#castiel smiled when dean stabbed in the heart

[super-flan]

When Dean stabbed Cas in the heart with the demon knife Cas smiled. Cas smiled. I will always wonder if he was showing off, or if he thought all the shooting & stabbing were normal. If they were just testing him & it was normal for them to do so.

I mean, he smiled. He SMILED.

Did he know they were trying to kill him & was just showing off, or did he think this was normal?

That smile will haunt me forever.

[fatecantstopme]

What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

[ninii-winchester]

You’d never know (Final)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.8k

Warnings : slight angst, fluff, steamy kisses (?)

A/n : just so you know I’m not a doctor.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

"I just had a vision." Patience announced.

Claire who had been sobbing in Kaia's arms, looked up at her expectantly. She had been feeling guilty knowing it was meant for her but Y/n had saved her. She hated it, it was always Sam, Dean and Y/n saving her every damn time.

"What? What is it?" The blonde girl asked, looking at the psychic with hopeful eyes.

"She'll live." The moment Patience said that, couple of relived breaths were heard along with a flapping of wings.

Castiel appeared at the boatyard and knelt beside Y/n's almost lifeless body. Dean looked at his best friend with relief and gratefulness.

"I came as soon as Sam called." Cas said placing his hand over the wound, he couldn't heal her completely since he was not at his full potential but he managed to close the wound enough to stop the bleeding, however the wound was still present. Her heart rate had picked up and was beating steadily but she remained unconscious. "You need to take her to the hospital right now." The Angel added.

Dean didn't waste a second before hauling her up in his arms and running out of the boatyard. The others followed behind. While Sam and Cas went to the hospital with Dean, Jody and Donna took the girls back home, with the promise of coming to see her soon.

They arrived at the hospital soon enough and Y/n was taken to the ER. Dean had spent the past hour pacing around the hallway.

"Sammy, thank you for calling Cas. She wouldn't have made it, had you not. God I wasn't even in my senses....I" Dean rambled nervously walking back and forth, waiting for the doctors to tell him something, anything. After an hour or so a doctor emerged from the room.

"Y/n Paige's next of kin?" The doctor called out and Dean's pacing came to a halt.

"It's me." He said walking up to the doctor.

"You're her?" The doctor questioned.

"Husband." Dean nodded trying to look convincing enough. "I'm her husband."

"Well Mr. Paige your wife's condition is stable for now. The stab wound was pretty deep, but it managed to avoid any vital organs or nerve damage. We've cleaned and closed the wound. But we still need to keep her under observation for a few days. And she needs to rest." The doctors words seemed to ease Dean out of his misery. "Your wife is a lucky one Mr. Paige, and one hell of a fighter." That made Dean smile a bit. "A wound like that," the doctor trailed off with a sputter. "God saved her." He added. Dean looked back his best friend, mentally correcting the doctor.

It wasn't God who saved her, it was an Angel of the Lord.

"Can i see her, doctor?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Sure we'll shift her to a private room and then you can see her. Although she might be asleep for a long time." The doctor said before he left.

Sam came behind his brother and patted him on the back. Uncharacteristically Dean turned around and hugged his brother, shuddering a bit as he did so. He was about to lose the love of his life. Had it not been his brother's quick thinking, he would've lost her forever. Sam happily returned his brother's embrace, hoping to provide him with a sense of comfort.

After Y/n was shifted to a private room, Dean went in to see her. He settled on the chair beside her bed. His hand found hers and he held onto it for dear life. He pressed a kiss to get knuckles before he spoke,

"Baby, I'm so fucking sorry. Please just wake up." Dean sniffled a bit resting his head on her hand. "I love you. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Dean didn't know when he fell asleep but he expected Y/n to be awake he woke up. Much to his dismay she wasn't. It was around three in the morning, The machines in the room were beeping steadily, and he had hoped for her to wake up soon. The more he waited the more anxious he felt. Thousands of what ifs creeped up in his mind. What if she doesn't wake up? What if she doesn't forgive me? Hell what if she doesn't remember me?

Three hours later, Dean felt her move. Her fingers brushed against his' as she slowly blinked her eyes open. She immediately closed them back due to the bright lights. She blinked slowly before opening her eyes again.

"Dean?"

"Goodness baby you're awake." Dean sat up straight, relieved as ever. "I'm gonna get the doctor. The doctor checked her vitals and asked her basic questions. After the doctor was sure she was okay, he left the room.

"Do you need anything? Is anything hurting?" Dean asked standing beside her bed.

"Water please." Dean nodded and grabbed her a glass of water, bringing it near her face to help her drink it.

"Why?" Y/n whispered. Dean froze as he was putting away the glass. He hadn't expected her to jump right to it. He sighed sitting back on the chair.

"Sweetheart-"

"Why did you say that Dean? Has that always been on your mind? Do you think that i don't know what a mother is just because i never had one?" She asked quietly and Dean would've preferred her yelling at him instead of that because her small voice just shattered his heart into a million pieces.

"No, not at all baby I'm so sorry, i really am. I never wanted to say any of that, I wasn't thinking straight." Dean said as softly as possible. "I was just too stressed and she wasn't cooperating and you then you jumped in front of my gun. I just..."

"It doesn't justify your actions, Dean. You knew it was a sensitive subject for me and you just had to home." She cried and he sat on the bed beside her.

"Don't cry baby," he said wiping her years with his thumb. "It was a low blow and i would never forgive myself for what i said. I just need you to know I'm sorry. That i love you. And I'm nothing without you." Dean rested his forehead on hers and she didn't lean away from his touch. "I want you to know that my life literally went to shit since the moment we were apart. Got stuck in a goddamn bad place and you had to come save my ass." She chuckled through her tears. "If only i hadn't been so stupid, you wouldn't be here, I am sorry sweetheart."

"Dean, you hurt me." She said stating the obvious. "I really want to forgive you but it's hard. I need time. I need some time away." Dean's face fell at her words. He wasn't ready to let her go. Not now, not ever. He'd do anything for her to forgive him but he can't let her leave.

"Away?" Y/n nodded looking away. She didn't want to look at him, not when she's vulnerable and emotional. She knows the minute she looks into those mesmerising green eyes she'll fold. And she knows she'll forgive him eventually too but she can't do it right away. She needs to stand her ground.

"Baby I'll do whatever you want me to do just don't go anywhere. I'd do anything. You can't just leave. The bunker's your home, sweetheart. You need to rest and we won't be sure of your safety anywhere else."

"Dean-"

"Anything you want." Dean bargained pleadingly.

"I'll go back to bunker with you, on one condition."

"Anything."

"You'll give me space." Dean didn't want to. He wanted to refuse out right. He just wanted to hold her in his arms for as long he could.

"Let me take care of you until you heal." He caressed her cheek softly. He was making it harder for her than it already was. She was already putty in his hands and she knew she would forgive him sooner than she intended.

"You're so stubborn." Y/n groaned pushing his chest lightly. "Fine." Dean grinned at her placing a soft kiss at her forehead.

After Y/n was discharged from the hospital, Dean drove her back to the bunker. He had been the complete gentleman, from opening the car door for her to carrying her inside the bunker. He even brought her flowers before they left the hospital. He knows he fucked up big time but he's grateful that she intends to forgive him and he will never take that forgiveness for granted.

It took two weeks for Y/n's wound to heal completely and Dean had been going full on mother hen on her all through that time. All through this time Y/n had been distant and aloof. It did dishearten Dean to no end but he wasn’t willing to give up. He was taking care of her in every way possible.  Reprimanding her for walking on her own, not letting her do anything around the bunker, feeding her and reminding her to take her medicines on time. Not to forget bringing her flowers every time he went out.

Another week had passed and Y/n had been sleeping in own room for the past three weeks. She missed Dean. She knew he was remorseful of his actions. She quickly threw the blanket off her legs and made her way towards his room. She knocked on his door. The door opened revealing Dean, looking soft as ever in just a tshirt and sweatpants, his hair a bit ruffled.

"Were you sleeping?" She asked shyly.

"No." His voice a little gruff and tired. He rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other was still at the doorknob. She took a step forward.

"I missed you." She whispered before pressing her lips to his'. He was shocked at first but immediately grabbed the back of her head with his hand and kissed her roughly. The hand in her hair slipped down to her back and further down. He moved his arm under the curve of her rear and she jumped a bit wrapping her legs around his waist. He picked her up effortlessly and closed the door. He took her to bed without breaking the kiss and laying her onto the bed.

"Missed you so much, darling." He mumbled leaving open mouthed kissed onto her neck and jaw. Y/n grabbed the back of his head pulling him up for another steamy kiss. Their lips moved in perfect sync as well as their hearts beats.

"I love you." She murmured against his lips.

"God sweetheart, I love you more." He panted, pulling away, hovering above her. "I swear I'm never gonna do anything like that, ever again." Though his body was fire with insatiable lust but his eyes were filled with sincerity and adoration.

"You better not or else I'll-" He interrupted her threat.

"Cross my heart, baby." He sealed his promise with a passionate kiss.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[jackexmachina]

I loved my friend. — Langston Hughes

image description: scenes from “Torn and Frayed,” “All Along the Watchtower,” “Lost and Found,” “Inherit the Earth,” and “Carry On” interspersed with lines from the above poem by Langston Hughes.

8x10: Sam sits wistfully on a bench watching a couple walk past, they are holding hands and huddled under an umbrella. As another person crosses in front of him, Castiel appears sitting next to him on the bench looking pensive. Sam jumps in his seat when he notices Castiel, who pauses for a moment before saying, “Watching humanity... it never gets old, does it?”

text: [I loved my friend.]

12x23: Castiel comes through the portal to another world, breathing heavily, and Sam smiles in relief saying, “Cas!” Castiel turns to him before he is suddenly stabbed through the heart, then his eyes and mouth pour out a bright white light. Sam is shocked, and then looks terrified to see Lucifer standing behind Castiel as his body falls to the ground.

text: [He went away from me. / There’s nothing more to say.]

13x01: Sam stands with Jack in front of the pyre for Castiel and Kelly. Sam looks near tears, saying, “You hope they’re somewhere without... sadness. Or pain.” Jack takes this in, looking confused and concerned. Sam turns to him, nodding as he says, “You hope they’re somewhere better. You say goodbye.”

text: [The poem ends, / Soft as it began,—]

15x19: Dean stands in front of Sam and Jack in an empty street with several abandoned vehicles. He tells them, “Cas is gone.” Jack looks down slightly, shaking his head looking upset and lost. Sam looks away from Dean and then to Jack with short breaths, then says, “This can’t be happening.” He turns around, pulling his phone from his pockets and walking away.

text: [I loved my friend.]

15x20: At a pie festival, Sam watches a couple with two kids walk by holding hands. After, he tells Dean, “I’m not ‘Sad Sam.’” Dean raises his eyebrows, skeptically, and Sam hesitates. He explains, “I’m just... I’m thinking about Cas. Jack. If they could be here.” Dean nods and looks off as he finishes speaking.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Someone (Not) To Lose

It’s a close shave this time, and not just metaphorically. Castiel’s heart skips a very human beat when Nael draws his angel blade along the side of Dean’s neck and blood spurts. Its spray paints additional freckles on Dean’s face, and then the rhythmic pumping starts, a thick, scarlet spout. 

Deans eyes go wide in shock. 

Castiel roars: “NOOO!”

