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occult-castiel · 4 years

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The Same Page

This is my @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @eclypseaf!!! The request was open, but bonus points for Miracle being present. So I wrote some post empty rescue fic!

This one honestly gave me a really hard time and I have no idea why. I hope you like it and have has an awesome christmas!

[Ao3 Link]

The portal spits them out in the dungeon.

Dean stumbles out first, a half step ahead of Cas. Human, malleable, and very much alive with one of the little dude's arms draped over Dean's shoulder.

Cas stumbles forward. Dean shoots an arm out in front of him, places a hand firmly against his chest. He maneuvers his other arms under his trenchcoat, grips his side firm.

His skins almost cool to the touch — much too cold to be safe. Not for a human, especially a brand new one.

And what if he's sick? Or gets sick and can't get better? Without his grace, there's a whole new set of worries. A bad flu that gets worse until he's gone, a hunt going wrong, fucking cancer. Heart disease kills pretty much everyone, doesn't it?

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gentle thud of Cas' heart against his palm.

The last eight months haven't been easy. Not between the alcohol Sam eventually cut him off from, and the hunts getting sparse, and Jack being terrifying and gone until he wasn't.

Cas lulls his head to the side. His inky heart sticks to his forehead, and his blueberry-sweet eyes are unfocused but still manage to catch Dean's.

It's achingly familiar, and he smiles easy. "Hey there, sunshine."

Cas pinches his brows together as his head swims to stay upright. He slurs through some half-baked, nonsense question about coral reef bleaching, and Dean's so relieved he laughs.

Cas smiles at the sound, dazed and feather-light, but the joy is unmistakable.

It's the best thing Dean's ever seen. Fuck, he missed him. Missed him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Cas winces — what little help he was giving Dean in holding him up falls. He makes up the difference quick. Weak fingers curl around Dean's wrist.

"Sorry —"

"S'okay. Gonna —" he swallows hard. Tries to shove away the distinct pin-prick in his tear ducts that always means he needs to man the hell up. "Gonna get you to a bed, okay?"

Cas grunts, a pitiful noise that's mostly air and entirely feeble. "Tired."

"Rest then. It ain't far. I gotcha, buddy."

When he nods, his hair brushes Dean's neck.

It's not well thought out. The lack of work and overload of carbs haven't done Dean's muscles any favors. His joints creak and protest every step, but his room isn't far, and he'd be damned before he let's Cas feel like he has to do anything alone this time.

Miracle hops off the bed the moment the door opens.

Dean lays Cas on top of the bunched up blanket. Once he's down, Dean slowly works the trencoast and suit jacket off, his hands careful as they trail across the thin cotton of his shirt.

Cas shivers, and Dean wrestles to tug the blanket out from under him, Miracle nuzzling the side of his leg the whole time.

She's probably hungry. Or just wants attention. He hasn't exactly been available the last couple weeks, too busy with his nose in piles of research. But it all payed off.

Cas grimaces in his sleep, and it twists the cords in Dean's chest. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingers across the sweat-stained hair stuck to his skin, gently pushing it to the side.

He'd said it once, not more than a month ago, in the darkness of his room, Miracle tucked as close as he could get her.

He said he loved me, and I — I didn't say it back. But I do. God I do.

Dean trails his hand from his forehead to the flushed pillow of his cheeks. The other knuckles roughly at his eyes and comes back wet.

He has no god damn idea what he wouldve done without Miracle to talk to. Cause he could never get it out to Sam. Not those last moments. Not what Cas really means to him. Always too close to an edge of something larger than any apocalypse they've ever dealt with.

He traces down low enough to brush across Cas' wrist, the pained look still on his face.

Dean swallows, his heart hammers hard in his throat. Timid even though the guy is unconscious, Dean grabs his hand.

His mind blanks. Turns to complete static — a jumble of half-formed thoughts about every reason he ever told himself not to.

He's an angel. The worlds ending. Always ending. He doesn't feel that way. Can't, the equipment for it's not there. It's why he leaves, isn't it? And what the fuck could ever hope to start when it's all always falling apart? When they could fall apart.

Everyone leaves.

A flash of cold prickles down his back, and he tries to takes a deep breath. It goes down ragged. There was something he read once, about picking out a sense.

Cas' breath, slow and steady. The clink of Mircale's claws on the floor. A muted buzz from the florescent lights in the hall.

He breaths again, a little easier. His fingers curls into Cas' palm, and his finger twitch against Dean in response. The dent in his brows relax, his jaw goes slack.

"S'okay Cas." He squeezes. "Just... be okay."

When his phone rings, dumped and forgotten on the other side of the room, he isn't quite sure how to let go. Like the ligaments in his hand have cemented in place, forgotten the muscle memory to make the movements happen.

When the second call comes through, Cas mumbles something. Dean's shoulder slack, and he pulls his hands back, clammy and with a slight tremor.

It's Sam. There's a small tug of guilt — he should've called him the moment he put Cas down. He knows he would've been worried sick if Sam was the one that had to go.

Sam's relieved too, promises to buy stuff for dinner on his way back from where Dean went in the Empty about fifty miles out. And he must hear something in his voice, because he stresses to go watch a movie or something and let Cas sleep it off.

Of course he's right. They knew Cas would be out cold. But leaving the room is still hard, and he lingers in the doorway until he gets a good look at Miracle's mess of tangled fur.

He hasn't brushed her hair, since that's practically what the fur is, in weeks.

"C'mon girl."

He grabs the brush from the bedside table, casts on last look at Cas, and takes Miracle to the TV room.

She hops on the couch next to him, tail thumping with excitement.

"You wanna get pretty to meet Cas later?"

She nuzzles his hand, sticks her nose against the brush, and a little bit of the stress from today lightens up.

He flips on some netflix show about baking food, and talks to Miracle as he starts in on her snout.

It's ritualistic to touch on whatevers going on with her, at this point.

As her fur smooths, he tells her about the Empty. Its piss-poor lighting, the mind boggling way directions work, how it has this awful burnt-licorice and gasoline stench clung to the nothingness of its everything.

It kinda makes his head hurt.

Almost two full episodes in, he has all her fur neat and tidy, and his little monologue has circled back to Cas. She'd know a lot about him if she could talk.

"It's hard to believe he's really back. And — and maybe it'll be good. We could, I dunno, get you a yard?" He nods, smiles. "Yeah, I bet your spoiled ass would like that. The bunker ain't a place for pets."

Miracle leaps from the couch, and someone clears their throat from the door.

Cas stands in the doorway, hunched in on himself. Dark strands of hair twist up in random directions, and the casual clothes Dean left him fit snugly.

He looks... comfortable. Like he slipped into humanity ages ago, not this afternoon.

"Cas."

He tilts his lips up, tight and sheepish. "I see you have a dog now."

"Yeah. Miracle. She uh — she helped me." He motions vaguely to his head. "Might not be batting a hundred up here if not for her."

Cas glances down at her, and the tense smile softens. "I'm very grateful then."

Almost reverent, he scratches the side of her ear.

Dean shakes his head. Blinks. Two things he never thought he'd see side by side mixed with the insanity of the day make none of this seem real.

Deep breath.

"She can — she can be there for you too," Dean says. "If you need it. Dogs are great listeners. Even the Madonna types like this one."

Cas gives a contemplative hum. "They are both blonde."

He puffs a breath of air. It's easy to forget Cas actually knows what he's talking about now, sometimes. Even if he does still miss the point by a mile.

"It was your turn."

Cas raises an eyebrow.

"To, uh, pick a movie." He motions to the seat next to him. "If you want."

Cas runs his bottom lip between his teeth and doesn't look at Dean. Doesn't say anything either. Just nods, walks over, and sinks into the couch.

It's a respectable distance. Close enough Dean would be able to sense him, far enough away they won't touch.

Miracle curls up on the other side of Cas, head flopped on his lap, right next to his balled up hands.

"Is it over?" His voice is small.

Dean doesn't have to ask. "Chuck isn't aproblem anymore." Cas sighs, slinks down bonelessly into the cushions. "We figured it out, took his powers. Jack's fixing up Heaven with it. Says he's gunna do that, find a way to put Amara back together, and then come home."

"Good. I don't think I'm up to fighting standards." He rolls his head to the side. They're close enough Dean can make out each muscle in his neck when he swallows. "You didn't have to save me, Dean. I'd — made peace with that fate."

It's bullshit. It's bullshit and Cas has to know it. He almost tells him a much, but if he can't have that talk now, then he never will.

He licks his lips. It doesn't help the dryness.

"Did you mean it?"

It's a dumb question, but one he needs answered.

Cas doesn't miss a beat. "That and more." The serenity in his words is endearing as it is cutting when he adds, "But we don't have to address it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

It's Dean's turn to melt with relief. "Good — that's good."

Cas winces. "I understand if you'd like some space —"

He starts to stand up, and panic seizes Dean's chest like a vice grip. He grabs his wrist and Cas freezes.

"No! God no. Cas, it — it wasn't supposed to happen like that."

He looks confused, before some amount of understanding smoothes out some of the worried lines in his face. His eyes flick down to Dean's mouth for an instant. "How was it supposed to happen, then?"

"I thought, maybe on a hunt? Or — I don't know. Just... " some place I could say it back.

Its not good enough, saying it without saying it. Cas gave a speech. He saved Dean's life, saved the god damn world. All without knowing.

He shakes his head. Starts again. He had enough practice between thoughts he couldn't shove away and late night pet-therapy. "I thought you knew. Hell, I've been scared everyone knows. And if they did, you did too, right?"

"Subtly isn't always my strongest suit."

He laughs, and it's almost on the wrong side of sane. "Don't I know it."

He can do direct.

Slow enough that Cas has time to pull back, he runs his hand up his arm, cradles it against the back of Cas' neck. He leans across the small distance and kisses him.

It's clumsy and unsure, and Cas places a skittish hand on Dean's side like he's not sure what he's allowed to have even now, but their lips mesh together in a way that feels better than anything he can remember.

When they part, he's not sure either one of them are breathing. And he can't look at Cas, not when he says it. Not yet. So he presses their foreheads together, keeps his eyes fully lidded.

"I don't know how you could think you aren't worth saving. You — you're it for me."

"Dean —"

He shakes his head, and the tips of their noses brush. "I love you more than I know what to do with. You know that right?"

Bewildered, Cas says, "I didn't."

"Yean, well. Now you do."

He scoots back in place, flushed firm against the cushion. Their hands tangle together, and their knees are touching, and it's too much and not enough. But mostly not enough. Dean dares a glance over. Cas is staring at their hands, a pleased smile on his face.

And they're on the same page.

"I think you said something about a yard when I walked in?"

Instead of answering he says, "We should retire. I'm too old for this shit."

"Entirely?"

Dean shrugs. "A hunt here and there wouldn't hurt I guess."

"We'll talk about it later." He reaches over him, grabs the remote. "I think you said it was my turn?"

Dean grins, full and toothy. "Yeah, just no more romcoms, dude. I can only take so many."

Cas nods, curt and serious. "Of course."

He does anyway, and it's the best shitty movie Dean's ever seen.

#destiel secret santa #sorry this is being posted so late in the day!!!#my internets broken at the moment so it was very difficult to get it up #and i also couldnt run it through any spelling/grammer checkers #hopefully theres nothing atrociously wrong with it #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years

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Dreams, Chapter 12

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 12

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2369

Summary: Finally starting to talk about the dreams encourages Sam to start trusting himself.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

In an ideal world, you would’ve been patient enough to let Sam bring it up next. But adding the layer of possibility of seeing Dean, really Dean, again, opening some channel to talk to him in your dreams, was sending you into a spiral that ironically was preventing you from sleeping.

You lasted a few weeks before waking up on a morning of early spring melt and waiting for Sam at the breakfast bar with your now-prized notebook. He came out of the bedroom as you were cutting a grapefruit for him and you passed over a cup of coffee.

“You seem, uh, chipper.” He was still blinking slowly like he always did for the first few minutes after waking up, fingers wrapping nearly all the way around the ceramic and bypassing the handle.

Waiting until he sat down on one of the stools and smiling at how short it looked compared to his legs, you put a bowl of yogurt and granola in front of him next to the fruit. Cheap bribery, but you were willing to try anything you had. “I’m hoping maybe we can, um, try to figure this out. I thought if we could make kind of a timeline then maybe we could—” you stammered, having run through this script in your head and still feeling your heart ram against your ribs as you watched for Sam’s reaction. He set the mug down and rubbed his face before resting his head in his hands.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean, yeah. I’ve been—I don’t know, I’ve just—”

“Sam, you don’t have to explain anything.”

His mouth tightened into a firm line and you could see his jaw flex before he picked up a spoon and started stirring the granola into his yogurt. “Where do you want to start?”

You’d had a small variety of dreams where Dean narrowly avoided death, but you and Sam decided the best place to start would be the dreams that were explicitly good. That left:

Sam hadn’t immediately offered what his dreams with Dean were about, and when you sensed that moment of hesitation you didn’t push. That privacy was the least you could give him, already feeling guilty at prying into his thoughts as much as you were.

“Well, what about those days? Did anything different happen on the days you had those dreams?” you asked, trying to change tack.

He raised his eyebrows and considered it for a minute. “The first time was obviously the, uh, the cupcakes.”

Remembering it made you smile a little to yourself and you wrote it down in the notebook. “And the next?”

“Uh, that Thursday.”

“Right, but what happened that day?”

Sam bit the inside of his lip. “Nothing, really.”

“Okay, well work sucked, that’s for sure. Maybe that was it, that you were more tired? Remember I fell asleep on the couch while you were in the shower?”

“If you weren’t covered in grenadine I would’ve left you there.”

“Can you imagine how sticky and gross I would’ve been in the morning? So work was shitty, I fell asleep on the couch, what else—”

“You folded my laundry for me.”

“What?”

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “You, uh, you folded my laundry for me.”

“I always fold laundry.”

“No—not the laundry, my laundry. I forgot a bunch of my stuff in the dryer and you folded it while I was in the shower.”

“I really doubt me folding th—”

“We talked about it in the dream, it was the laundry.” Before you could pry, he took a big gulp of coffee. “So where does that put us?”

“Wait, I’m still on the laundry.”

“It was…I don’t know, it was just really nice. It felt like a really nice, normal thing. And it’s not—I mean, who cares, it was just laundry, about the lowest stakes favor there’s ever been in our lives, but it kind of hit me how far we’d come and it made me realize I’d fold your laundry too, you know? The big stuff we’ve already proven, right? But it’s little stuff like folding the laundry, that day-in, day-out, I’m-thinking-about-you—”

“Gummy worms,” you murmured.

“What?”

“I feel like that when you buy me gummy worms. Maybe you’re just doing that because Dean did or whatever, but there’s something about those extra things that add up. I get it.”

“I—yeah.” Sam gulped.

You started writing.

Spinning the notebook back toward him, you let Sam read and didn’t say anything for a long minute past when he was sure to have finished, even getting up to refill your coffee cups while he thought. You came back to the counter and wrapped your fingers around the warm mug, unwilling to be the first one to speak.

Sam’s jaw tightened around nothing and he nodded slightly without looking up, vision trained on a blank spot of counter next to his bowl. When he finally tilted and met your eyes, his were so big and shiny, so Precious Moments that you almost would’ve laughed, almost would’ve smacked his shoulder and told him to stop manipulating you with those Victim’s Family Puppy Dog Eyes. But they were genuine and unmoving, electric with emotion in the morning light. You traced the angle of his jaw and slipped a fallen piece of hair behind his ear before steadying your palm on the back of his neck, hair warming your fingertips as you met his eyes, leaning an inch or two closer to Sam’s face and then he glanced down at your lips. He didn’t move at all as you slowly, carefully closed the distance between you until at the last second Sam wrapped his fingers around your wrist where it grazed his throat and turned into it, pressing his lips to the now-thrumming pulse there for an extended beat.

He opened and closed his mouth to try to explain, but you kissed his forehead in apology before he could say anything.

“I, um—thank you for going over these with me,” you whispered into his hairline, feeling his nod against you. You broke away from him, taking his empty bowl to the sink for an excuse to do something with your hands. “I need new scrapers to take off the popcorn ceiling, is there anything else I should get at the hardware store?” You knew it would be hard to hear you over the running water to wash the dish, but you couldn’t risk your voice cracking if you spoke louder.

Mercifully, he didn’t push. “Nothing I can think of, no.”

You left a few minutes later while Sam was in the shower, careening way too fast around the curves in the rural highways just to feel the weight of the Impala strain to stay on track. There were so many things coming together, so many sweet and comfortable aspects to your life, but it was so frustrating to have the two you wanted most to be just barely out of reach; the ability to be truly happy with Sam or to see Dean in your dreams both obfuscated by the self-flagellating remnants of Sam’s unimaginable torture.

And yet, impossible for you to be angry with Sam at all; it was yet another in a long stream of ways his life had been torn to shreds by external forces, yet another reminder of how unimaginably resilient he was to be standing at all. Screaming at the complete unfairness of it like a moody teenager in the privacy afforded by the car and the trees, you only had to wipe a few tears away in the parking lot before going into the hardware store.

Diane was working and had some helpful tips for dealing with the ceilings, as well as a picture of her new grandchild to show you before you headed back to the cabin. You had to bump the front door open with your hip because of the heavy paper bag of supplies, and when Sam heard you he walked over from the couch with a few long strides, taking it out of your hands. His hair was still wet, dripping an uneven collar around his shirt.

“Is this—uh, did you—do you only want this so we can see Dean again?”

You weren’t expecting to get into it again, at least not right away, and had to take a deep breath to soothe your surprise at Sam’s nervous energy. He set the bag down a little roughly on the kitchen counter as you followed him inside.

“Sam, of course not, Jesus. I mean, but I—but yeah, I want to see him again, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” He winced, pained even at the suggestion otherwise.

“I’m sorry I misread the moment earlier. I’m—I, I love you Sam; those days were the only real happy ones I’ve had since Dean died, and if being together means we get to—” and you were cut off by Sam’s hands cupping your face as he kissed you, firm and urgent with tight closed lips like he was trying to seal himself to your skin.

