#dean was in his saying fucked up shit on purpose just so sam would tell him off era

[waynes-multiverse]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: A dangerous Wendigo hunt takes the Winchesters and their companion to an abandoned mine shaft and a maze of tunnels. Dean, on the other hand, not only has to find an exit in an underground cave system but also fights against his feelings for a young huntress as he battles through a labyrinth of thoughts and fears.

Warnings: a bit of language, angst, a trifecta of monsters, caves & earthquakes, canon-level violence, injuries & rebars, protective!Dean, idiots in love, silly jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Written as a request for @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​. Hope this scratches the itch! It turned out a little angstier because Wendigos scare the shit outta me, but there’s tons of fluff in between and certainly at the end! 🥰 Inspired by Labyrinth by Taylor Swift (Duh. What else? 😂) and my favorite horror flick The Descent. Enjoy!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Have you ever loved someone so much that just being in their distanced proximity hurts your heart? Loved someone so much that every time they pass you by, their scent drives you mad, their voice gives you shivers, and your own words fail to come clean? So much that lunacy seems like sanity?

Well, Dean pretty much feels precisely like this, feels like he’s going slowly but surely insane as he trails behind Y/N through the woods of Montana. Every wind, even the tiniest breeze, wafts microscopic particles of her perfume into his nostrils, causing him to bite the insides of his cheeks harder, hoping the metallic taste will erase everything that is her. So far, not even the intense smell of pine helps, though. For the last half an hour, all he keeps thinking about is the huntress he’s known for years, wondering if he were able to taste the M&Ms she ate earlier in the car on her tongue once he would finally gather enough courage to kiss her – not that this fantasy would ever be maintainable in the first place.

It’s like a kid’s dream. Dean’s a rockstar, an astronaut, and a pilot all at once whenever he’s near her.

“I think we should be there in an hour,” Y/N muses and halts in her boots to check map and compass, Sam instantly joining her to take a look over her shoulder. “The mine shaft and the cave system are a few miles up the mountain. If we follow the trail along the river, it should lead us right there.”

“Sounds good. We still have enough daylight,” Sam agrees with a resolute nod and a look to the sky, where the sun is still standing high above their heads.

Dean, on the other hand, ignores the eerie feeling in his gut. Aware Y/N is a seasoned hunter with a superb skill set, he knows there’s no real reason for him to worry more than he should. She can handle herself; she always could. It’s a hunt like any other, one of many over the years. Hell, it’s not even the first Wendigo they’ve hunted together. There was another one three years back in Michigan. So truly, what’s different this time?

Right, his fucking feelings…

Y/N and Sam keep chatting as they cheerily march up the mountain, their breaths not even remotely labored, even though the climb is pretty steep. Apparently, going for a jog every morning pays off. Dean, however, stays quiet and trails behind them, green eyes observing their surroundings as he swallows the tiny bit of apprehension and jealousy down.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N notes and purposely falls back to his speed as Sam wanders ahead – not before the younger Winchester shoots his older brother a secret look that says tell her, though. “You okay?”

The green-eyed hunter mirrors the small smile on her lips and nods, gulping, “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Y/N accepts with a slight pout, although she’s obviously far away from buying his lie. She licks her lips and adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. “So, uhm, after the hunt, I figured we could check out that bar across the motel?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, his smile widening and cheeks blushing, even though it’s just the usual hunter invitation to celebrate the end of a case.

“Okay, great,” Y/N lets out a small breath of relief. Was she nervous to ask him? Why the hell would she be? “I actually have to tell you something, so I could use a little liquid courage.”

Dean’s brow furrows, his heart rate accelerating. “Liquid courage? For what? You know you can always tell me everything.”

“Not everything,” Y/N mumbles and averts her gaze to the trail ahead.

“C’mon, what is it?” Maybe it’s wishful thinking or sheer curiosity, but Dean can’t help it and hopes she feels the same way he does, although it sounds like complete insanity again. She’ll probably only confess that she’s been in love with Sam this whole time. He is the smarter choice, after all. Just look at that flawless mane of hair!

Y/N only shakes her head at him and hides a mischievous grin behind her lip bite. “Nuh-uh, forget it. Not drunk enough yet,” she says and then hops forward to join Sam again.

After an hour, the three hunters finally reach the mine shaft that leads to an intricate cave system – the perfect hideout for a monster. Eight women disappeared here last week, the location a popular hotspot for everyone who seeks thrills and adventures. Dean doesn’t count himself as one of those people. His life is adventurous enough as is. Frankly, he would’ve preferred pay-per-view at the motel over this hellish trip.  

Equipped with flashlights, the three carefully stalk inside. It’s incredibly dark and humid, low growls echoing off the stony, muddy walls, so the hunters know they’ve found the right place. The monster is definitely here, even though it still sounds miles away, which isn’t ideal. It only means they have to venture further in, and Dean already hates this with every fiber of his goddamn being. Caves are not exactly his favorite hunting grounds. Y/N, however, seems as fearless as ever, and Dean can’t help but admire her endless bravery. Obviously, she’s so out of his league it’s not even a little bit funny.

“Did you guys hear that?” Y/N stops in her tracks, her ears perked as she surveys the array of noises that bleed through.

“Woman’s voice?” Dean checks, although he’s sure all three of them can hear the faint screams and whimpers.

“One of ‘em is still alive, apparently,” Sam muses, concern and sympathy etched into his brow.

“I think it’s coming from here,” Y/N says and holds her ear to a small cave opening in the wall – if you can even call it that, the entrance as big as a cartoonish mouse hole.

“We can’t fit in there. We need to find another way around it,” Sam informs them and pulls out the cave map they’ve received from a park ranger.

“You guys can’t fit in there.”

“What?!” Dean’s head snaps to Y/N as soon as those words leave her mouth, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“I’m small… unlike my broad-shouldered friends. I can fit,” she shrugs casually as if it wasn’t the craziest suggestion she’d ever made.

“Mm-mm, no. You’re not squeezing through a small tunnel with a monster waiting for you on the other side, Y/N,” Dean tells her sternly, only one sharp tone away from making it a full-on order.

“Dean, she might be dead by the time we get there. I can do this,” Y/N assures him. “This isn’t my first Wendigo, you know?”

As Dean glances at Sam for some support, surely convinced his little brother would come to the same conclusion, the green-eyed hunter soon notices Sam’s suspicious silence on the subject matter and frowns. So much for brotherly support…

“Dean, it might be the only way to save that girl,” Sam agrees. Of course, the gentle giant does.

“Alright, so we all agree,” Y/N smiles and throws her backpack on the ground, pulling out a few flares, a machete, and a lighter.

“No, we don’t,” Dean shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t agree. Not at all. Very much disagree with this plan, in fact.”

“Okay, noted. It’s still two against one, so sorry. Guess you’re losing this one, De,” Y/N says simply and then puts the flashlight into her mouth, proceeding to crawl through the narrow opening.

Dean’s close to grabbing her ankles and pulling her back out, not caring about any surefire protests on her part and the huntress’s wrath as his heart pounds so harshly and loudly against his ribs it almost sounds like a Neil Peart drum solo in his chest.

“Y/N, you still okay?” Dean checks after a minute when the soles of her shoes have disappeared from his sight. As he shines his flashlight into the tunnel, he recognizes her a few feet ahead. “I don’t like this,” he tells Sam, chewing roughly on his plump bottom lip while his brow is in a constant crinkle.

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have, Dean,” Sam counters and focuses back on the map in his hands.

“Oh, is it?!” Dean mocks in sheer sibling annoyance. “You better find out where that tunnel leads and how we can fucking get there,” he barks as the anxiety claims his lungs. “Fast.”

“Already on it,” Sam assures him.

Dean’s heart only gets a single second free of concern, though, before Y/N’s voice rings every alarm bell in his goddamn head.

“Guys? There’s something wrong here. And there’s definitely blood and… stuff in this tunnel,” Y/N informs them, her voice barely audible the farther she gets. “It’s really gross…”

“Okay, Y/N, just get back out here. We’ll find another way,” Dean orders her, his flashlight and eyes unable to see her as he peers into the hole again. Her sweet voice is all he has left now.

“I-I don’t think I can move back out, De,” she says, her tone laced with slight panic now. “This thing is kinda tight. Kinda like… You know what? Never mind.” Dean knows she attempted a dirty joke there, one he certainly would’ve appreciated if he wasn’t currently fearing for her life. “I can only go forward. Just meet me at the end, okay?”

Quite panicked himself at this point, the green-eyed hunter turns back to his brother, “You found it yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s that way,” Sam muses and points at one of three tunnel options ahead.

“You think or you know, Sam?!”

And because misery loves company, at this exact moment, the ground, the walls, the ceiling all suddenly begin to violently shake and tremble, small pieces of stone and dirt coming loose. There’s a “shit” echoing through Y/N’s tunnel that reaches the hunter’s ears before more rumblings follow, more stones fall, and the tunnel closes completely and cuts the huntress off from the brothers.

“Was that a fucking earthquake?” Dean tries to shield his head from falling debris and coughs the dirt from his lungs before frantically checking the small tunnel for proof of life, but all he can see is dirt, dust, and more stones. “Y/N? Y/N! Are you alright, sweetheart? FUCK!”

“Dean, c’mon, we’ll find her,” Sam soothes and heads for the far left tunnel opening.

“Why is there a fucking earthquake in Montana? It’s not freaking California,” Dean huffs as he stomps behind his little brother, hoping the huntress is still alive and not hurt too badly as he speeds up his strides. Either she’s been crushed to death, or a monster will munch on her, and needless to say, neither option is acceptable to him.  

“Actually, Montana has seven to ten every day, which makes it the fourth most seismically active state,” Sam shares his National Geographic knowledge nonchalantly, earning him an angry scowl from the green-eyed hunter.

Yeah, guess what – Dean’s not super interested in random nerd facts right now.

There’s a loud scream that echoes through the cave system, and for an agonizing heartbeat, Dean halts in his boots as he recognizes the voice. No doubt it’s Y/N’s, and his feet set into motion and start running, following the noises of struggle as he rounds corner after corner, blindly running into different tunnels as Sam tries to keep up with him.

The maze of cave tunnels feels as familiar as his mind, a labyrinth of unknown paths that lead him to different options. But the green-eyed hunter doesn’t need a map anymore; he knows exactly where to find her without wasting a single thought on it. His heart is still the best navigation system.

There’s a flicker of red light at the end of his path, and Dean knows Y/N is close. There are growls and hisses before he hears the huntress desperately call his name – his and not Sam’s. It definitely shouldn’t warm his heart the way it does, especially in a life-or-death situation like this, but Dean literally can’t help the slight relief and happiness he feels in his chest over that fact, although he probably shouldn’t read too much into it.

Y/N’s brightly burning flare comes into view first before his emerald eyes spot the huntress on the ground and then the monster. She’s fending off the Wendigo as best as she can, keeping it at bay as she waves her flare in the air like a weapon, but Dean notices soon enough that she can’t move much and is hurt badly.

The older hunter quickly grabs the hairspray, pushes down on the dispenser, and lights the aerosol mist of chemicals on fire with his lighter – Y/N’s genius idea for a weapon, which she came up with in the motel room before their hunt. The flames shoot out and set the monstrous bastard on fire while Sam aims the flamethrower and incinerates the monster for good. Tarantino style, as Dean likes to call it. Unfortunately, he lost the round of Rock, Paper, Scissors over the glorious weapon to his younger brother, but truthfully, the hairspray was still satisfying enough.

As the monster turns to ash, Sam runs to the half-alive victim tied to a pole while Dean rushes to the huntress’s side. He cups her cheeks as she winces, inspecting her whole body and assessing her for injuries when he notices the small piece of rebar stuck in the side of her stomach, blood oozing out around the metal and pooling underneath her body.

“Ow, shit,” Y/N hisses and tries to wiggle, hand curling around his bicep. Dean’s hands quickly steady her before she accidentally drives the damn thing even deeper into her body.

“Shhh, don’t move, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean assures her, although he’s frankly not sure if his calming words are more for his sake than hers. “Just breathe in and breathe out... There you go.”

“I-I don’t… I’m, uhm…,” Y/N trails off, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and his heart only begins to hammer louder in his ribcage, drumming in his ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, stay awake for me, okay?” But her eyes close for good, her palm lifelessly dropping from his arm to the ground. “SAM!”

“Dean, you can’t keep staring at her,” Sam reminds him, his voice only faintly audible behind the green-eyed hunter as his mind solely focuses on Y/N’s unconscious body in the motel room bed. “She’s gonna be creeped out when she wakes up.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles and hears Sam’s sigh of frustration and resignation.

“Alright, Twilight. I’ll grab more stuff from the pharmacy. She’s gonna need it,” Sam announces, hand reaching for the doorknob. “Be back in a few.”

As the door of the small motel room closes, Dean lets his head fall between his knees as he sits on the chair next to her bed, the tension still very much prominent in his shoulders and neck, although she should be in the clear by now. It certainly has been touch-and-go for a while, Y/N drifting in and out of consciousness, passing out from the pain as the brothers carefully removed the sharp piece of metal from her lower abdomen and stitched her up. Sam even had to send the older Winchester for a calming drive in the Impala while the younger one tended to her injuries, not being able to work with Dean’s constant yelling in his ears. The green-eyed hunter had surely been close to a breakdown. Luckily, they could forgo the hospital this time, the rebar not piercing through any serious organs and rupturing a spleen or a kidney.