Nael lets Dean drop, and he lands on the already blood-slick floor, clutching at the wound in his neck.

Castiel knows there is little time. Humans are so fragile. It takes only minutes for them to bleed out. Such beautiful bodies, so delicate. Even Dean who is strength embodied and perfection poured into skin, flesh and bones. 

Castiel throws himself at Nael. It’s rage and fear against cold calculation, and Cas has to willfully control the storm of emotions that will weaken him in this fight. Their angel blades clash, sparks flying, metal singing. They’re a blur of celestial cruelty. 

Castiel lunges and pivots, stabs and slashes, blocks and punches with his other hand. His muscles are driven by urgency, his movements fuelled by fear of loss. It seems imminent, Dean growing ever paler in a widening pool of blood, eyelids drooping. 

I can’t lose him. I’d lose myself.

Maybe it is that - love - which gives him the upper hand on Nael who has nothing (and no one) to lose. Maybe God cared to blink at the earth and found he still had use of Dean Winchester and his wayward angel. Maybe it’s pure luck.

Whatever it is - in the wild tussle, Castiel’s elbow finds Nael’s nose. A crunch, and the angel staggers back, tripping over Dean’s booted foot. He flails and falls, and Castiel plunges the blade deep into his chest before Nael even hits the floor. In a blinding blaze from his eyes and mouth, Nael burns out.

“Dean!” 

Castiel is on his hands and knees at Dean’s side, kneeling in his blood. Dean is pale as a sheet and still, his eyes closed. As soon as Castiel’s hand touches the gash in his neck, the wound seals, glowing white, and leaves no trace. 

“Dean?”

Hand shaking, Castiel shifts his fingers to Dean’s carotid where he’s learned to find a human pulse if there is one. He waits, prayers bleeding from his panicked soul. Has learned to count, twenty-one, twenty-two, and -

There it is. Dean’s life, beating a faint but steady rhythm against his fingertips. 

“Thank God….!” Cas cannot help saying it.

Under his touch, Dean stirs. His brow furrows, his eyelids flutter open. And then Cas has him back, confusion in that green gaze, lips drawn apart in wonder.

“What-...?” Dean sits up in alarm, Cas’ hand on his shoulder. 

“Nael’s dead,” Castiel explains, steady now, his world righting itself on its axis. “And you’re okay.”

Remembering, Dean touches his neck and looks at his hand, then at the pool of blood they’re both sitting in.

“Damnit, Cas…”, he says in amazement. Then his eyes meet Castiel’s, crinkling in a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Cas rises and extends a helping hand. “You’re welcome.” 

He pulls Dean to his feet. Raising an eyebrow at both their blood-spattered, blood-soaked selves, he cannot help suppress an elated smirk. 

“Join me in the shower?” Castiel asks cheekily. 

Dean’s chuckle makes his heart soar.

“Least I can do, Cas. And maybe a little more.”

They leave the gory scene behind, along with the fear and the near-loss, Dean’s arm across Castiel’s shoulders, Cas’ arm around Dean’s waist, reveling in their closeness, in being alive. 

[all-or-nothing-baby]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

@slytherkins and @shealynn88 my loves, thank you both muchly for my tags! it may have taken me 6months (+?!) to get to this... but LET'S GO! lol.

(okay i'm a proper rebel me so i'm picking my FAVES FROM 5 FANDOMS instead bc nobody can stop meeeeeee mwuhahaha!)

NOTE: if you're going to read any of these fics, firstly tysm ily <3. secondly and most importantly, PLS CHECK THE REST OF THE TAGS ON AO3 AS I'VE ONLY LISTED A SELECT FEW HERE.

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1. STRANGER THINGS (Harringrove)

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HOUNDS OF LOVE (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Past Underage, Angst, Semi-public Sex, Porn with Love, POV Billy, 2282, EXPLICIT)

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Billy has always been a coward. Ever since—ever since Her. Since she did the double-up on him. Since she switched off and let her light go out of his life forever by taking off and leaving Billy Boy Blue's sorry ass behind.

Harrington doesn’t know any of this though. Nobody does. Nobody will. And nobody should anyways because Billy, he shouldn't be so pathetic. He’s supposed to suck it up and shut the fuck up not moon over it, not be a little pussy while he's getting his boy-pussy railed. And he certainly shouldn't be moaning through this feral fucking need of his like some frilly pink-pantied cheerleader, hell.

Never did know what was good for you, boy.

OR

Billy just wants to get royally fucked.

Doesn't want this. Doesn't want to be coddled. Doesn't want to be treated nice. Doesn't want some rich boy's dumb lovin'.

Even if he actually, really does.

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CHERRY BOMB SERIES (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Getting Together, POV Steve Harrington, Teen-Explicit)

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A collection of Harringrove fics which hopefully read well as stand-alones BUT will also eventually—and are intended to—make up one big Steve Harrington POV 'Five times Steve wonders... & One Time He Doesn't Have To' Getting Together story.

EDIT: Now with an added little interlude in the middle which will bump up the final number of works.

Updates as and when xp

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2. SUPERNATURAL (deancas)

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THE LAST TIME (Castiel/Dean Winchester, AU—Modern Setting, Sex-work, Not Really Non-requited, POV Dean, 2269, MATURE)

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Hey, baby. Wanna spend the night with an angel?

No such thing, Dean had tried. But it had come out as a question, a challenge. An almost Prove me wrong... please? And with a smile which he couldn't have helped if he'd tried.

OR

Hurt/Comfort Modern Sex Worker AU where maybe fate and free will can exist side by side.

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WET EARTH'S CALLED MUD (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence, Angst, First Kiss, Getting Together, POV Dean, 1905, TEEN)

.

Dean, I've got you

And I realise: he always has me.

Sheet and fork lightning fires up the whole sky and thunder cracks its huge whip above us, clouds bursting like huge water balloons, the downpour soaking us in seconds.

Everything is terrifying.

OR

Fix-It-Fic for Jack in the Box WHERE THEY ACTUALLY TALK DAMMIT. And maybe do the thing they should've been doing for 11 bloody years.

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THE DAY THE WORLD WENT AWAY (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending (as much as endverse can be), POV Dean, Porn with Love, 7346, EXPLICIT)

.

Dean had come to apologise. To thank Cas. But pieces of Cas' broken heart were now on show, stabbing right through his beautiful face, slicing through Jimmy's muscles and skin. Dean could see it all now, pouring out through the jagged cuts; fear, shame, all the hurt—the lion's share of it of which Dean himself had caused. Cas was now wearing his pain on full display all over his body, like a shiny fucking outfit of the day.

Dean had never hated himself more. Even after torturing an endless stream of once-human souls in hell.

Cas let the pistol drop to the floor.

"Then what, Dean?" he choked, "why are you here?" His wet eyes searched Dean's with such wretched frustration, Dean couldn't take it a second longer. Had to make it go away, end the pain. Ironically, Dean realised, he did want to make everything stop for Cas—for both of them—even if only for a little while. Just not by means of a bullet.

How the hell do you make the whole world just stop?

OR

Quite possibly the only not-completely-100%-gut-wrenching Endverse fic you might ever find.

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THURSDAY'S SMILE (Canon Universe, First Kiss, Getting Together, Proof I Can Write Fluff, POV Dean, 1381, TEEN)

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Cas walked around the stainless steel kitchen island to Dean's side, his eyes now keen on the square of dressing protecting a nasty cut on the left side of Dean's forehead. As he reached his destination, his right knee automatically slid between Dean's knees to part them, allowing him to stand in between—and closer to Dean. Like, a lot closer.

Dean tried his best to take a slow and secret, calming deep breath.

It didn't help. Now his sense of smell was just reaffirming what his heart was already screaming at him with each beat:

CAS-CAS, YES-YES, CAS-CAS, YES-YES

Cas peeled back the surgical tape and lifted the gauze to check the cut.

And then it just kind of... happened. Dean was tired, hadn't even had his first essential cup of joe yet, let alone the necessary second. It was just a dumb joke, really.

OR

When it finally happens, it's on a Thursday.

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3. TEEN WOLF (sterek)

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LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Stiles Has Self-esteem Issues, Choking, Consensual Non-consent, POV Stiles, 713, EXPLICIT)

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They both know not talking about this isn't okay, isn't healthy, but—and God knows why—Derek loves Stiles. So, the big guy, he gets it: that the best thing isn't always the right thing.

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DRAW YOUR SWORDS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Angst, Pining, Getting Together, POV Derek, 7914, EXPLICIT)

.

Something inside Derek snaps. No, not snaps. Clicks into place. He snarls, "That's my line, little pig."

Shit.

Stiles blinks, twice. Three times. "What?" and he’s flailing at Derek's reference.

"If you're the little pig…" Derek's predator eyes flick deftly across each of Stiles' delicate features, "...then what does that make me?" 

Realisation crosses sharp yet soft bone structure and Stiles answers, slowly.

"You're the big…"

Derek moves impossibly closer.

"...bad…"

A goddamn virus.

"...wolf."

OR

Derek keeps his distance from Stiles, regardless of how he feels about him. It's better that way. Better for Stiles.

But when Stiles has had enough of pretending there's nothing between them, just how much longer can Derek's wolf be tamed?

.

INCLUDES MY ART!

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THE CROSS HE BEARS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Wolf!Derek (for a time), Derek Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-slash, POV, Derek, 702, MATURE)

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Stiles knows exactly how to take care of his wolf.

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4. BBC SHERLOCK (jimlock)

MY NAME IS A KILLING WORD (Jim Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, Canon Universe, First Kiss(es), Sherlock's First Time, Getting Together, Jim Moriarty in Love, POV Jim, 671, MATURE)

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He's so funny. Not to them. But to me, he's so funny.

The first time I kissed him—up against a wall, John just around the corner, Sherlock taller than me but certainly feeling small—he was bait on my hook. So much so, I was sure he'd squirm as such but he froze. A museum pillar of what the fuck? Didn't struggle as I tasted Stiff Upper Lip whilst trying to coax out a passion I just knew he had buried inside of him. Then he whispered Moriarty, like a question, and it was hilarious. Hilarious because it was so infuriatingly Sherlock, and hilarious 'cause it was hot as naked sin, I remember thinking as I spirited away, giggling.

OR

The first time Sherlock finally calls his nemesis by his given name. (Moriarty POV).

.

5. PREACHER (the unholy trinity)

WELL, I HEARD THERE WAS A SECRET CHORD (Proinsias Cassidy/Jesse Custer/Tulip O'Hare, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Poly Relationship—F-M-M, PWP, Light Dom/Sub, POV Tulip, 1326, EXPLICIT)

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How do the Unholy Trinity manage to turn anything remotely pious into something truly ungodly?

Like fucking pros, that's how.

With Tulip hating on Genesis, she finds a way to take back a little control... with the help of a certain raucous Irish vampire.

OR

The PWP Dom!Tulip Sub!Jessidy fic nobody asked for.

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TUMBLR DON'T EAT THIS IT'S TAKEN ME FORACTUALBLOODYEVER!

[holylulusworld]

Invisible Touch - Kinktober 10

Title: Invisible Touch

Summary: You buy Dean’s house and car.