It was over as soon as it started, Sam holding your head as he pulled his own away and searching your eyes. “If it isn’t rea—” he stopped short, screwed his face together before continuing, consciously unclenched his jaw and smoothed the furrows of his eyebrows. “If we’re doing this, it has to be about us. I can’t—I just can’t build everything on some dreams.”

You nodded, stunned.

Sam kept looking between your eyes furiously like he was trying to communicate something you weren’t getting. You tried desperately to race through what it could be and came up short, your brain melting and swirling together inside your skull. It was impossible for you to tell whether he’d found what he wanted or not, but after a few brief seconds of shifting his center of gravity like he was getting ready to either be socked or start a sprint, his face tightened in frustration and he touched his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I’m—I’m not ready,” he growled, more to himself than anything as he shut his eyes hard. You waited for an explanation, your breath gone shallow and your cheeks fiery-hot under Sam’s hands.

He brushed along your cheekbone with a callused thumb and lifted your chin with featherweight pressure, your lips not a half inch apart from each other. You inhaled the citrus off his breath and held perfectly still until Sam finally kissed you again. It was softer than moments before but just as serious, the emotional weight of his lips so much more than the tender movement of them against yours. As kisses went, it was one of the most innocent you’d had—even more than your first kiss ever, middle school boy you’d thought was cute at the roller rink whose braces had caught on your lips—but if this was what Sam could handle it was enough for you, would have to be enough for you. You kissed back only as his mirror and broke away when he did feeling dizzy with complicated restraint.

“I’m almost there, I’m so sorry, I’m almost there,” he murmured, straight into the inches between you so you could let them soak in. “Please, I’m so sorry, I just—if it’s not real I can’t—”

You wrapped your hands around his where they held your head. “I know. I know, Sam, I know.”

Later you wouldn’t remember how you’d moved on to the rest of the day, rhythmically scraping popcorn texture off of drywall while listening to Bikini Kill. But it was a hug and a few tears in a chain of thousands between you, and that was part of it. Like Sam had said, those moments that meant so little on their own and added up over time. You both worked on different chunks of the ceiling and got through a good amount of it. The difference was remarkable, making the cabin look so much cleaner and more modern. After your shoulders got too sore to keep going, Sam threw together a bastardized puttanesca and you both tried really hard to lighten the mood over dinner, ending the evening feeling pretty close to normal.

When you climbed into bed, Sam leaned over so that his hair fell in a curtain around your face. The closeness took your breath away, and you cursed your body for betraying you like this, unable to focus for the scent of familiar warmth coming off of him and hypnotic color shift of his eyes. For a fleeting second of panic you wondered if he would ever feel protective and safe again or if these shocks of heat—spurred on by what, two chaste kisses?—were all you’d ever feel around Sam again, if you’d be able to sleep knowing how close to tipping over that boundary you were.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was going to apologize and stopped him by resting a finger on his mouth as he opened it to speak. He smiled against your hand, gentle and a little sad, before touching his lips to yours for the third time that day. It felt like some kind of healing burn; a cauterizing iron splitting you in half and reassuring you that scattered into pieces was the way you were supposed to be; giving you permission to crumble into dust, let yourself be swept away trusting that there was a plan for the place that every grain of yourself would land. There was no way to know precisely Sam’s intention, but if it was to send your mind unspooling like a cheap yo-yo about what that fourth, fifth, sixth kiss might feel like, he had succeeded.

“Thank you,” he whispered, holding your gaze for a moment before turning off the light and fitting himself like a puzzle piece along the curve of your back.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 13

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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Make Me Yours

Day 4 of Kinktober: Body Ownership

Day 4 of Suptober: Branded

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader

Summary: Michael wants you to be his.

A/N: I swear I'm not that pornography on daily basis I'm even more, but branding is very kinky here. I also strongly support you listening to False God while reading. @itsangelpie @deanmonandnegansbitch, this is the Michael one I was talking about xD

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v, bit of power play, marking, brief fingering, grace

CATCH UP KINKTOBER & SUPTOBER

Michael enjoyed leaving a trace behind like any other powerful celestial.

Once, the loyal son convinced himself that it was because he wanted, not only humans, but his siblings, father, and any other being to know that he could be a savior like he was built to be. No matter what, he was a righteous warrior who would do anything his beloved father wanted him to. He was a perfect soldier, earning nothing but pride and all the head pats possible.

At least, that was before. It was back when Michael thought that God truly loved him and that he had a bigger purpose than gaining adoration from his fragile humans to overthrow Lucifer — his little brother, the archangel that was thrown away like a rough draft. Now, Michael couldn't care less about living up to his goody two shoes reputation. He didn't care about his brothers and sisters either, much less the humans. The archangel wouldn't say that he hated them like Lucifer foolishly did. His brother was wrapped in a bubble of jealousy that was almost embarrassing. No, breakable things didn't deserve attention. Michael just didn't care about them or their little world. All of his heaven-made goals had melted into one thing to look forward to — getting Chuck back to kill him.

So what if he had to burn a couple of dimensions and their human inhabitants? That was just an unfortunate side effect of Chuck’s little creations being the only thing that could catch his attention.

Burn a book? Get the author’s fury.

Michael was more than satisfied with the idea of leaving a trace of calamitous fire behind. It was such a beautiful legacy that would put fear into the atmosphere of the universe, and Michael would be God. He would be better one — the evolved version of what he’d always been as an archangel.

The torn holes of vulnerability inside of him had only grown wider, gaping into an open wound when his father left him as though Michael were as useless as a broken toy. That wicked, selfish side said it was because he wanted everyone to know how terrible he can be — fear him so no one will ever be close enough to hurt him again.

Terror had worked better than adoration for millenniums.

The archangel is good with that. Unlike his father, Michael's ego is as big as the amount of blood in his hands, not the people on their knees or the number of démodé cathedrals to worship him in the name of a bible that he never wrote. He doesn't need humanity’s adoration.

You bit your bottom lip to contain a smile, glancing at him. Michael could read from your mind and erratic heartbeat that you were both excited and curious about what was going to happen. Yet, he didn't need to. He knew your body — that perfect body — very well by himself with no help of his powers.

Correction: he needs one human's worship.

As mentioned beforehand, powerful beings like to leave a trace behind for multiple reasons: marking their territory like a big dog, making a point to gain respect through terror, or boosting their self-confidence.

“Get on all fours, little one.”

For the first time, Michael wanted to make someone a living reminder of him. He wanted to mark a human for being his: you.

You were obedient, quickly moving to the position that he had asked. You can hear Michael humming in satisfaction, moving in such a quiet way that you almost feel surprised when he placed his hand on your back.

Michael watched your body with care, his fingers dancing with tenderness on your skin. He used to believe that a vessel was everything a human body was worth. Sex was a foreign concept, nothing but an earthling’s attempt not to feel alone — if they weren't fighting, they were fucking. It got boring after the first few centuries.

And then, you happened.

“So marvelous, little one.” His words were laced with gruffness, startling a whimper out of you. “All of this…” He held your waist and pulled you back swiftly. You gasped, feeling his hardness against your ass. Michael didn't slide in, but he kept rubbing himself on you. “All of you…” One of his hands slid down your body, making way for his fingers to catch your sweet spot. You were so warm and wet: there was nothing on Heaven, Earth, or Hell as splendid your needy cunt. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“To you, Michael. I belong to you. Please.” You should be ashamed of begging so early, but how could you judge yourself? Michael's hard cock behind you, making your ass dirty with precum along with two fingers inside your pussy and his possessive words stewing inside your head — you were still just a human, after all. “I need you.”

It was blissful, to have someone he was enchanted by to worship him as the Sabaeans did to the stars.

“Patience is a virtue, little one.” The archangel wore a proud smirk, adding another finger into your wet mess. You groaned in response, pressing your hips to his pelvis in an obvious attempt for more.

Michael's cock welcomed the growing arousal, dropping more precum than before and twitching. It was difficult not to give himself any relief, but he had to teach you a lesson before taking you again. Religion came with strict rules.

He pulled away from you, grabbing your neck from behind only to push your head on the bed. Your cheek to the mattress made it was painfully easy for reality to sink in: the archangel’s fingers on your bare skin, his fingers that were inside you. There was something uniquely blasphemous about sinning like this.

“You take what I give you, and you're grateful for that. Understood?” He howled, tightening his hold on you. “I picked you.”

“Yes, master.” The two words fought to leave your mouth before ultimately escaping. You know you should be afraid, but your soul refuses to welcome any feeling other than excitement. Michael didn't even use his grace yet. He wouldn't hurt you: at least, not enough for you to suffer. Everything he did to your body was a blessing.

“Good.” He exhaled, letting go of your neck. The archangel had been way too patient, and you waited long enough. You dared turn your head to look at him, and Michael was divine. His gorgeous body was crouched with his knees on the bed while he patiently observed you. His length was large and rock hard against your leg. You just wanted to give him release. “Like what you see?”

You gulped, nodding furiously. The archangel chortled before he slid his cock inside you without any other warning.

You let out a shamefully loud scream. What else could you do? His cock was fucking its way inside you, cleansing your body with the prayer of being everything you could ever need or want: to feel holy, to feel full. Michael grunted, grabbing your hips to pull you closer, and you moved back and forth in sync with him. Soon, the bed was the one clamoring with noise. Both of you became hollow when you were like this — hungry, craving for something to fill up your empty pieces.

Michael was the right hand of God, the protector — whatever treasures he chose to deify would be eternal because he could make it happen. And for Heaven, he adored you.

His cock found your G-spot, and his grace flooded into your veins as if it was meant to be there. Your walls were tighter and tighter around him, and you couldn't wait to feel his load inside you, marking you from inside. There was a wash of glowing pleasure in your body. You had never felt so light before. This felt like the precipice of your glorified religion, and God, you could make a church out of this.

“That's it, my love.” Michael moaned, his eyes bright blue as he fucked himself into you. You bit the pillow to keep another scream down. He squeezed your waist. There was something burning in your bones with a painful pleasure as his hand glowed. He was branding you as his, writing his symbol all over your soul, bones, and heart. And you were enjoying every single ache of it. “Cum for me. I want to hear you coming for me.”

He may be a false god, but he certainly brought you to heaven.

Your lips parted into a moan as your juice came all over his pulsating cock, and Michael came inside you in a rush. Everything hurt as if he had rearranged your bones, but it was as comfortable as if they were all snapped back together in the right places. You fell on the bed out of exhaustion, wondering if you'd live to see another day. All of you seemed to be on fire, much more than the other times. Your pussy was pulsing, and you could smell him all over your skin. He had made your body his. You were his.

Michael pulled away from you, a lopsided grin on his lips as he glanced at his possession. The archangel laid down, pulling your tired body to him. You clung to Michael while trying to breathe properly. What had just happened?

“Wh — What was that?”

“I marked you, little one.” Michael gave you a devilish grin while his eyes shone a dazzling blue. He was the apocalypse of your soul, and you couldn't wait for the sweet destruction. “Now, everyone will know that you are mine. Your pussy, all your body, and your soul. You belong to me, Y/N.” He had everything now. The world and you. He was ethereal. “I'm your god now.”

You made an altar out of him, and you'd always be a loyalist to this love, no matter the sacrifices you'd have to do for this.

Leave a comment and reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my day 1,2&3 of kinktober & day 3 of suptober, and my masterlist ♡

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canonicallysoulmates · 4 years

Text

🎃Halloween themed wincest fic rec🎃

This fic rec is, primarily, Halloween themed but you’ll also find some horror as well as just in general autumn themed fics all to, hopefully, get y’all in the spirit of the spooky season!

There’s all sorts of ratings, some weecest, a non-related Hocus Pocus AU, hopefully you’ll find something to your liking among all of these fics.

As always please head all warnings and tags as some of these fics do contain graphic and heavy topics.

Happy reading, and Happy Halloween my fellow wincest shippers! 🎃

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Halloween

Eight-Legged Freaks. by anniespinkhouse

Sam/Dean (Wincest) Outsider POV. Takes place early in season 8 but no particular spoilers except for Sam’s hair. Biddy owns a candy store. She also talks to spiders. When FBI agents Sam Smith and Dean Jones investigate a possible haunting, on Halloween evening, the consequence of Dean eating too much candy is disturbing. It’s a race against time for Sam to find a way to return Dean to normal.

The Rocky Horror Sam Show by RockSaltandCherryPie *

Sam goes to a Halloween party and dresses up like Frank N. Furter but ends up looking more like a girl than anything else.

the one that lives behind his heart by Addie_D_123 *

Dean is the spark, Sam is the fire.

The Witch's Dance by brimstonegold and virtualpersonal *

It's either coincidence, or irony, but Sam and Dean find themselves hunting for a witch at The Witch's Dance, a party being given at the local haunted mansion on Halloween. What they find is not the kind of dance they expected.

hell is empty; all the little brothers are here by bellaaanovak

Dean just wants to make the rundown house they’re squatting in look cool for Halloween, but Sam isn’t so excited about strangers in corny costumes knocking on the door for candy. Not when there’s a gang of ghouls wreaking havoc in the neighborhood, anyways.

Greaspaint and Fairy Dust by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)

It’s Halloween. Sam’s least favorite holiday, and what should be the investigation of a simple salt and burn goes awry when Dean gets caught with his hand in the candy cauldron.

Here is where you’ll stay by belyste

Sam, Dean, and haunted hayride. Halloween!fic.

A Winchester Halloween by ello_kitty *

A short story about how the brothers spend the holiday.

Triple XY Or The Hunter, His Bitch And Their Offspring by mpregloveranon

This is the answer to this Halloween!Prompt over at the spnkink_meme. Without reveal to much already I’ll just keep the summary really short. After being cursed Sam is knocked up by his brother. On Halloween he is heavily pregnant with triplets and completely miserable. Dean feels sorry for his baby brother, especially because he pissed the witch off who cursed Sam, and takes good care of him. Throw in raging hormones, some schmoop, some angst and cute little kids and you’ll get the idea what this fic is about. ;)

Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by Ignited *

It’s Halloween, and the locals aren’t clued in to the fact that those things going bump in the night are much more than fabric and latex. Sam and Dean learn this fact the hard way as the clock winds down and a town’s about to be overrun by monsters.

The Witches of Salem by Revenant

There's a legend in Salem, of three sisters accused and hung for the crime of witchcraft, but not before they had killed several of the local children and placed another under a terrible curse. It is said that on Hallowe'en night, when the moon is full, the witches will rise again when a virgin lights the Black Flame Candle.

A little over three hundred years later, Sam Winchester is passing through town trying out his newly awarded independence on what he suspects will be a simple salt-and-burn; why can’t things ever go like he plans?

Why not stay and be caught? by deirdre_c *

Sam wishes to go to The Palace.

Pretty Princess by orphan_account *

Sam is excited to go to a Halloween Party… And then his first heat hits.

Take a Good Look by BewareTheIdes15 *

Sam, Dean, and a haunted house with a mirror maze - sounds like pwp to me!

Kids These Days by Magz (sparklepocalypse) *

Halloween parties are never simple when there are Winchesters involved.

Thy Back to the Forest (and Thy Front to Us) by PetraPan *

For the last three years in Stillwater, Oklahoma, children have disappeared—always five young girls, always on consecutive days, and always during the week of Halloween. By the day the Winchester's pull into town, Sam is enrolled for school, he’s stuck once more on research duty, and Dean already has a date. Sam juggles his new schoolwork, the case, and the ever-growing bitterness at the desire he feels for Dean as best as he can, but at some point he can no longer manage all three. With their father constantly absent and a nasty time constraint, Sam and Dean struggle to figure out who—or what—is taking young girls, just as they struggle to find the balance between brothers and something more.

Sugar Sweet by fallingintodivinity

“What’s all this stuff?” Sam asks warily. He gingerly picks up a bottle of red fluid and squints at it.

“Fake blood!” Dean says cheerfully. “It’s cherry-flavored,” he adds helpfully.

“But why,” Sam says, bewildered.

“Dunno,” Dean says. “It was on sale. Tastes pretty good, actually. Here, lemme show you.”

Halloween by EasyTiga *

Sam and Dean go to a Halloween party for a case and at least one of them can't keep their mind on the mission because of the outfit choice.

Hush Little Baby by hellhoundsprey *

Together with his friends, Sam visits a haunted house. It's Halloween. (Sam is 16, Dean is 20.)

Halloween and High Schoolers by onesillygoose *

I'm realizing how bad my summaries are. Anyway... Sam gets invited to a Halloween party. Dean tags along. Things never go as they should for the Winchesters.

Pumpkin Patch by KissingWinchesters

It's Halloween and Dean decides to steal a giant pumpkin.

VII - One candy left by KissingWinchesters

There’s a piece of melting, sticky caramel pressed into the centre of Sam’s back.

Candy, Pumpkin Spice, And Orgasms by KissingWinchesters

Dean takes Sam to a quaint town on Halloween. Their relationship develops.

He Never Saw the Look by orphan_account

Sam's got a secret. He's in love with his big brother. Little does he know, Dean shares the same dirty little secret.

Pretty Little Thing by Miss_Lv *

Teenager Dean goes to a Halloween party for some fun, he spots a pretty little thing and chases her all evening, flirting, and eventually cornering her. Once his got his hands on her though he realizes she is actually a he, but he's fine with that. Sam snuck out after Dean just because he could, he picked a costume he knew Dean would never recognize him in. After spending the evening being chased by his brother Sam ends up in a semi public place with Dean all over him. Sam's stupid crush on his own brother is not helping matters either.

this way comes by estrella30 *

Written for spn_halloween based on prompt #127: Sam goes to a Halloween party his first year at Stanford and gets dragged off by a guy in a mask who makes out with him. He discovers it's Dean, and the making-out continues with a vengeance.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Horror

Diamond Dogs by kassidy *

Prompt: Supernatural, Sam/Dean, werewolfism - one turns and takes the other down (interpret as you will) for dark_fest LJ comm

A Silent, Creeping Killer by lily rose (annabeth) *

Not long after Dean picks Sam up from Stanford, Sam and Dean go undercover as an engaged couple to investigate the murder of a lesbian hockey player in small-town Connecticut. Along the way, they meet dedicated lovers, frightening ghosts, and the possibility that their ruse might be becoming all too real. How will they handle their changing feelings for each other? Who will protect the lovers and tenants of the Windsor boarding house? And what does all this have to do with the play 'Arsenic and Old Lace'?

darling by allwellandgood

Dean is dead. Sam has a theory that nothing will ever hurt again.

