago. And in those six months, you’ve only made casual friends, the kind you knew their names and said hi to at the grocery store. Sometimes you’d go to dinner or book club but it’s all exterior bullshit. The people who know you almost as well as I do, the ones who you call because you miss them? They’re still in New York.

I hate that whenever you talk about New York it’s like you left a piece of you there. Makes me wanna get in my car and bring it back.

At least now I know the reason behind your choices. Why you ended up with Carl, why you suffered that dick at work. Hell, why you brighten up every time you skip down those stairs even if it’s just me and Sam here. You’re not just lonely like a bored housewife. You’re lonely to your bones. And you’d rather get your heart broken a hundred times than be alone.

I’m the cure, where your suffering all ends. I won’t take advantage of you Y/N, I won’t break you. I want you so I can look after you. I see who you are.

Now we’re here though. Two weeks ago I convinced you to really move in, which is fast, I get it. Sam can’t believe it and most of your stuff is in storage still, but it feels right. We feel right. Being together and having you here? I’m not worried anymore. I trust you because I trust us.

You sleep curled into me. On your side, your right side, snuggled against my chest with your legs tangled between mine. By morning you’ve moved but not far. Enough that your face is on the pillow next to me. With you in your spot, I get to enjoy watching your lips part and the slow, deep breaths you take. You’re perfect awake but in sleep you’re different somehow and I can’t take my eyes off you. Everything slows down watching you sleep.

Then, you stir. Sometimes it’s when I tuck stray pieces of hair behind your ears or sometimes it’s with the weight of my hand on your cheek. I can’t help touching you and I’ll never be sorry when you open your eyes, see me and smile dreamily.

“Mornin’” I love being the first thing you hear when you open your eyes.

Your smile gets wider and you untangle yourself to stretch your arms above your head, “do we have to get up today?”

Not the first time you’ve asked me that. Every time you do it gets harder to break your heart. Even superficially.

“’ Afraid so sweetheart,” you whine and I bring you back to me with a quick kiss to your lips. “But you haven’t got work till three so we don't have to get up right now.”

You smile against my mouth and lean into my touch. Your shoulder then neck, my fingers follow a blissful trail of your impossibly soft skin. Fuck, you’re too good. I'm convinced these mornings of ours are as close as I’ll ever get to heaven again. Last time I went it hadn’t agreed with me and now if I end up there when I finally bite the big one? Well, it won’t compare to this. Lazy mornings mapping every part of you. Sometimes the sex is slow and lazy and sometimes I bury myself in you till you scream. It’s always ours. It’s a bubble that only pops when the door opens.

Today is a playful middle. No brutal rush or lazy rock of my hips. Today is teasing, holding out as long as we can until fun becomes frantically chasing release. Then you’re begging me and I won’t let you go over the edge until you say it. Not until you answer my question, always the same one.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” My forehead pressed against yours and I've all but stilled against you. I’ll hold it all back until you tell me what I want to hear. No, not want. What I need to hear.

“You. Dean, please. I’m all yours.”

You might think it’s just sex. You might think it’s a possessive kink thing. I’ll let you think whatever you want because deep down we both know the truth. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted with me, as long as you’re mine. We're not slipping back into sleep so it’s barely a minute before you slip away from me. Although you never leave without a kiss and a promise. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and then I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“You’re too good to me.”

You look at me like you're about to make the moment serious. As if you know all the things I’ve done for you and breakfast is just part of your debt.

But, you don’t know. And I’m not keeping track. I’d never keep score with you, there is no debt. I did what I had to but all that’s in the past. The present and the future is only you in my bed. Or you as you almost leave in nothing my shirt.

“I know I am. But you must have figured you signed up for this when you asked out a chef?”

I shrug against the pillows, I’d never really expected you to cook but you know know that.

“Nah, I figured there’d be more pie, to be honest.”

Your eyes flash and you pout playfully, “oh you asked for it, Winchester.”

“Hey dude,” Sam starts. There are only two ways this sentence is going to finish. Since it’s not my birthday I’m pretty sure we're not going to a strip club.

“I found us a case.” He finishes with that telltale smile. He needs a hobby. Or someone of his own. He gets bored too easily and he forgets that I have you. I get it but unfortunately, my face is already grimacing. “Come on dude. Two people dead in three days. Both of them with strange animal bites on their necks.” He even bends his fingers to air quote the word 'strange'. Loser.

“Vamps?” I don’t mean to sound so hopeful but bloodsuckers mean I won’t even be gone that long.

Sam looks back to his laptop as if the article he’s reading will actually say, vampires. “Looks like it.”

He sounds excited and hell, I wouldn’t mind a little mano e mano to blow off some steam. And a few days with Sam will do me some good. You’re the problem. As much as this is my life you are a new complication and it’s been the same story for the last six weeks. I can travel as far as I can but you’re still here. Pulling me back to you like a stretched out rubber band is connecting us. The drive back always feels like letting go, letting myself ping back to where you are. It’s dangerous to think about you while burning bones and gutting monsters. One day it'll get me in trouble.

Of course, it is easier now. Now I can call you, text you, and let myself grin at my phone when you reply. But still, leaving is the fucking worst.