Square Filled for @spndeanbingo​​​: Sexual Frustration

Square Filled for @spnquotebingo​​: ( “I could tell the police what happened. That it was an accident.” “You stabbed your wife in the neck with a screwdriver. Tried to bring her back from the dead, and then buried her body. That ain’t an accident, (name). That sounds like a crazy person who killed his wife.” - DATT

Kink: Spectrophilia  

Pairing: Ghost?Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Rowena

Warnings: language, mentions of accidents, mentions of cheating, masturbation, sex toys, fingering, oral (fem rec), ghost lover trope, mentions of coma

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,8 k

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

2021 SPN Dean Bingo masterlist

Kinktober 2021

“Your references are the best,” the real-estate agent says while you have a look around the house. Once upon a time, it was a cozy home and a place to have a peaceful and quiet life. “It’s a pretty little house, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you admire the restored fireplace and the old but cozy armchair in front of it. “It seems like someone put a lot of effort and love into this place but upped and left afterward. Why’s that?”

“Oh, it’s a sad story miss,” she says. “The owner, he bought the house for his fiancé and renovated it with his own hands. Sadly, he got into an accident before they could move in. Poor man, she married not a year later; a different guy, of course.”

“She moved on quickly,” you slide your fingertips over a shelf, stopping to admire a picture. “Nice, a classic muscle car. 1967er Impala, a beautiful thing. I’d kill to drive it.”

“The car is still in the garage, miss. His brother said he can’t drive the car and something about too many memories,” watching her warily you lick your lips. “He doesn’t want much. Only someone loving the car as much as his brother loved it. Sam said his brother called her Baby.”

“Baby,” you grasp for the picture to have a closer look, smiling. The former owner sits on the hood, smiling at whoever took the picture. “An attractive man, what a shame.”

“Rumors said he was a heartbreaker but wanted to settle down with his fiancé. I mean, he bought a house for her and renovated it on his own,” whilst the real-estate agent babbles about the garden, the master bedroom, and garage you only have eyes for the car on the picture.

“How much does he want for the house and car?” you whip your head toward your now smiling real-estate agent. “If he gives me the car too, I’ll buy the house.”

“I’ll call him, give me a minute. Here,” she places the keys to the garage into your hands. “Have a look at the car while I talk to Sam. I’m sure we will come to an agreement.”

“Awesome,” you squeal, jumping up and down. “I think this is the perfect place to start over.” Nodding to yourself you press the keys to your heart. “Do you have the keys to the car too?”

“Of course. Here,” she smirks, “but no going for a ride before Sam agreed to sell it to you, Y/N. We cannot crash his brother’s car.”

“Look at you, beautiful thing,” sliding your fingertips over the roof of the car you sigh. “I bet your former owner loved you, pretty girl. What do you say? I open the garage gate and we will see if you still roar for me.”

“Look at you,” a deep voice purrs and your head snaps toward the car. For a moment it seemed someone sat in the driver’s seat. “Baby, I miss you.”

“Odd,” you shrug. Nothing and no one can stop you from opening the door to the driver’s seat to slip inside. “Beautiful.” You run your hands over the steering wheel, smiling as you got the feeling the former owner did love the car. “I wonder why his fiancé didn’t want you, pretty girl.”

“She always hated my Baby,” the voice is back, and you look around the car, freezing when the car feels much colder, and you can see your breath. “Sorry. This happens when I stray for too long.”

“Let’s bring you back to life, huh?” you start the engine only to hear…nothing. “Aw, what’s wrong with you, Baby?” gently patting the dashboard you sigh deeply. “If his brother agrees to sell you to me, I’ll check on you, promised.”

“Sell my Baby?” the voice sounds sadder now, and you wonder if the long flight and the stress over the last weeks took a toll on you. “Sammy…why?”

“Please, do not sell the car to anyone offering you more money,” Sam Winchester, the brother of Baby’s former owner asks. “Take good care of her. Dean would understand I cannot keep her.”

“Dean, a nice name,” you shake Sam’s hand, give the tall man a soft smile. “Somehow it suits your brother.”

“I’ll sign the papers tomorrow. You will need a moving team. If you need help, tell me so,” Sam tries so hard to hold back the tears. You can see he’s struggling to keep his cool, so you grasp for his hand to squeeze it tightly.

“I promise to take good care of the car and house. I can almost feel how much love your brother put into this place and his car and,” you give the tall man a cracked smile, “all I own is in my car. When I said I’m starting over at this place, I meant it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to—” he bites his tongue, stops the words stuck on his tongue. “I’ll bring you the keys and papers in the morning. If you want to, you can sleep here tonight.”

“Bad breakup,” you splutter. “Just like your brother, my fiancé bought a big house. But he didn’t buy all the things for me but his ex-girlfriend. The one I found in our bed one day…”

“Oh fuck,” you throw popcorn at the TV you bought last week. Sam helped you to put it on the wall opposite your brand-new bed to enjoy movie nights. “He just killed his wife!” you stop the movie to take a sip of your wine. “Okay, let’s see what happens next.

Watching the next scenes, you frown deeply. “What are we watching, sweetheart?” the TV is too loud for you to hear the voice coming from the walk-in wardrobe.

“I could tell the police what happened. That it was an accident.” “You stabbed your wife in the neck with a screwdriver. Tried to bring her back from the dead, and then buried her body. That ain’t an accident, Roy. That sounds like a crazy person who killed his wife.” the dialogue of the next scene makes you snort.

“Dude, did he just try to excuse he killed his poor wife. Lame. I hope he gets what he deserves. But I’d like to see more off that sheriff guy. He wasn’t too bad to look at.”

“Your taste in movies is lame, but I like your style,” the voice whispers. “I have a huge collection of flannel too. Have a look. There should be boxes at the attic full of treasure.”

You shiver when an invisible hand slides over your exposed thigh. “Hello?” you laugh at yourself. “Stupid. There is no one inside these walls but you, the stray cat coming around for food and dust.”

You blame the lack of sleep when the voice returns. “Name’s Dean and I like that you are wearing flannel and sexy panties,” your eyes flutter shut, and you drift into sleep. You don’t feel the hand runs over your hair or that he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Wish we met before all this shit happened. I bet we would have hit it off like champs,” Dean flickers for a moment before he, yet again, disappears.

“So—how do you like the house?” Sam came around to check on you once again. He seems to be worried you live alone at his brother’s house, or he feels nostalgic and tries to stay close to the place his brother would’ve called home.

“It’s nice, and I didn’t have to change too much. I bought a new shelf and bed but anything else is very much the same,” you smile up at Sam. “I like it very much, Sam. Thank you for selling it to me.”

“You were the first one not wanting change too much. I had a good feeling,” you chuckle at his words, missing the pained expression when Sam’s eyes land on Dean’s pictures on the shelf. You didn’t dare to remove it. It just didn’t feel right to do so.

“I—I didn’t want to put it away. I hope this is okay,” he nods, giving you a soft smile. “Feels like the right thing to do.”

“Dean,” Sam trails off. “I need to make a few decisions and won’t be around much. I waited for far too long to do so.”

“Oh—okay. Don’t worry, I’ll not burn down the house without you checking on me,” you smirk, patting Sam’s chest. “Take your time. I appreciate you try to help me settle in, but sometimes, you must put yourself first.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” you whimper eyes glued to the screen. “Fuck, so close. I need to—” moving the vibrator a little faster you try to focus on the pleasure, not the fact you are watching porn and use a vibrator to get off. 

“Fuck sweetheart,” Dean bites his lower lip. “I—I don’t want to be a fucking creep, but it’s been a while since I saw a naked woman. Tilt it a little to the left. It will feel so much better.”

You are too lost in your approaching orgasm to care the voice is back, closer this time. Spreading your legs wider you move your hips, try to pretend someone is fucking you instead of the vibrator.

“Oh—that’s—no!” you whine when the vibrator makes an odd noise. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you piece of shit.” Frustrated you slide the toy out of your dripping pussy to throw it across the room. “This means no cuddling for you.”

“Sweetheart, let me help you get off. It’s been weeks of trying for you,” you feel the bed dip and then, his warm breath tickles your skin. “Lemme help you, Y/N.”

“Ah, what?” rough hands spread your legs wider, and you wonder if you lost your mind. “Fuck.” A warm mouth wraps around your clit, suckles harshly and you forget everything else. “Please.”

“Patience, baby girl. We’ve got some time left before I must go back,” lips travel up your belly, leave open-mouthed kisses on their way up to your chest. “Dean Winchester never leaves a woman in need alone. I will give you—no!”

A scream wakes you from your lustful daze. Your eyes flutter open and you jolt up on your bed, grasping for the blanket to cover your body. “Fuck, that was intense. Last time I only felt lips on my neck.”

“Sorry for leaving before you could cum, sweetheart,” you feel his fingers run up and down your sex this time. The rough patch of his thumb toys with your clit, rolls it gently. “This time I’ll stay a little longer—or forever if Sammy pulls the plug.”

“Shit this is,” you open your eyes to watch the man between your legs. He gives you an apologetic smile before, much to your disappointment, he fades away once again. “Dean??”

“Uh—this might sound odd but,” you look at the picture of Dean on your shelf while shuffling from one foot to the other, “do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Sam wonders aloud. He frowns deeply before he lifts his gaze off you to look at the picture of his brother on your shelf. “Did anything happen lately? I mean, did you hear, smell or see anything unusual?”

“What do you mean?” it’s your turn to frown. You watch the tall man sit on your couch, hands running up and down his thighs. “Sam, what are you hiding from me?”

“Sometimes people stay or come back to a place they loved while in a coma. The soul tries to stay while the body fights for its life,” he explains. “I believe my brother fights to stay here.”

“Fights to stay. What?” you start to pace the living room, hands stiffly clutched to your sides. “I thought your brother is dead?”

“No, no,” Sam gives you a sad smile. “He's on life support following an auto accident for over three years. I wanted to tell the hospital to end the life-sustaining measures months ago, but I can’t. I know his soul is gone but...”

“Oh—” you silently nod. “Can I visit him?” you meet Sam’s gaze, search his face to find out if you crossed a line. “It feels like the right thing to do. I want to thank him for the beautiful house and tell him I changed the spark plugs.”

“He would be happy to have some company,” Sam smiles. “I guess he got bored listening to my voice.”

“Hi—uh,” you sit on a chair next to the hospital bed, wondering if you should talk to Dean or just sit here. “I heard you were a mechanic before all of this happened. Now everything makes sense. Baby is in such good shape thanks to you.”

The machines silently work, keep the man in the hospital alive while you watch his chest rise and fall. “She’s beautiful, and I love the house. Especially the old armchair. I sit in front of the fireplace to read.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Nothing about my fingers in your pussy?” Dean snickers but his smile falters when his eyes land on his body. “Wish I could slip back inside my body to fuck you properly.”

“I replaced the sparkplugs a week ago. Now Baby purrs like a cat again,” you continue, ignoring the deep voice telling you about all the things he’d like to do to you. “Dean, can you just not?”

“WAIT!” he gasps, hand gripping your shoulder. “Did ya hear me, sweetheart? I mean…I thought you felt me, but this is a whole new level. Not even Sammy can hear me.”

“I thought you know I can hear you,” your eyes drift toward the man on the hospital bed again. “I can feel you too.” Oddly you feel calm when the invisible hand grips you a little tighter.

“Sonofabitch, we need to tell Sammy about it. Maybe he can use a spell or shit to get me back into my body,” Dean excitedly starts to pace the room. “Can you believe I hunted monsters and demons and then, a stupid car accident almost kills me?”