I Wonder as I Wander by dollylux

Bobby sends Sam and Dean to investigate a strange town.

Let Me Take You Far Away by orphan_account *

Season 10. It's exactly what they need. A vacation. That's how Dean can make everything else go away. Cas was right. That's all they need. A nice, little vacation.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Fall/Autumn themed

Death of the Petals by doctor__idiot

Dean has always thought that fall held some sort of magic.

Where You Are [Is Where I Belong] by non_tiembo_mala

Sam is stuck in class on a beautiful fall day. His mind wanders and it always ends up on Dean.

Hazy Hunter's Moon by GhostlyVoid *

Sam saves a hunter who got attacked by a werewolf, knowing exactly what trouble he's inviting into his home. The hunter, Dean, is predictably less than thrilled owing his life to a witch.

Delicious Autumn by sammichgirl

Dean just wants to give Sam a great day full of some favorite things.

Autumn Leaves by dragonspell *

In the weak light of early morning, the autumn leaves are starting to paint the woods in reds and golds and a burning orange. On some level or another, Dean knows that it’s beautiful; he does. He's just got to find Sam first.

#wincest #wincest fic rec #mine #this was supposed to be up on monday but life hapened #so...it's still halloween in places it's fine #this is probably the longest fic rec i've done

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Getaway car

Summary: A story like Bonny & Clyde that’s what you wanted with him. Sadly, life gets in between you and your Clyde…

Pairing: Criminal!Dean x Criminal!Reader; Mobster!Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, language, abandonment, crimes, robbery, unrequited love?, a hint of fluff

A/N: And again, Taylor Swift inspired one of my stories. This time it was ‘Getaway car’. Lyrics are taken from her song.

The first time you laid eyes on him was at the diner you were working your shift. He stalked toward the counter, ordering pie and went home with you instead.

It was crazy, dirty, and rough but he left you wanting more. Weeks later he came back, wanting more and more until you followed him…

He was the best of times, the worst of crimes

I struck a match

And blew your mind, but I didn't mean it

And you didn't see it

The ties were black, the lies were white

And shades of grey in candlelight

I wanted to leave him

I needed a reason

Three years later you lean against the wall at the bar, your smile long gone, just like the excitement and adrenaline after another successful raid.

The last bank should have been the last. Retirement, a future, that is what Dean promised to you but lately, you got the feeling you will end up like all his other partners before.

Dropped at a motel, fifty bucks on the nightstand and brokenhearted as he found a new ‘Bonnie’.

You believed him when he said you are the one. You desperately wanted this life with him, but things change – so does Dean.

Right now, he leans closer to the bartender, that million-dollar smile which once melted your heart on his plump lips. The only difference, this time he gives it to that girl - his next partner as you assume.

It pains to admit you were just that, a young girl he could corrupt and use as a distraction during his raids until you lost your usefulness; until he found a younger and sexier girl to use.

You do not know where or when you lost it, but you know it’s over when he gives the girl a wink, snickering at something she said.

One last time you glance at Dean, ignoring the ache in your chest before you turn your back on him to leave the motel bar.

X marks the spot

Where we fell apart

He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

In a haste you count the money, leaving half of the bait, two-hundred thousand bucks, for Dean on the motel bed. The keys to his car, you take them with you to get to the next hideout.

One last deep breath and you place the note for Dean onto the pillow, placing the necklace he gave you on top of it.

“Goodbye, my Clyde…” You leave the room, not looking back, hurrying toward the getaway car Dean stole a state ago. He won’t miss the rusty car, already having another in eyesight to escape if need.

Dean’s hand trembles when he enters the motel room only to find you gone. He waited the whole evening for you to show up, the engagement ring he stole at the bank burning a hole into his pocket.

“Goodbye, my Clyde,” Dean sniffs reading the note. “How could you believe I want to replace you, sweetheart?”

Dear Dean, my beloved Clyde,

I believed you when you said this is the last time. Sadly, I had to watch you hit on the next girl to be your Bonnie. I know, I was just the next best girl you found for your heists, but I will always remember our time.

To me, you are the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I am sorry that I was not enough for you to not stray.

I left half of the bait, Dean, and took the car. You will not miss the rusty wreck, I know you will find a new one in a blink, just like a new partner.

I will try to fulfill my dream with my half of the money. Please, if you ever felt anything for me, do not go after me to get the money back. I earned it as much as you did.

I will always love you.

Your Bonnie…

Tears cloud Dean eyes re-reading the letter until he falls onto the bed, sighing deeply.

You were drivin'

The getaway car

We were flyin'

But we'd never get far

Don't pretend it's such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

We're ridin'

In a getaway car

There were sirens in the beat of your heart

Should've known I'd be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

“So…where is your special girl, Dean?” Looking at the money onto his table Sam swallows thickly. “Dean?”

“She left, believing she’s just a random partner. I didn’t use her as bait, Sammy. She was the one, the one that got away,” Dean opens the little black box to show his brother the diamond ring.

“The money, it’s enough to get back into the business and to pay for the house,” Dean nods, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “You did all this to get dad’s business back. We should try to use what you got. I brought my half too, twenty million.”

“Got thirty, Sam. Just give me a day or two. I need a bit of time,” watching his brother leave the room, a frown on his face Sam nods, understanding the heart-wrenching pain to lose the woman you love.

“We talk tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Take your time, Dean.” Sam gives his brother as cracked smile watching Dean stuff the ring back into his pocket.

“She left, took the getaway car, and never looked back. What if I never find her, Sammy? What if she’s gone for good?”

In a getaway car, oh-oh

No, they never get far, oh-oh-ahh

No, nothing good starts

In a getaway car

5 years later … somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Rocheport, Missouri

“Y/N, I’ve seen my old dog walk faster than you serve our customers. I have to rethink your position in this diner,” your boss nags once again.

It is not as if you didn’t work 12 hours in a row to make more money or that the diner is crowded, and you are the only waitress.

“I’ll try to work faster,” you reply, biting your tongue to not lose yet another job.

This small-town is a nightmare but your car broke not 10 miles out of town, so you had no other choice but to stay here, make some money until you find another town and another shitty job.

Five years ago, you had a plan, the money and motivation to have a better life. Two months in running your shop, a bakery, someone bought the building opposite your tiny shop, destroying your dream in the blink of an eye. It did not take more than a month to lose all your customers to the impressive café.

Without money left you grabbed your stuff and fleed out of town, no dreams in your pocket this time. You drove from town to town. Worked to make a few bucks to hit the road to nowhere again.

Looking back at that night, the night you left Dean you regret that you never talked to him. Maybe, just maybe he would’ve changed his mind and kept his promise.

It was the great escape

The prison break

The light of freedom on my face

But you weren't thinkin'

And I was just drinkin'

While he was runnin' after us

I was screamin', "Go, go, go!"

But with three of us, honey, it's a side show

And a circus ain't a love story

And now we're both sorry

(We're both sorry)

“What can I bring you, Sir?” A tall man wearing an expensive suit looks up at you, a soft smile on his lips. He doesn’t quite fit in. Men like him prefer an expensive restaurant, not a shady diner.

“Coffee, black. Please,” you nod, writing his order down whilst the man glances at your nametag. “Y/N, nice name.”

“Oh-well, my mom gave it to me,” the man smiles again, taking the menu you offered to him. “If you want anything else, tell me so when I bring the coffee, Sir.”

“Sam, just call me Sam.” You mirror his smile, believing he is new in town and tries to be polite. Usually, your customers bark their order at you only to not give a tip or to spill their coffee onto your apron.

“Anything else, Sir?” Sam shakes his head, paying the coffee and take-away pie, handing you a huge tip. “Thank you.”

“Must be hard to work at this place,” you nod, giving him a cracked smile. “Why does a girl like you work at this place?”

“Had a dream years ago, but it didn’t work out. You know, I had a nice little bakery but someone else opened a better, bigger, and more colorful place. I lost,” he nods, offering an apologetic smile before he gets up.

“Sometimes things are meant to end and sometimes,” he dips his head to look at you with soft eyes, “things turn out for the better.”

X marks the spot

Where we fell apart

He poisoned the well

Every man for himself

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

It hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart

Your shift is almost over when the bell above the door rings again. Your boss wants to bark at the person entering the diner after closing time but oddly, he turns pale.

“Something wrong, boss?” He shakes his head, choking out the word gun. You don’t want to but you force your body to turn around only for your to look into the barrel of a shotgun.

Two large men entered the diner, wearing black clothes and masks they crowd the diner. “You, come over here!” The smaller of the men barks at you, jerking the shotgun toward the place next to him. “Hurry or I’ll give your boss a brand-new hole.”

“Do it bitch,” your boss barks and you hurry toward the man’s side, sniffling. “At least you are not useless this time. We got around five hundred in the register plus her tips in the jar under the counter.”

“Classy to tell us about her tips,” the man next to you spats. “Come here, Y/N. I need to make sure you do not try anything stupid.”

You nod, walking toward the man who immediately wraps one arm around your waist, pressing his lips to your ear.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His deep voice, the way he husks the pet name into your ear and his cologne let your knees buckle. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. I’ll bring my Bonnie home now.”

“Got it,” Sam smirks, showing Dean the money and your tip jar. “Let’s go and buy drugs,” Dean snickers at Sam’s words, holding you flush against his firm chest.

“Okay, you son of a bitch will stay where you are and not call the cops. We will take your sweet waitress to make sure you do not try anything,” Dean leads you out of the diner whilst Sam aims his shotgun at your boss.

“Do not move or she dies…”

“How? I…” Lips quivering you watch the man you met at the diner carry your few belongings out of the motel room you inherit. “How did you find me? Will you kill me now? I…I don’t have the money…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean pecks your forehead, running his hands up and down your back to calm you. “I needed 5 years to find you, Y/N. I never wanted to replace you, my Bonnie.”

“You flirted with that girl,” you sniffle, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I thought you want to get rid of me like with the other girls before me.”

“There were no other girls before you, Y/N. I lied, okay. In the beginning, I needed a partner as my brother left me. I wanted to keep our relationship strictly professional.” You giggle, looking up at Dean.

“After you had me bare that first night? Very professional, Mr. Clyde.” Dean hums, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you, Dean. There was not a single day I didn’t think about our time together.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart. We should hit the road before the cops arrest us for stealing lousy five-hundred bucks.” Sam snickers, pointing toward your now empty tip jar.

“I left the money with the poor boy at the reception. I think he never got a larger tip before.”

“Whoa…you invested the money better than I,” your eyes round, following Dean toward the family mansion he bought five years ago.

“I got our house from the bank and my father’s business back with the money. Sammy paid his half and we are back in business.” Dean leads you inside, holding your hand the whole time. “Now I got everything I ever wanted.”

You bite your lip, glancing at the tiny black box Dean holds in his hand. “I wanted to give you this five years ago.”

“Dean…” You gasp, looking at the little handcuffs. “Did you want to arrest me?” He smirks, getting the silver keychain out of the box.

“If you prove you will not run away again,” he whispers, glancing at your lips, “I’ll give you the ring I stole for you…”

You were drivin'

The getaway car

We were flyin'

But we'd never get far

Don't pretend it's such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

We're ridin'

In a getaway car

There were sirens

In the beat of your heart

Should've known I'd be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

In a getaway car, oh-oh

No, they never get far, oh-oh-ahh

No, nothing good starts

In a getaway car

“I don’t think I’ll need a getaway car again, Clyde,” you press your lips to Dean’s, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I am your Bonnie if you still want me…”

“Next time you need a getaway car, take me with you.” Dean deepens the kiss, not letting up until you gasp for air. “But I think, we are safe for now…”

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@lovefromthewinchesters

@coffeebooksandfandom

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

@squirrelnotsam

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A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#Getaway car #song fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #criminal!dean #criminal!dean winchester #criminal!dean x criminal!reader #MOBSTER!AU #mobster au #mobsterdean #mobster!dean x reader #angst #dean Winchester au #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester SPN

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Makayla Part Three

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2149

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Tensions are high in the bunker as you make a plan of attack against the vampires. Sam tries to make up for lost time. Everyone bonds with the newest Winchester.

Notes: Okay, writing Sam trying to figure out how to be a dad is sooooo fun. Also, Uncle Dean is possibly my favorite thing ever. I hope you guys enjoy part three to this series! I’m having a blast!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

“Mom!” You woke up to the sound of your daughter screaming. “Mommy!” Makayla was kicking at the blankets, her little fists swinging at some invisible monster. Another nightmare. You grabbed her and pulled her into your arms.

“It’s okay, baby. Wake up. I’ve got you.” You rocked her back and forth until her eyes opened, fat tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You’re alright, Kayla.”

“It was the monsters again. The shadow man.”

“He isn’t here, baby.” You ran your fingers through her hair. “He can’t hurt you.” Your door flew open and Dean and Sam rushed in, Mary peaked out behind them.

“What is it? Did it hurt you?” Sam rushed to the bed while Dean checked every corner, both holding their pistols. Mary even had a machete at the ready.

“It’s okay, guys. She just had a bad dream.” You explained, groggily getting out of bed with Kayla still trembling in your arms. “Do you guys have any milk? That usually helps her calm down.” Sam thought for a moment, but Dean responded quickly.

“Chocolate or white?” Sam turned and gave him a strange look. “What? That stuff is the nectar of the gods, Sammy.” Sam shook his head.

“I can’t believe you're older than me.”

“C-can I have chocolate milk, daddy?” Kayla sniffed.

“See, the kid gets it.” Dean scoffed. Mary smacked his arm. Sam was still processing being called dad.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Sam held out his arms to take her and you hesitated. Then you remembered that you had been doing this for four years and he had missed all of it. You tried to give him a peace making smile, but he ignored you. Makayla buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hide her tears like a tough girl. Sam sat her down and went over to the fridge, finding the chocolate milk hidden behind a case of beers.

“I woke everybody up.” Makayla cried, covering her face with her small hands. Sam poured the milk and hurried back over to her.

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He soothed, gently pulling her hands away. “Here, have some of this.” He held up the glass of milk to her lips and she drank slowly, her tears eventually stopping. “Better?” She nodded slightly. Sam pulled up a chair beside her, setting the now half empty cup on the table.

“I bet you never get scared.” Makayla looked at him, her big blue-green eyes filled with awe. Her eyes looked like his. Sam smiled.

“I get scared all the time.”

“Really?” She gasped.

“Oh yeah. In fact, I have nightmares too.” Her mouth fell open and Sam continued, his tone sweet and caring. “I used to be really scared of my nightmares, but you know what I did?” She leaned forward excitedly. “I told myself that I can face anything as long as I remember that I’m not alone. So the next time that you get scared by the…”

“The shadow man.” She shivered.

“Okay, the next time you get shared by the shadow man, you just remember that you’ve got me and your mom and your Uncle Dean and Grandma Mary. You’ve even got an angel on your side.” Her eyes widened.

“An angel?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“That’s right, sweetie, Uncle Cas is like your guardian uncle.” Cas could barely guard himself most of the time, but she didn’t need to know that. “You can always fight your fears when you remember that you are never alone.” She hugged his arm, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“My mom is right.” She beamed. “You are a hero.” And just like that, Sam Winchester’s heart melted and not just for the little girl clinging to him. Yup… he was in trouble.

Sam stayed up most of the night getting Makayla back to sleep so he slept in a little longer than the rest of the bunker. Mary got up first and made the coffee, followed by you and then a very disgruntled looking Dean. You were curled up in one of the chairs, looking over your journal. There had to be some way to connect all of your research to find the vampires’ nest.

“It looks like that girl has got Sam wrapped around her finger already.” Mary smirked, looking at you as she sipped her coffee. She wasn’t your biggest fan, of course, but heart breaker or not, you still gave Sam what she had always hoped for him- a family of his own. Dean made a sound, but he was still only half awake.

“So I’ve pinpointed the area of the nest, but not the specific location.” You slid your journal across the table to him. “During slower hunting seasons, they’ve stayed near home in Springfield, Colorado. As far as I know, there’s fifteen, maybe seventeen.”

“Perfect,” Dean grumbled. You were about to add something when your eyes went wide.

“Dean!” You shrieked, pointing to the doorway. He turned around in confusion.

“Oh god,” He jumped out of his chair and rushed to Makayla, who had somehow found his pistol and was now pointing it at his mother. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to need you to give that back to me.” He laughed nervously, holding out his hand.

“How did she get that?” Mary exclaimed.

“Hell if I know.” Dean kept smiling, hoping that Makayla would calmly hand over his very lethal weapon.

“That’s a bad word, Uncle Dean.” Kayla scolded, shaking the pistol at him. Dean’s eyes widened frantically.

“Makayla Mary Y/L/N, give him that gun. You know that it’s not a toy.” Your mom voice instinctively kicked in and Makayla pouted her lip, giving you her classic puppy dog gaze. You could tell that Dean’s resolve was failing to her cuteness, but you were holding strong. You put your hands on your hips. “Now.” She handed Dean his pistol and he quickly tucked it into his waistband. Mary was looking at you, blush spreading on her cheeks.

“What did you say her name was?” She gasped. You hadn’t even realized that you said her full name.

“It’s um, Makayla, after my best friend. And Mary… after you.” Even if Sam didn’t know when she was born, you still wanted his family to be a part of her. For the first time since you’d met, Mary looked at you without glaring. She looked really touched.

“Piggyback ride!” Makayla squealed before suddenly jumping onto Dean’s back.

“Son of a-” He started until you gave him a stern look. He glared back at you, but underneath his annoyance, he had a tone of affection in his voice when he spoke to his niece. “Alright kid, but only for a few laps.” You looked on with an amused smile. Dean even made a few horse noises, making Makayla giggle. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was Naomi, probably just calling to check in and make sure you were alright.

“Miss me already? How sweet.” You snarked. Your smirk dropped when it wasn’t her voice on the other line.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time.” The man drawled. Your heart dropped. You knew that voice. That night flashed through your head. That fake southern sweetness singing your name as they hunted you, your best friend’s blood still dripping from their lips. Montgomery.