“Pie number three is in the oven. I swear I’ll make you rue the day you accused me of not making enough pie… oh hey, Sam. You don’t mind if I kill him with pie, right?”

You bounce in with a plate in your hands which means number two finally cooled down enough that you’ll let me eat some. Sam looks up at you with a fond smile, “don’t you think he’s tried that himself over the years?”

“I don’t doubt he’s tried but I’ve got the moxie to really pull it off.”

I love that you and Sam are friendly like this. Maybe even on the way to being actual friends. You both accepted each other without argument. But I should put a stop to this particular conversation before you conspire long enough to put me on a diet.

“Ok, ok that’s enough. I don’t joke about your hopes and dreams.” The slice I take from your hands is cherry and you rock onto your toes while I take a bite. Only when the first mouthful makes me moan are you satisfied enough to relax.

“I hate to slow you down when you’re on a mission but we’re heading out on a case.” I deliver the bad news myself since I need you to like Sam.

You frown quickly. You try to catch yourself but it stills lingers on your face, “really?”

“’ Afraid so, sweetheart.”

“Well, since the next one is pecan will you at least take some for the road? If you don’t I’ll eat the whole thing and we don't all have your insatiable metabolism.” You whine a little from the chair next to me that you’ve slipped into. All the better to be closer before I leave.

“Pecan? I’ll take the whole thing.” You laugh into me so the sound vibrates my chest. Your hair is soft under my hand as I stroke it, still taking mouthfuls of pie with the other. “You sure you’ll be ok for a few days?”

“I’ll be fine. Go, save some people. I’ll still love you when you get back.”

You don’t seem to realize what you’ve said, or you don’t find it out of place. Maybe you’re not keeping track. But it’s the first time you’ve said that. So, naturally, I'm grinning like an idiot.

Sam waits the appropriate amount of time before he clears his throat, “I’m still right here guys.”

“And if you're lonely I know some nice girls I can set you up with.” You mumble without looking at him.

“I appreciate the offer.” He sasses back to you before fixing his eyes on me, “wheels up in thirty?”

“Make in an hour.” My girl just told me she loved me after all.

There’s a lot of clues I should have picked up on that something’s wrong when we get back. A half-eaten plate of food sitting on the table in the library, next to one of your books, is the biggest. It suggests you were mid-meal when you’d been distracted by something. This particular meal, still waiting for you with a fork left resting in it, is stone cold now. So, you’re not heading back from something at all. Wherever you are, you didn’t intend to be gone long.

I can’t help that I’m excited to see you after a two-day hunt that turned into three. Excited to see the recognition on your face when you see me, to know that you light up like that for me. I’m excited to see the girl who loves me. Excuse me for missing the goddamn clue.

Sam doesn’t question my long strides or fast pace. He knows I’m itching to see you. Especially since he’s sat in a car with me for the last six hours. He’d told me you were fine, safe in the bunker waiting for me but that hasn't stopped the nerves making me antsy.

So, each step is a little looser, calmer. My shoulders sink back into my body and I can feel the tightness of my face relax.

Because you’re behind that door Y/N. You’re waiting for me like you have done for six weeks. You’re waiting for me like I waited for you since day one.

Except I missed the clues so I’m not prepared for what’s actually behind the door.

You’re sitting in the bed and hunched over. Your legs are swung over the edge of the bed as if you fell in place from standing. Never realizing you’re uncomfortable twisted at the waist. I’m so blinded by the relief at seeing you again that I don’t notice what’s in your hands. Not at first.

I do see the tears. Red, puffy eyes and wet streaks on your cheeks. You lift your head to look at me with none of the bright light I've waited to be blinded by. It’s this confused mix of anger and sadness instead. That’s not how you’re supposed to look at me. Suddenly I want nothing more than to beat the crap out of whoever put that on your face.

“What happened?” I’m trying, fuck am I trying not to scare you. Although I can hear the growl in my voice and feel every muscle I have tighten in anticipation. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone in the bunker. Even here isn’t safe enough for you.

You flinch away from my hand as I reach out for your shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”

And I don’t. I’ve never touched you without your permission. Yet without the distraction of you under my fingers I finally start to notice things. Like, say, the assortment of items strewn on the bed in front of you.

A hex bag. A wallet. A set of keys.

Or more precisely. The hex bag that could have saved your no good ex, the wallet of your sleazy boss and the house keys you lost five weeks ago.

I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here. It could have been five minutes or five hours. At the very least it’s enough time for you have made some assumptions. They spill out of you without me saying another word.

“You looked after me when Carl… I know what he did but he didn’t deserve to that. But you-you looked after me. And when I came home and told you Steve was missing, that we’d all been interviewed by the police, you told me it was nothing. You said he’d probably skipped town. With-without his wallet? That you have?!”

“You don’t understand sweetheart, I…”

“I think for once I do understand. You’re a… god, you actually… you killed them and then lied to me about it.”

Angry I can fight with. Sad I can fix. But the betrayal in your voice? Damned if I know how to make that better.

You sway on your feet as you swing your body upwards in one swift, unstable action.

“Swee-” My hands are defensive and trying to stop your panic.

“Don’t you dare. I’m not your sweetheart. Never again. How can you think this will ever be ok?”