“Suburban hell, huh?” 

“Damn right, sweetheart. It’s just, I gave everything up for her and then, the accident happened. I always believed she would stay with me, or at least wait a little longer before she runs away with someone else.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he begins to flicker again, but this time, he doesn’t disappear. Dean fights for control to stay a little longer. He spent three years alone and now, he doesn’t want to stop talking to you. “If you want me to, I’ll talk to Sam.”

“He’s still here, Cas,” Sam paints odd signs onto the floor, chants words you don’t understand while you awkwardly stand next to his brother’s ghost. 

“Sam, I tried anything to heal Dean. I told you a long time ago to let him go,” another man says, giving Sam a stern look. “Why is he even here?”

“That hurts my feelings,” a smaller guy in a black suit chuckles. He cocks his head to his side to glance at Dean stand next to you. “I’m here to have a look at Dean Winchester, the fallen hunter. Nice to see you, Dean.”

“Can’t say the same about you, Crowley,” Dean grumbles next to you. “What do you want?”

“Help Moose and giraffe to get you back into your body. Now shush, and lemme work my magic,” Crowley eyes you up and down, smirking when Dean steps in front of you. “Even while half-dead you found a girl, huh.”

“You mean my magic, Fergus,” a red-haired woman enters the room, smiling at you. “Nice to finally meet you, Y/N…”

“Careful, you just got back into your body,” you tut, watching Dean stumble toward the couch. “What did that guy in the trench coat do to the doctor and nurses?”

“Castiel deleted their memory,” Dean weakly replies. He barely can stand for a few minutes, so you rush to his side to help him sit on your couch. “Thanks.”

“Now that we are roommates and you are back among the living, we should talk about a few rules,” sitting next to Dean you pat his thigh. “No more dying and, your car is mine.”

“Can we talk about rules after I tasted you for real?” he gives you a loop-sided grin. “Lemme make you feel good. And no, Baby is not yours. I’ll give you your money back.”

“You can taste a slice of pie, Romeo,” patting his thigh you give him a soft smile.  “After you got better, we can talk about the other thing and your car...”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[pixiealamode]

@deancaskiss

Summer Dreamy Drabble Day Four: Memories

Memory

"Do you remember when we met?" Dean asked as he carefully shaved away his depression beard, Castiel was watching him from the edge of the bathtub. Dean refused to let the angel out of his sight even for a shower post rescue from the empty. It had only been a few months but Dean treated it like it was years. He watched the angel sleep, he watched the angel cook, he couldn't let him out of his sight. Anxiety clawed at Dean's insides every time Castiel went to a different aisle in the super market.

"Yes of course Dean, you stabbed me in the heart." Cas smiled at the memory, his dark hair plastered against his head. No matter how many showers he took he couldn't seem to erase the crawling sensation off his skin.

"Yeah well your welcome." He tapped the edge of razor on the sink. Castiel had been back for three weeks and the beard had to go. He eyed himself in the mirror; his hair was longer now nearly long enough to touch his cheek bones.

"You were beautiful then, all machismo in your Dad's leather jacket. What happened to that jacket Dean?" Cas pulled on Dean's favorite AC/DC tee, wetting the collar with his head.

"Dunno. I think i left it in some hotel." He shrugged.

"And yet you kept my trench coat in the trunk of your car for months?" Cas touched his arm gently, his eyes meeting Dean's in the mirror.

"That's different Cas. I... heh I uh..." Dean put the razor down half his face still furry and covered in shaving cream. He turned to Castiel, they were so close, their chests almost touching.

"I uh didn't get to say this to you before you were taken Cas. Im not very good at saying how i really feel. Maybe you already know maybe you don't but I love you too. I love you. I think i've always loved you."

Castiel blinked rapidly, his face showing thousands of emotions in a second.

"Dean I..."

"Hold on wait, lemme uh, lemme say this. You are probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. You gave me something that no one has ever given me. You gave me hope Cas. Hope." Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and buried his face in his neck.

"Dean I'm so sorry i left you like that." Castiel whispered. "I'll never leave you again." Dean smiled against his skin.

"Let's make more memories Cas."

[destielomegaversebigbang]

When I Get That Feeling

by redamber79 | art by sidewinder

Dying in the barn from a stab by the Michael Spear, Castiel confessed his love to the man he knew to be his True Mate. But at that moment, grieving the imminent loss, Dean couldn't accept his words. He turned away, leaving Cas’ words unacknowledged. Miraculously cured of the wound, Castiel returned to the bunker with the Winchesters. And yet the rejection ate at Castiel's grace and vessel, until he lay dying once again. This time, he knew it would be for good, for no angel could survive without their True Mate.

Determined that Cas must live so he can have the chance to return the words, Dean begs Gabriel for help, only to be told that he alone can save Castiel.

And that it'll take a very special kind of feeling, a particular kind of healing to bring him back from the edge of oblivion. A trip back in time shows him the way. Dean commits an act of desperation to save Cas, miscommunication and misunderstandings drive them apart, and regrets harrow the star-crossed lovers, leading them both down dangerous paths. Each fears they've lost the other, perhaps for good.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings & Tags: Rape/Non-con, Omega Dean/Alpha Cas, Bottom Dean/Top Cas, Canon divergent, hurt/comfort, angst, illness, wings, Fuck or die, dubious consent, blowjob while unconscious, kissing while unconscious, feral Alpha, biting, rough sex, anal sex, grace bondage, grace tentacles, grace-powered orgasms, grace facefucking, grace sounding, knotting, forced mating, misunderstandings, vomiting, pining, rejection, abandonment issues, alcoholism, miscommunication, depression, self-worth issues, transferred pain, grace removal, suicide attempt, car crash, I’m sorry for what I do to Baby, hospital, apologizing, reconciliation, love confessions, first kiss, mpreg, clear consent, rimming, gentle sex, love making, grace sex, inappropriate use of prayer, Gabriel is so done, Sam is so done, toddler Jack, happy ending, dead dove

POSTING SEPTEMBER 24, 2022

Check under the cut for an excerpt

Excerpt:

Dean gently pulled him upright, and Castiel cautiously spread his wings to either side of him before laying down again carefully, trying not to put pressure on the fragile, twisted limbs. Dean’s face was a mask of worry and fear, but his hands were gentle again as he tucked a blanket over Castiel’s legs and stomach.

“Listen, Cas…” Dean hesitated, and Castiel watched him, content to simply spend time looking at the man who should have been his mate. “What you said—”

Castiel interrupted. He might be dying already, but to hear Dean’s rejection spoken would utterly destroy him, so he hurried to interrupt. “Forget about it, Dean, please. I… I just wanted you—all of you—to know how I feel.”

Dean seemed to wilt for a moment, then a sunny smile that failed to reach his eyes curved his lips. “Cas… You know I—we—we love you, too, buddy.”

And there it was. 'Buddy.' A friend. Beloved, surely, but not more. Never more.

Castiel closed his eyes hurriedly, not wanting Dean to see the tears there. He could still scent Dean’s distress, though. “I need to rest.”

“Cas, look, man—”

“Please,” he begged, turning his face away from Dean, but still able to feel his stare. Despite his best efforts, a tear slipped from beneath his lashes, and he heard Dean’s breath catch. Misery filled Dean’s scent, and Castiel longed to reassure him. But it would all be lies. Dean would have to accept that he was dying.

“I’ll check on you later, Cas. But you gotta promise me somethin’.”

Castiel opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to chase away the anguished tears filling his gaze.

“What do you need?”

“Don’t go leavin’. You gotta stay, man.” Dean's expression was a granite mask, but his voice cracked, and Castiel felt his heart splinter further.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Lemon and mango" - Balthazar x Reader

Summary: Balthazar always smelled like lemon and mango. Sometime after he dies, the Winchester brothers realize why that was, when she’s the only person that can help them.

Considering he was an angel, Balthazar had his quirks and oddities, which the Winchester brothers never paid much attention to. An entity created to fight and praise God simply had to be a little difficult in conversation. However, there was one detail that Dean and Sam had both noticed, although left undiscussed: the smell. The weirdness lied mostly in the fact that it was. As much as they could tell, neither Cass, nor Gabriel, nor any other angel they had met smelled in any particular way. The exception to that rule was the man in question: Balthazar. Should it be a one-time thing, they wouldn’t think that much about it but it was a faint scent that followed him everywhere he went or, rather, appeared. The scent was gentle enough to be easily overlooked but the brothers had a keen eye, or nose in this case, to pick up the little detail. For some unknown reason, Balthazar was followed by a sweet smell of mango and lemon. At the time, they didn’t know the importance of the faint aroma and the weight its absence carried. Just as oblivious were they about his impatience and annoyance that accompanied him anytime the brothers summoned him. They could hardly be at fault: one learns the importance of fire only after their world freezes over. And this story was no different.

When he stabbed Balthazar, Castiel knew how much his angel heart is going to ache for his friend. The man wasn’t dead yet, and he was already being grieved. At the moment, Castiel’s mind was drowning in guilt, melancholy, anger and a fruity scent of lemon and mango. Even after Balthazar’s grace left this plane of existence, the refreshing smell stayed in the air of Crowley’s lab. It must have bit into his clothes quite severely. In the past, Castiel had often wondered as to what actually gnawed on Balthazar’s clothes and left the fruity smell. He was, after all, the only angel in all of heaven that smelled of something. That night, with Balthazar’s corpse at his feet, Castiel realized something so dreadful his grief was ripping his skin off his bones: Balthazar did not smell of something, he smelled of someone.

”You sure this is the right place?” Dean asked as he got out of the car. They stopped in front of a newly built block of flats in the suburbs of Atlanta. According to Bobby, it was the only place they could get Koschei’s needle. ”It hardly looks like Slavic Paganism festival.”

”New Pond Apartments, Atlanta, just like Bobby said.”

Right after they knocked on the white door, a faint voice called out to them from within the apartment:

”Coming!”

Honestly, she didn’t look like someone who would stash pagan artifacts. Her face was of a pale, grayish color, her eyes were red. She has either been ill for the last month or spent it relentlessly crying. It was honestly pathetic. Seeing the men in suits, she quickly wiped her face and quietly invited them in.

When Sam and Dead stepped into the flat, they immediately froze and gave each other a knowing look. From the very first step each of them took into the apartment, they could already smell it: lemon and mango.

”I knew you were going to come here eventually,” she called from the kitchen. The kettle whistled as the water inside it boiled. ”What can I do for you?” She asked with a smile weak enough it could break with a faint gust of wind.

A gray t-shirt hanged over the back of the sofa in the living room.

Author's note: My aunt gifted me black tea with lemon and mango for Christmas. The smell is otherworldly. Another thing was that Balthazar absolutely stole my heart.

[whelvenwings]

Up to Date?

Length: ~5k Tags: Canon Divergent, Y yo a ti Cas timeline, Misunderstandings

It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.

Castiel

It was just awkward. Castiel couldn’t deny it. Things between himself and Dean were definitely awkward.

Three months back on Earth, safe from the Empty with a little help from the Winchesters and from Jack – but Castiel and Dean still hadn’t talked about it. The things that Castiel had said – and what Dean had said in return.

I love you. Me too, Cas.