His green eyes drift to her sleeping form. She seems a lot better now, some pinkish color having returned to her cheeks. Y/N always scares him, usually because she’s so much smarter and tougher than him, and every time he tried to order her around in the past always backfired, with her almost biting his whole head off. This time, though, she terrified him in a completely different way. She was pale, white as a sheet in his arms as he rushed her down the mountain. He swears he’s never run faster in his life. Even Sam, the professional jogger and marathon runner, could barely keep up, and Dean still feels the aching blisters from his boots whenever he shuffles on his feet too much.

“What would I have done if you died, huh?” the hunter mutters under his breath to no one in particular, knowing she’s dead asleep, and screws open the cap of his flask, taking a big gulp of whiskey, letting the burning liquid numb his throat. “You know if I lost you…” Another sip keeps the pricking tears in his green orbs at bay while his mind is battling a breakthrough. “I-I just… I can’t do that, you know? Probably would take me my whole life to get over you. I know you don’t know that, but you’re really important to me, y’know? I mean, hell, you can’t hear me anyways, so I might actually admit it for once,” he sighs at his own stupidity, fingers tapping against the silver flask. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N… for a while, actually. At least, I think that’s what all those icky twinges in my chest are. Doesn’t feel like heartburn, like after eating a cheeseburger... I mean, they’re pretty much only there whenever you’re around, so that’s gotta be it, right? Love. Not like I have a lot of experience with that… I mean, not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex, you know? I just… I’ve never done the feelings thing. At least not well, I guess. So, in that case, you could probably say I’m a feelings virgin…”

Dean then groans loudly and lets his head drop into his palms, rubbing a hand across his freckled face. “Jesus fucking Christ, fuck me. God, I sound like an idiot… Thank God you can’t hear me. This is like the worst trial run ever… I mean, not like I would actually ever have enough courage to tell you all that shit while you’re actually awake, you know? I’m kinda a coward when it comes to that stuff. I mean, let’s be honest here for a second, you don’t care about me, right? You probably have the hots for Sammy. Can’t really blame you. You know, I’m not a girl, but I get it. Sometimes I’d like to tug on that hair too, so…”

And that’s when Dean’s muscles suddenly stiffen, his cheeks draining all color as he notices Y/N’s whole body quaking. His heart stops as he hears the first few snorts that slowly morph into a giggle and then into a full-on laugh.

Shit…

“Are you fucking awake?!”

Y/N pops one eye open at first, carefully checking the extent of his angered shock before she dares to pry open the second one, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her orbs and an amused smile shaping on her pink lips.

“Okay… How much did you hear?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as much as she can and chuckles, “Well, pretty much… all of it.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turn beet red in shame. “What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while a man pours his heart out, huh? You know, I thought you were practically fucking dead!”

Y/N snorts and rolls her eyes. “You did not. And I think you mean, ‘What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while an idiot pours his heart out?’”

“Okay, haha, funny,” Dean huffs and chugs his flask. Is it too late to go back to that cave and hope the Wendigo eats him? “Can we just pretend this never happened before Sam gets back, please?”

Y/N responds with a casual twitch of her shoulders as she props herself up on the mattress. “I mean, sure… If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, okay?” Dean affirms, nodding. “Don’t want shit to be awkward between us from now on, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Y/N agrees. “I mean, it would be pretty awkward for you if I didn’t feel the same way about you, which I do.”

“Yeah, see? Glad you get it,” the hunter huffs before his head snaps to her, green eyes widening and growing to the size of the moon. “Wait, what?!”

Y/N’s laughter then fills the motel room, but he can barely hear it over his own pounding heartbeat. Did she just say what he thinks she said? No, right? He heard that wrong. Jesus fuck, he better not make an even bigger fool out of himself.

“You’re cute,” Y/N tells him then and starts chewing on her lower lip.

Dean swallows thickly. “What, uh, what does that mean?”

“Jesus, you really are a feelings virgin,” she snorts another laugh and winces, all the giggles hurting her freshly stitched wound. Good, Dean thinks. She surely deserves that pain.

His cheeks heat up as he awkwardly clears his throat. “Wha-, uh… Let’s not make that a thing, okay? Please?”

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be a thing,” Y/N teases, chuckling.

“Great, mhm…” God, someone help him.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm, yeah?”

Y/N doesn’t say anything more – all he feels then is her soft lips pressing against his. The tension finally dissipates from his shoulders, his muscles relaxing as he leans into the kiss, his heart thumping wildly in his chest before it drops between his boots. He breathes her in, breathes into the kiss as her tongue slyly sneaks into his mouth and deepens the overwhelming passion as his head becomes dizzier the longer it lasts.

As he fervently kisses her back, he has finally found the right exit and leaves the labyrinth of his mind behind him. He’s on the right path, and it’s goddamn better than his imagination.

A few more one-shots are coming your way this week, so stay tuned, my loves, and let me know if you enjoyed this fic 🥰🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali​ @this-is-me19​ @writercole​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @eevvvaa​ @panicking-outside-the-disco​ @globetrotter28​ @imherefordeanandbones​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ @xlynnbbyx​ @jassackles​ @maggiegirl17​ @perpetualabsurdity​ @deans-spinster-witch​ @deandreamernp​ @foxyjwls007​ @roseblue373​​ @lyarr24​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @deanwithscissors​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​​ @akshi8278​​ @flamencodiva​​ @chriszgirl92​​ @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul​​ @djs8891​​ @leigh70​​ @snowlovespie​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78​​ @muhahaha303​​ @mimaria420​​ @creepzeyecandy​​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​​ @hobby27​​ @fromcaintodean​​

[according2thelore]

i feel like es dean appearing to sooo prefer ls sam, and clinging to him, and trying to win his approval, and looking up to him (physically & figuratively) is going to give es sam some serious john flashbacks…. i suppose how he handles those depends on whether john is dead yet.

also there’s something about es sam feeling like dean doesn’t love HIM he just loves the idea of family, because as soon as there’s other family around, he’s choosing them. not true of course, but still…

SHIT

YOU'RE SO RIGHT! we gotta talk about it!

one of my favourite things they do in supernatural is draw clear lines between sam and john, and dean and mary.

dean and mary have the parallels between selling their souls for john/sam, and the same self-destructive sacrifice.

sam and john get more easily blinded by fear and anger and purpose. sam&john's grief is miasmic. it's metastatic.

dean wants adam to have a normal life, and sam wants to pull him into the hunt. in that one scene, dean even tells sam he's more like dad than he realizes.

THIS ABSOLUTELY WOULD BRING UP JOHN DRAMA.

if john is alive: ES!Sam is pissed. here dean is proving that he will desperately cling to and value the opinion of someone else over him every time. LS!Sam is certainly a little paternal, and ES!Dean consistently choosing someone else's good opinion (even if that person cannot/will not return his devotion AND ESPECIALLY if that person purposefully hides things from them!!!) over ES!Sam's needs/wants/concerns. it hits too close to home! literally!

if john is dead: ES!Sam is pissed AND devastated. he clocks ES!Dean's preference for paternal figures after john's death with gordon almost immediately, kink-shaming ES!Dean so thoroughly that he has to crawl under a bed in shame.

and to have LS!Sam BE that paternal figure?? talk about mixed feelings! on one hand, he prefers A sam, but THAT sam? brutal. and AS A FATHER FIGURE?? makes for some confusing boners.

there's some of that inadequacy there as well because here dean is choosing someone that at his worst reminds them all of john. ES!Sam is not enough because dean will always need someone else in his life. even as ES!Dean says that dad was a bastard for what he asked me to do, and we didn't deserve that, here he is, wanting and choosing this dynamic, unknowingly and almost compulsively.

ES!Sam tries to be respectful of that, but it infuriates him and makes him feel inadequate and it makes him sad!

(he does not know of course that the only reason dean wants to climb this man like a fucking tree is because he is 800% unadulterated sam, and is also rugged and huge and can throw him around a little if he wanted. rugged man + sam = dean's ideal self-directed porn shoot)

and FOR SAM TO RECOGNIZE HIMSELF AS JOHN???? HOLY FUCK!! COULD YOU IMAGINE??

they're on a hunt or something and one of the deans gets hurt and LS!Sam shuts down. completely. terrifyingly. tears into them for being reckless, for being stupid, for not paying goddamn attention, and what did i tell you, you should've listened to me. and ES!Sam is fucking shaking in fury and rage because that's dad.

this man who wears his face and lies to them and treats them like children when he's angry but like adults when he needs them is who sam will become! it's inevitable! he becomes the thing that he fears!

i'm chewing through my leg!!!!!

i don't think ES!Sam would see ES!Dean's obsession as him not loving ES!Sam, but it would absolutely show ES!Dean's preference for an ideal.

ES!Dean will choose a more compliant, more devoted version of his brother, because he's easier to love. he loves LS!Sam more because he doesn't like being challenged.

in ES!Sam's mind, ES!Dean has to work to love ES!Sam, so why would he bother to put in the effort when there's a version of him that's already so ready to reciprocate and capitulate and can express devotion so easily?

ES!Sam is struggling with the weight of his destiny, and his fear, and he knows that it weighs on dean, too. to have a seemingly idealized version of himself? of course he would be upset by ES!Dean's sudden obsession, and presumed preference.

it rankles, because ES!Sam already feels a little inadequate. as mentioned in one of my last posts, one of sam's only true spaces of belonging is with dean, (in S1 outside of the hunt, but in S2 including it) when they're just being brothers.

and now that they're not hunting with their LS!selves, and all they have is time to sit and interact with each other, that only secure place is suddenly mutable! sam's one true home is mutable!!

he knows ES!Dean loves him, but not as much. he loves him, but not enough to satisfy. he loves him, but he's capable of loving something else more. and isn't that the worst possible scenario?

i know i tend not to have the exact same john opinions as some other folks, but this was a really interesting ask, and i hope you liked reading about it!!

this ask was incredible!! thank you for this ask, anon! your brain is too big. it's HUGE. <3

-lizzy

[quietwingsinthesky]

what do you think people would say about supernatural/the winchesters relationship if sam was female?

Realistically, I think Sam being a woman would have given the show itself free rein to be So Much Fucking Weirder towards her. I know this ask is mostly about the fandom’s reaction, but I need to set the basis that, given everything we know about how the show already is, Supernatural would have taken the Sam Experiencing Sexual Violence dial that is already at 9 and cranked that baby up to 20 and left it there for the whole run. And also, given everything else we know about the show, every time Dean ribs about Sam being gay in canon would either 1) stay that way but now have the extra layer of “Dean is really into watching girls fuck” on top of it to make it weird or 2) would just flat out be replaced with Dean hitting on Sam/insinuating something along the lines of ‘why would u ever want another guy? when I am here and all u need?’ because Dean is already a creep obsessed with his brother, can you imagine how it would’ve been written if he had a baby sister instead? Homophobia was the only thing holding the show back from flat out incest sometimes, I swear to god.

Okay, so. Now that I have established All Of That.

For one, we have to take into account how the fandom tended to react to female characters in general. Let’s see the forecast is uh. Bad. We are looking at huge divides between the “Sam is cool, we like her” and the “Sam is a bitch and the show should just be about Dean” crowds. (And the third crowd of “Sam should fuck her brother 😩”, absolutely wincest would still be a thing. It might be even more of a thing in this universe, but that’s all speculation.) Especially when s4 rolls around and Sam decides to be a little evil (and have a girlfriend? I’m assuming everything else in the show goes as is, and so would the Ruby plotline. Which means that’s going to awaken even more things in people than it already does. I would have stopped functioning if I saw girl!Sam/Ruby blood drinking and fucking on my screen as a preteen do you have any idea-) People are going to villainize the shit out of her for that, never let it go.

(Now, as the fandom ages, a lot of this is gonna simmer down like it did for real for characters like Bela. But in the moment? A goddamn war zone. Toxic waste dump.)

And we need to talk about the elephant in the room. Destiel. We already exist in a world where Sam will be completely sidelined and erased to get Dean and Castiel’s love story to seem like the most important plot of Supernatural. Now, I want you to imagine the absolute hell that would be to exist in a fandom where Destiel is the big slash ship and the other main character of the show is a woman. At best, continued sidelining. At worst, we are looking at “Sam is a bitch and the show should be about dean only” attitudes that carry forward into “Sam is a bitch who is in the way of destiel and should be killed off to get her out of the way.” Which you may note is usually a role given to female love interests that are despised for breaking up the main ship. This is because, for all intents and purposes, Sam is the main love interest in competition with Castiel for Dean. On a fandom level between ship wars of destiel vs wincest, but also textually, in the show, beyond shipping, Sam fills out that role in a platonic way as well and Castiel doesn’t. If Sam was a woman, this spells bad news for her. No woman gets in the way of gay ships and comes out unharmed.

Okay and now let’s talk about Lucifer because we need to talk about Lucifer, I’m a Lucifer blog, I’m a samifer girl, and I can tell you that none of these things would change for me if I was watching this version of the show lol. But! Remember what I said about the Sam Sexual Violence dial? Yeah. That is going to be. Extremely loud. Every time Sam and Lucifer are in the same scene. I guarantee you this is the universe where we get evil forced Samifer kisses at multiple points. This is absolutely the universe where, when Lucifer decides he wants a kid, he tries to get Sam pregnant first and only if he fails does he move onto someone else (and hint: he probably doesn’t fail.) Think about every Sam & Lucifer scene that ever happened and now reimagine it but the show can now be as weirdly sexually violent as it feels like because it’s “straight” now. The innuendos are out, and Lucifer is going to pin Sam against a wall at some point.