The click of the door as you open it stirs me out of my stupor. The dumb blindness that has me stuck standing and letting this play out clears. I don’t watch these things go by. And I won’t watch you leave.

You’ve left the door hanging open because you think walking out like this is an option. You think I love you enough that I’ll let you go.

It’s the exact opposite. I love you too much to ever let you go.

I catch up to you in a second and my hands have you in half of that. One hand over your mouth, because I know you’re a screamer, and a hand wrapped around your neck. I’d never squeeze enough to kill you Y/N I only need you to think I will. I need you to stop and realize that I’m doing this so we can work on this instead of giving up. We can’t give up.

“Honey, you’re gonna come with me and we’re gonna talk.”

I’m only trying to clasp my fingers tight enough to get you to cooperate and stop struggling against me. The fact that you collapse, unconscious in my arms, makes the whole thing easier.

Okay, maybe I hadn’t had your permission to do that.

There’s a room at the end of a random corridor. One of those places no one visits often, if ever, in the depths of the bunker. It’s a corridor littered with empty spaces, half-finished rooms, and useless closets. There’s a door that maybe was going to be a panic room or something. There are random pieces of comms equipment, an old leather sofa and walls thick enough to keep anything out. Or, keep anything in. It’s not soundproof but Sam won’t hear you from his room. I can barely hear you sitting outside the room. I’m waiting till you’ve stopped screaming for help before I go in and talk to you. I guess I didn’t figure it would take this long. The bottle of whiskey in my hands is getting emptier than I care to admit while I stare at the spot you’re standing in. Where you’re banging on the reinforced metal door and screaming. Out here it boils down to a soft thump and a quiet “help.” In there it’s furious, barely contained thunder. I get it. You’re mad. You don’t understand yet. But I’ve waited longer for less before. You’re still everything to me and I’ll wait till the end of time if I have to. I have all the time in the world. You’d passed out. It made me sick to my stomach to see you like that but it made it easier to get you here. To this room, this place, that not even my brother knows about. You gave me time. More than enough time to lock the door, go back to the library and clear up your plate. I dogeared the page in your book too because you hate losing your place, and tucked the thing in my back pocket. I hate it. Removing the trace of you like you don’t live here. Pretending you weren’t here to begin with. But I missed the clues before, that doesn’t mean Sam will miss them for a second time. At the very least it needs to look like you haven’t been here in a while. We need our time alone. Finally, it happens. Maybe I closed my eyes for a minute or maybe you gave up before I finished drinking. The ‘help’ that you’d screamed becomes something else. A pleading shout in there and whisper from out here, “Dean!?” I give it another minute. You should take a few more breaths now that you’re calm. You say it again, resigned, “Dean?!” Fuck, I still love it when you say that. I’m not, say, an idiot. I know that putting you in here, like this, is like trying to trap a storm in a box. A damn stupid idea. I took precautions, obviously. There’s a set of cuffs around your wrists. Not tight enough to pinch, never. But tight enough to keep your hands in front of you, for now, and make sure you’re not going to lash out when I open that door. Actually looking at you when I slip inside is worse than listening to you out there. I stand against the door so the illusion of escape isn’t tempting you to try anything. What I never expected was the way you slink away from me. Even if I'm across the room. Your eyes widen and you cower into the corner of the couch. Never taking your eyes off me, which means I don’t miss the way they swim with fear. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N, I would never. Not really.” “How long Dean?” Your body, face, features might be scared of me but your voice is as hard as the metal at my back. “What?” “How long are you going to keep me locked up in here like a criminal? When you’re the one who.. how long?” I need to separate this version of you from the one who told me she loved me days ago. The only way I can manage that is by dragging my hand down my face, taking you out of my sight for a second. “This is temporary, we need time to talk. I had to stop you leaving.” Not letting an easy nickname slip from my mouth is a very conscious effort. I’ve already seen you flinch from me once today, I don’t need to see that shit again. “Temporary? We need to talk?” Each repetition sounds less like a question and more like bad news. You’re distracted enough by anger that you forget to be scared of me. You pick yourself up from the seat you’re in, shaking your wrists in midair. “I’m handcuffed. You put me in a choke hold Dean. You… you…” “I’m sorry. Please try to understand.” “Tell me you didn’t do it. Just tell me this is all some drunk nightmare and put me back in bed. Say the words.” You take another step, pleading through the metal on your wrists, “tell me you didn’t kill Carl. That you didn’t kill Steve.” The pause is long enough for you to figure out my answer. You know the answer already. “Technically the witch killed Carl.” A scream comes out of you, born in the depths of your soul, primal and painful. “Baby please, you gotta understand. I did it all for you. To protect you. Carl and Steve were bad news. You needed me to save you.” “SAVE ME? DOES THIS LOOK SAVED TO YOU, DEAN?” Your connected arms motion wildly to the red around your throat and shake the cuffs for extra effect. “Carl was a cheating assface but you know what most people do? They break up with the cheating assface not have them killed by fucking magic!” This is fine, it’ll be fine. You’re not calm yet. I tried to pull the band aid off too quickly. “You need some time. ’S fine. You’ll understand soon.” As my hand goes for the door your anger becomes fear. “No! Dean! Don’t leave me in here again. Please don’t leave me in here!” Closing that door on you, hearing the heavy lock followed by your dulled sobs, breaks my fucking heart.