“Where’s Naomi?” You snapped, your changed tone catching Mary’s attention.

“She was delicious.” He laughed. You tried to focus on your anger to cover up the pain that shot through your chest.

“I’m going to end you, you bastard.” You said through gritted teeth. He just laughed.

“We know all about the little team you’ve assembled. It’s touching really. To think I’ve inspired a family reunion.” The vamp mocked you and you could feel the hot tears blurring your vision. “Make no mistake, Y/N. They’ll all die. Starting with that handsome tall one, the one that knocked you up all those years ago. But don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you.” His voice changed to a terrifying growl. “I’m going to turn you, Y/N. Turn you into the thing you’ve hated for so long. And that brat will be your first kill.”

Montgomery hung up and you looked at the phone with a shaking hand. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. You threw the phone against the wall, watching it shatter on the floor. You didn’t even see Sam standing there. You were lucky you missed his head. Dean put a frightened Makayla down.

“Hey Kayla, why don’t you go with Grandma Mary for a little while?” Dean gave her a little push towards his mother and Mary took her to the other room. His flashed back to you. “The hell was that?”

“They killed Naomi.” You said, resisting the urge to wreck anything you could get your hands on, especially since Dean was the closest. “They killed her because she helped me.” Naomi was a good friend. Whenever you needed someone to watch over Makayla, it was Naomi’s place that you took her to. No questions as long as you came back in one piece.

“I’m sorry.” Sam sighed. His kind tone nearly made you break. You needed someone to yell, to blame you for letting this happen.

“We’ve got to take this sons of bitches out.” Dean was itching to kill and he knew you were too.

“We need a plan first, Dean. We can’t just go in swinging machetes.” Sam scoffed. “We don’t even know where they are.”

“We can always draw them out.” You suggested. “They want me, they can come and get me.”

“What? No.” Sam exclaimed. “That’s not even remotely an option.”

“Sam, it might be the only way to get to them.” You refuted. “They’ve been hunting me for too long. If Montgomery wants to dance, then I say ‘let’s dance’.”

“Did you suddenly forget that this isn’t just about you?” His jaw clenched and he crossed the kitchen to you.

“I’m doing this for Makayla.”

“No, you’re doing this for you!” Your faces were too close together and the look in his eyes made you take a step back. “You’ve gotten that sweet girl messed up in your fight for revenge when she should have grown up playing with teddy bears and Barbies.” That was the last straw. This wasn’t just about you.

“I am not John, Sam.” You spat. How dare he stand there and call you a bad mother? Sam just glared.

“Really, cause it seems to me you’re just like him. Makayla is growing up just like I did. A parent obsessed with vengeance, no regard for how screwed up they’re making their kid!” He barely finished his sentence before you slapped him.

Nobody said a word. Sam jerked his head back towards you and Dean was ready to step in before this got ugly. The moment was interrupted, however, by the quiet sound of crying. Your heart dropped and a wave of guilt washed over both you and Sam. Makayla looked up at her parents.

“We’re supposed to be a family.” She bawled. “Why do you have to fight?” Before either of you could say anything, she took off down the hall.

“Makayla!” Sam yelled, feeling absolutely awful.

“Kayla, honey come back!” The three of you went after her, but it was a big bunker and she was a pretty small child. “Makayla!”

“Damn that kid is fast.” Dean muttered. You stopped.

“Okay, Dean, you go check the dungeon, I’ll go check the bedrooms, and Sam you can look in the garage.” You suggested. Sam nodded, your fight put aside, but not forgotten. His cheek still stung a little.

“Makayla!” He called out, hearing you and Dean depart for your designated areas. He opened the door to the garage and was surprised to find the door open. “Makayla, come on out.” A cold breeze blew in and he noticed a little huddled form just outside the garage door. He took off his flannel and slowly peeked outside. “Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” He draped his shirt around her. It might as well have been a blanket.

“I-I don’t like yelling. The shadow man always yells.” She cried. Sam sighed. He had made his daughter cry because he couldn’t just face his real feelings for you.

“I’m so sorry sweetie, you’re mom and I were having a disagreement. We won’t yell anymore.”

“Why did Mommy hit you?”

“She didn’t mean to.” He gave her a convincing smile. Makayla peeked over his shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Sam’s brows furrowed together.

“Wh-” His head was slammed into the ground before he could even turn around.

“Leave my daddy alone!” Makayla cried and a person in all black picked her up.

“No…” Sam said hazily, his consciousness slowly fading. “Makayla…”

Continue to Part Four

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

Sam Winchester: @theamuz; @adeliness

Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker; @hoboal87

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester daughter #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #mary winchester #winchester family #Jared Padalecki

74 notes · View notes

supernatural-fangirl1967 · 4 years

Text

Keeping Secrets - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Daddy Dean, FLUFF

Word Count: 4,130

Square Filled: Pillow Forts (Fluff Bingo)

Square Filled: Pillow Fort (Dean Bingo)

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo and @spndeanbingo. Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

“Daddy, what are we going to do at your house?” Abby asks from her carseat.

“Well, what all do you like to do?” he asks her.

“Ummm, me and Mommy do girl things but I don’t think that you’ll like those.”

Dean chuckles. “Sweetheart, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

Abby gasps. “Even tea parties?”

“Especially tea parties,” Dean smiles as he tries to keep his eyes on the road. “Do you like camping?”

“Yeah!” Abby says excitedly. “Mommy puts a tent in the yard sometimes but we don’t sleep in it because there’s too many bugs.” Dean chuckles as Abby talks. “Is that what we’re going to do, Daddy?”

“Not today, sweetheart,” Dean tells her softly. “But I know something that we can do that’ll be just as fun.”

“What’s that?” she asks him.

When Dean pulls up at a red light, he turns in his seat a bit so that he can smirk at her. “You’ll see when we get to Daddy’s house.”

“Me and Mommy do this a bunch,” Abby says as she helps Dean carry blankets and pillows into the living room. Dean chuckles as he turns around to bend down to Abby’s height.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good,” Abby smiles widely. “I love doing this.”

“Good,” Dean smiles. “I promise that I’ll take you on a real camping trip sometime, alright?”

“That makes me happy.”

“Well, if you’re happy then I’m happy too,” Dean smiles as he takes the load out of Abby’s arms and drops it to the floor.

“Daddy, are we going to stay up all night?”

“We can if that’s what you want to do,” Dean tells her, knowing that she’ll probably be asleep before nine.

“Yep,” Abby giggles as she tries to help Dean. She moves the pillows around, tells him when she thinks that he’s making a mistake, and criticizes the way the blankets are being draped over various pieces of furniture. Dean sighs and he teasingly argues with Abby all while thinking about how he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“There,” Dean says as he looks over at Abby. “How’s that for a fort? You like it?”

“I love it!” Abby squeals excitedly as she claps her little hands. “Don’t tell Mommy, but you can make forts better than her.”

Dean chuckles as he holds one corner of the blanket up and motions for Abby to crawl on in. “Well, I might be better at making forts but I doubt that my cooking is as good as Mom’s, and unfortunately I can hear your stomach growling so what do you want to eat? Do you like grilled cheese?”

“Yeah! And ketchup soup,” Abby says, causing Dean to have to bite his lips together to keep himself from laughing.

“Sweetheart, you mean tomato soup?” Dean asks her.

“Duh,” Abby says as she gives Dean an innocent look.

“Well you sit and be a good girl and I will bring it to you, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Dean chuckles as he drops the corner of the blanket before turning to walk into the kitchen. Dean can hear Abby softly singing to herself and it causes his heart to melt. He’s never heard anything sound so sweet, and he honestly doesn’t know how on earth you’re surviving right now without her. He’s known about her a week and he wants nothing more than to be with her everyday.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Dean says as he pokes his head underneath the blankets to hand her a plate. Abby stares down at it and Dean frowns as he crawls in beside of her with a plate for himself. “Abby, what’s wrong, sweetie?”

She looks at Dean and smiles widely at him. “You cut the crust off.”

“Yeah,” Dean says slowly. “Did you not want me to cut it off?”

“Yeah, I did,” Abby tells him softly. “But I didn’t ask you too and you still did it.”

Dean smiles at her. “I figured that you like it that way.”

“You’re a good Daddy,” Abby tells him as she bites into her sandwich.

“Well, I am glad that you think so, cutie.”

Abby giggles as Dean reaches over to gently mess her hair up. He smiles at her before reaching over to grab the remote. Abby’s little eyes stay glued to the T.V. screen as she eats, and Dean’s eyes stay glued to her.

“Daddy, can we sleep here?” Abby asks without looking over at Dean.

“If that’s what you want to do then we sure can,” Dean tells her. “I do want you to see your room before you fall asleep though, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiles widely.

When they’re both done eating, Dean grabs both of their plates to take them to the kitchen. He sets everything down in the sink and decides that cleaning up isn’t as important as being with Abby right now. Dean turns to walk to the living room, but he stops and jumps when he sees Abby standing there.

“Woah!” Dean hollers as he brings a hand up to his heart. “Sweetheart, you scared me.”

“I do that to Mommy a lot,” Abby giggles as Dean takes a deep breath.

“You’re like a ninja, kiddo,” Dean chuckles as he leans over to pick Abby up. She smiles widely at him as she wraps both of her little arms tightly around his neck.

“Daddy?”

“What, baby?”

“Can I see my room now so that we can sleep in the fort?”

“Alright,” Dean laughs as he turns to carry Abby down the hallway. He puts her down so that she can run to her room. “To the left, sweetheart.” Abby runs into Dean’s room and he chuckles as he walks in there to see what she’s up to. “Left, sweetheart. You went right.”

“Well, I don’t know my directions, Daddy,” Abby huffs.

“You don’t?” Dean asks her. “Didn’t we learn those a few days ago?”

“Well, I guess that you just aren’t a good teacher then,” Abby giggles.

Dean fakes a gasp. “Oh, you have had it, little girl.” Abby squeals as she takes off running out of the room, but Dean throws an arm out and picks her up.

“No, Daddy! No!” Abby laughs breathlessly as she pounds her little fists against Dean’s arm. “Please don’t tickle me!”

“I promise not to tickle you if you promise me that you didn’t mean what you just said,” Dean tells her.

“Okay,” Abby giggles. “I promise.”

Dean chuckles as he lets Abby go. She runs out into the hallway and stops when she sees her room.

“Daddy, is that mine?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s yours,” Dean tells her softly. Abby walks into the room and Dean leans up against the doorframe as she explores this new space. “Do you like it?”

Abby nods her little head. “Did Mommy help you?”

“No,” Dean chuckles.

Abby turns around to gape at Dean. “Then how did you know what I like?”

Dean shrugs his shoulders a bit at her. “I took a guess.”

“Wow, you’re good at that,” Abby says, causing Dean to have to bite his lips and hold in a laugh once more. Abby gasps before running over to her bed and grabbing the stuffed puppy dog that’s sitting on her pillow. “I’ve got the same one at Mommy’s but she was washing it and I couldn’t bring it.”

“Now you’ve got it here,” Dean tells her, feeling proud that he caused that big smile on her face.

“Can I take it into the fort with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

Abby squeals as she takes off running towards the living room. Dean smiles as he follows her and she almost trips as she tries to duck underneath the blankets.

“Careful,” Dean chuckles as he ducks in behind her. Abby plops down on the couch cushions that Dean laid out on the floor before she motions at him to sit down beside of her.

“Here, Daddy,” Abby smiles as Dean settles in beside of her. Abby lays her little head over onto Dean’s shoulder and he smiles as he wraps an arm around her. When Abby’s body goes limp, Dean looks over at her to see that she is out of it. Dean carefully pulls her over into his lap and picks the remote up to turn the T.V. off. He gently lays Abby down onto one of the couch cushions that he has laid down on the ground before grabbing one of the many blankets that are laying around and draping it over her.

Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket and he smiles when he sees that he has a text from you.

How’s it going?

Dean looks down at Abby before he replies. She’s asleep.

Good. I was afraid that she’d keep you up all night.

Nah. She’s been good. You’ll probably hear all about it tomorrow.

I don’t doubt it. You call me if you need anything.

Will do, sweetheart.

Dean sets his phone down onto one of cushions before he lays down beside of Abby. He looks over at her little face and he can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his. He can’t believe that this amazing tiny human being is a part of him.

Dean’s eyes slide shut but he never drifts off into a deep sleep. He keeps waking up and looking over at Abby to see if she’s still alright. When his eyes pop open and he sees that Abby is awake and crying, his heart breaks.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean says softly as he reaches over to gently pull Abby tightly to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss Mommy,” Abby whines as she turns her little head to hide her face in Dean’s neck.

“Well, that’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean tells her softly. “You were so tired that you fell asleep before you could call Mommy to talk to her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Because I’m not supposed to miss Mommy when I’m with you.”

“Show me where it says that in the rule book,” Dean tells her. Abby looks at Dean and he gives her a soft smile. “We can call Momma if you want to.”

“What if Mommy’s asleep?”

“I don’t think that she cares if you need to talk to her,” Dean says as he pulls up your number to call you.

“Dean?”

“Hey, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No. I haven’t been able to go to sleep anyways.”

Dean frowns a bit when he hears you sniff. “Well, we’ve got a little girl here who is missing her Momma.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, sweetheart. She wants to talk to you is all.”

“Okay.”

“Here you go, kiddo,” Dean tells Abby as he hands the phone over to her.

“Mommy?” Abby says as she curls up into Dean’s side. He wraps an arm around her as he leans in a bit so that he can hear what you’re saying.

“Hi, babygirl. Do you like staying over at Daddy’s?”

“Yeah,” Abby smiles softly. “We made a fort!”

“Well, it sounds like you’re having all kinds of fun.”

“Yeah. I like Daddy.” Dean’s heart swells and then breaks when a big frown crosses Abby’s face. “But I miss you, Mommy.”

“Aw, I miss you too but I want you to have fun at Daddy’s, okay? I’ll be okay and Daddy’s going to take good care of you.”

“I know,” Abby says. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Abby hands Dean’s phone to him and she give him a big smile. “I feel better now, Daddy.”

“Good,” Dean chuckles as he reaches a hand over to gently ruffle up Abby’s hair. “Why don’t you turn the T.V. on for a while so that I can talk to Mommy, okay?”

“Okay,” Abby nods. Dean smiles at Abby and he crawls out of the fort before bringing the phone up so that he can speak to you.

“I think that that helped her a lot,” Dean tells you as he walks down the hallway towards his room.

“She definitely likes being there with you, Dean,” you tell him truthfully. Dean can hear the tiredness and stress in your voice, and he is thankful that Abby was oblivious to it when she talked to you.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Dean asks you softly as he shuts his bedroom door a bit, leaving it cracked open so that he can hear if Abby needs him.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

You swallow hard. “You know how I got fired because I told my boss that I was going to have to pick Abby up from school?”

“Yeah,” Dean tells you.

“Well, I had an interview the other day and got a call today,” you tell him. “I didn’t get it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Dean breathes out.

“If it were only me then I could pull it off a while and move in with my parents if I had to to get on my feet. But it isn’t only me and me and my parents aren’t on good terms and I…”

“(Y/N), you do not have to worry about Abby,” Dean tells you softly. “That kid is going to be taken care of. I promise you that. I will do anything and everything that I can to help you.”

“No, Dean, I don’t want child support or anything like that,” you tell him. “As long as you take care of Abby when she’s there with you then we are good. I promise.”

“That’s not good enough for me though,” Dean tells you.

“Dean…”

“Look, (Y/N), I get that you’ve been taking care of Abby by yourself for five years without any help, but if you need it then you’ve gotta set your pride aside…”

“This isn’t about being too proud to accept your help, Dean,” you tell him truthfully.

“Then what is it about?”

You take a deep breath. “We can talk about this tomorrow when I pick Abby up, okay?”

“Okay,” Dean tells you softly.

“Thank you for the offer,” you tell him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Dean tells you softly. “But I want you to know that you’re not alone in this anymore. I’m here to help.”

“I know that, Dean, and I appreciate it,” you tell him truthfully.

“I know you do, (Y/N).”

“Go take care of our girl now, Dean,” you tell him softly. “She needs you more than I do.”

“Alright. You call if you need me for anything.”

“I will,” you tell Dean before hanging up the phone. Dean sighs and he takes a deep breath before walking out of his room and over towards the fort.

“You okay now, sweetheart?” Dean asks Abby softly as he pokes his head into the fort.

“I’m okay, Daddy,” Abby tells Dean as she looks over at him and she nods her head a bit. Dean gives her a soft smile before crawling over to lay down beside of her once more. Abby turns the T.V. off and she lays down beside of Dean, curling up into his side.

“You didn’t have to do that if you wanted to sit up a while, sweetheart,” Dean tells Abby softly as he presses a gentle kiss to her head.

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Abby whispers as her little eyes meet his. “I like doing this. You make me feel safe.”

Dean’s heart melts a bit. “I love you, babygirl.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” Abby says softly as her little eyes drift shut. Dean presses his lips firmly to her forehead before he tightens his grip on her.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” Dean whispers to her as he lets himself drift off to sleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Daddy, can we get icecream?” Abby asks Dean as he straps her into her carseat.

“You do not need icecream,” Dean chuckles as he pulls away to shut the door.

“Please, Daddy,” Abby begs as Dean take his seat behind the wheel.

“Honey, I have to take you home to Momma.”

“But I thought that Mommy was going to pick me up at your house.”

“Well, sweetheart, she was but Mommy texted me and told me that she needed me to bring you home.”

“Oh,” Abby sighs disappointedly. “Daddy?”

“What, babygirl?”

“Why can’t you live with me and Mommy?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “Sweetheart, why don’t we talk about this another day, okay?”

Abby huffs as she crosses her little arms. “That’s what Mommy tells me.”

Dean chuckles as he turns a bit in his seat to see Abby pouting. “Gosh, you look like your Mom when you do that, kid.” Abby fakes a whimper and Dean can’t help but to laugh a bit at her. “You’re cute, sweetheart, but it is going to take a lot more than that to crack me.”

When Dean pulls up in your driveway and turns around to look at Abby, his heart breaks when he sees that she really is crying now.