I’m very into this, but I feel like this would make the whole fandom situation around them a lot worse. People already get up in arms around samifer, or even liking Lucifer at all. If all that subtext became flat out text and people could gif “Times Lucifer sexually assaulted Sam on screen” into little gotcha compilations, it would be way more of a struggle to exist around here.

But like I’d still be into it so I’d definitely still be here, give me those comps, I’m gonna jerk off to them

ANYWAY. That’s what I think would change if Sam was a lady. Overall, not great, but I think there would also be a lot of people who find her relatable, empowering, etc, and really enjoy her as a woman. Probably the same people who like Sam now, honestly. If there’s any universe I got a chance to peak into, I’d want it to be this one. If only for samruby canon lesbian sex.

[princessmisery666]

baseball bat, apple, car... with this guy

Crazy Angel

Warnings: smut, angst. 

W/C: 800

Betas: @writercole

A/N: Thanks for the inspo 😍 Kym, I love you!!

Master Lists: All The Fandoms 

Gif Requests info.

Some people don’t know when to quit. Dean was one of those people.

Can you come over?

He only ever finds the words at the bottom of a hundred proof. You used to answer the message every time. And whenever you left the next day, his head was as messed up as the bed sheets you’d ruined. Sober Dean didn’t think about it, made a conscious effort not to think about you. Kept himself as busy as possible. But drunk Dean couldn’t get over you; there was no hangover quite like you and it didn’t matter how many times you said you wouldn’t do it again, he always sent the message.

Can you come over?

It goes unanswered for too long and he’s almost at the bottom of the bottle. 

He’d felt listless all day, his thoughts scattered and completely unfocused. He’d scratch the itch, if only it would keep still. He pushed the door to the bar open and as he crossed the threshold he convinced himself it had been an unconscious decision. He’d just been driving with no destination in mind and Baby had carried him back to the place he knew you’d be. Evidently, his destination hadn’t been a place but a person.

You look up when he enters and he sees the accusation in your eyes - you shouldn’t be here. But he can’t help himself. 

The first time you met you’d almost taken his head off with a baseball bat. Sam had stopped it. You’d apologized by fucking Dean so well he’d forgot his name for a while. That’s part of the reason he comes back. You make him forget. You’re one of those crazy angels. A walking contradiction. A sweet girl next door, butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. Until you're naked. A wicked smile that should come with a whiskey warning. That’s all it takes, a few shots of whiskey, a jukebox quarter and you give into him.

He approaches the bar, and waits but you purposely stay down the other end, so he orders a double and takes it to the back of the room. He watches you, serving customers, restocking the fridge, cleaning glasses. You’re doing everything you can not to look at him, but somehow your head is always turned slightly in his direction.

He finishes his first drink and stands to put a quarter in the jukebox, selecting your favorite song and as the first opening bars fill the room you finally look at him. You hold his eyes as you shoot back a shot of whiskey and nod your head toward the door.

“Hey,” he says as you slide into the back of Impala where he waits. 

You don’t speak, instead greet him with a hard, passionate kiss. You taste like apples, it’s probably all you’ve eaten today, he wants to ask how you are, but he already knows. You wouldn’t be there if you were doing okay. You shuck off your jacket and it’s the urgency that tells him you don’t have time for small talk.

It’s a practiced routine, getting each other naked in the confines of the backseat and within minutes you're straddling his lap, hungrily kissing him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your velvety heat envelope around him as you sink down onto his cock. 

“Dean,” you sigh, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “I need…”

He thrusts and you forget your words. “Uh-huh, I know,” he breathes, “I got you.”

He rocks his hips, he pushes up and you slam your ass down. Flesh slaps loudly, echoing in the small space. The car bounces with the rhythm and the windows soon fog up.

You whine and moan his name in between kisses. He loses himself, feels the sweat trickle down his back and get stuck between the leather and his skin. Baby will smell like sex for days and he’ll revel in the memory as long as he can. 

“Holy shit!” Your movements stutter and he feels your walls clench, holding him in place. “Dean, oh, fuck.”

“Y/N, I’m gonna…” he warns. 

“Me too,” you say and as you kiss him again you come together.

Ten minutes later you're back behind the bar and he’s back at his table. He watches you flirt and work, avoiding eye contact with him again. It’s not shame that keeps you from looking at him, it’s a game. A game he likes to play, because he always wins. He finds a quarter in his pocket, takes it to the jukebox and as your favorite song starts again, you lock eyes. This time you nod toward the bathrooms. 

He wets his lips, eyebrows raising in a silent question, “really?” 

You answer by taking a shot of whiskey and he can’t wait to lick the taste from your mouth.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 46

All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2/The Satan Pit

Can you imagine arbitrarily scheduling the gates of Hell to open in two of your shows in one night?

"All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Not counting this one. No one died. Sam was already dead.

What if every time I hit a season finale (from season 3 on), the only song I could consciously play (while also forgoing my podcasts) was Carry On Wayward Son? Considering how little I've listened to music this year so far, I'm...thinking that might make it my TOP. SPOTIFY. SONG. OF. THE. YEAR. Should I do that? What if I made a poll? Should I make a poll? I'm gonna make a poll. (I have made a poll, and at time of posting 69% of voters want me to)

OMG OMG OMG. I'm just...Dean's literally lost his whole family at this point and the purpose in life John gave him (protect Sam). It's no wonder he's acting like this and lashing out and saying to Hell with the world.

I want to hug him so badly. FUCK. He thinks he's nothing but a failure. (Oh. oh no.)

Okay, but literally getting in your car when you're like this is probably the WORST thing you could have chosen to do...oh, good. Driving to where you know there's a crossroads demon to make a deal with. Excellent decision making skills there, buddy.

Oh, so this is why Dean has to die at the end of next season...coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool. Like, I remembered he did (it's how we get Cas), and I kind of guessed he made a deal for one year once I saw where he drove to.

*inhuman noises of angst* The lying and secret keeping...it's both so good and at the same time terrible. And Dean's look of shame when he brought Sam to Bobby's. Oof. Sayin' Sam got better like he'd only been turned into a newt or something

OOOOOOOOO Dean's about to catch and ABSOLUTE EARFUL.

Why do I latch on so tightly to characters who call themselves failures and who don't think their life has meant anything? Whose dads put that thought there? (Though, they take WILDLY different stances on their younger brothers.) On second thought, don't answer that.

THAT'S IT THOUGH, DEAN!!! THAT'S WHAT I WAS THINKING IMMEDIATELY!!! YOU TELL HIM, BOBBY!!! Like, yeah, you brought Sam back, but you're also gonna leave him all alone like you were. And then the way Dean reverts to being such a little kid "please don't tell him."

Poor Ellen...also, poor Ash. Like...we didn't get enough of him. (Ellen's at least still alive though)

I love the "figuring this shit out" portions, where the viewer, by design, realizes what's going on half a second before it gets said out loud. It's beautiful

Who...who does this yellow eyed demon actor remind me of? He's a little bit Jack Nicholson, but who else?

Oh Jakey boy. Wrong move. Shoulda shot him.

Uh oh. UH OH. "I cut clean through your spinal cord. You can't be alive."

I hate how these powers corrupt everyone who gets them (except Sam, apparently).

Ok. Now this is literally overkill, Sam. You didn't have to do THAT. The powers might not have corrupted you, but SOMETHING happened.

He seems like such an insurmountable obstacle...what with the Jedi powers and being just an all powerful demon in the first place...

Hey...coming back to some shit from earlier. They're self-destructive too. How wonderful of me to cling to them so hard.

Look. I still don't like John, but damn if I don't respect him showing up to save his boys.

Good on you, Sammy, digging deeper into what happened. UGH. Don't LIE to him. DON'T LIE TO HIM, DEAN.

Don't look at me, but I'm definitely not sobbing. Totally not crying like a baby.

"Been On My Mind...": haahahahahahahahhahahahahaahahhaahaha. No. Best I can offer you this time 'round is the kiss to seal the deal with the crossroads demon when Dean sold his soul.

"The Satan Pit"

Like...literally just all gates to Hell opening up tonight. (I guess this one started a couple nights ago, but nothing's proven coming out yet.)

OOOOOOOO science officer going rogue? Girlie. Just like Sam's mercy and kindness got him killed, this crew's curiosity is gonna get them killed.

It's so unlike him to say he's not gonna explore, he's not gonna go further. THIS. This does terrify him. I was right. Every little thing, starting with the text that even the TARDIS couldn't translate, has a Time Lord scared. All that AND Jackie Tyler's wrath? Would be enough for me, too.

Did...did we know this crew worked for Torchwood before now?? I feel like that's also an important tidbit that they held out on

Look. I don't like Toby either, but DAMN. At least most of your other drags seemed like something they DID or some TRUE failure. The worst you could dig up on Toby is that he's never had sex? Gtfo.

Amazing how everyone just lets Rose and the Doctor take over command of anything and everything. Sure they're right the vast majority of the time, or they eventually figure out how to get to the right answer, but Rose just really took over command of this station to get the Doctor and the science officer back. She's the one giving everyone, including the acting captain, orders.

Man, Doctor...maybe not the urge to fall...perhaps just the urge to saunter vaguely downward. That might be just a little safer

There's little sadder than listening to someone who knows they're about to die. Not pleading for their life, but asking for their death to be on their own terms, to not have the worst things they can imagine happen

Oh god. Toby's not free of it.

I hope they didn't KILL the Ood. Just incapacitated them. It's not THEIR fault.

Mmmmm, just asking questions, are we? This visual is terrifying. Just the Doctor against an absolute void.

Rose deciding to stay and the acting captain not allowing her. I get both sides, but fuck it hurts

MAYBE WE DON'T TOUCH THOSE VASES.

I love when the Doctor is the antithesis of a Bond villain. He'll spend several minutes monologuing his enemy's whole plan.

"If I believe in one thing, I believe in her" okay, yeah. that IS (slightly unconventionally) romantic.

It's so crazy that they kill the LITERAL devil in this episode.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x18 Freaks and Geeks

“Shaggin’ wagon. Fogged up too” “yup. Called it” “I recognize her face. Have we seen her more than once?” “well shit” “oh damn. I wasn’t expecting that” grooving to the music

“Yeah maybe” laughter

“Are they still in Kansas? This guy aint from Kansas” “we’re watching them make out for safety purposes” we’ve seen her before

“Don’t bother calling anybody” “Yup” “that guy looks like a total fkn tool” “That’s a good plan. The throat punching obviously” “they’re going to get laptop girl” “Yup” “we heard that glass break three times. Solid editing right there” “We even went to the mall. Just once though” “You’re one to talk Dean” laughter

“May ham - is that the pig you get in the month of May? A May Ham?” “Dean’s turning into an Old Man complaining about teenagers and shit” “Not what I would call a compound” “Doesn’t this guy turn bad? I can’t remember” “I remember them killing him or something” “That was a very not sure sure” “which means they’re not doing very well in school” “not a very good salesman” “Ok Old Man” “it’s a terrible idea. They’ll hate you forever” “Oh yeah split up again. Solid plan. Something something fuck the buddy system” “I think the music was trying to tell me that he’s a bad dude” “He’s got Sam hair. So of course since they have a similar hair cut, they’re going to agree” “it’s another Sam haircut. A little shorter though. To be fair, I like her hair better” “Who’s Jimmy?” “It’s a set up. Probably” “hair cut men. They both need hair cuts” “At least they’re safe. They have a fire extinguisher” “gotta solve the fkn mystery” “Just walking around downtown with your guns and machetes out. No big deal” “You’ll at least blend in with all the crazy people with a haircut like that” “God dammit” “why do they have to give it away like that?” It’s called telling a story

“That kid will fuck you up” “Why are they all pointing the guns at Dean and not the vampire?” “because we’re not dicks” “very vampire-y thing to say ‘take this one to go’” “That was a very Sam mood though. Sam would usually save the monster and Dean would kill it” “So he’s not a vampire?” They’re working together

“I guess I should have known; he’s not wearing enough eyeliner. He could use some” “Aren’t they all armed?” “Dean’s getting the red mist” “His blood pressure is probably low so he wouldn’t have problems with that” “Is she going to blast him?” “That’s pretty awesome” Right in the eyeball

“That’s a badass speech” “That’s some really watered down blood. Where did they get it from? Oh wait they shot him with the dead mans blood” “What happened to the vampire?” “They cut the part where they killed him or something” “dead mans blood to the brain probably isn’t good for anyone” “Does Jensen have kids?” Yeah he’s got a few.

“Her eyebrows looks purple” laughter

“I wasn’t expecting that. It’s good” “They made this out to be evening time, but I’m pretty certain it’s morning”

[hintsofhoney]

alright, *cracks fingers*. so. I’ve written up a transcript just to lay it all out for myself and get the most important parts. listen, everyone. for all intents and purposes and legal reasons, THIS WAS A DREAM. alright? I dreamt this. and he is literally the nicest human being ever so I don’t want to just like... put our whole convo out there like that, but I think he said some stuff that was important for people to hear so... here we go

my *dreamt* zoom call with thee crowley below the cut

The first five minutes (of my dream) was just a bunch of introduction stuff and talking about my favorite Supernatural seasons which eventually led to him telling me how they filmed the Season 8 finale (which they did over the span of three days, and in between takes the crew members were like dead silent, as to keep the moment going, which Mark thought was really cool. Said it was one of his favorite things they did on Supernatural.) Anyways, he eventually asked me if I had any questions, so, I’ll start there.