Castiel knew he should have expected this, the awkwardness. Hadn’t he known Dean long enough, at this point, to be able to predict him? And there was nothing more predictable than Dean not wanting to talk about something.

Still, it hurt. There had been that shining moment of happiness, if a word as soft as happiness was even the right way to describe the feeling of absolute blazing corrosive joy that Castiel had felt when Dean had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. And now, there was just… silence.

It was awkward.

And Castiel didn’t know what to do. Was Dean waiting for him to say something? But Castiel had already said it all. It was Dean who’d only managed to choke out a few words, Dean who must have more to say. And yet he said nothing. Days were slipping past full of staring and loaded sentences and quietness.

The fact that it was all so familiar didn’t make it any better. Castiel wanted something different. It had been different before they’d said anything out loud, but – but there had been something about hearing Dean say those words, me too, Cas, that had changed everything.

He didn’t need much. Nothing grand or unusual, only something to ease the tension. Even if it was just an expression on Dean’s face that acknowledged what had passed between them, instead of pushing it away.

But Dean… Castiel knew it was different for him. There were things that Dean didn’t allow himself, for a tangle of reasons that Castiel only barely understood. Dean didn’t let himself touch. Dean didn’t let himself speak. Dean didn’t let himself look.

But Dean wanted to.

Castiel knew Dean wanted to. So many aching years that Dean had longed for him, and Castiel had been able to feel it like a prayer – and not some soft and murmured thing, a prayer of an older kind, something raw and wordless and desperate. Something on its knees. Castiel could feel the yearning in Dean. It would have been so simple for Castiel to offer touch, but Dean hadn’t ever really let him. And Dean still wasn’t letting him.

And Castiel could still feel the longing.

When they were together, and when they were several thousand miles apart, too. It was there. Never any quieter or gentler, not even from far away. It always touched the same place in Castiel’s grace that it had done from the start. And the feeling of it was just the same, too, like being doused in oil and dropped into flames that reached and hoped and hungered.

Beautiful fire. A beautiful prayer. Castiel wanted to answer it. Dean behaved as though he didn’t know it was there.

The tension in the bunker had become too much, last night, and Castiel had abruptly left with just a quick text to Dean.

> I’m going to look for the artifact Sam read about in Seoul. It shouldn’t be left unguarded.

The artifact was probably just a trinket, if Castiel was being honest with himself, and its significance paled in comparison to everything they’d been through, but it was a reason to get away from everything and give himself a break. It would have only taken Castiel moments to find the artifact if he’d wanted, but he drew it out. He walked rather than flying, pacing the streets of Seoul, following up on the leads that Sam had found. His grace hummed and sighed against Dean’s prayer.

He hoped that when he returned, something might be different. That he and Dean could talk. Maybe even – as he walked down a side-street with neon lights that glowed through the drizzling rain, Castiel allowed himself a wry little smile. Maybe even do something together. Go somewhere. Go on a date.

A date. To a human the word would probably sound little, and normal, and silly for an angel to be thinking about. But to Castiel, it just sounded like something new.

And it was so easy, somehow, to picture Dean coming into the bunker's kitchen, pointing at Castiel semi-aggressively, and saying, so. You, me, date. Up for it?

Would that be how Dean would phrase it? Castiel tried it a few different ways in his head. Down for it? How about it? You in? Each time, the Dean in Castiel's mind looked almost angry as he waited for an answer. Each time, Dean's face softened when Castiel said, yes.

So easy to imagine. So out of reach. Castiel walked on through Seoul, the rain starting to thrum down harder.

–––––

Dean

It was awkward.

Dean knew it was awkward, and he wasn’t thinking about it – he wasn’t. Except when Cas did stupid shit like ditching the bunker without warning, leaving just some handwritten note like a kid sneaking out of his tent at summer camp, it made it kind of harder to ignore.

Staring down at the note in the bunker’s library, Dean pressed his lips together and read it over again, his eyes scanning the words while his brain paid no attention to them, lost in thought.

There was something so ridiculous about it all. The moment between them, the – whatever it had been, when they’d admitted their crap to each other – it felt so overblown to look back on. Sure, Cas had had to summon the Empty, he’d had to get all deep just to save Dean’s hide. But Dean… what he’d said had just been stupid. No point to it. Dean cringed when he thought about it.

Me too, Cas.

The words were so little like something Dean would ever say that they might as well have been in a foreign language. Me too, Cas? That kind of thing didn’t have to be said. Because obviously, him too. But what were they supposed to do about it? Buy each other flowers? Feed each other chocolates? God forbid – hold hands?

Dean felt a little hot rush in his chest just thinking about it, and an accompanying stab of guilt. What were they, seventeen? They were old. Too old for flowers and chocolates. Too old for holding hands. And too old for this weird tension between them, Jesus. Who got nervous and tongue-tied and awkward around a crush at Dean’s age?

Who called it a crush at Dean’s age?

Dean, sat in the library at the bunker, dropped the note Cas had left and picked up his phone. Practicalities. Just focus on the practicalities. He should at least make sure Sam had kept Cas up to date with the latest research about the artifact that might be hidden in Seoul.

Dean tapped on the screen of his phone for a few seconds, holding it a little further away from his eyes than he used to have to do. He read over what he’d typed once, and then hit send.

–––––

Castiel

Castiel’s phone hummed.

With a little clench in his gut, Castiel stepped under the cover of a dark doorway to get out of the rain, and pulled it out of his pocket. Dean’s name was on the screen, obviously. There was the usual leap of excitement, tinged with a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. Dean would probably be angry with him for leaving.

With a stoic line to his jaw, Castiel opened the text, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.

> So. You up to date?

Castiel stared down at his phone.

No… no. He couldn’t have read that right. He blinked, and tried it again.

It still said the same thing.

You up to date?

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was… up to date? If he… wanted to date?

However many times Castiel reread the text, it said the same thing. Castiel stood absolutely still, his eyes puzzling out the letters of Dean’s message again and again.

It was – it was just the way Castiel had imagined it, if not word perfect. The brusque tone, the question. Castiel, half in shadow in a porch in rainy Seoul, stared down at his phone as if it had just promised him the moon.

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was up for dating.

Via text. Obviously. Maybe all this time, it had just been that trying to talk face-to-face had been too much. Maybe Castiel should have left for halfway across the world months ago.

Castiel could feel his heart pounding. He couldn’t stop himself reading Dean’s question, over and over again.

–––––

Dean

When the text from Cas finally came back, Dean snatched up his phone. It wasn’t that he’d been sitting and staring at it, waiting for a reply – he’d just got a little lost in thought, was all, wondering where Cas was and why he wasn’t answering sooner.

The text, though, when Dean read it, put a frown on his face.

> I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I would love to.

Wait. What? Dean checked over what he’d said himself in his first text, just to be sure he hadn’t made some kind of a typo. Nope, he’d definitely just asked if Cas was up to date with the artifact.

So, Cas would love to… what?

Cas was glad he’d asked about what?

None of it sounded like the answer to a simple question about research on an artifact, at all. Maybe Cas was just in the middle of something, and misread Dean’s text. Not something that had ever happened before, but still. Whatever.

Dean circled his thumbs over the keyboard on his screen, and then typed a reply.

< Love to do what

Keep it simple, he figured.

He sat puzzling over Cas’ first message as he waited for a reply. So glad you asked. What did that even mean? Was Cas ever particularly glad when Dean asked anything?

The reply came back quickly, this time.

> Anything you want to do. :) Maybe just going to a bar?

Dean squinted down at his phone.

Anything he wanted to do about what? A bar?

Was he losing it? Dean reread the text over and then over again, and looked back up their conversation to try to make Cas’ reply make sense. The emoticon was typical enough, even though Dean hadn’t seen a smiley one in a while. The way it made his chest squeeze was ridiculous. It was just a smile. And it just followed the words, anything you want to do.

Before he could let his mind run too far with what exactly that could mean, Dean texted back in confusion,

< You want to go to a bar?

There was something about this conversation that was making his heart beat harder. Come on, he told it. What, you can face down the end of the world more than once and a little text conversation still has you like this?

Ignoring his solid logic, Dean’s heart only raced faster when Cas texted back,

> Yes, of course. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?

So… Cas wanted to go to a bar? With Dean?

That was – well, it wasn’t that strange on Dean’s personal spectrum of strange to not strange these days. Fighting Death and God and God’s sister and all the rest of it kind of put a bunch of other strange crap way down the list. But this was still… weird. Not bad weird, necessarily.

But how had they got here, why were they talking about this? What kind of a bar, why? Dean had just wanted to check up on Cas in a few brief words and suddenly they were making evening plans? Cas was making no sense. Was he doing it on purpose? Dean read the whole conversation over again, and pulled a face of utter and annoyed confusion for the benefit of no one, and shook his head.

He thought about it, and licked his lips, and shook his head again.

And then thought some more, and made a hand gesture, as if asking of no one, what the fuck.

He texted out,

< What do u mean

He stared down at the text for a second, and then deleted it, and tried instead,

< Why are we talking about this

He didn’t even read that one over again before deleting it. He made another face, and then quickly typed and sent,

< But you’re in Seoul

However they’d arrived at the idea of going to a bar, it didn’t particularly matter when Castiel was thousands of miles away. Had deliberately ditched, in fact, which was more of an obstacle to them having a nice evening out tonight than the distance between them, but Dean wasn’t going to say that directly.

> Only for a short while longer. I’ve almost completed the search for the artifact. Then I’ll come back :)

Another damn smiley face, another little lift in Dean’s chest. Look at him. Fully grown, and soft over the idea of his best friend looking forward to spending an evening together. Yikes.

Practicalities. Dean fired off another text.

< Okay... you just wanna talk or what

If Cas was going to try to insist that they talk about stuff, well – the drinks would probably be a good place to start, but Dean would need to psych himself up to the idea of trying to explain anything at all that had happened between them. Me too, Cas. He kept hearing himself say it and wanting to bury his head in his hands. What had he been thinking. What had Cas been thinking, when he’d decided on Dean. That had to earn the award for the worst fucking choice in the history of the world.

Dean’s phone buzzed in his hands.

> I think talking is what people usually do on a date. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Dean’s eyes went wide.

–––––

Castiel

Across the world, in the porch in Seoul, Castiel watched as Dean’s little typing bubble with three dot dot dots appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared.

He tried to quiet the excitement in his chest, tried to remind himself that Dean had just implied fairly heavily that he wouldn’t want to talk on their date – which wasn’t unexpected for Dean, but it did leave Castiel wondering what else Dean might want to do.

A thought occurred to Castiel about something they might be able to do without talking, and he swallowed, and felt his hopes fly higher.

Or perhaps Dean just wanted to sit together in silence. That would be alright, too. Companionship in the quiet. When he thought about it, Castiel knew it would be more than enough just to sit by Dean in a bar and drink together, knowing that they were both choosing to be there. Even if they didn’t say a single word the whole evening, even if Dean didn’t so much as look at him the whole night. They could spend the date speechlessly. But it would be a date. It would be an acknowledgement. Maybe it would ease a little of the longing that Castiel felt and felt and felt from Dean, burning.

Finally, a text from Dean came in.

> Wait what

Wait, what?

Castiel felt his heart sink.

There was something wrong. That tone, just two stark words – something wasn’t right. Castiel scrolled back up their conversation. Had he accidentally said something rude? He couldn’t find it, reading the texts over and then over again. He’d used emoticons to show that he was happy. Had they seemed sarcastic?