“Oh, honey,” Dean sighs as he gets out of the car and goes to get Abby out of her carseat. Abby grips tightly onto Dean’s shirt as he grabs her bag and shuts the door. She lets out a sob into Dean’s neck as he carries her towards your front porch.

“Please, Daddy,” Abby whines. “Don’t leave me.”

“What’s wrong?” you frown as you walk out your front door.

“Someone isn’t too happy about me having to bring her home,” Dean tells you as he hands Abby over to you.

“No, Daddy!” Abby whines as she clings tightly onto Dean. “Please, Daddy.”

“Honey, you’ve gotta let Momma take you but I’ll see you in class, okay?”

“No,” she whines. “I want you to stay with me and Mommy.”

“Babygirl, I can’t,” Dean tells her as he leans in to kiss her. “Be good for Momma.”

“Okay,” Abby sniffs.

“I love you.”

Abby opens up her little mouth to say something, but then her little face scrunches up and a high-pitched whine escapes her as she begins to cry.

“Oh, please don’t cry,” Dean tells her as his heart breaks.

“I’ll take her in and get her calmed down,” you tell Dean as you turn to walk inside.

“(Y/N),” Dean says as he reaches out to gently grab onto your arm. “Is everything okay?” he asks you softly. “I mean, do you need to talk about what you mentioned to me over the phone yesterday?”

“Not right now, Dean,” you tell him. “I need to get Abby calmed down first.”

“I understand,” Dean nods. “You said while ago that you couldn’t pick Abby up because you were having car trouble. Do you want me to look at it?”

“Maybe another day, Dean,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he nods. “Call me if you need me for anything though. Alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you tell Dean as you nod and give him a small smile. Dean gives you a sad smile as he reaches out to gently run a hand over Abby’s little head.

“Be good for Momma,” Dean tells her softly before he turns around to walk off.

“Abby, honey, please calm down,” you whisper softly to her as you carry her inside the house. “Daddy hat to go home, but Mommy’s got you now.”

“I know,” Abby whines as you walk over to sit down on the couch. “But I want Daddy too.”

“I know you do, baby, but Daddy doesn’t live here.”

“But he can,” Abby sniffs.

You pull Abby away a bit so that you can see her face. “Honey, I know that you wish that you could have me and Daddy both here with you but you have to understand that it can’t be that way.”

“But why not?”

You take a deep breath. “Abby, honey…”

“Do you love Daddy?”

“Abby…”

“Do you?”

There’s no way that you can lie to her with that look that she’s giving you. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “I do.”

“Then why can’t he live here and be with us, Mommy?”

“Abby, honey, it’s complicated.”

“Don’t say that just because you don’t want me to ask.”

“Abby, you know that you can ask Mommy anything that you want,” you tell her truthfully. “It isn’t that I don’t want to answer you, baby, but I don’t want Daddy to think that I only told him about you because I want anything from him. Do you understand?”

Abby shrugs her little shoulders a bit at you. “I guess so.”

“Look at me, honey,” you tell her softly. “Before you were born, me and Daddy were in love with each other.”

“You were?” Abby asks you as her little eyes widen a bit at you.

“We were,” you say and you smile softly at her. “When Mommy found out about you I had to keep it a secret from Daddy.”

“Why? Were you afraid that he wouldn’t love me?”

“Oh, no, sweetie,” you tell her softly as you gently push some of her hair out of her face. “When I found out that I was pregnant with you, I knew that Daddy would love you so much. But my Dad thought that I was going to ruin Daddy’s life if I told him about you.”

“Am I that bad?”

“No, babygirl, but me and Daddy were still kids ourselves and your Daddy had so many things that he wanted to do and if I had told him about you then he would have pushed aside all of his dreams to be with us.”

“You didn’t want him to be with us?”

“Of course I did, Abby. Honestly, I wanted so bad to tell Daddy about you and yet I let my parents talk me out of it,” you tell her. “I don’t want Daddy to think that I told him about you just to make him want me or something. I don’t want him to think that I’m using you to try and get him to be with me.”

“Daddy won’t think that, Mommy.”

“Abby, honey, this is just how things have to be for right now.”

Abby huffs at you and she crosses her little arms at you. “Mommy.”

“Please do not argue with me about this, babygirl,” you tell her. “Mommy has a headache and I know that you’re upset about this but there’s nothing that I can do about this.”

“Call Daddy and tell him that you love him.”

“Did you not listen to anything that I just told you?” you ask her.

“Yeah, but I…”

“Abby, please drop it,” you beg her.

She pouts at you. “I want Daddy.”

“I know you do, baby,” you tell Abby softly as you pull her in and hold her tightly to you. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Abby sniffs. You press a kiss to her head before standing up off of the couch with her.

“What do you say you and me go pick out some junk food and a good movie, then curl up on the couch and have a movie night?”

“Okay,” Abby nods, perking up a bit at the thought. “Hey, Mommy?”

“What, sweetie?”

“Me and Daddy made a fort and we slept in it!”

You fake a gasp as you pull away a bit so that you can see her face. “You didn’t.”

“We did!” Abby giggles.

“Well, I bet Daddy’s forts are nothing like mine and yours.”

“No,” Abby smiles at you. “They’re better.”

“You little traitor!” you laugh. Abby lets out a loud squeal as you tickle her while you carry her into the kitchen. Abby smiles widely at you as you sit her down onto the kitchen counter.

“Mommy?”

“What, babygirl?”

Abby takes a deep breath. “I understand why we can’t talk about it.”

You give her a soft smile. “It isn’t that we can’t talk about it, Abby, but I don’t feel like it right now, okay? Mommy’s just thankful that she doesn’t have to do this by herself. I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.”

“Okay,” Abby nods.

“And I understand why you’re upset about it,” you tell her truthfully. “I know that you love your Daddy.”

“A lot,” Abby tells you softly as her little eyes light up.

“We’ll figure this out, okay?” you tell Abby as you lean over to press a kiss to her head. “I know that it’s a little different now that you won’t always be with me, but we’ll be okay.”

“I know, Mommy,” she smiles.

You turn to open up one of the cabinet doors, taking the opportunity to let a few of your tears fall down your cheeks. They’ve been hanging on for dear life ever since you started talking to Abby, because you don’t know if everything is actually going to be okay or not.

Tags: @polina-93 @campingmonkey @justanotherwinchester @squirrelnotsam @adoptdontshoppets @imaginationisgrowth @deanwanddamons @hobby27 @cookiechipdough @akshi8278 @flamencodiva

#spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #keeping secrets #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #daddy!dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN #fanfic

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years

Text

Day 25: Bless You

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Without Dean's knowledge, YN gets the family a gift that Dean can't really enjoy.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing

A/N: Day 25 of my writing challenge! *Bayley & Haley are the twin girls' names* No hate on any SPN Cast/Character. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

December One Shots Masterlist

At 5:00am, YN and Dean's bedroom door squeaked open. Bayley slowly walked into the room followed by Haley. When they got to the foot of the bed, they nodded to each other and climbed up.

Bayley crawled over to YN while Haley went for Dean. The girls shook their parents' shoulders to wake them up.

"Mommy! Mommy! Get up! Santa came!" Bayley shouted at her sleeping mother.

YN groaned and looked up, "What time is it?"

Dean copied her groan and looked at the clock, "5:02am."

"Daddy, come on. Get up," Haley whined, "It's Christmas!"

Dean sat up and stretched, "Okay, okay. I'm up. You two go downstairs. Mommy and I will be there in a second."

Bayley and Haley jumped down from the bed and ran out of the room in a fit of giggles. Dean turned to his wife, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. She chuckled and rolled over to face him.

"Good morning, beautiful," Dean whispered to her.

"Morning," she yawned, "You know, I used to love waking my parents up this early for Christmas. And now I know how they felt."

Dean chuckled, "I know, I did it too. But if you get up, I'll make coffee and we can unwrap presents."

When he said presents, YN gasped and sat up, "Oh, I totally forgot!"

"Forgot what?" he asked.

She stepped out of the bed and grabbed her robe, "There was a present I couldn't exactly wrap, so I left it in the garage," she grabbed her slippers and bolted out of the room while yelling, "Just meet me in the living room!"

Dean sat in the bed extremely confused at YN's sudden burst of energy. He shrugged it off and stood from the bed. He grabbed his own robe and slippers, and put them on.

As he left the bedroom, he closed the door behind himself and stretched a little more. He slowly descended the stairs, smiling as he listened to his girls' laughter and chatter coming from the living room.

He walked into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. While he was getting mugs for himself and YN, he watched her walk in from the garage with a large box. It wasn't wrapped and it had holes all around it.

"What in the world is that?" he asked her.

"Shh, Dean," YN glared at him, "It's a Christmas present. And we're all going to open it once you get your ass in the living room."

"Well do you want coffee or not?"

"I think I'm awake enough without it for now. Come on!"

Dean groaned as he followed YN into the living room. They walked over and sat down together on the couch. YN set the large box on the ground.

"Girls, we need to open this one first," she said to her daughters.

"Why this one, Mommy?" Bayley asked.

YN glanced to Dean, "Because this is a family present. Something Santa brought all of us. But we have to open it together."

Bayley and Haley stood and ran over to their parents. Dean's eyes never left YN, wondering what was up her sleeve. Everyone put their hands on the box and were ready to open it.

YN looked between her daughters and Dean, "All right, on the count of 3. 1...2...3!"

They pulled open the top of the box. The squeal and cheering from the girls let YN know this was a great idea. The concern from her husband, however, made her wonder what was going on in his head.

"A kitty?!" Haley asked, "We got a kitty!?"

"Yes. She's the new addition to the Winchester family," YN explained.

Bayley lifted the kitten out of the box, "She's so cute and fluffy!" she looked at her mom, "What's her name?"

YN chuckled, "Well, that's for you two to decide."

Dean cleared his throat, "YN, can we talk in the kitchen for a moment?"

He abruptly stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. YN rolled her eyes and followed her husband to the kitchen.

Dean stood leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, "YN, what the hell!?" he whispered.

"What?" she questioned him, "You said we needed some kind of pet in the house, Dean."

"Yes. A dog, a bird, hell I'd even take a Guinea pig. But a cat?!"

YN shrugged, "What's wrong with a cat? They're easy to take care of, they're great pets, they're so sweet and fluffy and cute-"

"You're totally glancing over the fact that I'm allergic," Dean interrupted her.

"I know you say you are, but you've never been around cats," YN crossed her arms, "How do you know you haven't outgrown it?"

Dean groaned and stormed out of the kitchen. YN watched him walk over to the girls and take the cat from their arms. He walked back into the kitchen with the cat laying on his arm.

YN stood there and watched him, "What are you doing?"

"Just wait," he stared at her.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither Dean or YN moved a muscle. The cat purred in Dean's arms, which made a smile form on YN's face.

"Awe, she loves you Dean," YN said, "And see? I knew you had outgrown-"

YN was interrupted when Dean bent over with a sneeze. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. The cat was wide awake in Dean's arms now and no longer purring.

"Okay, so maybe not," YN winced.

"Told you," he sniffed, "I'm sorry, YN, but we can't keep the cat."

Bayley peeked her head into the kitchen, "What? We can't keep her?"

"But she was a gift from Santa," Haley said.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Girls, I'm sorry. I know you love her, but-"

"Daddy, Santa brought her as a gift for Christmas," Haley crossed her arms.

"And he said he was for the family," Bayley her sister's stance.

YN bent down to her daughters, "Well, girls, sometimes the gifts from Santa don't work out well."

"But he's Santa Claus, Mommy. He always gets the perfect gifts. He knows everything," Haley argued.

"Apparently he didn't know that Daddy was allergic," Dean mumbled under his breath before bending over with another sneeze.

YN took a deep breath and sighed, "Bayley, Haley, I'm sorry. But Daddy is really allergic to cats. Which means we can't keep the kitten."

Bayley whined, "But, Mommy-"

"No buts, baby girl. Maybe tomorrow we can take her to a shelter and pick out a puppy instead," YN suggested.

"No, we don't want a puppy!" Haley yelled, "We want the kitty!"

YN groaned, "Girls-"

Bayley ran up to Dean, "Please, Daddy? Can't we keep her?"

"Yeah, Daddy," Haley ran over to the other side of him, "She's a Winchester. We have to keep her."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Girls, we can't-"

Bayley interrupted him, "Please?"

Haley tagged along, "Pretty please?"

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Oh, and a cherry on top?"

Bayley and Haley brought out their puppy eyes, pouted their lips, and whined a bit for good measure. YN looked between the girls and Dean, chuckling at the sight in front of her.

She slowly watched as Dean's cold, icy heart was melting away at their daughters' cuteness. Normally Dean could stand his ground and say no to his daughters' puppy faces, but not when his wife also gets involved.

YN pouted her lips and bat her eyelashes at Dean, "Come on, Dean. You can't say no to these faces, can you?"

Dean looked between YN, Bayley, and Haley, "You're not going to get me this time."

Then he looked down at the kitten in his arms. She looked up at him and gave the tiniest little meow he had ever heard.

And he broke.

"Fine! We can keep the cat," he groaned, "I'm going to regret this."

Bayley and Haley cheered and danced around the kitchen. YN leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek. She took the kitten from his arms and handed her back to their daughters.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Bayley and Haley said in unison as they ran back to the living room.

Dean turned to his wife, "How am I supposed to be the tough parent when you three gang up on me like that?"

YN shrugged, "I have no idea what you're talking about, babe," she pointed to the living room, "Shall we open the rest of the presents?"

"Sure," Dean replied as he bent over with another sneeze.

She walked back to the living room with Dean right behind her. They sat down on the couch and watched as the girls began to tear into their other presents.

A half hour later, there was wrapping paper everywhere and the girls were overjoyed with their gifts. Dean and YN also exchanged their gifts while their daughters opened their own.

While everyone opened their gifts, Dean excused himself to the bathroom for a few minutes. He walked back to the living room with a tissue box in hand.

He fell back on the couch and rubbed his eyes, "This sucks."

"I know honey, and I'm sorry," YN kissed his cheek.

He turned to her, "It's okay. As long and the girls are happy and you're happy, then I'll always be happy."

"I love you," YN said to her husband.

Dean smiled at her, "I love you, too."

YN looked at her girls, "Did you decide on a name for the kitten yet?"

"We're thinking Angel," Bayley answered.

"Because she's our little angel just like how Bayley and I are Daddy's little angels!" Haley giggled.

YN chuckled, "I think that's perfect, girls," she turned to her husband, "You know, honey, this might be my favorite Christmas ever. We really are blessed."

Dean suddenly ripped a tissue from the box and bent forward with a loud sneeze, causing everyone in the room to jump.

He groaned as he looked up at his wife, "I don't feel very blessed right now."

YN smiled and kissed his cheek, "Bless you."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @smollestbean-2 @kitwithnokat

@idksupernatural @desiredposion @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma

@spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@emery--nicole--morrison @spnfamily-j2 @akshi8278 @avocadogirl216

@imthedoctorlove @wecantgiggleitsafandom

#spn #supernatural #Dean Winchester #Dean #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #CherryBlossomWritingChallenge

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years

Text

Bunnies

“Bunnies for Sale,” the sign read as Dean and Cas walked up to the little stand, two young girls sitting in front of it. Cas’ face erupted in a bright smile as he gazed at the furry little creatures. Dean grinned at seeing his best friend so happy. It had been a few weeks since Dean had seen Cas smile like that.

Cas had broken up with his boyfriend of three years after walking in on him fucking another man. When he had shown up on Dean’s doorstep with two suitcases and tears pouring down his cheeks, Dean didn’t hesitate to usher him inside. They had spent the night on the couch, Cas curled up in Dean’s arm while Dean told his best friend of over twenty years all the ways that Balthazar didn’t deserve him.

It had killed Dean to see Cas so distraught but a small, dark part of him had been thrilled. He had harbored a secret crush on Cas for years but had always been to chicken to say anything. When he had finally mustered up the courage to tell Cas how he felt, Cas had come home that same day and gushed about his new, hot British boyfriend. Putting his own pain aside, Dean had listened like the best friend he was and congratulated Cas on his new relationship.

Cas had been single for nearly a month now, but Dean knew he was still hung up on Balthazar. While he had assured Dean multiple times that he had no desire to get back together, Cas missed being in a relationship. He missed the intimacy and companionship a relationship offered. Ever since he broke up with Balth, he had been plastered to Dean’s side even more than when they were bright-eyed kindergartners.

Dean was reveling having his friend around all the time, but it was slowly driving him mad. His heart kept saying Cas was his even though his brain knew better. All the constant arguing between the two had left Dean feeling exhausted and strung too thin.

Dean was shaken from his thoughts when Cas jiggled his arm to get his attention. Dean shook his head and flashed a sheepish smile at his friend. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What now?”

Cas glared at him but said, “I asked if it would be possible for me to get a bunny. It’s your apartment I’m staying in and I would never bring another living thing in without your permission.”

Dean wanted to say no; he wasn’t a huge animal person. He was sure having a bunny would be a messy and smelly ordeal that he really had no desire to deal with. He also couldn’t tell his best friend no when Cas looked at him with big blue puppy dog eyes. He dragged his hand down his face and groaned. “If you really want one, you can get one of the little fluff butts.”

Dean’s heart melted at Cas’ gummy smile. “Oh, thank you, Dean. Will you help me pick one out?”

“Sure, Cas,” Dean replied with a sigh.

They stared into the box and saw seven baby bunnies were curled up in a pile. All the rabbits were solid black, brown, or gray. There were also two bunnies lying next to each other in the opposite corner of the other seven. These two rabbits had a much different coloring than the other seven. One was white with large black splotches and the other was white with multiple brown spots.

“Oh, Dean, look at those two,” Cas cried as he pointed to the two lone bunnies.

“Yeah, those two are best friends and can’t be separated. You have to take both of them as they get really depressed when forced apart,” one of the girls explained.

“Dean,” Cas said softly.

Dean rolled his eyes as he glanced at his friend. “You want those two, don’t you?”

“Only if you don’t mind,” Cas answered with a nod.

Dean picked the black and white bunny up and couldn’t help but smile at the twitching nose. “This one is really cute.” He looked at the girls. “Do you know if they are boys or girls?”