The next few days are harsher than I could have imagined. You refuse to look at me, talk to me, or otherwise acknowledge my existence. The blanket I bring you to sleep with gets thrown off your shoulders whenever I come in. You know, in case I find out you’ve actually been using it to keep warm. You never rush for the food or drink I bring you, electing to wait till I’m good and gone before you admit defeat and eat.

You don’t get it Y/N, I'm trying to take care of you. I’m only trying to give you the time to get your head around this. God, I wanted to give you all the time you need but now my patience is starting to wear thin.

I’ve been sitting in the room on a wooden chair, leaning against the door for an hour now. The trick is to have a book to read but yours is in my back pocket again, all I need to do is wait out your boredom.

There’s this big exasperated sigh from your direction before you say anything. “Have I behaved enough to get these off yet?”

You’re holding up your wrists, which I can see are red and angry underneath the cold metal still tugging at them. “Shit, yeah.” I prepare myself for the flinch again. It’s a pleasant surprise when I make contact with your skin and you don’t move an inch. It’s not the same as when you’d lean into my touch, not yet anyway, but this is still good. We really can get there again, together.

“Thanks.” You’re tight-lipped and the word is clipped. It’s still progress. It’s still you talking to me more than you had.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I try my luck, your icy reception to the nickname is better than it had been. “I didn’t mean to leave you in them so long, was waiting till you calmed down.” The cuffs get thrown on the desk across the room hoping that I can finally start showing you the way back to me.

You choke out a harsh laugh, “yeah, I’m the one with the problem. My boyfriend murdered two people and almost choked me to death. Sure, I overreacted.”

“But see you still called me your boyfriend.” I try my hand at being playful and I swear the corner of your mouth twitches.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m going crazy in here?” I know you inside and out so I know that you’re joking. Not only are you made of stronger stuff than that but the raised eyebrow says it too.

“Maybe I’ll bring you something to-” the end of my sentence gets lost in the blur that moves in front of me. You’re up, across the room fumbling with the handle of the door and pulling it open. My hand pushes the door closed again before you can get out into the corridor, “why’d you have to go and do that?”

You lean forward, defeated again. Your forehead rests against the cold metal that’s still held closed by my weight. “Because I don’t think you plan on letting me out of here Dean.”

“Of course I am. I still want a life together. I love you. That’s why I won’t put the cuffs back on.”

“You’re cooking? What did Y/N fall and hit her head?” I know Sam means it as a joke but he’s doesn’t understand that it’s too soon for jokes. I can’t laugh this off while you’re still locked in the depths of the bunker and we haven’t laughed together again yet. I’d love nothing more than for you to be here cooking with a smile on your face but you’re not ready to come out yet.

“Y/N’s not here.” I'm sick to my stomach lying about you. I wish I didn’t have to. Wishing is for suckers though.

Sam has one of his goddamn green smoothies in his hands, cold from the fridge, the sight of it makes me frown. It mirrors the frown on his face at you being gone. “Oh is she at work? She didn’t say she was working today.”

Days ago I’d have been feeling warm fuzzies that he cares this much about you, that he knows your schedule. I’d have been happy that the two most important people in my life are becoming important to each other. Now his questions are roadblocks. My throat itches with the lies I’m about to tell. “Actually, she went home for a while.”

“I thought she was moving in?”

“Yeah, well, she still had a few more weeks on her lease and we had a fight about some dumb shit. She’s cooling off.” Not a whole lie. In fact, none of it is really a lie. You do have a few weeks left on the house but I never said that’s where you are. We did have a fight, you are cooling off. Sam is going to piece the rest together from the way I’m staring into this pan of bacon like a sad sack of shit.

He wants to say he told me so, probably. He’s the one who asked us if we were moving too fast.

That’s not what comes out of his mouth. He lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes to let me know he’s there, “I’m sorry. I know you and Y/N were happy but I’m sure she’ll come back. She really seems like she loves you.”

I must look pathetic if Sam has gone straight to talking me down from the ledge. Despite myself, despite trying to contain myself, I can’t help the way I turn my head to him, “really? You think she loves me?”

Oh god, I am pathetic. Only for you Y/N.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you had a crush and then I saw the way she looks at you.” It’s innocuous in how casual he is. Sam sees it that easily. Black and white. While I’m standing here with a slither of a doubt, that maybe you’re not the one, he reminds me that you’re the only one. He reminds me of something I’ve forgotten after days of keeping you locked up. We're meant to be.

You love me Y/N. Not because your life has got so much better since I was in it. Not because I treat you like you always hoped you’d be treated. You love me because you see me. And you’ve seen me at my worst now, that version of myself I justified being to protect you. The guy who put hands on you, albeit temporarily, to stop you from hurting yourself.

Running would have hurt you. And by keeping you here instead you’ve seen all of me. Your hero, your boyfriend and now, your protector. You loved me before and if you still love me it’s only a matter of time till we’re fixed.

Sam smiles encouragingly. The one he saves for people who are freaking out while they explain the impossible thing they saw. He even looks down at the bacon in the pan like he’s happy that I’m happy, which is never how Sam looks at bacon. The food is for you but he can’t know that.