Did it seem as though Castiel didn’t really want to go on a date? Or that he wouldn’t really be content for them to not talk on the date? Hurriedly, Castiel began typing again.

< I mean it. We don’t have to say anything. I just want to be there with you.

It was the kind of text that Castiel would ordinarily type out and then delete because it was too forthright, too emotional, too much for Dean – but this time, he just hit send before he could think about it. Worse than Dean being grossed out by Castiel openly having feelings was the idea of Dean not knowing that Castiel really did feel those things.

There was a long silence. Castiel stood still, waiting for Dean.

How many times had he stood, quiet, expectant, wanting Dean to be ready, hoping he would be ready, prepared to wait for an eternity until he was? In the span of Castiel’s own lifetime, he’d waited just a blink of an eye. But somehow this blink had been torturously slow. A torture Castiel would have fought to the death before trading.

Castiel’s phone hummed.

> You really want to go on a date

Castiel stared down at the screen. He couldn’t tell if the tone was judgemental or vulnerable. He blinked, and thought hard – and then, with a little shake of his head and hard press of his lips, he made a choice.

Quite suddenly, the street in Seoul was empty.

–––––

Dean

Dean almost fell out of his chair when Cas appeared opposite him in the bunker.

“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing the table in front of him with one hand. He watched as Cas tilted his head just slightly sideways at Dean’s other hand, instinctively on the butt of his gun.

He eased his hold.

“Could’ve killed you,” Dean mumbled. Cas smiled wryly.

“You could have tried,” he said.

Dean swallowed. Right. Angel powers were all the way back up, these days.

“You’re back,” he said blankly, just to say something, because immediately leaving the room didn’t seem like it would be a good idea – however much the nervousness in his brain was insisting that this conversation wasn’t going to go well, and he needed to bail.

“Yes.” Cas lifted his phone up to face Dean, so that Dean could read their conversation on the screen. Dean glanced over it. It was strange seeing his own words on the left side of the screen, almost embarrassing. “What does this mean?” Cas asked.

Dean got to his feet, feeling too low down still in his chair.

“Uh…” He watched Cas warily, while trying to keep his tone light. “You tell me, Cas.”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “You asked me if I really wanted to go on a date.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Cas stared at him, clearly expecting more. Dean tried waiting him out for a few seconds in silence, hoping Cas would say something else, but Cas had that determined look in his eye that told Dean he was going to have to be the one to say something.

“What about it?” Dean said.

“What does the question mean?” Cas asked.

“Well, Cas, it’s kind of all right there. In the message.”

“You just asked if I really want to go on a date,” Cas said again.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “So, do you?”

It was all wrong. His tone was all wrong. It was aggressive, and blunt. He sounded outright angry at the idea that Cas might actually want to go on a date, and that tone didn’t even vaguely map over the ridiculous leap in his chest at the idea of a date together.

But somehow, Cas’ shoulders were dropping, and his face was relaxing, as though – as though that was what he’d been expecting to hear. Or even what he’d been hoping to hear.

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean felt his mouth fall slightly open and his eyes go wide, and he looked away.

He could feel his breath suddenly coming a little short. He tried to stand very still and be very quiet so that Cas wouldn’t see what that one-word answer had meant. How much it had shaken Dean.

It was only when he heard the yes that he realised just how little he’d expected to ever hear it.

Cas wanted to date. The hot rush in Dean’s chest was back, and the accompanying punch of guilt readied itself… but held back. Because Cas had said yes.

He’d said yes.

“Is that a surprise?” Cas said, his tone dry but not unkind. Dean swallowed, and managed a smile when he looked back over.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Oh.” Cas looked confused. “But… I told you…”

“I know.” Dean shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d wanna do any of that crap, though. Human stuff.”

He saw something clear on Cas’ face, as though something that had been weighing on him had suddenly been lifted.

“Ah,” he said. “Well… I do. Want to.”

Dean nodded, once, a little sharply. God, he had no idea how to do this. And it didn’t help that he could feel things moving inside him, shifting, like walls crumbling, like stuff he’d smothered finally elbowing its way up to be felt – a blazing feeling, a hurting feeling, a wanting. Somehow both familiar and terrifying.

“Okay,” Dean managed aloud.

“As long as you still want to,” Cas said.

Still? Had Dean ever actually told Cas that he wanted to go on a date? Maybe he’d just been that obvious. Or maybe Cas had actually been able to guess what Dean wanted from the way Dean had said me too, Cas, even though Dean hadn’t been able to guess what Cas wanted in spite of literally being told I love you.

“Do you?” Cas asked, when Dean was silent for a second too long.

That wanting feeling, that hot tense ache that almost had Dean’s teeth gritting against it at this point, it was demanding a yes. It was saying go, go over there, what are you waiting for now? But Dean swallowed it. He couldn’t just have that. He couldn’t. Could he?

“Well,” he said. “I dunno. I mean. We are kinda old for it. Aren’t we?”

Dean watched Castiel consider it, his heart thudding.

“I’m fairly old,” Castiel said, “yes. But I think I’m still allowed to try new things.”

“New things,” Dean echoed.

“Yes.”

“Like… dating.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “If you want to.”

“And like…” Dean went to say something else, and then stipped himself. Too many things all rushing to the front at once. Too many possibilities. Too many things that he’d given up thinking he could ever have. Too many things he’d told himself it was right that he didn’t have, because it’d be embarrassing if he did.

But now, here was Castiel, standing in front of him and saying he wanted to go on a date. Watching Dean quietly, waiting for him to finish what he’d started to say.

“Like…” Dean said, and then stopped again, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cas. I’m not… you know.”

“You don’t want to?” Castiel said, the question spoken so neutrally that Dean knew it came with effort – Castiel’s muscles had to be heaving with holding that door open for Dean to leave through, if he wanted. But Castiel was still holding the door. Still saying, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

“No, I – yeah. I mean, I – yeah, I want to,” Dean said, saying the last part to the floor. His chest felt as though it was going to crack open. He wanted walk around the table between him and Cas, and drop to his knees, and just ask Cas with his eyes to touch him, anywhere, anyhow, gentle or not. “Just… I mean, look at us. Are we really gonna fit with any of that crap?”

He couldn’t imagine them trying to do the usual sweet romantic stuff. Dates and gifts and cards and flowers. So stupid after everything they’d been through, like sticking heart-shaped bows on the muzzles of two rusting guns.

“What kind of crap?” Castiel asked.

“You know. The whole schtick. Lovey-dovey crap.” Dean mumbled it, aware that even in describing it he sounded ridiculous. Lovey-dovey? Christ.

“I thought we could just try things out,” Castiel said. “And see if we can do them our way.”

“But what if it doesn’t work,” Dean said, making an attempt not to sound too wretched. He watched Castiel, waiting for him to give up, to say this was already too much work, that it wasn’t worth it, and they should just carry on going as they had been.

“Then we try something else,” Castiel said.

“Right,” Dean said, with an almost-laugh. “And we just do that over and over, huh.”

“If you’d like.”

“You’d seriously be okay with just keeping on trying forever?” He said it as if it were a joke.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Of course.”

Dean went quiet. The expanse of the table between them was far, much too far. He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.

Cas saying that he’d keep trying forever was absurd. What was even more absurd was that Dean actually believed him. Cas had that look on his face, the one that allowed no argument, not angry or proud, just – sure. Certain.

If nothing they did together felt right, Cas would stick by him and keep trying new things. Forever.

Dean felt a part of himself breathe out, and with it went the last of the wall. Now Dean was immolating, standing still in the library of the bunker, just burning and burning with wanting to be touched by Cas, and –

As Dean watched, Cas’ jaw was tightening, as though he too were holding himself back against what he needed.

They stared at each other over the table. You first, Dean begged him silently. Please, just come here, just come here.

Cas’ blue eyes were locked with his, trying to say something Dean couldn’t hear.

“Cas,” Dean said, into the silence.

Cas watched him, waiting.

Dean’s mind was a blank. He didn’t know how to take this feeling, this all-encompassing burning wanting yearning feeling, and turn it into words. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted without accidentally putting it out of his own reach in the asking. He didn’t know how to want in the way that received, only in the way that was hopeless.

And Cas only looked at him and waited.

Dean opened his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said. Cas’ expression flickered, but he didn’t move. “I – you – Cas, Jesus, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Dean said quickly, immediately.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“Yeah. I mean…” Dean swallowed. “No.”

Now Cas looked confused.

“Do you want me to…” Cas paused, puzzling it out. Dean watched him thinking, if I shouldn’t go, and I shouldn’t stay, then…?

“Cas,” Dean said, “come here.”

Cas blinked, and Dean watched the slope of his shoulders change, watched the way Cas’ eyes lightened with a sudden hope. He watched Cas take a step around the table, and then another, slowly, as though afraid to scare Dean off.

Dean couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. His hands were too big. He’d just asked Cas to come to him, and Cas was coming to him.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean moved, quickly, decisively, making for Cas as Cas came towards him, needing to be close and needing it now, and then – and then they were in front of each other in the bunker library, they were right in front of each other, standing with their hands by their sides and looking at each other. And all Dean could think as he looked at Cas was,

This is so heavy, it’s too much, it means too much.

And all Dean’s furiously thudding heart wanted was touch, anyway, no matter what it meant.

Cas reached up a hand, and gently – so gently – put it against Dean’s cheek.

Dean held his head up for a long moment, trying to keep himself together, keep it all in, be still, be silent. He gritted his teeth against the feeling in his chest, against the blazing of his happiness –

And then, he let go.

He closed his eyes, and breathed out. And leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” he heard Cas say.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I love you,” Cas said again, more determinedly, and Dean felt Cas’ forehead press to his own.

The touch of him was better than absolution. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Dean could feel the love of it running through him, easing the rusted gritty parts of him that had thought all this beyond him, and he wanted to gasp through the feeling of it like he was swimming through cold water. If he’d tried ten minutes ago to imagine Cas saying I love you to him again, Dean would have imagined it so sweet and unlike them. But this, this was happening. Cas’ forehead against Dean’s. Cas’ voice saying those words, I love you. And it felt real.

It felt like him, Dean, and it felt like Cas. This was who they were. This was how they loved each other.

“Me too,” Dean said. “Me too, Cas.”

He leaned forwards, and kissed Cas.

They didn’t go to the bar, in the end. They found they had enough to do without going out.

–––––

Dean

The next morning, in the kitchen, Dean turned to Cas and said casually,

“By the way, you never actually said. Are you up to date with the new research on the artifact? We should probably still try to find the damn thing.”

“Am I up to…”

Dean watched as Cas’ expression changed. It went from slight confusion, to sudden horror – and finally settled on a kind of dry acceptance.

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas came to stand by Dean, and because he could, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him again. His heart raced as he did it. Cas kissed him back, and Dean felt as though gravity probably shouldn’t be holding him down at this point.

“I, um,” Cas said. “When you texted me yesterday… I thought when you asked me that, you were asking me on a date.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch up – and then he pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh. Cas tilted his head to one side.

“Don’t,” Cas said.

“I wouldn’t,” Dean said.

“Dean…”

“I’ll never mention it again.”

“I thought…” Cas closed his eyes, his head dropping as he smiled again at his own misunderstanding, and Dean let himself laugh. He reached out and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, still a little tentative, still feeling his heart sing with the ability to touch. Cas leaned in, their bodies swaying together slightly.