“Those two are girls.”

Dean trailed his finger softly through the bunny’s thick fur. He noticed the rabbit had blue eyes and was reminded of a certain person he was in love with. “We’re calling this one Angel,” he declared.

Cas tilted his head. “Angel, I like it.” He picked the brown and white rabbit up and nuzzled its forehead. “I’m going to name this one Chevy.”

“That’s kind of an odd name, Cas,” Dean pointed out.

Castiel shrugged. “Yeah, but she reminds me of someone who means a great deal to me. Someone who has been there for me through thick and thin. Someone who I recently realized I have very strong feelings for.”

Dean felt his heart wither and die at Cas’ words. He had been hoping to tell Cas the truth about his feelings once his friend had had enough time to get over Balthazar. It seemed Cas was ready far sooner than Dean had anticipated, and he had missed his chance once again. He held the bunny in his hands closer to his chest as he fought back tears. “Oh, that’s great that you’re over Balth. I told you he didn’t deserve you and I’m glad you took my advice for once. I, uh, can’t wait to meet this new person.”

Cas set the bunny back in the box before taking a step closer to Dean. “I can’t tell if you’re really that clueless or you just don’t feel the same way.”

Dean nearly dropped the rabbit. He hastily plopped it back in the box next to her friend and then looked at Cas wide eyed. He licked his suddenly dry lips and tried to stop his hands from shaking. “Cas, please, tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Cas took another step closer to Dean, their faces mere inches apart. He reached out and wound his fingers with Dean’s as he stared into the forest depths he had come to love. He smiled tenderly at Dean as he said, “It’s you, Dean. You’re the person I have really strong feelings for. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize it.”

“I’m sorry for being a chicken and not telling you years ago when I realized just how strong my feelings for you were. The truth is, Cas, I’m in love with you,” Dean admitted, his stomach in knots.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m in love with you too,” he whispered before leaning forward and gently touching his lips to Dean’s.

Dean whimpered as Cas’ chapped lips pressed against his. Even though the kiss was brief, it was the best kiss Dean had ever experienced. Cas pulled away and chuckled as Dean chased after him. Dean blushed in embarrassment. He jerked back quickly, looking at the ground as he said, “Uh sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so brief.”

Cas placed his fingers under Dean’s chin and forced his gaze up. He smiled at Dean, light sparkling in his eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with it. Would you like to kiss again?”

Dean didn’t answer, instead he wrapped his palm around Cas’ neck and pulled him forward until their lips met. The kiss was just as sweet as the first as their lips moved against each other. When they broke apart, Dean started laughing.

Cas frowned, “Was it that bad?”

“No,” Dean chuckled. “I just can’t believe we got together because of bunnies. What kind of rom com shit is this?”

Cas rolled his eyes as he pulled Dean in for another kiss. “It’s the best kind of rom com shit because I ended up with you.” They also ended up with two new rabbits as well, but how could they leave them behind? Chevy and Angel were the reason they finally got together, after all.

Tagging: @lonewolf34500 @notwithd @multifandom-fanatic @flowersforcas @cockleslovesdestiel

#writersmonth2020 #My writing #my OTP #destiel #bunnies #first kiss

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deansmom · 4 years

Text

2k of post 15.19 fic where Cassie works a case with them. (ao3)

Cassie pokes his ankle with her boot, startling Dean out of his post-case haze.

He jumps a little and barely misses hitting his head on the trunk, “Shit, hey, you, uh-“

Dean laughs, shifting nervously, suddenly feeling like a kid again. It’s not like it was back then, or even when he came back with Sam a couple years later, but Cassie still has that effect on him. Makes him feel off-balance, like he’s got something to prove. Someone to impress.

She smiles, clearly resisting the urge to laugh at his panic, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Dean guffaws, “Whaaat? Me? Scared?” He brings a hand up to his neck, trying to feign a casualness he hasn’t felt since she walked into their case a couple days ago.

Thankfully, like she always has, Cassie takes pity on him and saves Dean from being an idiot.

“You know, I never really thought you’d settle down,” she says, her tone gentle, like she doesn’t want to scare him away.

Dean tries to lean against the Impala but his hand misses, and he barely catches himself so he doesn’t slam his face into the car.

“Me?” He tries once his feet are under him again, “I don’t know if I’d call this settling down.”

Cassie rolls her eyes, smiling, “We both knew you were never going to be a ‘white picket fence, 2.5 kids, wife, dog and a minivan’ kind of guy.”

Dean huffs, shaking his head, “I tried that once.” He offers her a small smile, “Didn’t stick.”

“But he did,” Cassie asks after a moment, nudging her head towards where Cas is standing across the field.

He’s talking to the victim while Sam deals with the cops. He’s kneeling down in front of the kid, and it’s clear from Castiel’s posture that he’s trying to comfort him.

It makes Dean’s chest ache with something he hasn’t put a word to yet.

“Yeah...” Dean chuckles quietly, “He did.”

When he looks back at Cassie, she’s got that same goopy smile Sam usually has when he’s talking about Eileen.

Dean shifts nervously, feeling self-conscious, “What?”

She grins at him, laughing, “I’m really happy for you, Dean. Love looks good on you.”

The tips of his ears turn pink and he shoves his hands into his coat pockets, embarrassment coloring his whole demeanor.

“It’s, uh...” he licks his lips, “It’s not -“

Cassie levels him with a look that’s clearly supposed to mean ‘I’m not stupid, Dean.’

He feels 19 again.

Cassie was his first real love, and she was the first person who ever... saw him. Saw Dean for what he was - who he was - and called him out on his bullshit, didn’t let him get away with pushing her away because he was scared. She was the first person who ever took the time to get to know who Dean was as a person. Not Dean as a hunter or a son or a big brother, but as a person.

She was the first one to get him to admit out loud that maybe he liked Harrison Ford in a more than hero worship way.

There’s no point in lying to her, not about this.

So, Dean laughs at himself, because he’s a grown man who shares his bed with Castiel more nights than he doesn’t, but he’s still too scared to say it back.

“I haven’t told him yet,” he finally says. “I... I, uh. I’ve never really said it.”

Cassie smiles, coming closer to lean against the Impala with him, “You said it to me.”

Dean turns just enough to smile at her, apologetic, “I knew I was going to leave eventually.”

She mirrors the look he’s giving her and shrugs, “I know. But you meant it.”

And he did. Some part of him will probably always love Cassie.

Dean squeezes her hand for lack of anything better to say, because he’s not sure if he could ever apologize enough.

“You deserve it, you know,” she says after a few minutes. “You deserve to be happy. To have someone to come home to after you save the world again...” Cassie squeezes his hand back, “Someone to be there for you, like you are for everyone else.”

Something about the way she says it makes tears start to pool in Dean’s eyes.

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, for people to actually care about him. Not because they have to, but because they just do.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice cracking. “He does. He is.”

They’re not perfect, obviously.

Hell, Cas just came back from the dead for the umpteenth time and their kinda-kid is God. They’ve hurt each other more than anyone else has. They’re not always there for each other, even when they’ve wanted to be. The universe seems to do everything it can to keep them apart.

But the fact that Cas hasn’t pushed him since he came back… The fact that Cas hasn’t pushed him once in the last ten years they’ve known each other, he’s just -

“We’re trying,” Dean sighs. “Still figuring out how to do this.”

Cassie huffs, “Relationships are hard. You should’ve seen me when Jake proposed.”

Dean turns to look at her, thankful for the distraction, “You run?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves him gently.

“Please Dean, some of us do know how to process our emotions.”

The EMT’s are about to pack their victim up, and Cas is standing up to show them his FBI badge.

Cassie sighs, “I was scared. He knows everything about me... I’m not used to people having the power to hurt me.”

And yeah, that makes sense. Cassie was always good at knocking Dean off balance, making him be honest, but she was very good at playing shit close to the chest.

Dean wasn’t even sure that she liked him back the first two times they hooked up.

“I didn’t run, but I might as well have,” she amends after a moment. “I said yes, and then I went out of town for a couple days… didn’t answer my phone. Didn’t talk to him for like a week."

That though, that doesn’t really sound like the Cassie he knows.

Dean turns completely, facing her even though she’s still looking out across the field.

“So what’d you do?”

She smiles, her eyes going soft with the memory.

“I told him that I was scared… I loved him, and I wanted to marry him, but I was scared.”

Cassie sighs, shifting against the Impala, “He was hurt at first, you know… girl you’ve been with for years tell you that she’s scared to marry you – kinda shitty.”

Dean huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“But we talked,” she starts again after a moment. “He reminded me that getting married wasn’t going to change anything about our relationship. Who we are, together and apart… it wouldn’t change with a marriage license.”

Somewhere in the distance, there’s fireworks going off.

It feels like the world settles for a few moments before Dean hears his own voice.

“I’ve been trying to tell him for years… I’m, y’know,” he smiles at Cassie. “Not really good at the romance thing.”

Again, she rolls her eyes. “You were good at it with me.”

Dean ducks his head, feeling shy, “Yeah, but…”

“It’s different,” Cassie finishes for him, so he doesn’t have to say it. “High stakes.”

He can’t help himself, Dean snorts.

“Yeah, well, I’m not 20 anymore… kinda hoping that if we do this, that, y’know –“ The words get caught in his throat for a moment, a little too big and too honest to say out loud.

“That he sticks?” She offers.

“Yeah… and that I’m…” His face contorts, not sure where this is coming from. “Enough. That I’m worth it, I guess.”

Cassie sighs, turning to look Dean in the eye, but he hasn’t stopped looking at his boots.

“Hey, Winchester. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he does. She’s smiling at him, and Dean’s heart melts a little.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Dean. You’re allowed to have good things, to love someone. Get out of your own head and maybe you’ll see what the rest of us do.”

Dean wants to run away from the conversation, because he knows all of this – knows how Cas looks at him, knows what Cas would do for him, what he’d do for Cas, even. And still, he just feels like any minute now somebody’s going to rip the rug out from under him.

One of them is gonna die again. Cas is going to realize this was all a terrible mistake, and he doesn’t love Dean. Cas is going to be called back to heaven and never want to return. Dean’s going to say something to fuck it up, to scare him off, to hurt him again.

Sam had tried talking to him about this the other day.

Had tried reminding Dean that there’s always going to be another shoe waiting to drop, somebody waiting in the wings to do the rug thing. Tried reminding him that Cas is never going to leave him again.

It didn’t really work.

Cas finally walks up next to them before Dean has to come up with a response. He offers them a smile, “Cassie, thank you for all your help with this case. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

He sounds so damn earnest, so fucking sincere, and Dean kinda loves him.

She offers Cas a genuine smile, “Aw Castiel, you sweet talker.” Cassie shrugs, feigning modesty, “It was nothing. Finding this case in the papers, tracking down Dean’s number, basically handing you guys a solved case on a platter…”

Dean rolls his eyes, finally standing up straight again, “Yeah, yeah, you’re awesome, we suck.”

He offers Cas a small, private smile, and there are most definitely not butterflies when it’s returned.

Cassie is laughing at him when Sam comes back over finally, the two of them falling into a conversation about how she found all this information out.

Dean pulls Cas over to the driver’s side with him by the coat sleeve, trying to be casual about it.

Judging by the way Cassie meets his eye with a wink and offers to show Sam the database on her laptop, which is in her car, it wasn’t very casual.

Castiel follows easily, because of course he does, and Dean’s chest swells.

“Hey,” Dean finally says when his back is against the car again.

Castiel smiles, his whole face softening, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean drops his hand from the sleeve into Castiel’s waiting, open hand and harrumphs, “How’s the kid?”

If he’s surprised at the open display of affection, he doesn’t show it.

“He’s alright,” he offers with a sigh. “Traumatized more than anything.”

Dean snorts, squeezing Castiel’s hand, “I’d say that’s good, but.” It’s not.

Castiel takes a step forward, the toes of their shoes bumping together now, “Are you alright?”

Something howls off in the distance. The last of the patrol cars are pulling out of the field too, the night seeming to come to life around them.

“Yeah, I…” Dean frowns, finally looking back up at Cas, “Just… you know, right?”

Oh great, real romantic Dean.

Castiel just squints at him, the rest of his expression carefully blank, “I… know many things. Are you referring to something specific…?”

It’s a joke. It’s a dumb, stupid, dry as the fucking Sahara joke, and it startles a laugh out of him.

Dean can’t take his eyes off of Cas, not when the moon is hitting him like that.

Something occurs to Dean and it feels like getting slammed in the chest.

“You know that I love you,” he manages to choke out, somewhere between a statement and a question.

“…Right?”

Instead of answering like a normal person, Castiel leans forward, pulling Dean into a kiss.

He thinks that it was maybe supposed to be a gentle kiss, a little slower and less intense, but Dean’s got tears in his eyes and a streetlight pops nearby by the time they pull apart.

“Yes,” he finally says. “Yes, Dean, I know that you love me.”

It takes a beat for his body to gather enough air to speak again, “Uh…” Dean clears his throat, the hand that had previously found its way into Cas’s jacket falling to his waist. “Good. Just… checking.”

#mackenzie attempts fics #spn fic #deancas fic #spndeancas #deancas #otp: cursed or not #personal

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

When You Are The King of Gotham

Part 4

Summary: puddles and cupcakes

She rested her cheek on her hand as she colored. Looking out the window, a small pout formed on her little mouth, it had been raining all day. Her mommy was in bed with her cold whatever that was. She didn’t look cold under all those blankies. Rommmmy, was too busy ‘maping something out’ to play and daddy was screaming in the phone all day. Maybe if she got everything on daddy would come and play.

She pushed herself off the floor and went over to her closet. She knew they always wanted her to be warm, so going on her tip toes she grabbed a sweater, a shirt came down but she had one of those on already. She’d let that stay there. Maybe she would wear it later. Daddy always said one has to dress right and playing in the rain and that shirt was not right.

Pushing, up the sleeves she found her raincoat, after a couple of tries it was on. Crawling into her closet, she found her boots. Sitting down she pulled on one and then the other she fell back pulling on the second one. Rubbing, her head she got up.

She turned to Winnie the Pooh, “You have to stay here.” She patted him on the head. Walking down the hall, she heard her daddy and went to his big room.

“Carmine, I told you we have make sure that shipment doesn’t get to Metropolis, damn it.”

She peeked in, and giggled, he was making a silly face. Walking over, she tugged on his arm.

“Daddy, daddy.”

“Oh!” He saw her then and a huge smile spread across his face. “Hi princess what are you all dressed up for?” Moments, later, turning away from her, he growled and she giggled, stepping back. She didn’t know why he made his Mr. Bear sounds on the phone. “I am talking to my little girl.” He sighed. “I have to go. You just make sure that the delivery stays here in Gotham.”

******

Getting up, he put his phone down. “Now baby why are you all dressed up to go outside?”

“Because I want to play, daddy.” She rocked on her little feet.

His heart melted. “Alright, pumpkin. Let daddy get dressed.” He lowered her hood. “Go and grab yourself a cookie.”

“Ok, daddy.”

As he watched her toddled off, he poked his head into Romy’s room. He smirked before knocking on the door frame. He found him kneeling in his chair while hanging over his desk.

“Romy, want to come and play in the rain?”

Romy, he looked at him. “Really, dad?”

“You little sister and I are.”

“I am still working on the plans for mom’s birthday.”

“Really?” He came in an looked at what he had scribbled down. Looked like he had a good list so far.

He nodded. “Yeah, dad. Gotta make sure we got good singers for the club and mom’s favorite foods.”

Roman, lifted a hand. “Good job buddy, we can go over them when I get back.”

“Ok, dad.”

He was still shaking, his head when he came into the bedroom. He grimaced. “Hi baby. How are you feeling?”

You sighed. “I should be better soon!” You held up a book. “My book is really good.”

He smiled. “That’s good.” He wagged a finger. “You better be! You birthday is in a little over a week.” He said, softly.

“I’ll be better by then, I promise.”

He squeezed, your hand. “I better get dressed or our little princess will get upset.”

“What are you two up to?”

“We’re going to go and play in the rain.”

“Really?”

He nodded, while pulling on a sweater. “It’s what the princess wants.”

“You love her so much.”

He beamed and pulled on some rain-boots. “I do, you gave me such beautiful children.”

“They are awfully cute.”

He smiled. “They are.” Going over, he knelt down and kissed the top of your head. “Take it easy, and we’ll be back soon.”

*****

Holding, his little princess’s hand he walked her over to the park. She jumped in puddles, fed some of the ducks and twirled about.

He stood back watching, damn how did he get so lucky. She was so sweet and cute. Watching, her with the baby ducks melted his heart.

He held, out a hand. “Princess, daddy has an idea.”

“Ok, daddy.” She came running and hopped right into a puddle near him. “Oh! Sorry daddy.”

“Don’t worry baby, let’s jump into this one.” And together they hopped and skipped in and out of puddles

*****

Roman, stopped by your favorite florist. He grabbed a bouquet of sunflowers to brighten your mood.

“I am going to need you to help me pick out some cupcakes for mommy, princess.”

“Ok, daddy. Can I have one?” Her eyes twinkled.

“Of course.”

*****

“Do you want the pink one with the cherry sweet pea?” He turned and she was not there. “Princess, daddy needs you to pick out a cupcake.”

He looked around the bakery, “Sweetheart, this is not the time for hiding?”

Roman, bent over and looked high and low.

“Did you see where she went?” He tried not to bellow, after Ras’s gift he was able to control himself more, well most times.

The baker, shook their head. “No, she was right there, Mr. Sionis.” He grimaced.

He swallowed down the hot anger and fear that bubbled in him. A peal of laughter, followed by a squeal, made him look. There she was sitting, with a huge golden retriever who nuzzled and gave her licks. Oh, his baby was ok. Relief made him, lean heavily against the counter.

He sighed. “We’ll take that pink one, those two with strawberries too.” He pointed in the direction of his little girl.

“Go and grab her and I will pack the rest of these up.” The baker smiled.

“Baby, what are you doing?.” He finally rushed over to her. Quickly, he closed her umbrella and picked her up. Smiling, he closed his eyes when he felt her little arms wrap around his throat. Hugging her tightly to him, he pressed a kiss to one of her soft cheeks. He sighed against her little hood.