MARK: So, do you have any questions you want to ask me about aaaaaannyyyythingggg? 

ME: Um, I guess the number one thing I wanna know… um, so, I know you can’t speak for Dean and I don’t want to talk about Dean because you’re not Jensen, but, there’s like a lot of questions I guess or subtext or whatever concerning Dean’s sexuality and what not, but I want to know about demon Dean and Crowley’s relationship and if there was, I don’t know, anything like, any implied –

MARK: Well I think – I think you’re talking about… there’s a massive difference between sex and love. There’s a massive difference between, um, well, they can intertwine perfectly, that’s not the issue, but I mean you would believe with all the things that Crowley did for the Winchesters, that he was – that he very much loved Sam and Dean or loved who they are or what they are. To reduce it to, you know, a crush, or to something that – I mean, I don’t know, I think Crowley is very probably pansexual more than anything else; I don’t think anything phased him. I think, that’s why the whole stuff with Lucifer and licking the floor was kind of really stupidly boring for me because Crowley did weirder and crazier things on his own. I mean, it became this joke of trying to humiliate somebody who can’t be humiliated. There’s nothing you can humiliate Crowley with. So, that never sort of made sense, that was just a sort of writer’s glitch of thinking, “oooh, this would be funny to knock him down into subservience” and that’s what he does on a Wednesday, I mean it’s like the most un-inspiring thing. I think so much is projected onto the relationship between, certainly the four main characters, um, and, you know, look, getting comfortable with one’s sexuality and one’s identity is a massively complicated things, and if you want to live vicariously through what you believe people’s identity is and you can relate to that, great!  Who cares? I mean, can I be absolutely honest? Apart from – what I do care about, you know, don’t ever take this and piece me or misquote it, because it’s very, very specific – um, somebody stopping somebody being able to express their own identity or whatever is an issue for me. That will always be an issue for me. Um, we should all be treated equally, and we all have the rights to believe and follow those things that we wish to follow, but to project relationships onto characters is an odd thing to do. I mean, it’s wishful thinking in a lot of ways, I mean, actually it’s quite… it’s quite reasonable because in the past if you think about it, if you ask your parents or anyone else, the only way sexuality was used was to, uh, literally demonize somebody. It was only ever used to say somebody was bad because this who they’re in love with. You know, that’s, that’s the thing. And it’s a massive change in the world that we’re moving towards, I should say, uh – a lack of consequence for who one loves, apart from the obvious consequences of human nature. You know, political consequences for who one loves – I’ve just watched Pete Butteigieg being, you know, sitting in congress with his husband there with him; that’s the first time that’s ever happened in United States congress and I’m so proud of that. Not just because the man is gay and happily married – that’s not even the issue for me, it’s because he’s the best man for the job and one of the smartest people on the planet. You know, it’s like using sexual templates, as they were, or gender templates as they are, or orientation templates as they are, we always use to disclude people from things. They were always used to discriminate. You know, labeling somebody was a way of discrimination. And where as labels are very important, to ones self, and they’re very important politically and they’re very important socio-economically and they’re very important in all those aspects, I yearn for a time when nobody gives a damn. I really do. But I mean, we have to go through so much to get there. I mean, let’s be honest, you can’t, you know, right the wrongs of hundreds of years of oppression in 20 minutes by saying, “let’s all move forward”. It just doesn’t work that way, it never has. But there’s a responsibility there, that if you’re going to represent, that you represent all. That you don’t just represent you. So, one has to be careful with a television program or, or, you know, Misha or myself, or, not speaking for the boys, but just generally, um, you have to be careful that what you advocate is inclusive, not disinclusive. Not excluding people... and it’s so hard to frame these conversations, that they’re equitable, it’s so hard to do that. And so, you know, we spend years pointing out the inequity and the injustice and the unfairness of the whole situation, and… I don’t know if the trick is to rise above, or, uh, maybe it’s as simple as love and coming together as a human race and make it very difficult for people to discriminate and exclude based on gender, race, color, religion, any of the subsets of humanity that we’ve decided we have. So, I think personal responsibility is the most important thing, but if one is in a position of power on a TV show, you got to remember what you’re representing, that you have a, you know, you have to cover all or cover none. So, you know, but if you stick to a story and you have a story about a person or two people and their journey, that’s shining light on things. If you try to advocate for all, I think it becomes a little more complicated. Does that make sense?

so, i just feel like he said some important things there, but like I also don’t really understand what he’s getting at really, y’know? oh! also, he didn’t watch the finale lmao 

also! there’s this:

MARK: Because if you come down on one side or another, you’re admitting the sides, and that has its own political ramifications. If you push the ball up in the air and say, “you decide”, I don’t think that’s copping out. I think that’s, maybe not fulfilling everybody’s expectations, or not fulfilling everybody’s hopes, but at least you’re getting the question asked. You know, at least you’re getting the question asked. At least people are relating to it and going, “well, what if?”. Because it’s all “what if”, I mean, it’s a TV show, so it’s “what if”, you know? It’s not Misha being in love with Jensen, I mean as much as he loves Jensen, I don’t think that’s his thing – I mean you never know – but I’m saying yet again, I don’t exclude anything from anybody (I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID THIS LMAO). But to force my opinion or my identity belief upon a situation has a cost. It may be right, it may be absolutely right, and it may be necessary in many, many cases. But, in that circumstance, I think… there are a lot of people in the world that say that Jesus, for example, was anti-homosexual and that he was – and none of that is true, and none of that is provable in the New Testament, and I’m not talking about Leviticus and I’m not talking about early Bible and I’m not talking about the fact that more than 25,000 words have been changed in the King James edition and all of this stuff, but these things that people hold so sacred, the confusion that arises from that is being told that a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman or a man loving a man and a woman or whatever combination being there is either right or wrong because you’re being told by a pastor or the leaders of your church, is a very difficult thing to break down. I think what you have to do is at least put it out there so it’s visible, and so it becomes less and less deniable. And you know, people change over years, that’s the trouble with youth, is shit doesn’t move fast enough. “I need a decision now!”, and unfortunately, when you’re dealing with centuries of prejudice and centuries of un-enlightenment, I think that sometimes the best thing to do is reach as many people as possible and pose the question. And sometimes it’s essential to make a statement, absolutely, no question. It is essential to make a stand, in some circumstances. But to polarize a TV show, can be very disingenuous to those who need to go ask their own questions, who need to go say, “well, where does Jesus say this is wrong?” you know, if that’s your beliefs.

he also said, when we went off on a tangent about doom patrol:

MARK: There are issues that are being addressed here [on Doom Patrol] that are not being addressed on other shows, and yet again, we have the format, and I don’t know that Supernatural ever had the format because it was on the CW.

anywho, in conclusion, fuck the cw.

also, again, for all intents and purposes this was a dream I had :)))))))

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Dear Fucking Diary: Entry the 5th - The Model and the Mouth That Almost Killed Me

Pairings: Dean x Fem!OFC (Daisy)

Explicit 18 +/Warnings: None really. A kiss. Dean being sexy af! (That's not new, but I feel the warning is warranted! 😁)

Word Count: 2,711

DFD: Series Masterlist

Series Summary: I’ve been tasked with writing in this fucking diary like a some teenage girl. It sucks, but who else am I going to talk to about the incredible hottie who lives next door?

Chapter Summary: 5th Entry: In which Dean holds my hand and kisses me - not sure how I'm alive to write this!

A/N:  This series has popped into my head from out of nowhere. It was supposed to be a whole other thing, but then it just morphed into this. (Cause I needed more series to work on! 🙄😄) Hope you like it, I should be releasing a new entry every few days, and I think there will be about 7 or 8 entries. The first entry is short and sweet, but most of the others will range between 1000 and 3000 words. Thanks everyone!! 🥰

The awesome divider at the bottom is created by @talesmaniac89

So, he kissed me. Let me write that again.

HE FUCKING KISSED ME! Jesus, everything I write sounds like a teenage girl! But you know what - fuck it! I'm just gonna embrace it.

Omg! Omg! Omg! Dear Diary, he kissed me! Let me tell you about it!

K, being a teenage girl again is kinda fun!

So we've spent the last couple weeks chatting over text and he's been back a few times to my apartment to check on my ankle (pretty much all healed now, btw) and every time I talk to him, I turn right back into a gushing moron.

But I have actually been able to carry on some conversations with him without devolving into a puddle of mush.

He has one younger brother, Sam, who's a lawyer out in California, but they sound really close and he says they get together as often as they can.

He gets this look in his eye when he's talking about his "baby brother"; he's clearly full of pride! It's pretty adorable. From what I could gather, since he kinda downplayed it, he actually helped to raise him.

It was just the two of them and his Dad. Both his parents have passed on now, just like mine. But he lost his mom when he was really little.

I guess his Dad worked a lot building up the garage Dean now owns along with his Uncle Bobby. (He's the "Singer" in Singer Auto, btw. Dean's last name is Winchester.) He lost his Dad a few years ago.

We had a pretty deep discussion about all of that the other night. We were talking about the difference between losing your parents when you were really young, like he'd lost his mom, or losing them after you'd really known them, like his dad and my parents, and which was worse.

We came to the conclusion that losing your parents, no matter what your age is terrible. But we also agreed that no matter what, we were grateful for the time we got with them.

We've had a couple really great conversations like that actually. He's sweet and smart, and funny as hell. He's modest and cocky at the same time and it's just a fucking deadly combination.

And holy shit, does that boy know what to do with his mouth.

So, the kiss.

Yesterday we ended up meeting at our mailboxes after work. Purely by coincidence you understand. I absolutely did not make note of the fact that he gets off earlier on Tuesdays and then I for sure didn't purposely delay walking into the building after my shift just so I could bump into him at the mailboxes.

That would be pathetic. Right?

Anyway, we ended up at the mailboxes and started chatting about our day. All of a sudden I saw his face draw into a grimace and he spun away from the front door.

Instinctively, I turned away from the door too and faced the mailboxes with him.

"Shit." He said under his breath.

I looked at him questioningly and he gave me a pleading look.

"I will owe you so huge if you just play along. Please?" He said.

And before I could ask what the hell he was talking about, he'd grabbed my hand and spun us both back around to face the front doors of the building.

And the smoking hot woman walking through them.

She definitely looked like she'd stepped off a runway in Milan or out of the pages of Vogue; right down to her incredibly chic, minimalist black mini dress, and eight inch stiletto heels.

I would have looked like a baby deer on new legs in those friggin' things, but she strode in on her incredibly long legs, without a problem.

She was ridiculously beautiful, with a willowy figure and an angular face that probably photographed very well. She had perfectly highlighted blonde hair that was twisted into a perfectly styled chignon.

She was stunning. She was also very clearly pissed.

She came to stand directly in front of Dean, and because she was runway model tall, and had added eight inches of heel, she ended up being a bit taller than Dean which is really saying something.

Standing near them, I felt like an elf. And I still didn't understand why Dean had hold of my hand, but the heat and roughness of it was distracting me from thinking clearly or I probably would have figured it out quicker and maybe seemed less flabbergasted.

"Why haven't you returned my texts, Dean." the woman said without preamble.

"Hi, Lois." Dean said, his voice sounding extremely exasperated.

"Why?" She demanded again.

Dean heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face. "Well, for the same reason I gave you when we got together that. one. time." Dean said, emphasizing the words.

"The same reason I repeated to you when you showed up here at my apartment two days later, and then repeated again when you showed up at my work the week after that." He continued in a long suffering tone.

"And then once again, I gave you the same reason when you showed up at my favorite coffee place the very next day."

He took a deep breath. "The reason I haven't returned your texts is the same reason I gave you every one of those times; I am not interested in pursuing a relationship with you."

Lois gritted her teeth, and seethed.

Dean's voice remained firm but also held a note of compassion as he continued. "Now, as I've said before, I really am sorry if I was unclear about that, or if I made you believe, for any reason that I was interested in something with you long term. But I'm just not."

He raised our joined hands. "And now I'm with someone, so I'm really, really not interested."

Lois turned her wide, brown, doe eyes to where I stood next to Dean and raked her gaze contemptuously up and down my body.

And then scoffed; like, didn't even try to hide it, just looked me over and laughed at the idea that Dean would be dating me.

She turned back to Dean and shot him a look that said she refused to believe it. "You're telling me, you passed me over," she swept a hand up and down, encompassing all her perfection, "for that?" she finished with a dismissive wave at wholly unspectacular me.

I mean, I couldn't exactly blame her, it did stretch credulity that Dean was going to pass on this runway model with legs up to her ears to settle for the slightly dumpy, Plain Jane girl that barely reached his shoulder.

But still, she didn't have to say it out loud, geez.

In the couple weeks I've been stalking known Dean, I've never seen him be anything other than cordial and kind, and often downright sweet and charming.

But when Lois issued her incredibly accurate insult his face changed in an instant and, I gotta say, it was just a little scary. And also hot af! His expression became hard and his jaw set, the muscle there jumping.

He squeezed my hand tighter and pulled me into his side, before dropping my hand and sliding his arm around my upper back, his hand coming to rest against my ribs.

His voice was deeper and harder when he spoke to her, all compassion having disappeared.