“I love you,” Dean said, the words flowing up out of him like water from a spring, so easily, so naturally. He felt the immediate seize of panic afterwards, hearing those three words said in his own voice, out of his own mouth – but he couldn’t regret them, not when he saw Cas’ head lean back again, his blue eyes glowing with happiness.

“I love you,” Cas answered him. “I love you.”

[bi-bard]

You Should’ve Known Better - Castiel Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: You Should Know Better

Pairing: Castiel X Reader

Requested: By @zizzlekwum

Word Count: 922 words

Warning(s): kidnapping, torture

Summary: (Season 13) It was meant to save Dean. However, Castiel doesn't take (Y/n)'s attempted sacrifice very well.

Author's Note: How do I explain that The Blacklist requests were a break from Supernatural, not the other way around, haha! (I love both of these shows but I have been writing about them both so much)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I stopped in the middle of Dean and me running for our lives.

"What are you doing," he asked.

"Go," I shouted. "I'll distract the angels, give you time to get home."

"(Y/n)-"

"Dean, it wasn't a suggestion," I snapped. He stared at me for a few moments. "Please... go!"

Dean finally turned around and ran from me. I took off in the other direction. I heard the pounding of feet behind me, meaning that my plan had worked.

I didn't even get the chance to be proud of myself before I grabbed and promptly knocked out. All I could do was hope that Dean had gotten out.

--time skip--

I came to while tied to a chair. I shook my head, trying to stop the headache that was already forming. Someone called out the door.

It slammed open and a man walked in.

"Cas," I asked, immediately recognizing him.

"You know me then," I cringed when I heard a heavy German accent roll off of his tongue. "Maybe that will make you more inclined to answer my questions."

I don't know how long I spent tied to that chair. The alternate Cas would punch me, ask me the same question, and then repeat the process when I didn't answer.

I just sat there and bit my tongue, knowing better than to give one of Michael's soldiers any information.

I was curled in my seat, my entire body aching from the constant violence, when the door was slammed open. I turned my head, watching alternate Cas's soldiers fall one by one.

By the time my eyes adjusted, my Cas was standing there with alternate Cas slammed against the wall.

"Two of us," the alternate Cas said. "Interesting."

"Not for long," my Cas sneered in response before stabbing the other Cas with his angel blade.

I watched alternate Cas's body fall to the ground.

My Cas walked over, kneeling by the chair and helping me out of the restraints.

"Cas," I asked softly.

"I'm here," he promised.

"Why did you do that," I asked. "I did this to save Dean. Why would you come back?"

"Did you think I was going to let you throw yourself into the pit," he furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"To save you and the boys... I thought you'd respect my wishes," I mumbled.

Cas grinned at me, "You should know better."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him for a moment as he looked back down at what he was doing.

He undid the final restraint before helping me up. I almost collapsed in pain. I was going to mumble an apology but he stopped me. He placed two fingers on my forehead. I smiled as I felt myself heal.

"Thanks," I muttered. He just smiled.

We ran back to the door to the bunker, happily leaving the alternate world for now.

The door shut behind us. We had made it just in time. Dean and Sam stared at us.

"I shouldn't have left-"

"Shut up," I interrupted Dean, hugging him tightly. "I asked you to leave."

Sam stood behind his brother, waiting for me to step back and hug him. Our hug was shorter but it still made me smile.

"Will you guys give us a minute," I asked them. I looked over at Cas for a moment.

They both nodded with knowing smiles on their face. I furrowed my eyebrows at them for a moment as they walked out of the library.

I moved to sit on top of the table in the library. Cas stood opposite me.

"Thank you," I said. "I don't remember if I said that earlier."

Cas grinned. It was really nice to see him smile. It almost always made me smile back at him.

"Can I ask you something," I asked. He nodded. "When you were untying me, you said I should've known better than for you to respect my sacrifice. Why? You've let Dean and Sam do it. You've sacrificed yourself... you literally just got back from the Empty."

"Because I care about you," Cas replied.

"And you care about Sam and Dean," I argued, pushing for a real answer. "As far as you should've been concerned, I was already dead. Why risk it?"

"(Y/n)...," he trailed off.

"Please," I begged. "Just answer me."

Cas walked over and touched the table on either side of me. I just watched him. Each step and each movement. My breath felt like it was going to stop when his hands touched the table.

"Cas," I said softly. He took a deep breath, finally meeting my eyes. I offered a small, slightly awkward grin.

"You're different," he explained quietly. I was studying his face as he spoke. "I... I love you."

I let out a shocked chuckle, smiling at him.

He was about to move back but I grabbed the edges of his trenchcoat and pulled him into a kiss. He adjusted quickly, his hands moving to my waist as I moved my arms to wrap around his waist.

The kiss had a hard hit due to how I pulled Cas in but after that it was soft. Careful. It made my heart flutter and my stomach do flips. I pulled back just barely, pecking his lips once more before resting my forehead on his.

"Wow," I whispered after a moment. Cas chuckled. I punched his shoulder lightly as I chuckled with him. "Shut up."

"No, no, I agree with you," he promised. "Definitely a 'wow'."

It was better than "wow", it was perfect.

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

Masterlist

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[l-r-christian]

Title: Tied: The Huntress and The Original part two

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Winchester!Reader

Warnings: Y/N stabbing more things, Fluff, makeout

Summary: Y/N is trapped with the father of her future child as at first Y/N didn't want to give in to Elijah but the vampire is becoming more and more harder to resist. Elijah already adores Y/N and protective of her as he finds it hard to not be close to her.

Tags: @jjrp-obsessed67 - @elijahmikaelson33 - @just-another-writer-17 - @rere-the-writer

Part one - part three

Y/N was more and more surprised with just how much the demons planned everything as she explored the catacombs with Elijah who stayed close to her. They found a bedroom, it was every nice as it had a large bed with a bath attached.

Y/N dug through the dresser seeing it was was full of clothes and lingerie that would fit her as Elijah found they had gotten him suits which he was happy to be out of bloody clothes.

"It seems they planned to keep us here until I had the baby." Y/N said turning swallowing seeing Elijah stepping out of the bathroom rolling up his sleeves happy to be out of his bloody clothes. Y/N couldn't help but stare at his arms then hands catching the vampire's attention. Smirking Elijah reached for her but Y/N ducked out of his arms.

"We should relax as I'm sure the magic keeping us here should be gone by morning. Then we can figure it out in the morning." Elijah says looking up from the bed to see Y/N in a short nightie that only stopped mid thigh. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up seeing Elijah licking his bottom lip.

"Night big guy." Y/N said climbing into the bed and Elijah followed behind her. Elijah traced her curves listening to the huntress trying to sleep when she huffed rolling over and kissing the vampire who responded right away. Elijah rolled them over hiking her legs over his hips growling when she nipped at his bottom lip as the kiss got more hungry. Y/N moaned opening Elijah's shirt as he attacked her neck with bites and nips.

"You're just divine, my dear." Elijah said against her neck making her choke on a moan when he grinded his hips just right against hers. Y/N pulled Elijah into another heated kiss when Elijah stopped hushing her gently. Y/N blinked when Elijah got off of her listening for something and her hunter instincts kicked in.

Y/N dressed quickly grabbing her blade twirling it as she followed Elijah out seeing it was demons with a black woman. It happen quickly the demons attacked her as Elijah grabbed the woman by the thoat.

"Celeste, I am surprised to see you here." Elijah growled as the witch smirked as her eyes flickered over to Y/N who stood there panting. Y/N was ready for anything as she watched the witch.

"Came to see your future dead lover." Celeste said snapping her fingers and vampires came in attacking Y/N and she was quick to fight back as Elijah growled squeezed Celeste's thoat.

"What is your game Celeste?"

"The barrier is down....who would you choose? You beloved huntress .....or your family?" Celeste questioned when Elijah growled deeply squeezing her neck harder as panic came across Celeste's face when Elijah leaned close to her ear.

"Better hope my siblings will not find you as I am not the only one who would bring your end." Elijah said lowly as Celeste moved her hand making him let her go as he held his head while Celeste moved away. She watched Elijah fall to his knees making her smirk.

"She'll die by your hand Elijah or your family will." Celeste said leaving as Elijah panted growling tearing though a vampire that bit Y/N. She squeaked when Elijah pulled her close licking her blood from the bite then healed her.

"I'm okay Elijah." Y/N whispered feeling him buried his face in her neck as both of was already strongly bonded. The sound of fluttering wings reached their ears and Elijah pushed her behind him.

"Sugarplum! You're okay!"

"Gabriel?!" Y/N said moving around Elijah running hugging the Archangel who grinned hugging her tightly. While a flare of jealousy ran through Elijah as he watched Y/N with the angel.

"You okay?"

"Yeah found future baby daddy." Y/N said as Gabriel laughed looking at Elijah aware of what he was.

"Gabe where are we?"

"About a three day drive away from New Orleans." Gabriel answered Y/N making the woman frown cursing in Enochian walking out of the tomb. Elijah followed after his pissed off huntress seeing that they were in an century old cemetery. Y/N huffed annoyed leaning back against Elijah when she felt him behind her.

"Looks like we are going to be stuck in a car for while." Y/N said looking up at Elijah as he smiled leaning down kissing her forehead.

"I don't mind, beautiful." Elijah tells her watching her flushed brightly as he reached for her hand. Gabriel had gotten Y/N's truck and as she rolled her eyes seeing Gabriel pout when Elijah claimed the passenger seat.

"Where is Sam and Dean?" Y/N asked driving letting Elijah place his hand on her leg while Gabriel layed in her back seat.

"In Mystic Falls where you last hunt was now headed for New Orleans as the Mikaelsons are waging war looking for Elijah."

"Nice to know."

"Y/N, you're alive." Y/N heard Castiel say popping up in the back seat of her truck making her scream nearly driving off the the road as Elijah gripped the wheel. The truck came to a screeching halt as Y/N panted hand over her chest closing her eyes as Elijah gently took her hand rubbing it.

"Cas! We talked about this!"

"I apologize Y/N. But I heard you so I came as soon as I could." Castiel says as Y/N sighed starting to drive again. An hour into driving Y/N looked into the rear view mirror noticing a car following them.

"Cas? Does the Men of Letters know about the baby thing?" You asked keeping an eye on the car as Elijah raised an eyebrow as Gabriel sat up looking out the back window.

"They do. They had told Sam and Dean about the prophecy which is why they are looking for you."

"Darling?"

"The car following us happens to be my annoying ex, Arthur Ketch." Y/N said picking up speed as Gabriel smirked.

"If I didn't know any better, Suga you have a type."

"Now isn't the time Gabriel." Y/N growled out driving faster as her phone rang which she answered it putting it on speaker.

"Darling, pull over."

"No, go fuck yourself Ketch." Y/N said turning quickly down a back road as Ketch stopped on the road. Elijah felt many feelings fill him while he knew Y/N would have past lovers but the idea one of them was still around her made him feel possessive.

"Do you think I'll follow you down some back road? Let alone have you bare another man's child?"

"First off fuck you again and second yes because you would never allow dirt to touch that dumb car of yours. And thirdly Elijah is a real gentlemen unlike you a lying, backstabbing asshole who leaves his ex-girlfriend's baby brothers to almost be killed by some KFC looking asshole."