He stops as he’s halfway out the room. “Hey, I was going to head out for a few hours this afternoon, catch a movie, you wanna come?”

“Nah, Sammy. I’m good.” An afternoon where I won’t have to explain my disappearing act to Sam.

Sam’s been gone a few hours already and other than some time when I brought you lunch I’ve left you alone so far. I gave you your book and watched your face light up like it used to when you saw me. It’s a start so I didn't push anything. Left you alone to read. Slow and steady wins the race.

Now my brother will be home soon. I want to see you again before I have to eat dinner with him and pretend everything is above board. I need my fix.

Here’s the thing that I’m not expecting. The smile on your face when I walk in. It's half convincing me that I hit my head on the hunt and everything since has been a nightmare.

“Dean! Finally, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your reception is everything I've been waiting for too. You’ve been in here almost five days now and the progress has been too slow. I was starting to worry that no matter how much I loved you maybe too much of you had been chipped away and yet, here you are. Dog-earing the page of your book and standing up to meet me. You’re shaking a little, rattled with nerves but there’s a smile on your face that tells me not to worry.

“I've been thinking and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” I’m still being careful about touching you. Your hands are trembling by your sides like you’re worried about the same thing.

You take in this big breath, “I- I think I get it now. I was hurt before, about you lying to me, and I was shocked. But then I'm sitting here eating the food you brought me and reading my book that you’d saved my place in, and something clicked. I was scared you know? Not because of what you did but scared because honestly, you’re the first person who has ever loved me this much. You take care of me, you’ve always taken care of me. And I was afraid to let you do that because maybe I didn't believe I deserved you. It's weird to say considering everything but you're actually good for me."

I close the gap between us with a step and raise my hand to cup your cheek. You lean into my touch like it’s home. “But I pulled some shit. I killed people in your name. You’ve gotta hate me?”

I’m giving you an out Y/N. This one out.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to hate you. How could I hate someone who wants to look after me like you do? Dean, I love you.” You say it softly, a whisper, a secret. Through lips that are parting for me.

Leaning down to kiss you is everything I’ve wanted to do since I got back from that hunt. This once, I let myself have what I want. My other hand comes up to hold you so I've got your whole face in my hands while I taste you again. Your lips are as soft and inviting as I remember. Your tongue is eager and this kiss? This kiss couldn’t lie. This is how I know you’re still mine. You're my perfect fit.

And then metal closes around my wrists. You’re quick and you snap the cuffs until they hurt. I didn't know you were this good a fucking actress Y/N with your mouth still pressed against mine as you trap me in.

“What the fuck? Baby?” I splutter as I stumble a little, not far back enough. In the next moment, you raise a knee to my balls and holy fuck, there's so much anger behind it. You want to cause me pain. I can suffer it from evil sons of bitches trying to kill me but you?

“You’re a monster, Dean.” You bitterly spit in my direction as I sink to my knees. “Jesus, how I could I ever love you?”

That’s the last thing I hear before a wooden drawer is smashed over my head.

Continue to Epilogue

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer​

[waywardrose13]

The Hunter Diaries- Chapter Six

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Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester had been your best friends for as long as you could remember. Being Bobby Singer’s adoptive daughter, it was sort of inevitable to know the brothers. You knew you’ve had a crush on the elder brother for a long time, but you always thought nothing would happen between the two of you. You’re not the picture perfect model and you aren’t the image every girl strives to be. But maybe, just maybe, you were wrong, and he would like you too. Words Count: 1841 Warnings: Language, rude comments made about reader’s appearance

A/N- End is important, shit is about to get CRAZY y’all. Thanks for being patient, I had serious writer’s block for awhile. Hope y’all enjoy!

“You okay?” Sam asked. You scratched your head and furrowed your brows.

“Yep,” You answered. “Just… Trying to wrap my head around it.” Dean chuckled and patted your knee.

“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in.”

“He wears a trenchcoat?” You asked. Dean laughed loudly beside you.

“A trenchcoat,” Bobby confirmed.

“An angel?”

“An angel.”

“This is insane! But… also kinda cool. I mean, angels,” You gushed. “You’ve got to admit, it’s awesome.”

“That’s what I said,” Sam muttered. Dean made a noise deep in his chest.

“They’re kinda dicks,” He said. You slumped your shoulders.

“Oh.” You thought for a moment before adding, “Can you see their wings?”

Bobby chuckled. “No,” He replied. “You could see the shadow of them though, for a brief moment.”

“Awesome,” You said.

Dean clapped his hands together and stood up. He held his hand out to you, which you took and he brought you to your feet. “Now that you’re caught up, I say we get a drink.”

“That’s an excellent plan.”

When you and Dean had returned to the room, they had hounded you with questions; what had you been doing these past four months, why haven’t you returned Bobby’s calls, what were you thinking taking on a vamp nest solo. The answers were fairly simple; hunting, avoidance and “Why not?”

Then they moved onto the subject of how Dean was brought back and who brought him back. It took them almost a good ninety minutes to thoroughly explain everything that happened after he was resurrected.

Your mind was still trying to process everything. What they had told you was absolutely insane. Angels were real.

“What’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” Dean asked. You smiled up at him and squeezed his hand.