"Yeah, actually." He said in answer to her skepticism. "I'm with Daisy because she's beautiful and smart, funny and kind and not a um..."

He snapped his fingers in rapid succession. "What was the word?" He asked as though it was right on the tip of his tongue.

He shook his forefinger like he just remembered. "Right! Not a raging psychopath!" He nodded. "That was it. So yeah...yeah, I think I'm happy with my choice."

Lois' beautiful face was turning a slightly less attractive shade of red. "You're an asshole." She told Dean.

He clicked his tongue and shot a finger gun at her. "Noted."

She turned scathing eyes on me. "Well, best of luck, Daisy."

She said my name with derision dripping from her tone. "But let me give you a warning. He may be a hell of a lay, but he's gonna fuck you and forget you."

I felt Dean tense a little beside me and I became inexplicably defensive on his behalf. As I result, I blurted out my next words without thinking. "Oh, he's already fucked me and he still seems able to remember me fine."

I turned to look at Dean. "You remember my name, right, babe?"

His face split into a surprised grin for a moment before he scowled, playing along. "It's...Daisy? Right? Is it?"

"Hey! Way to go!" I said and offered him a fist bump which he returned promptly.

I turned back to the fuming blonde in front of us. "Yeah, I feel like we're good, so..."

She spun on her eight inch heel (another impressive feat from her!) and stomped away.

"Aw, she's mad!" I said in mock sadness. I turned to Dean. "I think we made her mad."

He was grinning so wide it was almost blinding. "You're awesome!"

My brazenness seemed to desert me almost as fast as it had come and I ducked my head. "Well, only in comparison." I said with a wave toward the departed Lois.

But Dean shook his head. "No, seriously. Thank you so much." His eyes sparkled and I was suddenly very aware of his hand, warm against my ribcage.

"I owe you dinner."

I sputtered my way through a denial. "No, you don't...I mean, you don't owe me...there's nothing..."

He remained quiet, just smiling at me while I stumbled over my words. When I finally ran out of rambling denials he tilted his head to the side in that incredibly endearing way he had.

"This is my very subtle way of asking you on a date." He smiled and shrugged. "In case that wasn't clear."

My mouth gaped open and shut like a fish on land for a few seconds before I pulled away from him and began my second round of rambled idiocy, it was all half started sentences and stuttered words.

He just shook his head at me. "You can say no." He raised his hand like he was being sworn in. "I promise I won't turn into an asshole."

He gave me a gentle smile that melted the only brain cell I had left into mush.

And then I heard myself say, "Okay, sure." No more rambles, no meandering speeches. I think my brain was just putty and acquiescence was the only option left to me.

His smile turned blinding and I swear to god, I might commit murder just to keep that smile on his beautiful face.

I mean, Jesus Christ, there's only so much I can take.

But it was about to get so. much. worse. better. worse?

"Really?" He confirmed happily. "Great! Pick you up at 7:00?"

I nodded. "Sure. Just don't get stuck in traffic on your way over!" I joked lamely.

Amazingly, Dean chuckled. "I'll try not to."

I nodded. "Okay, see you then."

"See you then."

And we both left. To go to our apartments.

We took a few steps and stopped.

Dean let out a bark of laughter. "We're both awkwardly going in the same direction now aren't we?"

I nodded. "Mm hmm. Because we live beside each other."

We started walking together again, heading up the flight of stairs to our floor. On the landing in the middle of the flight Dean stopped and turned to me.

"Maybe we can make the moment a little less awkward and maybe even take some awkwardness and worry out of the date later."

He had a mischievous glint in his eye that I will know to be on the lookout for next time.

He subtly shifted so that I was up against the wall and his body blocked me from continuing up the stairs. He leaned in toward me, resting an arm on the wall above my head, caging me in and making my heart hammer so hard against my ribs I was sure he had to be able to hear it.

Then his next words made it abruptly stop beating and I'm honestly not sure how I'm still alive.

"Can I kiss you goodnight ahead of time?"

I returned to my trusty fish imitation before croaking like a bullfrog. "You want to kiss me?"

As questions went, it wasn't a terribly intelligent one.

But Dean smiled and nodded, eyes flickering to my lips. "Since the moment I first saw you walking into your apartment."

I felt my face flush, so I can add blushing to the list of schoolgirl actions this man has brought back into my life along with writing in a diary and squeeing a whole lot.

I shook my head. "Wow. That's quite a line."

"Not a line." He denied. "It was about two months ago, not long after I moved in. You were coming home after work and I was headed out. You had your purse, some kind of giant binder, and a bag of takeout in your hands and you were fighting with your keys and cursing loudly at them."

He chuckled and the sound made my stomach swoop. I dropped my gaze from his, trying to get myself under control.

I tried for a nonchalant tone. "You remember me because I got pissy with my keys?"

With his forefinger he tipped up my chin so I was forced to look up at him again.

"Actually," he said with a wolfish grin. "I think it was the short black skirt and F-bombs that stuck with me."

He dipped his head incredibly close to mine, his deep voice causing my stomach muscles to clench low in my belly. "There's something incredibly sexy about such dirty words coming out of such a pretty mouth." He plucked my bottom lip with his thumb. "Very memorable."

I stared at his plush lips and nodded. "I know the feeling." I said, breathless.

And then he was kissing me.

Fuck. I wasn't wrong. He uses that goddam mouth like a weapon.

He sort of nibbled at the corners of my mouth at first and then pressed his closed mouth against mine, applying pressure gently at first and then increasing it slowly.

So slowly that by the time he was finally pushing his tongue against my lips, I was desperate to feel him invade my mouth and opened to him immediately.

He tasted like mint and honey.

Every sweep of his tongue was absolutely delicious, and he could have kept me pinned to that wall for days and I would have been just fine with it.

I honestly couldn't tell you if I kissed him back, or just stood there and let him ravage my mouth.

But I have to imagine that whatever I did he liked it, because I have the very distinct memory of the sound of his moans, soft at first but increasingly ragged and deep as he slanted his mouth over mine again and again.

Finally though (absolutely NO idea how long we stood there!) he pulled back and buried his face in my neck (which was a whole other level of shivers and heat running up and down my body!) before he stepped away and tugged my hand, leading me up the other half of the stairs.

When we got to my door he waited beside me while I unlocked my door just as though he really had kissed me goodnight.

I opened my door and turned back to him. "I'll see you in a few hours." I was once again all blushes.

He didn't help when he leaned close and pressed a feather light kiss to my temple.

"Looking forward to it."

He smiled again as he walked backwards towards his apartment and I ducked into the sanctuary of my own.

That was about an hour ago and now I have to start getting ready.

What the fuck am I supposed to wear?

Jesus Christ, I'm perpetually thirteen years old when it comes to this man.

I kinda like it.

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[mishasminions]

The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15. 

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Mature | Biker!Dean/Castiel | Destiel | 5,285

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Castiel was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant when Benny slid into the seat across from him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his rough jeans and flannel amid the midday lunch crowd all in skirts and suits. It took Castiel a moment to pick his jaw up off the table but when he did, he was livid.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Relax buddy I’m just here to deliver a message.”

“You can’t be here. I’m waiting for someone.” Castiel glanced around, noting that a few eyes flicked away, their interest peaked by the rough and tumble man who clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Your boyfriend.” Benny rolled his eyes, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair, and gazed around the space. He smiled wolfishly at an old lady who immediately averted her eyes. “You find it ironic that you went from dating a man on one side of the law and then immediately jumped into bed with a guy on the other?”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I did not immediately - Look I didn’t like you when we ran in the same circles so if you’d be so kind as to show yourself to the door.”

“Right back at’cha, sweet cheeks.” Benny grinned. “But the prez sent me on an errand and I gotta complete it.” Benny’s face turned serious as he leaned over the table, lowering his voice.“Some shit’s about to go down.”

Castiel blinked then leaned in as well, his own voice a low rumble. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Benny snorted. “Look I dunno if your new boyfriend talks shop with you but the Demons aren’t taking too kindly to his new two strikes policy. They put out a hit on him.”

Castiel squinted at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Benny examined his fingernails. “Figured you’d wanna know.”

Castiel bit his lower lip, thinking. “No. No, you wouldn’t come here-“

Benny sat up straighter in his chair. “You’re right I wouldn’t. But the VP gives an order, I follow it.” Benny leaned closer. 

Castiel clenched his jaw. “Dean sent you.”

Benny lifted his hands and clapped loudly four times, drawing every eye in the room to them. Castiel sunk down in his seat. “Now you’re catching on.” Benny grinned, eyeing Castiel. “So, what is it like fucking the D.A. fresh off bein’ a biker’s old lady?” Benny gestured loosely. “So to speak.”

“You need to leave.” Castiel nodded towards the door. “Now. You have no right to interrupt my lunch-“

“Looks like I was interrupting you being stood up, but okay.”

“-with bullshit. I told Dean to stay out of my life and I meant it. Sending you instead is not a loophole. It’s a waste of your time.”

Benny snorted. “Don’t I know it.” He sucked his teeth. “But say I am right. And your shining beacon of civil obedience does have a price on his head. Would meeting him for lunch right now really be that good of an idea.”

Castiel grit his teeth. “If Dean thinks he can come in and disrupt my-“

“Hello, darling. So sorry I’m late.” A man in a dark suit, impeccably tailored, rushed by, leaning to peck Castiel on the cheek. When his eyes fell on Benny he barely even blinked. “Benny Laffitte, where’s your kutte, it’s not often you see a Man of Mayhem out of uniform unless it’s in my courtroom.”

Benny gave him a wan smile. “Crowley. Just passing on information to your beau here. I’ll be on my way.” Benny stood from his seat, towering over Crowley

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “What information is that, pray tell?”

Benny grinned down at him. “I ain’t no snitch, Mr. Prosecutor. Ask your boy.” Benny gave Castiel a nod before he swaggered away, a hush following him through the room so that the clang of his hand on the glass door rang out when he exited.

Castiel sat back, chewing his bottom lip as Crowley took his seat, grabbing the napkin on his plate and draping it in his lap. “You want to tell me what that was all about.” Crowley reached for the bottle of water on the table, tipping some into his goblet then topping off Castiel’s.

Castiel brooded for a moment. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just…”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Just?”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Dean thinks the Demons have a hit out on you.”

Crowley blinked, setting the bottle back down. “Well, it’s a good thing you were never inducted into The Cemetery Boys because you fold like a cheap suit my love.”

“Oh shut up,” Castiel groused, reaching for his water glass but he was smiling by the time it touched his lips. Crowley gave him a smirk. “So… it’s ridiculous right?”

Crowley raised his brows, hooking his elbows on the table and holding one hand in the other. “Oh know they have a bounty on my head.”

Castiel choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“No need to worry, darling. It’s merely a formality so they look tough for all the other little gangs around town.” Crowley sipped at his water. 

“The MC never put hits out on anyone just to look tough,” Castiel objected, looking horrified and Crowley lifted a brow.

“Oh did they put them out for other reasons?”

Castiel’s eyes went flat. “The Cemetery Boys are a group of motorcycle enthusiasts. The worst thing they’re guilty of is drinking too much on a weeknight.” Castiel scoffed when Crowley smirked.

“Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering, sports betting-“

“Alright, alright,” Castiel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked around the room for a moment before glancing back at his boyfriend. “You’re safe though?”

Crowley’s eyes softened, his hand reaching across the table. Castiel took it. “I’m touched. Yes, safe as houses.”

#

When Castiel pulled into his apartment complex that evening after work he couldn’t help but notice the Harley parked across the street from his building. A young man was sitting astride it, eyes on his phone. Castiel slammed the door to his car watching as the young man jumped and met his eyes before he immediately looked down again. Castiel sighed, striding over with purposeful steps.

“Hello, Sam.”

The young man looked up, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes before he shook it back. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel looked around. “Where’s your brother?”

Sam shifted. “Dunno.”

“He wouldn’t have you here by yourself. Where is he?”

Sam’s face screwed up, indignant. “Hey, I’m a Prospect now!” He twisted so Castiel could get a look at the designation on the back of his leather vest.

Castiel’s brow creased. “I thought you were going to Stanford.”

Sam’s head dipped, fiddling with his phone again. “Nah, I belong here. With my family.”

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sam, you wanted to be a lawyer.”

Sam shrugged him off. “Yeah well, now I wanna be a Cemetery Boy. What do you care anyway? You left.”

Castiel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was with Dean for a long time-“

“Yeah. And you left.”

“-and you know why I left. It’s why you left too.”

Sam leveled his gaze on Castiel. “Yeah. And I came back.” He paused. “It’s not safe for you right now. Crowley’s got a detail but you don’t. He should be protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Sam!” Castiel sighed exasperatedly. “And if I did it wouldn’t be your job to do it. Or Dean’s.”

Sam shifted, his hazel eyes going soft in a way that Castiel knew was going to hit him right in the gut. “You could come back too. You don’t have to pledge-“

Castiel started to laugh. “Yeah, no. I’ve moved on.” Castiel made to turn away. “Tell your brother he should do the same.”

“He has!” Sam called after him, voice petulant. “New girl every night!”

Castiel’s eyes cut over his shoulder at Sam before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

#

The creak of his bedroom door woke Castiel from a dead sleep at 2:13 am. His eyes opened to his alarm clock, fluttered for a moment as his brain cleared. The sound of a hammer locking into place brought everything into sharp perspective and before he even took a breath he’d rolled off the side of the bed, the gunshot booming impossibly loud in the silent room. 