“But the doggie daddy.” She pointed to the dog.

He stopped with her on his hip. “We gotta go baby.” He turned toward the dog. He waved to the dog. “Say goodbye to the doggie, princess.”

She waved. “Bye doggie. Bye.” She waved.

******

You took a bite of the wonderful tiramisu cupcake and held it out to Roman. Gently, he put his hand over yours and took a bit. Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Baby, how do you do it?”

You gently ran your fingers through his wet strands. “Carefully, she has your curiosity and fearlessness, Romy too.”

He looked up, smiling. “She gets that from you too.”

You gave a gently smile and there was a clear twinkle there. He could see that you were well on your way of getting better. “Well, that’s why I’m your girl.”

He smoothed his hand against your cheek. He could the flush from the fever you had, was gone. That made him very happy. “After all that you and I went through.

“It wasn’t all bad.” You gave him the smile that he had adored since day one.

“Remember the purple hair?” He gently tugged on one of your strands.

“How can I forget.” You rolled your eyes. “Remember, our first trip to Las Vegas?”

Roman, smirked. “Now, that was a trip to remember.”

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @blondekel77 @thebeckyjolene @bdffkierenwalker @i-cant-hear-you16 @mrskenobi19

#when you’re the king of gotham #part 4 #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x y/n #roman sioinis #black mask x y/n #black mask x you #black mask x reader #bop #birds of prey #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask fanfiction #ewan mcgregor

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ain-t-bovvered · 5 years

Text

Bumpy Road to Love 15

EDITED & COLLABORATED with @waywardbaby ( a saint )

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Genre: 40s-50s Au. Singer/ Reader x veteran WWII/ Dean.

Warning: The story keeps going back and forth in the reader’s present and her past, and from joy and carefree to angst and angst and also angst

Disclaimer: the story takes place in the first years of WWII to the years right after, but I love the style and fashion of the 50s so some of the visuals and lifestyle will be not super time accurate, especially during the flashbacks, bear with it.

Catch up here : Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part9 Part10 Part 11 Part12 Part13 Part14

Masterpost

flashbacks are in italics

15.

I open my eyes once again, for the millionth time, because I want to make sure I'm not dreaming. The first light that is so insolently creeping in the room is a sign that the day is about to start. The day that just a few hours ago seemed so far away, is now here. Making its presence known. Alerting me to the ugly truth that I've been trying to ignore.

She’s sleeping, her face and body turned towards me the way I'm turned towards her. I can feel her breath on my face. Her eyelashes are resting against her cheeks which are still flushed. Her lips are half open and deliciously swollen, inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm. My eyes follow the curve of her shoulder, travel down the line of her arm and stop at her palm which is resting on my chest. I hate the cotton sheet that's between our bodies and I wanna pull it aside and take her in my arms. I don't want any distance between us. Not when I know that soon, distance is all we're going to have. But at the same time, I don't want to wake her. No sooner than would be absolutely necessary.

So, I lay there perfectly still and look at her. I remember how her body fitted perfectly against mine. I hear my name spilling from her lips. I feel her skin under my fingertips. And the longer I stare at this perfect woman who's sleeping in my bed I can't help but wonder what exactly I have done right in my life to deserve her. She has gone against her mother's order to not be with a slob like me. She has thrown every rule, she grew up with, out the window so she could be here. She has given herself to me in complete trust. She has practically shouted a huge “fuck you” extending her middle finger to the world once again and followed her strong, fearless heart. And what have I offered her in return? The feeling that in a few hours I'm gonna leave her standing at the docks, waving a small hand towards someone who she may very well not see again. How I wish I could hold her in my arms and never let go. Keep her close to my heart so that she knows that it's beating just for her. Kiss her and make her feel how much I love her. My hand reaches out before I get a chance to control myself and brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead. Her eyelids immediately flutter open and for a second I see panic registering in her irises. My palm rests on her cheek and I smile at her. Her eyes clear up at once and she turns her head and kisses my palm. She inhales deeply and a deep sigh leaves her half parted lips.

“Good morning…” She whispers and moves a little closer so now her nose is almost touching mine.

She drapes her arm around my shoulder and I sense her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. I wanna tell her so many things but for the life of me, I can't find any words. I wanna beg her to forgive me for the pain I will cause her soon. I wanna shout at this fucked up world to go screw itself because I have found the love of my life and I can't let her go. Not when I haven't had time with her. When I haven't told her how much she means to me. When I haven't shown her that she's my lifeline, my source of strength, my purpose of living. I can't let her go. And although I know that I have to follow my orders and help people who are thousands of miles away, although I have to be strong and brave and fight in a war that is raging on the other side of the world, all I wanna do is be a coward and stay here. Hide in the locks of her silky hair. Drown in the pool of her eyes. Get lost in the path of her body and let others fight, protect, kill.

But the only thing I can do is stare in silence while I scream in utter desperation inside. I stare deep in her eyes and pray to everything that's holy to find the strength to not break down and cry. She pulls her body even closer to mine and she brushes her soft lips over mine. Her kiss is timid and slow. Careful and sad. She's covering my lips with hers ever so lightly, over and over again. “Hold me close.” She whispers while she's kissing me and my arm moves to her waist while her leg goes over my thigh. Our bodies are molded one against the other and I feel her warmth, smell her scent, taste her. And once again I realize exactly what I'll lose. What I'll leave behind. I have to tell her. Let her know what I feel, what she makes me feel, how scared I am. I have to tell her before it's too late. “Y/N…” I start and I'm pretty sure that I will have to look away as my eyes are fighting back all the unshed tears that have come and gone during the hours we've spent together. Tears that I have skillfully hidden from her but all of a sudden feel like I ton on my soul, weighing me down. But before I get the chance to continue, to make a fool of myself in front of the woman I adore, she places her small finger on my parched lips and whispers: “I know…”

“I know…” She repeats softly and kissing the bridge of my nose, she closes her eyes and whispers, “You have to go, I know.”

I almost let out a bitter laugh. Not quite what I had in mind but she’s right. I do have to go back to base and grab my stuff that I had already packed. Cradling her head between my hands I kiss her, and she sighs. Pushing her back gently is almost painful. I’m up quickly, paying no attention to the pull her body has over mine. I'm up before I fall into her sweet trap again. Hearing her little gasp I turn around only to grin when I see she has covered her eyes with a pillow. I'm sure she's blushing like a tomato under there, I snort and not wanting to stall too much, I locate and grab most of my stuff.

“I’m gonna go and take a quick shower, so you can -” looking around the room I grab her chemise and fold it on the chair near her side “- get partially dressed.”

I wait for her to peak from under her cover and relish in her crimson face as she gets a good look at me.

“Oh my gosh Dean, just get into the bathroom already!”

I laugh as the pillow hits my back.

The door closes behind me and I’m now facing my reflection. The laugh dies on my lips and the mask falls from my face.

My hands grab the sink, knuckles white and I squeeze. I'd rip the thing off the wall, smash it against the mirror that shows no pity to the fool looking into it. But I can't. So, I just stare back, angry.

“Don’t!” I threaten, “Get a grip!” Pushing myself away I get into the shower and under the cold jet like I couldn’t care less. I’m too used to it anyway.

I don’t have a lot of time and I don’t want to waste any of it so the shower is quick and efficient just like they taught me and in less than seven minutes I’m done. Cold and shivering I put on the shorts, starchy pants, the white t-shirt, shirt, socks and shoes in the all too familiar and quick by now way I've been doing it the past few weeks. I quickly dry my hair with a towel, take a quick glance in the mirror to check if I have to shave later and I open the bathroom door. The image in front of me stops me in my tracks and calms my angry and tormented soul.

There she is, barefoot, with only the baby blue, silky chemise on, looking out the window, bathing in the light of dawn, gold and pink colors dancing on her skin, giving her an eerie aura as the rays of the new sun dance in her tousled hair, creating a halo around her.

She’s hugging herself, back straight and posed as usual, like the proper lady she was brought up to be. I can’t see her face, but her hands squeezing her arms betray the way she must be feeling. Silently I walk up to her, embrace her from behind. My arms wrap around her creating a protective blanket, my hands cover hers and her head rests against my chest, fitting perfectly under my chin. That's when I feel her tension melting away. We stay like that, both looking out the window, silent, lost in our thoughts. The sun is rising in the distance, somewhere on our right bathing the world in its light. For the people of the town that is slowly awakening, the light of the new dawn symbolizes a new beginning. What do those fools really know? To me, to her, to us, the only thing it symbolizes is the beginning of the end. With every passing second, we both know that we must let go. I bend my head and kiss the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, lingering there, needing to soak up all her scent and carry it with me to the ugliness and dirt I'm going to be drowning in soon. “I love you,” I whisper against her skin. She raises her right arm and places it behind my head, keeping me close. Turning towards me, she kisses my left cheek and murmurs: “I love you more.” Somewhere in the distance, the tolling of a church bell signals the time and her arm falls limply at her side. She gracefully moves away from me and goes over to the small wooden table that's sitting in the corner of the room. Her small fingers trace the name on my dog tags that were dropped on it last night and letting out a small sigh she picks them up and comes to stand in front of me.

I bend my head down as she slides them around my neck. They clink together as they fall on my chest and they feel so much heavier than they did yesterday. Smiling weakly, she slowly buttons up my shirt and while I tuck it in, she turns to the side picking up the tie she had laid on the bed. Caressing the hard cotton she drapes it around my neck. With quick, skillful hands she ties it and smooths it down my chest.

I put on my garrison and she rises on her toes to adjust it.

“All done.” She says, her small palm resting against my cheek and I close my eyes as the weight of my duty is sinking down heavily to the pit of my stomach.

“I’ll see you at the docks in a couple of hours. Do you know how to get there?”

“I’ll grab a taxi.”

“Like a true city girl.”

“I adapt fast.”

“Yes, you do.”

She takes a step back and I’m cold again. My body, my heart, my soul. They all scream at the emptiness. With heavy steps I grab my jacket and walk to the door, my hand hesitating on the doorknob. I glance back and see her again. The light is coming in the room bright and merciless, illuminating her silhouette, making her look like an angel. My angel. The angel that's gonna guide me back.

“Couple of hours,” I say again.

“I’ll be there.” She promises.

The door closes behind me.

Cold and tired, I climb the last three steps to my apartment, swearing under my breath because I can’t find the damn keys in my purse.

“Ah-ah!” I rejoice when they are finally jingling in my hand but before I try to insert them in the lock, the door suddenly opens.

“Jesus Christ!” I jump back surprised.

“No, just Chuck.”

Pushing past him I shimmy out my humid coat and toss it near the door.

“Did you miss me that much, uh?” I say falling on the couch, toeing off my heels and massaging my calves. No answers. Uh, strange.

“I already ate so do you need me to make you something?” I have no energy to do any cooking but Chuck has had some pretty rough days.

“No…I’m fine.”

“Ok then, I’m just gonna lay here for a bit. Maybe we could have a nightcap later? Put on some records? I don’t know. What are you in the mood for?” I cover my eyes with my arm, trying to rest my head. Chuck’s still oddly silent. No stupid comebacks or jokes. I hear him shuffling around the room. Pacing back and forth. He sits down, clears his throat and then he’s up again, stressing me out.

“What’s up Chuck? Did you piss off the neighbor again?” Still nothing. “I swear if I have to flirt my way out an eviction again…” “Did you -” he starts strained and stops again.

I peak from under my arm. He’s standing a few steps from me, looking down, his arms crossed.

“Did I what?”

And he doesn’t respond.

“Chuck I’m tired. Come on. What happened?”

“Wait here,” he says before walking out of the room.

“You think I’ll get up after a full day on heels? Do you even know me?”

I light a cigarette and let the nicotine burn in my throat before exhaling slowly and watch the smoke swirl lazily over me. My mind keeps going back to the painful plunge it took earlier. There are two possibilities. I’m either extremely lonely or extremely horny. I let out an ugly giggle. I’m definitely both. No escape there. Not that I’d do anything about it, let’s be real. Just the thought of it makes me sick. Maybe I should get a pet or something. I should talk to Chuck about it. Maybe a dog? Nah they are too much of a hassle with our all over the place schedule. A cat? Bad idea. Chuck’s probably allergic. Or not. But he definitely looks like someone allergic to cats. Oh! Maybe a bird? Ah...it’ll probably die from smoke poisoning. What about a -

My train of thought gets interrupted by a rustling of papers.

I turn my head to the side and stare at the pile of letters landing on the coffee table.

Raising an eyebrow I look at Chuck’s face.

“...and?”

He sits on the lounge chair opposite me. Elbows propped on his knees, he stares at me.

“Are these all ?”

“...Yeah. What about them?”

“Y/N…”

“Oh please, don’t make a fuss about them. I know.” I say, suddenly feeling more tired. I close my eyes again.

“Y/N! Are these all the letters?”

“Jesus Chuck!” I blurt out harshly, “Yes, these are all. What the heck?!”

“Did you read them?”

Sighing, I take another puff of smoke, “Of course I did. A long time ago.”

“Are you sure?” He pushes.

“I know them by heart, Chuck.”

“...Alright.” He says softly and I sigh in relief that this matter is finally over. “...but -” I was wrong.

“What?!” I sit up and now I’m getting angry. “Listen, it’s painful. I don’t wanna go through all that again. I know I haven’t told you about my whole life, but I'm sure you have figured it all out by now, ok? Can we drop this, please? I’m tired.” He stares at me with sad eyes. Pity leaking out every pore. I hate it.

“No,” He says, tense. “No, we can’t.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it. So suit yourself.” I reply, bitterly, as I stand up, planning to go hide in my room.

He follows me, grabbing my wrist.

“Y/N…” He’s angry.

“Chuck, please.” A painful lump blocks my throat and my voice comes out broken.

“Sit down and let me explain.” Dragging me like I weigh nothing, he guides me to the chair. The old leather protests as I fall down on it, defeated.

“...Alright, whatever.”

He takes my cigarette away, putting it out in the half-empty glass on the table, sits on the edge of the table and gently takes my hands in his.

“So, these are the ones you read, right?” He says pointing with his hand at the opened letters scattered on the table.

I nod.

“What about those?”

I follow his gaze to the ones that look unopened. The ones that were tied with old ribbons.

“I don’t really care for my Dad’s business correspondence.”

“So...you didn’t even open them?”

“...No. Why would I? I didn’t even know those were there.”

“I think -” he looks at me strangely, his eyes gleaming, “I think you should.”

I tilt my head in confusion as he grabs the pile and drops it in my lap. I look down at them, and see they have been opened.

Looking at me, awkwardly, he scratches his head. “I took the liberty of opening them. I was curious and you said I could… anyway.”

“It's alright. I gave you permission. But why?”

“Oh Y/N…,” he says in a weak tone. “I think your parents made a big, big mistake.”

“Now you're scaring me Chuck. What do you mean?” He takes a deep breath and from his breast pocket he takes out a crumpled piece of paper. My breath speeds up and my heart clenches. I know what that is. I don’t want it but he pushes it in my hand.

I look down and stare at the chicken scratches.

Dear y/n

My vision swims.

The weather here sucks so bad. You can’t even imagine how friggin’ cold Belgium is. I hope you can read this because my hands are shaking. We are not dressed for winter and since we are close to the enemy line we can’t even hope to get some new supplies. I’m lucky my boots are in one piece.

Last night I was on patrol and everything was frozen. We couldn’t even start a fire to melt the frozen water to drink. I can’t remember the last time I had a hot shower, or simply a shower for that matter. One thing is certain. I’ll never take a bath for granted ever again. I swear even a dive in the murky river would be amazing right now.

Enough whining about the cold. I guess I’m just missing home, and you, and even Sammy. Can you believe it?

I don’t have a lot of time, we are moving soon. I’m scheduled to reach some little town whose name I can’t even pronounce. I forgot. We are close babe, we are so close we can almost taste it.

This nightmare will soon be over and I’ll be home.

See you soon.

Pvt Dean Winchester

90ID, Company B, 359th Infantry Regiment

90th Infantry Division

United States Army

I’m silent as I finish reading. My fingers grip the paper and the lump in my chest prevents me from breathing.

“This -” He starts, “- This is the last letter, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“You’ve never got any others after this?”

“I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“...Why do you think?”

“But -”

“Christ, Chuck! Do I have to spell it for you?”

“No, but listen -”

My body jerks into motion because I have never spelled it out loud. The walls close around me and I feel trapped. I just want to escape and drive off a cliff or something. He stops me firmly, pushing me back down.

“Did you write back?”

I avoid his eyes. He grabs my chin and makes me look at him.

“Did you?” He insists without mercy.

“Of course I did!” I scream. “For weeks and weeks! I never got anything back.”

“And his family?” He seems oblivious to my suffering and keeps pushing and asking, tearing me apart.

“ ...Never heard from them either.”

“ But let me understand…” he says confused. “They lived fairly close, right?”

“ Yeah, but I was not there. I had started college, remember? But I had left my new address in the next letters.”

He’s silent and I can see his brain working at full speed.

“I think your parents had something to do with it.”

My mind goes to a full stop. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m almost certain they intercepted the letters.”

“...W - what?”

“I don’t know how or why. Well, I can imagine why but that’s not the point.” He taps the packet of letters on my lap. “They kept these from reaching you and I suspect the ones you sent got lost …”

I stare at him.

“ If… if I’m right about it ...The battle he was getting ready for was a massacre. I heard about it while I was stationed in Holland. It was a disaster. It’s not uncommon for mail to get lost in a war zone and if you didn’t know where else to send telegrams and cards…well, it’s almost impossible they were delivered.” He takes a deep breath. “And if someone got injured, or worse captured, well ...the odds of receiving any mail is close to none...you understand what I’m saying?”

“...No, what...I don’t understand.” I reply and I'm not sure if I really don't understand or if I just don't want to understand.

“Y/N…” He takes my hand and places it on the letters. “This is not your father’s correspondence.”

I stare at his weak, hopeful smile and look down at my hand. I realize it’s trembling uncontrollably as the meaning and heaviness of his words are slowly sinking in.

“It is not…” He repeats, steadily and sure.