“Everything,” You said. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

“Me either, sweetheart,” Dean sighed. He kissed your temple before moving to the driver’s side of the Impala. You slipped into the passenger seat and buckled your seat belt. As soon as the engine was up and running, Dean intertwined your fingers with his, giving your hand a loving squeeze.

Throughout the night, Dean would always be touching you. Whether it was interlocking your fingers together or tracing circles on the back of your hand. His eyes never seemed to leave your face. He never thought he’d ever be here, with you. He never thought he’d ever be able to talk to you or even be in the same room with you ever again after saying goodbye and going to hell.

Your smile made his heart flutter in his chest. He never had felt this way about anyone before. It killed him when he saw the state you were in when he showed up; half dead and bottles of alcohol surrounding you. He knew it must have been tough, with his death following so close behind Carter’s. You never had an easy life and every bad thing that could have happen began to pile up on your shoulders. He understood, better than anyone, what it was like to feel as though the only way to cope was at the bottom at a bottle and killing the things in the dark. When he saw you, you looked so broken. But you seemed to lighten in the span of five hours, your smile and eyes lighting up the room.

He couldn’t have been happier at that moment. Gazing at and laughing with the woman he loved.

The woman he loved. It was strange to Dean, to truly be in love with someone. He had realized it before he went to hell, when he saw you that day on the street. And when you told him you loved him, he couldn’t have felt more ecstatic.

It wasn’t exactly the reunion he wanted, but now, sitting in a little dump bar, having a beer and just talking with you, his heart couldn’t have been fuller. It felt as though a hole that had always been in his heart filled, and he had you to thank for that.

“Well,” You began. You looked down at your fingers that were fiddling with the paper on your beer bottle. Dean’s eyes were fixated on you, desperately trying to read your expression. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“How is it embarrassing?” He chuckled. You gave him a slight smile and shrugged.

“I guess I’ve always had a crush on you but I realized I was in love with you about two years ago.” You murmured.

“You never acted on it?” He asked tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Instead of pulling his hand away, he rested it against your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way,” You said. He leaned forward and gave you a peck on the lips.

“I did feel the same way,” He whispered against your lips. You smiled and pressed your lips against his once more. A throat cleared behind you, causing the two of you to pull away.

“Um… Excuse me,” A pretty blond said. You raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. “Can you not make out at a public bar. Not everyone wants to see… That.” She gestured her hand towards you two and you scoffed.

“Then don’t look,” Dean bit back, kissing your temple. The blond rolled her eyes and sauntered over to her friends at the other side of the bar.

“I’m gonna hit the ladies’ room and then do you wanna get out of here?” You asked. Dean grinned.

“Sure,” He answered. You kissed his cheek and slid off the stool. You made your way through the bar and to the restroom.

When you finished your business, you were about to leave the stall when the door opened and heels clacked against the tiles.

“I mean, did you see that guy?” One of the girls asked. The sounds of purses being set on the sink sounded through the small restroom and you could hear the women rummaging through them.

“Yeah, he’s totally hot,” Another answered. “You think I have a chance?”

“No.” You recognized that voice as the blonde bitch from earlier. “He was with some chick.”

“Oh yeah, I saw her,” Girl number one said. “But I mean, flash him a little boob and flirt your ass off, he’ll totally go home with you.”

“How do you know? He seemed pretty close to her. And she’s pretty,” Girl number two said.

“Did you even see her? He’d totally rather have you. I mean, you’re skinny and blonde. You’re a fucking model, how can she compete with you?” Girl number one giggled.

“What does he even see in her? He can do so much better than Ms. Piggy,” Blonde bitch said.

Tears began to well up in your eyes. Their words stung, echoing in your head over and over. You no longer believed Dean was toying with you, that feeling left a long time ago. He had confessed his feelings to you and you knew he wouldn’t give those bitches a second glance. But their words still hurt, knowing people thought you weren’t the kind of person who “should” be with him.

The girls left, laughter bouncing off the restroom walls. You wiped your eyes and unlocked the stall door, stepping into the room and looking up at the mirror as you washed your hands. You splashed water on your face to try and hide the fact you were crying. You then patted your face dry and left the bathroom, putting on a happy face.

“You ready to go?” You asked as you came up to the bar. You glanced over at the girls and they were staring at you, their faces horror stricken when they realized where you came from.

“Sure.” Dean smiled. He grasped your hand and slid off the stool. You looked away from the girls and Dean wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you out of the bar.

As you walked out into the night, the door opened again behind you and one of the girls came out.

“Hey,” She said. You recognized her voice as girl number two. She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear awkwardly and gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, about what we said in the restroom.”

Dean gave you a questioning look but you ignored it, giving the girl a soft smile. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” She said shaking her head. “We shouldn’t have said those things.”

“It wasn’t really you,” You said.

“But I didn’t stand up for you. I’m really sorry,” She admitted.

“Thank you,” You murmured. She gave you a nod and then looked at Dean before scurrying back inside. When she was gone, Dean turned to you and raised a brow.

“What did they say to you?” He demanded. You looked up at him.

“They didn’t say anything to me, I overheard them,” You said.

“Okay, what did you hear?”

“They were just saying that you’d rather be with someone like them,” You said.

“Like what? Complete bitches?” He snarled.