He didn’t have a weapon, had always hated guns, but crouched between his closet and his mattress he would have given anything to have Dean’s pearl-handled .45. He’d give anything to have Dean here. The sound of boots on hardwood thunked closer and Castiel stood abruptly, grabbed a pillow and threw it. 

It hit the intruder in the face and the gun went off again, the flash bringing spots to Castiel’s vision as he rushed the guy, knocking him hard in Castiel’s dresser. The intruder was trying to get the gun up and Castiel grabbed for the lamp, smashing it over the guy’s head as he made a break for the door. Pinballing off the hallway walls he tripped into the living room just as his front door was kicked in.

Dean Winchester charged forward, reaching for Castiel on instinct and shoving him behind him. The intruder emerged from the bedroom, gun outstretched and Dean brought the bat he held up and swung. The sickening crack of a wrist breaking, followed by an inhuman howl of pain turned Castiel’s stomach and he had to hold on to the back of his couch to keep from hitting the floor. Another sickening crack of the bat and the horrid sucking sound of a man trying to pull in a breath his body won’t accept.

“Dean.” Castiel turned his head, immediately snapping his eyes shut when he saw Dean raise the bat over his head but thanks to the sound of it cracking across the intruder’s back, Castiel’s brain unhelpfully provided him with a visual. “Dean! Please!”

Dean froze bat aloft and looked over, finding Castiel hanging on to the back of his couch, legs trembling beneath him. He was sucking in breath through his nose and letting it out of his mouth slowly as if trying not to vomit. Dean dropped the bat.

“‘ey Cas,” Dean grabbed his biceps and immediately pulled him to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“W-w-who was that. What….what’s happening?”

Dean petted his hair, sucking in a deep breath as Castiel’s arms went around him feebly, Castiel leaning all his weight against Dean. Dean pressed his face to the top of Castiel’s head. “Nothin’ for you to worry about. You’re safe now.”

#

“I want a uniformed officer on this building at all times. No one should come in and out of here without express clearance. Is that clear!?”

Dean and Castiel watched from where they stood leaning against the back of the couch as Crowley continued his rampage. Dean leaned towards Castiel.

“He’s pretty intimidating for a short guy. I’ll admit it.” Dean shrugged and Castiel cut his eyes at him.

“He’s not short. You and your brother are just freakishly tall.”

“He’s shorter than you.”

“I too am taller than average.”

Dean pounced. “Since when do you like average?”

Castiel’s head whipped to look at him. “Since it generally follows the law.”

Dean made a face. “A whole hell of a lot of good it did you tonight.”

“Winchester, what are you even doing here!” It seemed that Crowley’s tirade had finally turned to him and Dean gave him a placid smile.

“Oh just taking care of Cas here. You know. What you should have been doing.”

Castiel raised a hand. “Hey, hey now. This was no one’s fault.”

“Really,” Dean asked, his eyes ablaze as he glanced at Castiel and then lanced Crowley with a heated stare. “Last time I checked, D. A. Douchebag here had a security detail. Why wasn’t he protected, huh?”

“There were no credible threats on-”

“It’s the Demons, Crowley!” Dean shook his head, his face slack in disbelief. “They always make good on their threats. He should have had someone on him from the second you got the intel two days ago.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel looked to Crowley astonished. “Fergus, is he telling the truth? Did you know about this and not tell me?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, looking supremely satisfied as Crowley’s face soured. He looked from Dean to Castiel. “Darling,” Crowley took Castiel’s hands in his, leading him away from Dean. “I would never put you in harm’s way. I’m appalled you’d even think it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to the intel. I thought…” Crowley pursed his lips. “I thought no one would dare go after you.” His eyes cut to Dean, gaze hateful. “I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean accused, pointing a finger at Crowley. “And it almost got him killed.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighed, holding up a hand.

“What? Cas you can’t possibly be giving him a pass on this.” Dean’s voice was indignant.

“Dean you can’t possibly think that he knowingly let this happen.”

“I think something stinks in here and it ain’t the biker,” Dean snapped.

Castiel sighed, reaching for Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the door. ‘Thank you. For… for…”

“Saving you,” Dean supplied and Castiel fought the roll of his eyes.

“Yes, thank you for that, but I think the police have it from here.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer into Castiel. “I don’t trust him, Cas. There’s something really fishy about this.”

“You’re paranoid, Dean.”

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

Castiel sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“You should come to the clubhouse. It’s safe and no one would-“

“Good night, Dean.”

Den pressed his lips together, throwing one last scowl over his shoulder at Crowley before giving Castiel a pleading look that went unanswered. He heaved a sigh and left.

#

Castiel laid awake a long time after Crowley had fallen asleep, listening to his light snores. They’d talked after the police cleared out, Crowley apologizing profusely for not taking the threat more seriously. Something continued to niggle at Castiel, some deep-seated intuition that wouldn’t let him sleep.

Castiel: Dean?

Dean: Yeah, Cas.

Castiel: I wasn’t sure if you still had this number

Dean: Looks like I do.

Dean: Everything okay?

Castiel’s thumbs hovered over the screen as he chewed his bottom lip. 

Castiel: Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine. I’m sorry for bothering you.

Dean: It’s no bother Cas. Message me any time.

Dean: Or call. 

Castiel put his phone back on the bedside table and resettled but sleep didn’t come.

#

Castiel’s unease stayed with him through the morning and well into the next afternoon. Crowley had assured him that the threat on him had been neutralized but agreed to keep a uniform officer on him when Castiel didn’t let up. He couldn’t focus at work, his mind drifting to Crowley and what he was doing, who he was talking to. Was he safe? Was Castiel? By the time evening came, he had a pretty terrible headache and a determination to get some answers.

Rocky’s Bar is a ramshackle establishment off route 6 that Castiel had hoped to never set foot in. The fact that the Cemetery Boys ran nightclubs all over town was a well-known fact as was their reputation for keeping order in these establishments. Castiel just wasn’t much for strip clubs, especially those run by his ex-boyfriend. 

Stepping inside he expected to smell cigar smoke and sex but instead was greeted by a pleasant, feminine scent, sweet and cloying but not overbearing. He spotted Dean immediately behind the bar, grinning at a scantily clad woman as he loaded drinks onto her tray. Castiel stamped down the flare of jealousy in his gut.

Dean was watching the show now, eyes on the girl spinning on the pole as he wiped down glasses behind the bar. Castiel sidled up and it took Dean a minute to look at him. When he did he dropped the glass he’d been wiping so that it shattered on the floor. 

“Shit!” Dean hopped back to avoid glass spraying over the toes of his boots. “Cas? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I need answers.”

Dean had moved down the bar going for a broom that was tucked in a corner. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Castiel. His jaw tightened as he turned away again, snatching the broom and coming back over to sweep up his mess.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“I did,” Castiel said, pausing to watch Dean methodically push glass into the dustpan. “Now I’m asking you.”

“What’d he tell you?” Dean set the broom and dustpan aside, crossing his arms over his chest and Castiel was not at all distracted by the flex of his biceps and the way his shirt stretched around his muscles. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, just a black v-neck and jeans.

“That I was safe. That the threat had been neutralized.”

Dean’s eyes widened just the slightest bit before his face went dangerously blank. He turned his head, looking down the bar, and then returned his gaze to the stage. Castiel huffed, annoyed, and stepped into his line of sight.

“Do you ever get tired of looking at tits?”

Dean snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to stomp off. “Never mind. I don’t even know why I bothered to come here.”

Dean was out from behind the bar in a microsecond, reaching for Castiel’s arm before worming in front of him, blocking his exit. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You want answers? I’ll give them to you. Just… “ Dean looked around and his eyes landed on something over Castiel's shoulder. He cocked his head back and Castiel glanced back to see Benny dutifully pulling himself up from an armchair and making his way over. He begrudgingly took Dean’s place behind the bar.

Upstairs in the office, Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. It was a tiny space, just big enough for the large desk and a few filing cabinets. Dean wormed his way behind the desk and Castiel forced himself into the small armchair across from him. There were posters of half-naked women on the walls and Castiel was once again struck with an extreme sense of inadequacy. Dean loved women, but Castiel knew Dean has also loved him.

“So you wanna hear word on the street or just straight facts?” Dean was pulling out a bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers along with two mugs. One of them was the one Castiel got him for Christmas two years ago that said “Send Noods” with a bowl of Ramen noodles. 

“Let's start with facts,” Castiel said showing Dean his palm, declining the drink. Dean shrugged and poured himself one.

“The fact is that the Demons are going after Crowley and the people close to him.” Dean picked up his mug. “You.” He sipped. “They’re using out of towners, seasoned guys not prospects.” Dean’s eyes leveled on Castiel. “That makes it a serious threat.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, shifting in his seat.

“Prospects are idiots,” Dean waved a hand then pursed his lips. “My brother excluded.” Dean shook his head. “You don’t give important jobs to prospects. They’re meant for grunt work and low-level intimidation. That guy I clubbed in your apartment was a Nomad - an out-of-state-er, no home club. Meant to blow in and out of town, generally used for serious shit they don’t want traced back to the local club.”

“O-kay.”

Dean sighed, seemingly annoyed that Castiel wasn’t understanding something. “These guys are one step down from trained assassins, Cas. It was a serious threat.”

“Why would Crowley lie to me?” Castiel burst out and Dean downed the rest of his drink.

“I dunno, Cas. Why do you think?”

Castiel bristled. “Oh, I guess you have an opinion?”

Dean gave him a smarmy grin. “Oh, I have several.”

“This is stupid.” Castiel threw his hands in the air. “I shouldn’t have come here.” 

Castiel made to leave but Dean stood, gripping his wrist and refusing to let go. “Cas, wait. Come on. This is serious okay? I assume he put a uni on you?”

“Yeah but I ditched him,” Castiel settled back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean rubbed his face hard. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want Crowley to know I came to you, Dean. Why do you think?” Castiel scoffed shaking his head and Dean set his jaw.

“What he got a problem with me or something?”

Castiel gave him a deadpan stare the lifted a finger, counting off each, “Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering-“

Dean hissed waving his hands at Castiel. “Alright alright, enough.” Dean sighed. “Word on the street is that Alaistair put the hit out because your boyfriend,” Dean looked disgusted as he said it, “is trying to go maximum sentence when he’s only at two strikes.”

“Didn’t Alaistair maim and torture two immigrant women?”

“Yeah, but they were stealing his coke when they were supposed to be muling it.”

Castiel blinked. “So he tortured and maimed them?”

Dean gave a shrug.

Castiel felt his stomach go cold. “Do you do that?”

Dean gave a shrug then smiled. “We don’t run drugs, Cas. We’re just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “That’s it? That’s all the information you have?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “There’s some other things. In-fighting and some club shit you don’t need to know but it’s not relevant to you or your safety.”

“But it’s about Crowley?”

Dean gave a short nod.

“What is it?”

Dean reached up to rub his chin, the scratch of his stubble barely heard over the thumping bass in the club below. “He’s paying off some officers on the force.”

Castiel’s brow crinkled. “What? Why?”

Dean shrugged. “No idea.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Okay so I have some idea but it’s just a gut feeling. And you only wanted facts.”

Castiel frowned. “Tell me.”

“He’s going to make a bid for mayor right?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh… yeah he’s been thinking about- how did you-?”

Dean waved a hand. “Guys like him only want power. And he’ll do anything to get it. He’s set all his pieces on the board. Stellar win record in court, charitable donations to all the right charities…” Dean eyed Castiel. “Wholesome, attractive man on his arm.” Castiel fought a blush, looking at his lap. “But he needs an edge.”

“What kind of edge.”

Dean tilted his head. “That I don’t know.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Are you going to continue to have someone in the club tail me?”

“Do you want me to have someone in the club tailing you?” Castiel hesitated. “I’ll keep Sam on you.”

# 

Castiel was driving home from the club when his car was sideswiped by a large panel van. Dazed and dizzy he could barely process that he was being dragged from the car. A man smelling of whiskey and day-old sweat pulled him up before punching him solidly in the jaw. Castiel’s ears rang as something solid ran into his assailant, knocking Castiel out of his grasp and Castiel fell back against the fender of his car, trying to focus.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed down the empty highway. Castiel heard a shout and someone scuffling before two meaty hands gripped the lapels of his trench coat and began to drag him towards the back of the van. Castiel began to struggle, eyes trying to focus and he saw Sam Winchester fighting against two men in black hoodies and face masks, his wide reach the only thing keeping him up in that fight. 

A twin engine sounded in the distance and Castiel felt his heart clench, struggling harder as two sets of hands tried to haul him up into the back of the van. He could barely see, the old two-lane road unlit except for the headlight of the bike as it drew nearer and the broken headlights of the van crunched into the side of his car. Castiel’s feet were leaving the ground as he was lifted bodily and he yelled out despite himself. 

“No! Let me go! Get off me! Help! Help!”

“Get off him you son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice rang out in the silent night, the motor on his bike dying as he skidded to a halt and let it drop to the ground as he vaulted off of it. He fired off a round into the air, everyone around him cringing down and looking his way. 

“Shit, Dean Winchester,” one of them muttered, dropping Castiel immediately and it was enough for Castiel to break free.

Without thinking he ran towards Dean, throwing his body at him and Dean accepted him with open arms, cocooning him in a tight embrace. Castiel clutched him close, fear pumping through his veins, heart galloping so hard in his chest he felt sick from it. He heard boots on gravel and one of Dean’s arms shot out, pointing the gun at the man who tried to approach.