I stay motionless, something hot is burning in my spinning head. Something heavy crushes my chest. The pile of letters gets heavier as the seconds pass. Something ugly, something I forget I would ever have again rush through my blood.

Hope.

I don’t register when Chuck stands up. I don’t notice him leaving the room and coming back, putting a glass of water by my side. I don’t feel his hand squeezing my shoulder nor the light kiss he places on my head before leaving the room.

All of a sudden, everything around me gets darker and suffocating while I stare at the pile of hope I cradle in my lap.

I’m confused.

I’m -

I undo the loose knot slowly letting the ribbon fall to the side and grab one of the letters.

It’s dirty.

It’s dirty and short.

Y/N,

I don’t know when or if this will reach you.

We made it, we barely made it.

It was ugly, I’m not going to lie. We lost so many, babe. Our platoon almost got annihilated. The few of us that made it, are scattered. We have to regroup and hopefully, we’ll get some rest. I got hit but it’s nothing serious, don’t worry. Sadly, nothing that will get me a ride back home. Just my luck, am I right?

I’ll try to write to you as soon as I can. Everything is fucked up right now. Comms are not working well.

Pvt Dean Winchester

90ID, Company B, 359th Infantry Regiment

90th Infantry Division

United States Army

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

Dear Y/N,

It’s been a few weeks that I haven’t got any mail from you. Only some delayed ones from Sammy. I guess comms are still banged up. I hope to receive yours later.

We had some time to rest and medics patched us up well enough that we are on route again.

Morale is pretty low right now. We’ve got some new recruits and if you could just see them. They look like scared kids. They can barely stand a 12-hour march and keep their rifles clean. Tran still makes dumb jokes to try to lift the heavy feeling that’s been weighing on us. I mean ...they are stupid and they make me want to punch his stupid face but it helps, somehow.

One of my brothers here got hit on a suicide run. Son of a bitch got his ass saved by sheer, dumb luck. He’s fine but … I’m scared, y/n. I’m so scared and I can’t let that show. Those kids need to be sharp and ready.

I can’t let them down.

I can’t let you and Sam down.

We are moving out again. We are eating ground and I can feel my COs getting anxious to reach our position. The front is again closing in.

Pvt Dean Winchester

90ID, Company B, 359th Infantry Regiment

90th Infantry Division

United States Army

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

Next ones are a bunch of telegrams

Is your address the same. STOP. I got no mail. STOP.

-We moved. STOP. Follow new coordinates. STOP.

-Y/n please. STOP. Are my letters reaching you. STOP.

-I need to know. STOP.

-I can’t reach you. STOP.

-I miss you. STOP.

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

Hey sweetheart,

This, too, will probably get lost somewhere or I don’t know. You’ll probably get it and drop it somewhere, unopened. Don’t even know why I still do it. Writing to you. But I do it every chance I get. In the rain, in the snow and mud. It’s what keeps me grounded, it keeps me here, with my mind. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing it. In a couple of days we are moving near Bastogne, I think. Never been good at Geography. I’m not gonna lie, things don’t look great, and if I’m right, Merry Christmas and happy new year.

I don’t wanna be here. It’s cold and everything is covered in mud. Your nose would scrunch up in disgust, I can almost see it.

Jesus, I miss you on my lips. I miss you under my fingertips. I miss you in my soul.

The thought of you, the thought of coming back to you is what gets me through this madness. Through this hell we all believed was a noble cause. What colossal fools were we? I could go on rambling about this hell we’re all living in. But I won't. I just wish I could have had a minute more with you… at our spot. Under the stars. A minute more to taste your lips. To memorize the way your body molded against mine. The way you fit in my arms.

A minute more in that hotel room. To etch your eyes deeper in my heart. To sense your breath on my face…

But that's all wishful thinking, right now, I just hope you get this.

Pvt Dean Winchester

90ID, Company B, 359th Infantry Regiment

90th Infantry Division

United States Army

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

More telegrams.

-No news from you. STOP. Where are you. STOP.

-Sam can’t reach you. STOP.

-We are in [redacted]. STOP.

-I love you. STOP.

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

My hands shake as I open the last one. I look at it and everything is all over the place. Words canceled, some illegible, some are just plain scribbles. They make no sense at all. What happened?

Somewhere there’s a big patch of ink. The words are crooked or misspelled. I try to make sense of them.

Im fucked. My chest hurts so much. It’s hot. Its all hot. They keep waving stuff in my face and taking my tempratur. I can’t even keep the damn thing in my mouth, my chest is killing me. My heart is fucked. Most of the time I cant breath. No snow, I hate, shit I never know I could miss it. But I miss summer.

I dream about it . White fence sunny yard, grass stains on your skirt, kid laugh and youre on the ground with them. You look at me, upside down,flowers tangled in your hair and youre beautiful and- oh god, I want you on my lips and. I here your voice and youre here somewere youre a hudred miles away, youre right next to me sumthime.

fuck I wanna cry because it’s so- you are right there, I reach for you everytime I reach for you but I-

Everything fades,my chest feels like hell-

Samm tell her im sorrry-

I let the last letter fall to my feet.

He’s alive.

The docks are loud and crowded. I push people aside trying to find her in the sea of people hugging, crying, kissing, laughing. Everyone is saying their goodbyes. Some of them will be the last ones and the solemnity of it makes the lump in my throat painful.

“Y/N!” My mouth is dry as I try to call for her, neck straining to see over the sea of heads. In the corner of my eye, I see an arm waving to my right.

I make my way there, rudely. No one cares. We all have more important things to care about right now.

Finally, she emerges from behind a woman hugging her son with the pain only a mother knows.

She crashes into my arms out of breath, looking up at me with shiny eyes and red cheeks. I can tell she’s been running.

I grab her hand and guide her through the mass of people bumping into us left and right and after what seems like a marathon we finally reach the meeting point of my platoon.

We stand side by side as I let my duffle bag slide from my shoulder and drop at our feet.

I feel my head ready to explode, filled with all the things I want to tell her. I feel my heart pounding so hard that it's one step away from imploding. Why is fate so cruel? Why let you meet the person you know you want to spend the rest of your life with and then tear you apart? What deranged higher power finds all this pain and suffering amusing?

I steal a small peak towards her side. I see her chest rising and falling more quickly by the minute. I see her hand balled into a fist. Her nails must be digging into her palm so hard that there's probably going to be blood. Tears are rolling down her cheeks. Tears she's not making an effort to hide from me anymore. I reach out and take her fisted hand in mine. Slowly, I caress each finger until I feel them relax and open up. That's when I lace mine with hers and bring both her hands to my lips.

The moment I touch her skin she turns her head and looks at me. Face flushed, eyes glistening, lips parted in an effort to speak. I nod, letting her know that she doesn't have to. That everything she wants to tell me, I already know. That every feeling traveling through her body is also traveling through mine.

We face each other. Fingers intertwined. Eyes locked. Words unspoken.

The sound of the ship horn mutes us all. I see her jump at the sound. Reluctantly, I release her hand. She buries her small frame in mine and her arms circle my waist keeping me molded against her. I place my hand at the back of her head, making sure she can hear my heart beating and I place a small kiss on the top of her head. She looks up at me and tries to smile. A forced smile that doesn't fool either of us.

“Come on, sweetheart!” I say and I try to pull away from her embrace. The minute her arms fall to her sides I brush some strands of hair from her face and wipe the tears that are still rolling down her cheeks. Her skin is so warm against the palm of my hand. So soft.

She leans in my touch and closes her eyes. Slowly turning her head, she kisses my palm.

Why is it so difficult to tell her I love her? I've told her a thousand times. But I guess if I tell her now, it will probably sound like “goodbye” and not like “I love you”. And I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to let her go. I'm not ready to lose her.

“I love you”

Her words reach my ears and that's the minute I realize that this is the end. That we have no more time together.

I look at her wrist. My watch is still there. Too big for her. Mercilessly ticking away. Oblivious to our pain. I unclasp it and pull out the small lever that winds it. The ticking stops and the arms come to a halt. And along with the watch, everything else stops. The screaming, the crying, the waves of people walking past us. It's just her and me.

It's so quiet I can hear our hearts beating. I place the stopped watch back on her wrist and do the same with mine. Before she gets the chance to speak I bend down and kiss her. I try to pour all my love into that kiss. I'm trying to make her feel the depth of my emotion. My need for her.

She rises to the tips of her toes and circles her arms around my neck. She returns my kiss as a kind of an unspoken promise. As a pledge.

The booming voice of my CO calls for all of us. It’s the sound of war. It’s the call of our duty.

I don't want to let her go. I don't want to be a damn hero. Now, it's time to say it

“I love you”

“I love you more”

“Promise me that you will keep the hands of time stopped. Promise me that we will restart time when I get back. Promise me you'll wait”.

All the words that I couldn't voice before come blurting out now.

She places her lips on mine again and whispers:

“Promise me you'll come back”.

My hand slips from her as I take a few steps back, our hands still raised.

“I promise”

@dean-winchesters-bacon @wingedcatninja @imma-winchester-addict @maimalfoi @missjenniferb @hannahindie @mariekoukie6661 @wayward-and-worn @thewinchestertales @starfirerules @hunterswearingplaid @sculptorofbeginnings @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @icequeen6666 @brokenhearted-littlegirl @theangelwinchester @missihart23 @weathergirl83 @ravenhg @thisismysecrethappyplace @yllwtaxi @soloarcana @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @sexykitten253 @ackleholicwinchester @snffbeebee @daskleinevolk @energizerbunnay @hobby27 @cloverhighfive @silent-loucidity @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @dammitsammy @mirandaaustin93 @srsllydunnodoncare @flipperjanga11 @sandlee44 @alexisxwinchester @jxnnxbrxwn @deans-baby-momma @pansexualgrapes @busy-bee-angel-misska

#bumpy road to love 15 #bumpy #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #reader insert #dean x reader #reader x dean winchester

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

2x08: Crossroad Blues

Welcome to this season’s real hellatus! We’ve got a little theme for the episodes we’re recapping. Try and guess what it is :D Also, we have some good news and bad news. Good news: We’re going to do a whole week of recaps towards the end of the break! Yay! Bad news: They’re all episodes that we hate. We need to get them off our recap plate before the show ends. Enjoy the hellatus (*crying noise*).

Then:

Sam Winchester, professional puppy dog

Now:

Greenwood, Mississippi

August, 1938

Robert Johnson plays Crossroads Blues on a stage to a crowd at a bar. He briefly hears growls but continues to play. He stops again when he sees shadows race outside. The crowd looks confused. Robert runs outside after hearing barks. He races to a shed, but the unseen source of the barking follows him. He kneels to await his fate.

The door bursts open to find a woman and two men from the bar. The men run to find help and the woman pleads with Robert to stay with her as he mutters, “Dogs, black dogs.” He dies in her arms.

Sam and Dean are at a diner and Sam’s researching how much of an outlaw Dean is. Sam is upset because it’s going to make their job harder now that the feds have them on their radar. Well, they have Dean on their radar. Dean thinks Sam is jealous.

Sam’s got a case. An architect jumped off a building he designed, after calling animal control about seeing wild black dogs in his condo.

There’s a ton of lore on black dogs. Dean brings the real insight to the situation when he tells Sam, “Bet they could hump the crap out of your leg.” AND I MISS THIS DEAN SO MUCH SOME DAYS.

They interview Gunner Lawless his business partner under the guise of writing a tribute for Architectural Digest. His partner is resentful but admits that the man was a genius. He wasn’t always that way though. He wonders why people with true talent die young.

The brothers’ next stop is at an area animal shelter. Dean flirts his way into learning more about black dogs in the area. Dean Bean got Carly’s MySpace address too.

They next head to interview all the people that reported the black dogs. The first on their list is Dr. Sylvia Pearlman. She hasn’t been home in two days. Dean notes that she’s chief of surgery at her hospital, a position she’s had for ten years. She’s only about 42, so she’s very young for that position. They also find a connection to their vic and the doctor. They both visited a place called Lloyd’s Bar.

Meanwhile, the doctor is hiding out in an early season dingy motel room. She’s frazzled and petrified when someone knocks on the door. The motel staff is there demanding money for another night’s stay. She grabs her money and turns to the man in the door, only to see his face warp unnaturally.

The boys find Lloyd’s Tavern next. On the cross road outside the joint, Dean notices yarrow flowers growing alongside the road. These flowers are used for summoning rituals. They put things together and start digging a hole in the middle of the crossroads. They find a tin with various items in it.

People have been summoning and making deals with a demon. “Y’know cause that always ends good.” EAT YOUR WORDS DEAN. Sam says that these people aren’t seeing black dogs, they’re seeing hell hounds.

Meanwhile, the doctor meets her end with a visit from her own date with the hell hounds.

Rosedale, Mississippi

1930

We witness Robert Johnson make his crossroads deal with a demon.

Sam notes that whatever they’re dealing with is a lot like the Robert Johnson lore. Dean notes that Johnson’s music is full of references to hell hounds, demon deals, and the occult. Dean’s barely-tolerating-this-bullshit eyeroll is truly a wonder. (Objectification Sidenote: Damn, Dean’s pretty in this scene.)

Anyway, they have a picture of another person that made a deal, George Darrow. They head to where he lives. They notice pepper on the doorsill. George answers his door but doesn’t want anything to do with them. They reveal that they know about the supernatural and tell him they want to help. Sam asks about the pepper and George tells them that it’s actually goofer dust. It keeps out demons.

George talks about making his deal and reveals that the demon stayed around Lloyd’s for a week making deals with other people. George mentions the architect and doctor. There’s one other person that also made a deal ten years prior, a man named Evan Hudson. George is resigned to his fate and tells the brothers to leave.

Evan Hudson works in his home office late at night and flinches at hell hound barks. His wife peeks in before she heads off on a trip.

As she’s bidding him farewell, her face warps into a dead zombie howl. WHEE HALLUCINATIONS!

Sam and Dean arrive at Evan’s house. Dean opens with asking about Lloyd’s Bar, and Evan immediately slams the door in his face and retreats into his home. That went well! Dean kicks down the door and I’m FINE WITH THIS and not objectifying him at all.

The Winchesters corner Evan in his office. Yes, he knows hell hounds are coming for his soul. Dean’s bitterly dismissive of Evan’s distress, joking about potentially frivolous reasons for him to bargain his soul away. Evan reveals that his wife was dying of cancer, and he made a deal for her health. While Sam melts into a puppy-eyed puddle, Dean still reacts to this with anger. “You ever think about her in all this?” Dean asks. “I think you did this for yourself. So you wouldn’t have to live without her. Well guess what? She’s gonna have to live without you now.”

Dean’s anger is...counterproductive. So Sam pulls Dean away and they consult in the hall. Dean instructs Sam to spread George’s goofer dust around while he high tails it to the crossroads to summon himself a demon. He’ll exorcise it, and that will buy them a little time. Sam calls this out as a reckless plan and speculates that Dean’s only doing it because he thinks their dad made a deal. “What if he struck a deal?” Dean asks. “My life for his soul?” OH this SWEET EMOTIONAL TORTURE! He heads out to summon the demon.

Dean buries his offering in the crossroad and turns around to find a woman smirking at him. She’s a crossroads demon! They take turns objectifying each other and then Dean invites her to meet in his car for a little privacy. Classic serial killer pickup line.

Dean tells the demon his terms. He wants Evan released from his deal and he’ll barter himself for it. “You’d sacrifice yourself for someone else?” she says with a devilish smile. “Like father, like son.”

DRAMATIC MUSIC BREAK

The demon gleefully taunts Dean about John’s deal. When Dean tries to usher her into his car, she balks at the edges of the devil’s trap she sees peeking out from under Baby. Nice try, Dean Bean!

Meanwhile, Evan does his best dramatic chipmunk (prairie dog) impression.

The hell hounds are now growling from INSIDE THE HOUSE! Sam and Evan watch the doors warily.

While the hounds close in, Dean gets emotionally traumatized by the demon. (Side note, her breath is visible in this scene and she’s wearing a short sleeved, thin dress. I’m cold in sympathy.) She taunts him about his man-pain and terrible guilt about John’s death. She has the power to bring back John. Dean seems...interested.

The hell hound at Evan’s house stops rattling the door and the room goes silent for a moment until...the hound bursts through the ventilation grate! What a smart doggo!

Dean wants to learn more about the potential to bring back his dad and mopes under a wooden structure until the demon joins him there. She tells him she can give him a ten year deal: John’s life for Dean’s, and they get ten years together before Dean heads below. She plays Dean like a fiddle, and we get a callback to Dean’s feelings in Faith - that he’s not supposed to be alive. Dean experiences VERY LARGE EMOTIONS before wandering out of the structure. “You think you could throw in a set of steak knives?” He directs her attention upward, where he’s painted a devil’s trap on the underside of the structure. What a smart Dean Bean! Excellent misdirection.

Dean reels off HIS deal: Evan lives, and the demon goes free. If she doesn’t strike a deal, she gets exorcised. (Which is SO embarrassing amirite?)

Dean starts the exorcism and it starts a fierce wind to howling. The wind gusts into Evan’s house and blows away Sam’s goofer dust circle. Sam and Evan run for safety. The hell hound barks fiercely...until it doesn’t.

Cut to Dean angry-kissing the demon. A kiss seals the deal (apparently all demons like to slip a little tongue). (Insert crack headcanon that this is Crowley in an alternate vessel, when he first gets heart eyes for Dean.)

The demon tells Dean that her word is her bond, but if Dean breaks their deal then the first thing she’ll do when she escapes Hell is tear into Evan like he’s wet paper.

The demon can’t resist one parting shot. Dean should’ve taken the deal. John Winchester’s torture is unimaginably bad. Dean charges for her, the demon smokes out, and Dean’s left with a scared woman in the middle of the crossroads and way too many feelings.

Driving away, Sam and Dean listen to the blues and contemplate John’s deal. Sam tries to focus on the people John saved, but Dean’s stuck in a sadness pit of his own making. Sam asks him if he considered actually making the deal. Dean doesn’t answer, instead just turning the music up.

Oh, Dean.

The Quotes Bark at Midnight:

Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something

I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg

MySpace, what the hell is that?

Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?

You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 2x08 #crossroad blues #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 2

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