“No, like, skinny, blonde and gorgeous,” You mumbled. Dean made a noise deep in his chest, a deep rumbling, almost like a growl.

“Those bitches!” He fumed. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“Dean-” You began but he cut you off.

“No, listen to me when I say this. You are gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, good, kind, funny and incredibly smart. I don’t want anyone but you. I love you so fucking much that it scares me. Please, don’t ever doubt that,” He proclaimed. You grinned and grabbed his hand.

“You love me?” You whispered.

“I thought you would’ve figured that out by now,” He breathed. You stood on your tip toes and pressed your lips softly to his.

“I love you too, Dean Winchester,” You said. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

He opened your car door and let you slip in, closing it softly behind you. The smile refused to leave your face. You buckled your seat belt and sighed in content. You were so incredibly happy.

You felt good for the first time in months. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to feel this elated again. Your heart was fluttering and you were almost jittery. You had the man you loved by your side and you were back in relations with your best friend and your father. Your life was finally looking up.

Until you noticed the slip of light yellow paper on the dashboard. You reached forward and grabbed it just as Dean got behind the steering wheel. You looked down at the words scribbled across it and felt your stomach drop.

“What is it?” Dean asked, noticing your paling face. You held up the paper with fearful eyes, allowing Dean to read the words that were currently running through your mind on a loop. Four words that had your heart racing and fear coursing through your veins.

I’ve found you, Y/N/N.

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[shirtlesssammy]

9x19: Alex Annie Alexis Ann

Hey All! Welcome to winter hellatus! We’re pretty excited for Wayward Sisters so we thought we’d recap a selection of Wayward episodes over the next 5 weeks. Enjoy!

Then:

Sody! Er, Jody’s a badass hunter, who’s been through a lot of shit.

Now:

We open with a big, burly, gun-toting police officer manhandling a young woman down the halls of a police station. Yikes. He locks her up and answers a call about a possible B&E. Leaving the offender alone, the officer goes to check it out.

Later that night, the inmate gets a visit from, uh, a dude she knows but seems scared to be near. He unlocks her cell and tells her, “You can run and you can hide, but we will always find you.” Fangs out...And head off. JODY comes in for the head chopping save!

The next morning, the boys meet up with Jody who fills them in on her latest case. 

They’re dealing with a nest of vampires, and a runaway who won’t talk or even give up her name. She IDs Sam and Dean as hunters after Sam checks for fangs (she doesn’t have them). Jody interrupts their less than enlightening interrogation with news of who their mystery prisoner is: Annie Jones, kidnapped 8 years prior. Jody wonders if she was kidnapped by the vampires. Sam and Dean surmise that she’s a blood slave, a human kept by vamps to feed on. 

Back in the interrogation room, the brothers try breaking through Annie’s Stockholm Syndrome, but she insists that her name is really Alex, and it was her choice to feed the vamps. She left the nest because it was time for her to strike out on her own (she says not so convincingly). The brothers lay out her options: She can help the Winchesters+Jody find the nest or the vamps will find her. Alex admits that if “Mama” finds her, she’s dead.

Sam and Dean scout some possible locations of the nest and head out to investigate, leaving Jody on babysitting duty. (Man, that sounds awful, but leave it to Bobo to make this the most badass babysitting job outside of Adventures in Babysitting.) Jody tells the brothers she has a cabin in the country. She’ll take Alex there -no back up. (She’s got this. It’s all good!)

The rest of Alex’s “family” find, confront, and kill the nice bus ticket sales lady who helped Alex escape.

Jody and Alex arrive at Jody’s cabin in the woods later that night. Jody briefly reminisces on fond childhood memories, and more recent, more painful and bittersweet memories. Once inside, Jody sets up the home while Alex wanders. She sees a picture of Jody, and her husband and son. She asks where they are. Jody’s blank look says it all. “Hmm, dead.” Oh, how far these two have come.

The boys wait all day, and then head out at night to check out the vamp location.

They find a vamp woodchipping a victim and interrogate him. He whines about his “sister”, but knows that she’ll always chose them over humans.

(Shallow end of the pool break: Dean, why do you look so good and broody this episode? Oh yeah, you’re working that Mark of Cain by now.)

At the sheriff’s, (during a power outage?) the Family Vampire make an appearance.

Sam and Dean’s vamp gives them a detailed flashback to how Alex helped the family all these years --by picking up gross older men and luring them to their death. The boys are instantly worried about Jody.

At the cabin, Jody finds Alex asleep in her son’s old room. She goes to throw a blanket over her, when Alex wakes with a start. Hesitantly, Jody tells Alex she made her a sandwich when she’s hungry. Alex asks about her grandmother --but Jody just shakes her head no. It seems that Alex is truly alone in the world.

Sam finds out that both of the victims worked at the bus station where Alex was and realizes that the vampires are hot on Alex’s trail. He calls Jody and fills her in but before Jody can get all the facts, a car pulls up outside. The vampires quickly break through the window and take Alex. Jody races outside to try to rescue her but she gets knocked out. Dawn breaks when the Winchesters finally get there and Jody wakes up and gets to her feet. They figure that the vampires are on their way back to their nest. Jody tells the boys in no uncertain terms that they can stow the kid gloves. She may be injured but Alex was under her protection and she’s going to fight for her. JODY I love you so much. Dean tries to argue that Alex isn’t worth saving, given her history as a vampire lure. Jody is like, fuck you very much. “I’m coming. And if either of you lays so much as a hand on Alex, you’ll have to go through me.” She gets into the Impala and slams the door.

Alex wakes up to mama vamp telling her that she’s made a right mess of their life. Mama vamp tells Alex that she’ll always take her back, though. Alex is her baby girl. “I love you mama,” Alex tells her. “I couldn’t take it anymore. The blood and the death. The sounds of their screams. I can’t do it anymore.” Mama vamp tells Alex that she should have turned her years ago. Then Alex would never suffer guilt.

Outside, Dean tells Jody that their priority is clearing the nest and saving Alex is secondary. Fuck you, Jody says with her eyes.

Back with mama vamp, she tells Alex that she was selfish. She wanted to watch Alex grow up. But if Alex turns vamp she can stay with her vampire family. Alex looks at her and considers…

The Winchesters and Jody sneak into the house, machetes bared. Jody hears a moan from the basement and heads down to investigate. Meanwhile, upstairs Sam gets captured and Dean gets knocked out.

Jody follows the moans to a bed in the basement where Alex is lying in pain. Alex looks up and her mouth is covered in blood. “I made my choice,” she tells Jody. She drank mama vamp’s blood. Mama vamp creeps up and knocks Jody out.

The vamp brothers interrogate Sam, trying to decide who to kill first. One of the vamps grabs a bucket and a knife. They’ve got to find a new place to live and nothing says road trip like road snacks, amirite?

Downstairs Jody’s awake but trussed up to the ceiling. She tries to talk some sense into Alex.

Mama vamp hauls Alex over to Jody so that Alex can feed off of her and become a vampire. Alex refuses. “Clearly, Sheriff, you got issues. Some hole in your life you’re using Alex to fill,” Mama vamp tells Jody, continuing her emotional assault on Alex. “You think motherhood’s just about blood?” Jody doesn’t disagree with that statement, but she also tells mama vamp that motherhood isn’t about forcing children to be like them the moment they’re inconvenient. Preach, Jody! Mama vamp tells Alex that Jody “Hunter Cop Bitch” Mills is just trying to play Alex.

Upstairs, Sam’s starting to get woozy as the bucket begins to fill with blood. Bro vamp licks some up. Gross. The other vamp heads to Dean, ready to slit his throat and pour him into a bucket. Dean’s awake though. Yay, Dean! He fights the other vamp.

“Alex!” Jody says. “Was that her name?” Jody realizes that the reason mama vamp changed Alex’s name is because she lost a child and stole Alex as a replacement. Alex listens to Jody talk, realizing that she’d been stolen as a child to replace another child. This puts things in perspective for Alex. Sure, Jody is projecting things from her own loss. But mama vamp did it too. Mama vamp starts to beat up Jody.

Meanwhile, Dean continues to fight with the vamps upstairs. Just before he kills the vampire he tells him to look into his eyes which… YIKES, Dean. (It’s here that I first go WTF Dean and then remember that we’re deep in the Mark of Cain storyline.) Dean kills the vampire and slowly comes down off of his murder rage. Then he starts to untie Sam, and tells him, “Yeah I know. You wouldn’t have done the same for me.” (Me: bundles Dean into a blanket and hands him a stuffed bunny.) Anyway, Sam reminds Murder Dean about Jody and Dean runs off.

Downstairs, Jody is way worse for wear. She’s had her knee kicked out and been beaten up badly. Mama vamp cuts her down so she can eat Jody herself. She stops though. Alex has stabbed her in the back with dead man’s blood. “How could you?” mama vamp says.

“I’m sorry, mama,” Alex whispers.

Jody tells Alex not to watch and Alex looks away as Jody cuts off mama vamp’s head.

Afterward, Sam tells Dean that he was enjoying the kill too much. “Sorry for not putting on a hairshirt,” Dean says. Taking pleasure in killing bad things is fine, he assures Sam. Yeeeeah…

Jody strolls up and wraps up loose ends with the Winchesters. They apologize for being dicks and for not fighting to save Alex. Jody admits that her judgment was clouded, though.

“You know, working this case, it brought...feelings back. Feelings I've been trying to bury for years, you know, buried it under work, religion. Even dating. We know how that worked out. But, you know, it was still there, you know, underneath. The grief. Don't know what that means for me, just that I've been... I've been fooling myself to think that I could ignore it.”

Jody heads back in as the Winchesters leave. Alex is suffering through the conversion back to full human. “I want you to know that when mama offered I couldn’t disappoint her again,” Alex tells her. “I have enough to be ashamed of as it is. Jody, I’ve done things.”

“Whatever you want from me, I’ll give it,” Jody tells her. “What you’ve been through the last 48 alone. Losing your entire family, everything you’ve ever known or loved. No one can understand that.”

“You can,” Alex tells her.

<3 <3 <3

Quotes Quotations Quotables Quote:

Nest? I'm guessing that's not half as cute and cozy as it sounds.

You two are FBI? Then I'm Taylor Swift.

Nice work back there. "Look at me, bitch?”

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