“Stay out of this Winchester.”

The gun fired and Castiel gave a small cry, pressing his face hard into Dean’s shoulder trying to block out the distinct sound of a body hitting the pavement. 

“Anyone else got something to say?!” Dean shouted, his other arm still wrapped tight around Castiel. “You.” Dean gestured with the gun. “Tell Alaistair he comes near Castiel Novak again, he’ll be shitting his own teeth for a week.”

A high laugh bubbled from behind Castiel and he gripped Dean tighter at the icy sound. “We don’t work for Alaistair. Don’t you know, Winchester? There’s a new God in town and he’s playing for keeps.”

The gun went off again and someone howled in pain. “I’m not much for riddles,” Dean spit. 

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Cas.”

Castiel shut up, keeping his chin tucked over Dean’s shoulder.

“He calls himself Lucifer,” A trembling voice hissed. “He’s working with the prosecutor.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. He felt Dean swallow hard.

“How?” Dean’s voice was more a command than a question.

“To take over the Demons. Alaistair goes down and he’s the new leader. Anyone who stands against him dies.”

“What’s in it for Crowley?” Dean demanded.

“Mayor,” Sam chimed in, his voice astonished. “He puts Alasiatr away, the infighting stops and there’s peace on the streets again.”

“What does this have to do with Cas?” Dean redoubled his grip and Castiel tried to keep himself from trembling. Silence. Another gunshot, this time followed by rapid-fire speech.

“Jesus! Okay, okay! He wants him dead.”

“Lucifer? Why?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied and Castiel knew before Sam even said it. “Crowley.”

“What?” Dean’s voice was astonished, his gun lowering a bit and Castiel merely closed his eyes, turning his face into Dean’s neck.

“You said it yourself. He needs an edge,” Sam’s voice was almost giddy with understanding. “What’s better than a dead husband?”

Dean’s entire body stiffened. “They aren’t married.”

Castiel curled in more, his throat feeling as if it might burst. “Not yet. I found the ring. He was going to ask soon.”

Dean growled softly. “Alright, you and you, listen up. Anyone comes near Castiel Novak and they’ll deal with the Cemetery Boys. You want a war you fucking got one. Now get your friend out of here before he bleeds out on the side of the road. Sammy, call a tow and wait with the car. Cas,” Dean’s voice softened as he turned his head, nose brushing in Castiel’s hair. “You’re with me.”

Castiel didn’t object.

#

Castiel wasn’t fully cognizant of anything that was happening to him until he found himself being helped into a pair of Dean’s sweat pants in the room above the clubhouse. Dean had practically carried him up the stairs, sat him on a chair, and chattered at him about anything and everything while he went about putting clean sheets on the bed. 

Castiel shivered as Dean guided his arms through an old club t-shirt, one that Castiel used to sleep in when he and Dean had been together. Why had he ever left Dean? He’d been so mad for so long he couldn’t even remember why anymore. And given the night’s events, he was sure it was small and insignificant in comparison to everything he’d done for Castiel tonight.

“Dean.” Castiel reached for his hip and Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s biceps, steadying him.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”

Castiel acquiesced though reluctantly as Dean guided him over to the bed. The mattress was lumpy but the linens smelled like fresh laundry and Castiel curled up as Dean tucked him in. Castiel caught his wrist when Dean made to move away.

“Stay. Please.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Cas, I-“

“I just want you to hold me.” Castiel knew he’d likely feel shame later but right now all he wanted was comfort. “Please.”

Dean was perilous to stop himself, toeing out of his boots and letting his jeans fall to the floor. He shrugged out of his kutte, hanging it on the arm of the chair before tossing his flannel aside and slid between cool sheets next to Castiel. Dean chuckled as he was immediately enveloped, Castiel latching onto him like an octopus, and god, how he’d missed this.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured into his chest and Dean shivered at his warm breath on the bare skin of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. Dean. I’m sorry.” He was starting to hyperventilate and Dean held him tighter.

“Shhh, calm down, Cas. It’s okay. You were just… It doesn’t matter. I forgive you okay. Don’t freak out, just breathe.”

“How could I be so stupid?” Castiel panted, his eyes squeezing shut. “How could I not see it?”

“Well Crowley is a slimy, lying son of a bitch and you’re… well… you trust people too easy, Cas.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you do. It’s something I love about you but only when I’m around to look out for you.”

“I never should have left.” Silence stretched. “Dean?”

“I’m not gonna argue with you.”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he huffed a laugh. “You’re an asshole.” They were silent for a moment. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I got some lube in the drawer over th- OW!” Dean winced as Castiel pinched his nipple hard. “Easy on the goods.”

“I meant about Crowley.”

“Oh, you should definitely break up with him,” Dean nuzzled his nose into Castiel’s hair and received another, less severe, nipple tweak. 

“We can’t go to the police.”

“Nope.”

“So what do we do.”

“We’ve got church tomorrow. I’ll bring it up.”

Castiel sat up, gazing down at Dean. “You’re gonna get the club involved?”

“Honey, we’re already involved. You fuck with one of us you fuck with all of us. They hurt you. They’re lucky I only blew out their knee caps and not their skulls.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped shut. “Jesus, Dean please don’t kill anyone.”

“Aw, Cas you’re no fun.”

“This isn’t funny!”

Dean’s face turned sober. “I know. I’m sorry, I know it isn’t. Look, we can’t do anything tonight, but I promise you, you’re safe here. YOu’re safe with me.” Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s. 

“And we’ll just… figure out the rest?” Castiel gazed up at Dean, taking in the dusting of freckles across his nose. A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. We’ll make it up as we go.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

SWAT Guy (Part 4)

(gif by @supernatural-jackles​)

Summary: Dean and Sam have a setback in their case and decide getting drunk is the best course of action. The boys end up sharing some of their darker memories with one another but it might be exactly what they need to crack the case...

Masterlist

Pairing: SWAT officer!Dean x reader

Square: In Vino Veritas

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: language, smidge of angst

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Sam is the reader’s brother. This was written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. Enjoy!…

_______

“Hey guys,” you said. They both grunted from the couch as you put the pizza box and other bag on top of the counter. “How was work? Any news in the case?”

“Not yet,” said Dean, Sam knocking back his drink. You caught the empty bottle of bourbon on the counter while you washed up, knowing for a fact it was half full the night before.

“Are you guys drunk?” you asked. 

“Yup,” said Sam, leaning his head back over the edge of the couch. He giggled and Dean started to laugh. You rolled your eyes and got out a few pieces of pizza and fries for them, putting them on plates and carrying them over. 

“May I ask why you two are drunk?” you asked while you fixed up your own plate.

“A bunch of shit went missing from the arsenal today,” said Dean. “They had the balls to drill under the building in the middle of last night.”

“Zero leads,” said Sam, taking a big bite.

“Something bad is going down. Real bad. Like stay the fuck home the next few days,” said Dean. Sam hummed around his food and you took a seat next to Dean. “It’s gonna be a fucking shit show when it goes down.”

“You guys are trained for that kind of thing,” said Sam, making a mess on his shirt as he scarfed down his food.

“They have our equipment. People could die,” said Dean. 

“Yeah but you gotta try still,” said Sam, eating four fries at once. “I mean I got PTSD from that guy and I still go catch murderers every day.”

Dean’s head snapped in your direction and you slumped down.

“You have PTSD?” asked Dean. 

“Yeah, he does,” you said quietly.

“Guy broke in our house when we were teenagers. Killed our parents. Almost got us too,” said Sam before he burped.

“Your parents were murdered?” said Dean. You nodded and took a small bite of pizza. “I’m sorry. Did they catch the guy?”

“It was a long time ago. Eventually yeah. He got life, no parole. I didn’t see or hear anything really. Sam came in my room and put me on his back and hopped out the window with me and ran us to a neighbors house. He’s the one that…”

“Saw it?” said Dean. Sam nodded and reached for his empty glass. “Yeah. I’ve seen my fair share of fucked up shit too.”

“I was so fucking jealous when you transferred to us,” said Sam with a laugh. “I heard about Denver. You go through that and here you come in all normal and cool and happy and I’m the one still going to therapy for something that happened nearly fifteen years ago.”

“The grass ain’t any greener over here,” said Dean. He was looking far more sober than Sam, one of his arms curling around your waist. “We can’t save everyone Sam. You were a kid. You saved the one you could and that is all we can do.”

“Did you really lose your family in Denver?” asked Sam. You knew Dean’s family had died suddenly a few years ago but he’d only ever implied it was an accident, nothing more.

“It was my mom’s birthday. Everyone was staying the night at the old house. My father was working on a case with the mafia. It was a pretty bad night.”

“How’d you…” you said, Dean smiling softly at you.

“Luck. I spent a month in the ICU. I have nightmares from work, don’t get me wrong. But mostly they’re about that night,” he said. He got up and took Sam’s glass away, replacing it with a bottle of water. “Next time we get drunk, it’s cause we caught this son of a bitch, not a pity party. Got me Sammy?”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, I’m not. But she’s my girl which makes you my boy and I was a Hell of a big brother if I don’t say so myself. So. Let’s eat, sober up, and tomorrow let’s try to catch these guys. Alright?”

Sam ripped off a chunk of his pizza and hummed. Dean sat down beside you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Eat your dinner, baby,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m sorry,” you said in bed that night after Dean told you about what had happened in Denver. “It sounds like a horror movie.”

“It was. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” he said as you had your arms wrapped around his back. He had himself tucked into you, his head under your chin. “But I’ve felt more like my old self the past few months. Met this sweet girl, makes me feel better.”

“I love you.” He turned his head up, smiling at you.

“You love me? Why?”

“You make me happy and I care about you. I wish you were as happy as you make me feel.”

“I was low before you. I hid it was all. But you do make me happy. You and Sam. I feel like I have a family again maybe,” he said.

“You do,” you said, kissing him slowly, lingering your lips together. “I got you tonight and every other night. I promise.”

“Good morning,” you yawned, both boys working at the kitchen table with their laptops. You gave Dean a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair before resting your chin on top of his head. “You had no nightmares.”

“Nope,” said Dean with a smile. You peered down at his screen, Sam sipping on a cup of coffee. “How’s it going over there?”

“I think you’re onto something with that theory of yours.”

“What’s the theory?” you asked.

“Well,” said Dean, encouraging you to take a seat on his lap. “I was thinking, most crap in that room you can get on the black market. But then it hit me, it wasn’t about them getting it.”

“It was making sure the cops didn't have it. Whatever they’re doing is going down today and would require SWAT to use that specific equipment they stole,” said Sam. You hummed and Sam turned around his laptop. “You know more about this stuff than me-“

“You’re a better investigator than I am,” said Dean, taking hold of Sam’s laptop. His eyes flickered over top of the screen and he smiled.

“You think that’s it?” asked Sam.

“I think we got it Sammy boy.”

One Month Later

“Well don’t you two look all cute with your awards,” you said. Sam rolled his eyes but Dean took it as an opportunity to gave you a big fat kiss.

“I am literally right here,” said Sam.

“That ain’t my problem,” said Dean. Sam smacked in him the back of the head after you’d broken apart and Dean flicked his ear back.

“Boys,” you said as the chief of the station walked over.

“Enjoying your party boys?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” they both responded, a small smile crossing the chief’s lips.

“Maybe this will be a reminder that working across departments can be a good thing going forward. I’d like you two to head up any joint task force efforts that may fall under either of your purviews,” he said, both boys nodding. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Well,” said Dean after the chief had walked away. “I say we get Sammy a girl tonight to celebrate.”

“Yes!”

“No!” groaned Sam.

“Little hottie from the press office in the green dress over there has not been shy about eyeing you up and down,” said Dean. Sam spun his head around and rolled his eyes. 

“That’s just Eileen guys. We’re friends.”

“Eileen! Sam wants to dance!” you called across the way as you pushed Sam over towards her.

“I’m gonna kill you!” muttered Sam, all smiles by the time Eileen was there.

“This is why I love you,” said Dean, kissing your temple and reaching behind you, trying to steal the last jalapeno popper off your plate. 

“Thief,” you said, picking it up. You held it up to his mouth and he took a big bite, grinning after he’d swallowed. “You know...I know we said you’d move back home when this all settled down but we could...you know.”

“I think I’m sticking around home for a while if that’s alright with you,” said Dean. You grinned and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I kinda got this no nightmare streak going lately and I’d hate to mess with that.”

“More than alright with me, babe,” you said as you kissed the top of his head. “More than alright.”

___________

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 226

Book of the Damned

“Book of the Damned”

Plot Description: When Charlie calls to say she’s found the Book of the Damned, the brier he’s race to meet her. But someone else is not on her trail too

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Charlie might have the training and skills to get out of this alive, but u don’t think I would

Pfffft, Castiel not allowing Metatron ANY form of pleasure, not even songs he might like

Cas complaining to Sam over the phone that he just wants to kill Metatron right now. I love him. Man, when he said that Metatron was his new punching bag, he MEANT it

The way Sam is now finding out that the Mark is a curse and Rowena is Crowley’s mom in one conversation like Dean just forgot to tell him

The actual look of hope in Dean’s eyes when Charlie says she’s got a book that can cure any form of damnation.