Gabriel snorted a laugh as Elijah was confused but felt his heart flutter when she said his name. Castiel kept watch seeing no one following them as Y/N drove.

"To be fair love, they said they could handle it."

"Sam and Dean....mostly Dean are morons never let them take care of a big bag by themselves. Also if you are getting on this macho man kick about this baby thing I am every sure you ain't it."

"You never know my beloved. An Original as dangerous as Elijah Mikaelson, no go....." Y/N cut Ketch off by hanging up then threw the phone out of the truck glaring. Elijah placed his hand on her thigh when both Angels left leaving Y/N and Elijah alone.

"I take it you and this Ketch fellow didn't end well?"

"No. It didn't." Y/N said noticing how dark it was then pulled off the road. Elijah raised an eyebrow as Y/N made sure the truck was hidden then got out.

"Lucky for you. The truck bed is close in."

"Camping are we?" Elijah teased helping her pull out pillows and blankets. Y/N open the back and flopped down on the mat and pillows as Elijah followed after her. Y/N closed the tailgate kicking off her shoes with Elijah also getting comfortable.

"We should get you back to New Orleans fr...." Y/N was cut off by Elijah kissing her and pulling her into his lap as the kiss got more hungry. Y/N pulled away taking her shirt off and Elijah attacked her neck with bites.

"Elijah.....we...shou....." Y/N stopped thinking as her mind turned to mush when Elijah pulled her closer by her hips grinding against her while he moved his mouth long her pulse point smirking.

"I think we can love. It is just the two of us no one around for miles." Elijah said smooth tempting Y/N to give into him. Elijah groaned when she kissed him roughly as she gave in to the vampire for the night.

[magnolialex]

the light behind your eyes

dean/castiel – ~ 4.4k words

It was a simple hunt, just a vampire nest. It's nothing they haven't done in the past fifteen fucking years. They fought literal God and won, and this? This is what kills him? This is what takes him in? No, absolutely not. He refuses. But when he feels the rebar pierce through right below his sternum, he thinks: this is it. He tries to reach for it; tries to feel where, what it hit, with his hand. There's blood, so red, and he lets his fingers feel it. Deep breaths, he thinks. Didn't hit the lungs, it seems. There's no blood from the mouth. Organs should be fine, then. Nothing too life-threatening. Though if they didn't get him to a hospital stat, possibly that too.

"Sammy," he chokes on a sob. "Sam, you have to call 9-1-1." He looks at his brother, the machete still clasped in his right hand. Sam nods then; the clatter of the blade falling to the ground startling a little in the quiet of the barn. Frantic hands covered in blood trying to unlock the phone. He takes a deep breath as the phone rings.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Something catches Sam's eye. Someone is walking towards them slowly.

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Umm. My brother, he—" The phone slips from his hand and falls to the ground when Sam recognizes the figure walking over. "Cas?"

Dean thinks he's hallucinating. Or dead, yeah, dead sounds more like it, he definitely must be dead already. This, this can't be happening. There's no way that's Cas who's coming straight for him. He saw him die. He saw it. He fucking saw it. Yeah, yeah, okay, the pain is getting worse, Cas must be pulling him from the rebar or something, but he can only concentrate on Cas' firm grip on his arms. "This is going to hurt a bit," Cas whispers. A bit?, Dean thinks a little stupid. His vision is whitening and blurring, when he feels a soft finger brushing against his temple, and oh, oh, the pain is subsiding. Fucking awesome.

"You…"

He sees more than hears Sam picking up his phone and explaining—or lying—to the dispatcher in his peripherals. Sam must have hung up, because he's reluctantly shoving his phone back in his phone.

"Hello, Dean." There's a soft smile, playing only around his mouth, the Angel's face otherwise serious. Dean gasps, the familiarity of Cas' voice making his heart clench.

"I saw you die," Dean grits out reluctantly. He doesn't want it to sound as heartbroken as it does. He wants to be pissed off, he wants to be angry, but really, all he feels is relief.

"Well," Cas scratches the back of his neck, then lowers his gaze to ook at his feet. "I was. Dead, I mean. When... After you all defeated Chuck, Jack brought me back." Cas straightens his posture, and looks back up at Dean. "We have been work—"

"He brought you back?" Dean interrupts incredulously, his voice loud, a little shaky. He takes a step closer to Cas, staring at him. His lips, his eyes, the way his shoulder are hunched a little. It's all Cas. "He…" Dean clears his throat. "Sorry, did I hear that right? He brought you back? And what, you didn't think to, I dunno, let us know?" Dean feels his anger take over and stabs a finger against Cas' chest. "I watched you die, for fuck's sake. I watched you be taken by the Empty, black goo swallowing you alive, and you didn't even think to tell me you're okay? What, even after you told me—after you—" Dean huffs and turns away, doesn't want Cas to see the hurt in his eyes take over. Cas knows Dean's anger, knows it so well, he's used to it. But his hurt? That's his, alone, and he doesn't need Cas to know it.

Cas puts a hand on Dean's shoulder. It's a good-willed gesture, Dean is sure, but he's pulling away the moment he senses the touch, can't stand the familiarity of it. "Don't you fucking touch me right now," he hisses and Castiel gnaws at his lower lip, his arm still hanging mid-air where he wanted to hold Dean.

"Sam, hey," he tries to get Sam's attention, who is still just staring at Cas like he's seen a ghost (which, hilarious, he's seen so many ghosts and he's never looked at them like that), "could you wait in the car?" He doesn't want Sam to see this. He doesn't want Sam to know. Sam knows the basic, and that's more than enough. Dean pulls Baby's keys from his pockets, tosses them to Sam. Should've become a fucking baseball catcher or something, the way he just catches them easily. He leaves without another word.

"I helped Jack," Cas states. Simple. A fact. Dean knows it's more than that, though. It's an argument. it's an excuse; an explanation for why he couldn't be down here, but Dean doesn't want to listen to it.

He feels thrown back to that Godawful day. It's still there, hovering over him, and it still takes his breath away. Cas had looked so happy, and so content. Dean still thinks it didn't even matter to Cas that he had to leave him behind. Like it was okay to die. And it was, for Castiel. It was okay for him to die that day, because it was for Dean, he knows that much now. For Dean, Cas was gone, and nothing else mattered anymore. His heart's racing, cold sweat pooling at his hairline. Breathe, he thinks. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He repeats it, five times exactly, in through the nose, out through the mouth, for good measure. Finally, he looks up to where Cas is still standing still.

"Cas, you told me that you loved me. You told me your true happiness was telling me, no, was just saying that you loved me." Dean shakes his head, thumb and trigger finger pulling at his upper lip.

"Yes, Dean, yes. I remember."

read the rest on ao3

[creativeashproductions]

What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. It’s all fun and games until someone’s holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess it’s just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)

A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.

Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.

“Okay, this is our last scene for the day!” Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.

Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.

“I gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briar’s traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.” Robert explained, “Cas couldn’t find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executioner’s Song.”

Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.

“Action!”

Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Sam’s heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.

Dean’s mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.

“Briar.” Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Dean’s hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.

“I-I didn’t mean to do it.” The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briar’s knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Dean’s arms.

The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.

“Dad.” Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adult’s shoulders, craving the safety of her father.

Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didn’t want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his child’s dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.

Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.

“Sh.” Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, “I’ll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. We’ll heat some soup and toast.”

On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Sam’s side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.

“Dean. Sam.” Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.

“Cas what the hell happened?” Dean demanded, “Why the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?”

END FILMING SCENE

“Cut!” Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, “I’ll watch it back. See if we need more takes.”

Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wall—a pinched expression marring your young face.

“How are you feeling after that?” Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to have sharp objects.” You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.

 “Jensen, did you really stab another person.” Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.

The glare on Jensen’s face blistered the taller actor, “I didn’t stab you. You walked into the knife.”

The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Sam’s unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.

“We got a one-take winner!” Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.

The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as you’d love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.

“Someone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.” Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.

Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.

“Towels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.” Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.

A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasn’t overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.

“The knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,” Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.

“Might as well call me butter.” You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, “You aren’t allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.”

“Danneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.” The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didn’t hide the guilt in Jensen’s green eyes.

Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.

Julie and the Phantoms Set

Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.

That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.

“Charlie! Did you know you’ve got missed calls?” Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlie’s eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.

Stepping back from the craft table’s supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.

His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, “Megs?”

“Finally! Where have you been?” Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.

“Filming? It’s the longest day of filming the show. It’s on the family schedule.” Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.

“Jesus. Mom called me when you didn’t pick up. Y/N’s in the hospital.” Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.

“What?!” Charlie didn’t mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.

“She got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I haven’t gotten a lot of info.” Meghan told her older brother, “I know she’s getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.”

Charlie couldn’t tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owen’s therapist for his anxiety.

His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlie’s painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.

“Just let me finish this one sentence.” The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, “How can I help you?”

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.” Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadian’s eyes bright with panic and a deep fear

The nurse’s eyes softened, “I can’t give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.”

“I’m here-“

“Husband! He’s her husband, they eloped so she hasn’t changed her last name or updated her information.” Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadn’t even bothered changing into their street clothing.

The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.

“My name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and I’ll do my best to give you answers.” Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.

Owen’s long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”

“My girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I can’t wait for an elevator.” Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owen’s sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.

Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlie’s heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.

The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each other’s co-stars.

“What the hell?” Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, “Did you get mugged? Are you okay?”

“Char, take a breath, man.” Owen’s blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlie’s breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.

“Whoa! Charlie. I’m fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.” Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlie’s hand to comfort him, “I lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.”

“How do you get stabbed accidently?” Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.

“Well, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?” Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jared’s side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.

“I-“Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.

The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.

“Okay Miss Y/L/N.” Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, “I see your entourage grew. I’m Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/N’s husband.”

Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctor’s words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.

“Yeah, my husband.” You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.

“I can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesn’t have anything that shouldn’t be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, we’ll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.”

“Nurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. We’ll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.” Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.

Charlie’s lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.

“I’ll sing anything.” Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, “Oh!”

I’m booking myself a one-way flight

 I gotta see the color in your eyes

 And telling myself I’m gonna be alright

 Without you baby is a waste of time

The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said ‘oh’.

Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed

 It got washed away in a summer rain

 You can’t undo a fall like this

 ’Cause love don’t know what distance is

 Yeah, I know it’s crazy

Charlie’s hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.

“He loves her,” Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kid’s phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.

“I’ve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,” Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.

“As I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.” 

But I don’t want “good”, and I don’t want “good enough.”

 I want “can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love”

 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn’t make sense to anybody else

“Charlie.” You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd setting—his hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.

The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound. 

Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.

Who cares if you’re all I think about,

 I’ve searched the world and I know now,

 It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind.

 Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy

 Are you with me baby? Let’s be crazy

Charlie’s voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. That’s how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.

Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.

“For what?” Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriend’s gaze.

“For dropping everything to be here.” The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.

“My girl-“

“Don’t you mean wife?” You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, you’d been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlie’s things had just accumulated there.

“It was the only way they’d let me in.” Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, “It’s a little early to call you, but I’m excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.”

The chuckle fell from your lips, “So, you want to marry me?”

“In front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.” Charlie spoke, “There’s no one else I’d like by my side for the rest of my life.”

A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.

“How did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?” Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadian’s heart.

“The same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.” Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.

“Seriously how do you get stabbed accidently?” Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.

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[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.