*noises of discomfort* Dean’s TOO happy about this. Things are going TOO well. “The Boys Are Back In Town” is playing in the impala. Sam is SMILING. I don’t think I wanna know how poorly this is going to turn

WARNING: DEAN WANTS TO GO ON A BEACH VACATION WHEN THIS IS ALL DONE. I can’t handle how this might turn out

I’m trying to piece together why Dean touching the book is a bad thing. I mean, obviously because the completely dissociated and was hearing strange whispers, but why did that happen?

I’m also curious as to who the undercover angel in the diner (at least I’m guessing they’re an angel) is going to be going after, Cas or Metatron or both

Both, I guess. Holy shit… what if that was the Cupid from way back? Welp, guess it doesn’t matter, Metatron just killed him saving Cas’s life

The book is weird and gross and is having a bad effect on everyone in the cabin. I’d love to be done with it

Poor Dean…oh they’re finally having this out. The what happens when Dean can’t fight the Mark anymore fight

“We’ll do what we need to and deal with the consequences later” the Winchester way

Sam, you say you didn’t mean what you said to Dean about him saving you from the Trials, but…it was really convincing when you said it and then left

Oh…oh, Cas…no one deserves to have their entire raison d’etre questioned like that but Metatron’s not completely wrong. What IS your mission now? Is it purely still atonement for what you’ve been involved in doing to heaven (purposely or unwittingly)?

Goddammit. No. Nonononono, Metatron should have never been trusted without the handcuffs. Fuck Metatron

Sam’s an interesting study (or the writers are inconsistent). He’s somehow come to realize how much he loves hunting with Dean (would have been nice to see that progression), and when faced with having to say out loud what he’d do if he couldn’t do that anymore because Dean was gone, he can’t finish the sentence (though last time that happened for a YEAR, he settled down really quickly)

Cas’s wings have seen better days but he’s got his grace back 🎉🎉🎉 at the cost of losing Metatron and the Demon tablet…oh yes, the Demon tablet is back

So now we’ve got confirmation from the family who’ve guarded and used the book for their own nefarious purposes that it CAN cure the Mark but OF COURSE at a super high price, and we gotta get Charlie outta there

$20 says Sam doesn’t actually burn it…that he actually just burned his notes on it…

All this time, and I didn’t realize Cas and Charlie have never met??

CHARLIE. You need to not be wearing so many layers…is that a Lumberjanes shirt?!?! Like the Nate Stevenson created comic??? IS IT?! (After a google search, inconclusive. But to me it is…)

Cas healed Charlie’s carpal tunnel and bullet wound and Charlie asks him if they just became best friends. I wish they would be.

Fuck…I KNEW IT. I knew he didn’t burn the real book. Before the reveal of who’s on the other side of the table from Sam, I’m gonna take….I’m gonna take one guess, actually. I think it might be Crowley (based on the fact that they have his contact info FOR SURE), but runners up are Metatron and Rowena.

ROWENA!!!!!!!!! Oh, amazing move. Sam, you are an absolute moron, but I’m so excited to see that it’s her. She’s who I WANTED it to be but I couldn’t figure out how Sam would have gotten in contact with her

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 03x14

Long Distance Call

🎶they’re going to talk to the other side🎶 “that’s my guess anyway”

“That little shaky face thing Jensen did during the demon scene was perfect horror”

🎶drugs and alcohol yeahhyeahh🎶

“Drinking like that at night gives me a headache”

It’s true. Spouse can’t handle his liquor anymore

“Sha33? That sounds like an encryption thing but it’s not”

“oh yeah. Isn’t the person dead but begging the people to kill themselves?”

“Can’t remember what Sha33 stands for. I think I remember this one though? So I can pick up nuance details like the drapes, which are very drape colored”

“Well you didn’t break it hard enough dude”

“like squishing a grape but maybe more like hitting the grape with a tennis racket”

“he’s literally talking with his mouth full”

Pointed out that Dean hasn’t worn John’s jacket for a while

“Even Jensen can make eating with his mouth full look sexy. It just takes my breath away. You know how it is”

“Linda Bateman or Linda Babeman?”


“So when a trucker uses a piss jug, and if they die randomly, and they’re super angry, are they still floating around as spirits too? Are they tied to their piss jug? Am I tied to my piss? If I die angry, will I come back, too? Do all I have to do is piss in a bottle and make it so that if I die, I get to haunt you? Or do I need to add fingernails and stuff, too?”

What in the actual fuck

“Is the guy actually going to run the number?”

Why would you want to jerk off at work? Ew.

‘Idk why they put that in there”

“I feel like if thats going to make it worse to tell the kid that she isn’t crazy, because she’s going to believe her mom now”

“I don’t remember that part”

“If it really is dad, you got a man on the inside and figure out how to get out of your hell deal”

“very 70s divider. Oh maybe 60s. Idk”

“I know they made that cringey on purpose, but it still cringed”

“They had Caller ID back then. I guess that’s the joke”

“oh shit. The demon is here or whatever the fuck”

“Fkn instant messenger, dude”

“Oh my goddddddddd”

“I’ve always as a kid thought it was funny that computers are so expensive and do all of this gene-folding calculations, but we just use them to talk to people.”

“Is Mom going to come out of the computer?”

“How many more until Castiel?”

“No evidence it can’t? That’s very positive way to think of things”

“That’s how these things work, though. Dean gets the call after Sam leaves so of course Dean is going to go somewhere; it’s what he does”

“911 emergency”

“what in the McDonald’s shit is this?”

“that’s the dramatization I’d expect - hundreds vs millions.”

“Simon be fkn dead yo”

“making holy water in a plastic jug”

“He didn’t stop? He would’ve stopped”

“Is it the gross telephone guy after all?”

“that was unfortunate, but that’s what you get for messing with the phone company dill weed”

“nice”

“is he deep-throating this bitch or what?”

“Isn’t there some other creature like the Darkness that eats souls too or something?”

“I want raspberries. All that jelly on the knife makes me want butter bread”

I wish I could convey how much I say “I’m not writing that down” during each episode

“Not much has changed in the last 15 years - we’re even more connected nowadays. It could be worse or better; depends on how you look at it”

“this is going to be a really awkward conversation for dean once he’s done fighting that guy”

“Oh hell yeah brother. Skewer that bitch”

“Splat”

“that’s not a very good answer dean”

“stupid fkn looks”

“Without the extra expressiveness, this show would have sucked so bad”

Jensen really brought Dean to life

“Douche”

“they made up with a beer. It’s fine”

[sillysunshinesstuff]

The Absolute Fuckery that was 15x20

Ok there were a lot of reasons why the final was bad. Like so many fucking reasons. Even without the queerbaiting,this is some of the worst writing I’ve ever seen and here’s a few reasons why: 

Destiel

Yes. Big main reason here. They should not have included a confession and have one of the main plots of season 15 be Castiel’s and Dean’s relationship if they didn’t intend to follow through in any way. It shouldn’t have been introduced because the story became disjointed and thematically unsatisfying due to not being addressed in the final in any sort of way. Also, queerbaiting in 2020? Just to get your views up for the last few episodes because they knew Supernatural had become a shit show of bad ratings? Calculated and cruel toward the LGBTQIA+ community who has supported their careers for years. 

Saileen

The absolute least they could have done was see this plot point through but they did not. We do not know if Eileen lives and even if they release information that she did, it’s still bullshit because we don’t get to see any part of her story. She has been reduced to a two dimensional character with no agency or purpose. Another woman just meant to prop up the male lead. Bullshit. 

The Empty

What the fuck was the point of everything about this plot line if it would just be trashed half way through? Why did Cas make that deal with Ruby? Why did she beg to get out? Why did the Empty accuse Jack of making it loud? I really thought they were going somewhere with this one but they chickened out. There was so much potential for this; the angels and demons being awakened, balance being restored in heaven and hell, a big final show down between them and God. There were so many things just dropped when it came to this and that is why season 15 is absolutely frustrating because it feels like we just wasted our time with useless world building that didn’t amount to anything. 

Kevin

I truly did think they’d address this in some sort of way, but the last time we saw Kevin, he was cursed to wander the earth until he became insane because his soul couldn’t ascend to heaven. I was really excited about this because I thought it meant there was going to be some restructuring of the Supernatural universe. The plot would be how the universe Chuck created wasn’t perfect and it had flaws and it was up to Team Free Will to fix some of these gaping holes. They made a point of calling it unfair. It was a wrong that should have been righted in some sort of way in the final. 

Benny

This really isn’t just about Benny, it is about the concept of purgatory. A running theme in the show is that good people don’t deserve what happened to them. We see a lot of “good” monsters throughout the show. Characters who helped, sacrificed, and died for the brothers. At the end, they are sent to monster hell or purgatory. There was an episode this season where Sam and Dean killed a teenage boy who had been turned into a vampire. The teenage boy accepted his death because he knew it was for the best. He was afraid of hurting more people and he accepted that it was unfair. They made sure to emphasize how unjust the rules of this universe were and the emotional toll these universal rules took on the boys. Benny’s demise was spoken about briefly and we see Dean very hurt about his death. But the audience is left with the feeling that this is wrong. That the way the Supernatural universe is structured is wrong. Good people get turned into monsters, die, go to purgatory, and then die the ultimate death there. Is this what’s in store for all the “good monster” characters in the show? Garth? His family? They’re werewolves who fight their monster instincts, do they they still deserve purgatory? Did that teenage boy? A gaping hole that I thought the show was going to address in some way. Maybe offer redemption to those in purgatory or have Jack completely wipe away the concept of monsters in the universe. After all, it was just Chuck’s shitty writing, why couldn’t they wipe it clean and just leave people? “Cure” people of the monster and officially give the boys a way out of hunting? No monsters means no hunting. They’d be truly free. I thought this was direction they were going based off the certain episodes and characters discussed. But nope.

Jack

They reduced Jack’s character to plot food and that’s it. His ending was sloppy because it didn’t take into account any of the growth he’s had over the last three seasons. We predicted his ending from season 12 and that’s bad writing. Just. Awful writing. This character had dreams, motivations, relationships, but that all quite literally dissipated. He was used as a magic button that solved all their problems. 15x19 truly showed the lack of thought put into his character. He should not have been a main character if he didn’t have more influence on the plot than simply being a cop-out for having to write a well thought out solution. He was literally just there to snap his fingers and fix all their problems. 

Dean

Oh yeah, Dean’s ending was a big fuck you to any character growth this character has had over the last 15 seasons. There is a line in his final 15 minute goodbye monologue where he says they always knew it would end this way. Which, exactly. We always thought it would end this way because it’s so goddamn predictable. It’s shitty writing because it doesn’t try to subvert this. It quite literally says that any growth Dean has had meant nothing because it didn’t change his end. Dean Winchester was always meant to die a young, bloody death. Everything he’s done, everything he’s bled and sacrificed for meant nothing. His prediction came true. It makes the audience wonder why they stuck around for this long ass journey if they knew the ending all along. It isn’t about what this character deserves. We have always known that the hero deserves happiness, but the ending should say something about why the story matters. Why did we see Dean struggle all his life about accepting himself? Loving himself? Seeing himself as someone who deserves to live? It was yet another theme and plot point throughout season 15. It’s what Castiel proclaimed to him in his confession and it is what Dean finally acknowledged by telling Chuck that’s not who he was. Dean Winchester is not a cold blooded killer. Dean Winchester deserved to live. It was beautiful character growth. A wonderful end to him. But they said fuck that when his last words were that he always knew it would end this way. That he always knew he wasn’t meant to live a long life. The writers wanted tears and they got them. I was crying, not because it was a beautiful satisfying death or ending, but because they tore apart 15 years of development for my beloved character. Dean Winchester has shown consistently that he wanted more than hunting, he wanted more than the life he got stuck with. But they didn’t follow through. They just decided to make an emotional ending because that was the coolest broest bro masculine thing to do. 

Castiel

Literally everything. Literally fucking everything. Another character that was reduced to plot food. Castiel, the angel who rebelled against heaven and fell for the man he raised from perdition, was not deemed important enough to be in the final. This was the biggest fuck you of all. His story had become so complicated over the last few seasons and his purpose was kinda everywhere but they finally focused it when they had his happiness be Dean. When he said he found his faith when he found a family. When he became a father to someone who would one day save the universe. Castiel lived for the love he learned he was capable of. His ending just made no sense. I guess we’re supposed to assume Jack saved his from the empty but he wasn’t shown. He was not shown greeting Dean, the man he died for over and over again, his happiness. He was not shown being reunited with Jack, his faith. He was not shown enjoying the life he fell from grace for. He was a book with half its pages ripped out. Castiel didn’t get an ending. He got erased. 

Sam

That fucking wig. 

This is just some of my rambling thoughts I wanted to share will all of you. I have been a fan of this show for so many years. I invested so much time and love into something I’m going to look back on with bitter disappointment. Some of shittiest writing I have ever seen. Thanks for reading and add some more reasons. I know a missed a shit ton. 

[littlegnoblin]

Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them. 

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?” 

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.  

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair. 

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests. 

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically. 

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin. 

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply. 

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off. 

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.” 

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth. 

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse. 

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies. 

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.” 

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing. 

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though. 

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.” 

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line. 

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand. 

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains. 

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?” 

Shit, that should not be so hot. 

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.” 

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes. 

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air. 

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try. 

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains. 

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it. 

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

 After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city. 

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight.��

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.” 

They tip their bottles together. 

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer. 

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’. 

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.” 

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch. 

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.” 

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face. 

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them. 

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers. 

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently. 

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls. 

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday.