#sam OK ENOUGH winchester the destiel whisperer

[kaleirots]

the funniest thing about destiel fic is how sam is the agony aunt/counsellor/problem solver/wingman/emotional support moose in every universe

like sure sam winchester has anger issues and trauma galore but more importantly, he's an 🏳️‍🌈 ALLY 🏳️‍🌈

[babyvillkas]

The Snake and the Wolf

Summary: Prompt: Character B buying Character A their first stuffed animal

Pairing: Destiel

Warnings: angst, impure regression

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Dean didn’t ask for a lot things, which made it very hard to buy for him. Sam concluded that he was just selfless like that, to a fault even. Zephyr had remarked that he did not let himself want, for fear of losing it and it seemed like Cas was the first thing he let himself have. Bobby had confirmed as much.

Unfortunately, none of this gave Cas a clue on what to buy Dean, so he bided his time in pool game hustles until he felt he had enough to spoil him silly. Then he announced to Dean that they were going shopping and dragged him to the Continental Mark V that he always teased him about.

When they got to the store, Cas told him that this trip was all about him, and could have anything he wanted. Dean’s mouth dropped open a little, as he stared at Cas with wide green eyes. He stayed like that until Cas grabbed his hand and dragged him down one of the aisles. The first thing that Dean chose was a comforter that has green plaid on one side and blue on the other. Cas simply smiled at him reassuringly when he looked at him while he slowly put it in the cart like expected him to refuse. (He’d never.) Dean seemed to relax a bit after that, and it made him wonder if John Winchester never took Dean shopping. The thought made him want to resurrect John so he could smite him.

After that, Dean chose a few more practical things, then picked a few more indulgent things, like soft clothes because while his skin is tougher, it it’s still sensitive at times. A humidifier, that’ll keep his skin and scales from drying out. And a small cat tree that he said nothing about, so Cas didn’t ask. Honestly, he’s enjoying this shopping trip. Spoiling Dean made him incredibly happy, and despite Dean’s overall quietness, he could tell that he was having a good time too. It’s nice, not having to worry about anything other than making his boyfriend happy, even if it's just for a few moments. Of course, the peaceful moment was stolen away when Dean saw it. And at first, Cas had no idea what he’s looking at until he followed his line of sight to a large stuffed wolf. It’s black, with blue plastic eyes, and roughly half the size of Dean. Unlike with everything else he picked out, he just stared at it, immobile. So Cas grabbed it for him, and put it in the cart.

There’s a choked sound, and he found Dean staring at him with wide, teary eyes and a clenched jaw. Anguish was etched into the way his body tensed, and Cas? Cas nearly fell apart because for his boyfriend to have this sort of reaction means something- something bad happened and his poor heart breaks.

“Can’t- can’t have t-that,” Dean’s voice was rough and small, and it scraped at Cas’s ribcage viscerally.

“Why not?” He whispered, because speaking is too loud for this moment that feels like walking on hot coals and glass.

“I’m n-not allowed,”

“Says who?” But he knows. He knows who it is because who else could it be? He has to ask; as much as it pains them he knows that Dean would never otherwise and he has to tell him that he’ll be ok no matter what he wants.

“D-John.”

“He’s not here is he? It’s just me and you hon and I’m telling you if you want it, you can have it,”

“But s’weak…. I’m weak..”

Dean was trembling, like he might fall out of his skin and Cas grabbed his hands as he stared him dead in the eyes. “Dean Winchester, you are the strongest man I know. Nothing, and I mean nothing will change that. I love you with all of my being and that won’t change either no matter what,”

“I-I-“

Cas let go of one of his hands to grab the wolf and gently handed it him. Dean gave him a searching glance before looking at the stuffed animal. His empty hand clenched open and closed for a few seconds before he took it, hugging it tightly to his body with both of his arms.

“I’m so proud of you Dean,”

The shopping trip is pretty much over after that, so Cas took them over to a cashier with no line and paid for everything. Anyone who so much as looked at Dean was met with an angel powered glare, which worked out in their favor as they’re able to get out pretty quickly. Dean didn’t speak a single word after that, he just clutched onto the wolf like a lifeline. Cas let him have his silence for moment, since he needed to focus on getting them back to their hotel room. It’s no sooner than Castiel is setting the stuff down on his bed that he he turned around to find Dean quietly sobbing into the wolf.

“Oh Dean baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, pulling him into a much deserved hug. A few tears of his own leaked out at seeing his boyfriend in such a state.

“M’sad, m’happy, m’scared Cas. Head feels all fuzzy and small and I dunno w’ats happening’! M’sorry!” Dean wailed.

This was the first time he’s ever seen him openly cry and he can’t help but be terrified. He’s afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, but right now he doesn’t have the time to agonize. Right Now Dean needs him.

“We can figure this out together. I’m not mad at you, and I think it’s very good that you’re telling me how you feel so I can help you,”

“S’good?” Dean’s cries tapered off, waiting for Cas’s reply.

“So good baby, I’m so proud of you,”

“Cas’s p’oud of De?”

“Of course,” And it’s true. Dean doesn’t open up very often, and every time it happens he’s so proud of him. He wished it didn’t come to tears this time, but he’s glad that Dean trusts him enough to be vulnerable.

“E’en tho’ De’s head’s all fuzzy and small?”

“We’ll figure it out together,” As long as Dean’s happy, it doesn’t matter why he’s acting like a child, but he’ll help him figure what exactly this is.

“M’kay,” Dean rubbed his eye with a fist, looking around the room as he took in a shuddery breath in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth. “Wanna cuddle with Cas. And take a nap.”

“Ok, we can do that,” Cas walked over to the bed, and Dean followed. He watched Cas get comfortable first, then crawled into the bed with him, gripping his wolf tightly. “Is this good?”

Dean nodded, closing his eyes. He felt Cas shift a little underneath him as he grabbed something. Then there was a soft tapping noise, which made his eyes open as he squirmed.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Nap with De,”

And how could Cas say no to that? Tossing his phone aside, he hugged Dean close as he closed his eyes.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

The Ever Handsome and Always Charming Dean Winchester

Title: The Ever Handsome and Always Charming Dean Winchester

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel 

Rating: Everyone :)

Tags: fluff

Summary: Just a cute little something I wrote for a friend :) @thebridgekid <3 A perfectly simple Dean and Cas wedding!

AO3

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

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     Cas looked around the church they were standing in while they waited for the man they were there to meet, one of the Fathers of the church. It had been a while since he had been in one, since he had been in a house built for his father, at least not since he had decided to take off and leave his creation to fend for themselves. Being back inside one was… odd, to say the least. He was still angry with his father for leaving, for abandoning them when they needed him the most, and all those years before he had taken off while the planet almost died several times over. 

     “Agents,” the Father they were waiting for walked up to them, “how can I help you this fine day?”

     “We were wondering if you could give us some information on a member of your church,” Dean spoke, easily slipping into his agent persona, “Mark Marsden. He went missing a few days ago and was last seen here. Just wondering if we can ask you a few questions.”

     “Of course, Agents, if you'll follow me to my office we can speak there.”

     The Father led them through the church and through another set of large double doors, the room on the other side packed full and decorated to the nines.

     “I'll ask you to be quiet as we pass through,” the Father whispered to them, “one of our young couples is getting married. We’ll keep to the side and sneak into the back.”

     They both nodded, following the Father back to his office, but as they did Cas kept his eyes on the scene at the front of the church. He watched as they passed as everyone in their seats had their eyes glued to the couple at the front, many of them dabbing tears from their eyes as the Pastor spoke of their joining in the eyes of God. As they reached the front of the room where the Fathers office was hidden at the back, Cas remained outside the door while Dean went inside to ask the questions he needed to ask, and watched the remainder of the ceremony. He stood silently at the side and listened as the young man and woman recited their vows to one another, the longing he could see in their eyes as they did reminded him of green eyes staring back at him. 

     Dean finished up with the Father and left his office just in time to catch the end of the wedding, and just in time to see how intensely Cas was watching it all. The couple at the altar exchanged rings, and it didn't miss Dean's eyes when Cas clasped his hands together, very clearly rubbing his left ring finger as he did. And as the wedding came to a close, Dean's eyes were on Cas as the couple kissed to seal the deal. Cas had yet to take his eyes off of them, and the way Cas was staring at them when they kissed, there was something in his eyes that Dean had never seen before, a look that had him wondering if maybe…

     The couple pulled back from each other and the church erupted in cheers and whistles as they walked hand in hand down the aisle and outside, their guests following them out. It was enough to pull Dean out of his mind, so he pushed off his spot on the wall and walked over to nudge Cas with his elbow. 

     “Ready to go, man? We gotta go tell Sam what we found out.”

     Cas just nodded and followed Dean out of the church and back into the impala.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They found themselves back in the church not too long after. They had gotten another small lead on their suspect from before, but they needed the Fathers help again, so here they were. Though this time the church was empty. The wedding party had long since filed out, surely to head to their reception, but Cas found himself being drawn to the altar at the front, standing at the bottom of the stairs just below it. He was only a few steps away from where the young couple had been standing not too long ago, professing their love for one another in the eyes of his father. 

     “Well, the good Father’s not here, no one is actually. We must have just missed everyone…” He stopped, finding Cas standing there, staring up at the flowery archway with that same strange look in his eyes from before, “Cas…?”

     “The idea of being joined with another being,” he began, eyes not moving from the archway in front of him, his voice almost a whisper, “to prove the strength of your bond, in front of the eyes of my Father... It's one that I never thought would matter to me but, after watching the wedding today I find myself feeling that perhaps it does matter to me.”

     “Cas,” Dean smiled to himself as he moved closer to Cas, standing beside him now, “are you, in your own weird way, asking me to marry you?”

     Cas still didn't turn to look at Dean, but let go a small smile himself, “I know my Father is not truly here, but wherever he is, he is always watching, listening. And our bond, Dean, is stronger than any bond ever formed or created in this universe. If any bond should be recognized by the eyes of God, it should be ours.”

     “So you are asking me to marry you,” Dean reached out and took Cas’s chin between his fingers, turning him to face him finally, “so why don't we do it right now then?”

     “Right now?” Cas quirked a brow at him.

     Dean shrugged, “You want to prove our bond in the eyes of God right? And like you said, he's always watching. So whether we do it here and now, or somewhere else, who cares?”

     “But there is no minister to officiate the joining.”

     “Do we really need one?” He asked, and Cas tilted his head in this typical Cas fashion that Dean loved so much. “The whole point of having a minister is because they are connected to God, right, but you're an Angel, one of God's children. I don't think it gets any closer to God then that.”

     “So right here, right now, just the two of us, you wanna get married?”

     “If you want to, Cas, then yes,” he nodded, his smile growing brighter and wider with every second, “we don't need anything big or fancy with hundreds of people we barely know. Just us, that's all we've ever needed.”

     Dean took another step closer to Cas, laying his head gently on his as he asked, “So, do you want to marry me, Cas?”

     Cas’s smile grew so impossibly wide he thought he might explode. Never had he ever thought he would be here, about to marry the love of his life. “Yes,” he breathed against Dean's lips, “I do want to marry you, Dean.”

     “Okay then, let's do this.” 

     He turned and held out his arm to Cas who took it instantly, and then he walked them up the few steps to stand at the top under the archway. Once they were there, he turned and took both of Cas's hands in his own and readied to make this Angel his in their own private little ceremony, just the two of them. Little did they both know, it wasn't as private as they had originally thought it was.

     Sam had entered the church not too long after Dean and Cas had. He saw the impala out front and knew they were both still there, and had walked in just in time to see the two of them walk up the steps together, and come to stand face to face under the archway. He had come to tell them that he had found a major break in the case and that they no longer needed the Fathers help. But when he found them up there together like that, holding hands and very obviously doing what he thought they were doing, he didn't have the heart to interrupt what he thought was a very long time coming. So he opted to stay quietly at the back of the room, and leaned against the wall to watch unnoticed by them.

     “So,” Cas spoke after a few moments of just staring at each other, “where do we start?”

     “Let's skip the, ‘we are gathered here today’, and jump straight to the vows.”

     Cas nodded eagerly, “I would like to go first, Dean.”

     Dean smiled at his eagerness and nodded in return, “Sure thing, Cas.”

     Cas squared himself and took a deep breath, holding Dean's hands a little tighter in his as he began, “Dean, I knew from the moment I laid a hand on your soul in hell that I was lost. I have been alive for millenia, and yet in all my many years, nothing has ever changed me the way you have in such a short time. The brightness of your soul, and the strength of our bond have made me into a better Angel then I ever thought I could be. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me finally feel loved and whole. I wouldn't be who I am right now without you, Dean. I love you.”

     Dean wasn’t one to cry at these kinds of things, not usually, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little choked up at Cas’s words. He knew that the Angel over the years had caused a monumental change in himself, but he never realized how much he had done the same for Cas.

     “Ok, my turn,” he cleared his throat before he spoke, holding tighter to Cas’s hands and feeling the tears welling in his eyes, but he didn't care, “in my life I have thought, many times, that I knew what true love felt like, but as soon as I saw you walking through those barn doors for the first time, I knew that all those other times I was so very wrong. The profound bond we share is something I have never felt, ever, in my entire life. And I don't think anyone, past, present, or future, will ever be lucky enough to feel the way we do, how strongly we do, through that bond. And I know it took me a long time to admit it, because we both know I'm a stubborn ass, but I have always known that I never want to be without you, Cas. I'm not the same when you're not around, I feel empty when you're gone, even if it's just for a few hours, I never want to be without you. And with you in my arms forever, I know I will be the happiest man on Earth. I love you, Cas.”

     Neither of them could resist any longer as the tears forced their way past their last defenses, streaming down their cheeks. “And now?” Cas forced past the lump in his throat.

     “And now,” Dean let go of Cas's hands for a second to wipe at his eyes, then to reach down into his pants pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. Cas’s eyes went wide as Dean opened it to reveal a beautiful silver ring, with a feathered line of black running through the center. “I've been carrying this around for a while now. I made it myself, but I wasn't sure if weddings or marriage was something that was for us, so I haven't said anything yet, but I was going to give this to you regardless of what we decided, at some point when I got the nerve up to give it to you,” he shook his head with a light chuckle and pulled himself out of his rambling, then held out his hand, “anyways, give me your left hand, Cas.”

     Dean’s shaking hands reached out to take Cas’s and clumsily slipped the ring on his finger. He admired it on Cas’s hand for a moment, before bringing his hand up to his mouth and pressing a light kiss to the ring. Cas smiled at the action, bringing his hand up to his face to admire the ring himself before something dawned on him that kind of upset him, “Dean, I do not have a ring for you.”

     “It's alright, Cas,” he shook his head, still smiling at his Angel, “I don't need one.”

     “But,” he frowned looking down at the ring on his finger, “this ring symbolizes that I am the other half of your bond, you have nothing to symbolize that you are the other half of mine.”

     “Okay, how ‘bout this then,” he took the ring off his right hand that he always wore, and gave it to Cas, “we’ll use this one as a placeholder for now, and then when we get back to the bunker you can make one like I did.”

     Cas smiled and accepted the ring, slipping it onto Dean’s left hand, copying Dean's action and placing a sweet kiss on it. “There, now everyone will know that you and I belong to each other.”

     “And now we have one more thing to do,” he took both of Cas's hands in his again and pulled him a little closer as he asked, “Castiel, do you take the ever handsome and always charming Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

     “I do take you, Dean,” Cas took another step closer, now chest to chest with Dean, “and do you, Dean, take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

     “I definitely do, Cas. And now I pronounce us-”

     “Wait!”

     “What?” A small surge of panic shot through Dean.

     “Last names,” Cas stated so simply, and Dean let out a breath of relief and a slight chuckle, “I don't have one, what do we do?”

     “What do you want to do? It's your call.”

     Without any hesitation, Cas blurted out, “I want to take yours.”

     “I was hoping you would say that,” Dean whispered and leaned in to press their foreheads together, “in that case, I now pronounce us husbands, Mr Dean and Castiel Winchester,” Cas smiled at the use of his new full name, “and now I’m gunna kiss my very handsome groom.”

     “Please do.”

     Dean took no time in closing the small gap between them and pressing his lips firmly against Cas's, his husband. And as his lips moved in perfect sync against Cas’s he couldn’t think of anything else except finally, finally Cas was his husband, finally they were married, and finally he was Castiel Winchester. Forever his Angel.

     Sam had managed to remain quiet and unseen for the entire little ceremony. It was perfectly Dean and Cas, a secret wedding, just the two of them. And even though Sam wasn't supposed to be there, he was honoured that he was able to bear witness to the most perfect wedding he had ever seen. 

     He stood there long enough to watch them seal their joining with a kiss, and when it was obvious that they weren't going to be separating anytime soon, he decided to slowly back out of the room and let them have their time together. Besides, while they were distracted with each other, he had some work to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They stayed in the church for a while, standing under the archway, kissing, holding each other, calling each other husband. Dean wasn't sure how long they had been standing there when things started to get a little intense. Their kisses turned heated and hands were starting to wander, so Dean pulled back from Cas who chased him with his lips, and was disappointed when Dean pulled back even further. “Cas, wait a second,” Dean laughed at the whine he let out while still trying desperately to get to his lips, “Cas, let's go back to the motel, we can lock Sam out and have a mini honeymoon.”

     Cas stopped trying to chase after Dean and pulled back to look at him. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at him and all he could do was nod enthusiastically while practically dragging Dean towards the front doors of the church. “Yeah, let's do that!”

     “We should let Sam know that we are married now,” Cas added as they exited the church and made way for the car, “but after our mini honeymoon.”

     Dean stopped dead in the middle of the parking lot, causing Cas to jerk to a stop beside him and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Something tells me he already knows,” he groaned and ran a hand down his face.

     Cas turned away from Dean and looked over at the car, and yeah, Sam definitely knew. The impala was completely decked out from hood to trunk. There were white streamers and paper doves all over the hood and roof, the entire ground surrounding the car was littered with confetti, empty beer cans from the trunk had been strung to the bumper, and the back window was painted with the words ‘FINALLY hitched!”

     They slowly walked up to the car, not exactly sure what to do about it, or how to even get in. Dean eyed a piece of paper stuck under the windshield wipers, and just as he grabbed it the devil himself drove by in his own car. He honked wildly at them as he passed, waving his hand out the window, then sped off down the road and out of sight. 

     Dean just shook his head and groaned, “Oh god,” as he opened the note and read it out loud, “Honestly, it's about time guys! Seriously! I'm really happy you both finally did this. I stopped by the church to tell you guys that I had a new lead on the case but I ended up being just in time to see your private wedding, and now you have an official witness. Also, don't worry about the case, I got this one. I made you two a reservation at an actual hotel in town, the Royal Stay Hotel, in the honeymoon suite, you can check in any time. The reservation ends Monday afternoon, so enjoy your four days off! Have fun newlyweds! Love, sam."

     “That was very nice of him,” Cas looked up at Dean, trying to gauge his reaction and smiled when Dean did too.

     “Yeah, it was. We’ll call and thank him later, but right now I just want to get you to that hotel room and get this honeymoon started!”

     “Should we get going then?” Cas smirked at him, giving him the same wiggle of his eyebrows that Dean had given him before. Dean just laughed and opened the door for Cas to get in, then ran to the other side to hop in. 

     He put the car in reverse and turned to pull out of the lot, and got a look at the back seat, “Oh my god,” he sighed, but couldn't even help the laugh that escaped him, encompassing his whole body as Cas looked back too.

     Sam had not only taken the time to decorate the outside of the car, but also the inside. There was more confetti and streamers in the back seat, along with bottles of champagne, several cases of beer, and a very unnecessary amount of condoms scattered all over the back of the car. 

     It took them awhile to stop laughing at the state of the back seat, both had tears streaming down their faces before they were able to catch their breaths again. And after their fit of laughter, Dean leaned over the seat to put his hand around the back of Cas's neck and pulled him in close. “You know, he is right about one thing.

     “What's that?”

     Dean smiled, leaning in to rub his nose against his husband’s, “Finally.”

     “Finally,” Cas agreed, and moved in to kiss Dean soundly once more, before taking his hand while Dean drove out of the parking lot.

End

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A/N: Hope y’all enjoyed it, always more to come <3 And if you wanna be tagged for furture Destiel posts just let me know <3

[violenceenthusiast]

Dean Winchester made me gay (but not like that)

Not to be sincere on main but with the Supernatural finale fast approaching I’m thinking about what this stupid, wonderful show has meant to me over the years, particularly as a queer kid.

I started watching Supernatural while season 5 was airing, at age 12. And the really wild thing is that I started watching before I was even on tumblr SO unlike most shows, I didn’t start watching based on whispers about queer representation– I just,, thought it looked like a cool show I might like.

So here I am, a middle schooler with no clue why the worst part of every day was getting dressed, why I felt funny? confused? nervous? when girls gave me hugs, why I didn’t quite fit in with the boys but didn’t quite fit in with the girls either, and so much more (aka standard Queer Kid Confusion lmao). 

Now here I have to talk about the netflix documentary Disclosure for a second (which, if you haven’t seen is one of those things everyone should watch). The doc is largely a timeline and analysis of trans representation in tv and film as narrated by people in the industry who are trans themselves (tight as hell). But there’s this one part where this guy is illustrating why queer representation in media is so important, and he tells us that “80% of people don’t know a trans person in real life” (paraphrasing from memory) so for many people, tv and film are their only point of contact and point of reference for what it is to be trans and/or queer. and then he delivers the real kicker– “the same is true for queer people”. When I tell you that rocked my world to hear him say that... because he’s right!! 

I was lucky enough to grow up in a pretty lefty, Jewish community but even then my information about queerness was limited to a) gay exists and b) gay is ok (in the abstract) but c) gay is the thing boys call each other when they step out of line. After all, it was still the 2000′s. I didn’t know anyone gay in real life, perhaps my only exposure to queerness was captain Jack Harkness when he kisses the doctor in s1?? but most importantly I didn’t know anything of the subjective experience of queerness.

And so I start watching this show. And there’s Dean. He loves powerfully and protects those he loves. He is strong and smart and clever and funny and accomplished but despite that is so so tied down by, and beholden to, what others (john, sam, society) expect of him and the roles he needs to play as a result (father, mother, brother, savior, protector, man’s man). He is proud of yet embarrassed by his interests that fall outside of these expectations– Sam, as the bookish one who ~went to college~ gets the reputation of the nerd but we all know the real nerd is Dean, with his cowboys, sci-fi, and chick flicks, his books and his movies and his music. AND on top of all that, he has nowhere and no one that’s just his, save perhaps for the impala but even that is not really his (yet). And for me, as a queer, Jewish, nerdy kid who didn’t know they were queer or why they didn’t feel they fit anywhere... Dean Winchester was everything. 

Enter Castiel. 

And my world expanded. I watched as Dean, a fellow aquarius (lol), found safety and home in Cas. I watched their uneasy alliance, backed by an unshakeable bond, turn to trust then to friendship and rapidly into something more, something ephemeral, something,, profound. Love fundamentally changed them both. Their love for one another specifically changed them both. I watched as they moved heaven and earth (and hell) for each other, literally. But most importantly I got to see it all through Dean’s eyes. Of course we see much of Cas’s experience of events but for much of the early seasons of Cas’s run on the show he (and his interiority) is kept from the boys, and from us, at a bit of an arm’s length. Dean is the main conduit for us as the audience, and he certainly was for teenage me. 

I watched as this scared man who had to grow up too fast found solace in another man, in a way that was (in many ways literally) alien to him. I saw his panicked moments and second-guessing and fidgeting and furtive looks and wayward glances. All the things that us destiel truthers (🤡) pointed to at the time were, for me, not simply about shipping but about seeing myself in Dean. Seeing my own reluctance to be near women, my own hyper-awareness about how close we were standing and where I was looking and how long I was looking for. My own discomfort in and eventual shedding of the prescriptive gendered roles and behavior I had been handed. Dean falling for Cas and the beauty of it, how naturally and how easily they fit together against all that was working against them.. it allowed me to see something in myself and for myself that I could never have imagined alone.

So for all the (rightful) criticism of Supernatural and destiel as awful queer-baiting, for me, a kid beginning to see themself for the first time through this story and these characters... it never hit that way for me. Literally what was I supposed to do but go stupid go crazy and think about nothing but Dean and Cas and Supernatural for the rest of forever?? I never in a million years would have expected or could have hoped for the 15x18 confession and I’m scared and excited for what will happen in the finale but no matter what happens... I’ll forever be grateful to this show for giving me the imagination to see myself as I am.

[boringlibrarianthoughts]

Supernatural 13x04 and How it Confirmed Destiel to Me

(Disclaimer: I was not a Destiel shipper for a while. Whenever a character would say “oh, Castiel is in love with Dean” I would brush it off as a joke. “Haha, yeah, whatever,” I would say. “No way they’ll ever actually go there,” I’d say. And then seasons 12 and 13 happened and I was like... “Ok, y’all need to stop playing games with us bc this is clearly a romantic relationship at this point”...)

I had noticed some changes in Castiel’s representation since about season 13. Yes, the show had always joked about Cas being in love with the elder Winchester brother, but I had brushed that off as the show teasing its fanbase. And at first, I think it was doing just that for years. However, knowing what we do now, I believe there was some kind of backstage understanding that “Destiel” would be the endgame and, in order to make it reasonable and not jarringly pulled out of nowhere, there needed to be enough hinting along the way. I remember my first viewing of the episode “The Big Empty” (13x04) kind of left me feeling suspicious of the showrunner’s intentions. Remember, when Castiel awakens in The Empty, the Shadow is pissed and wants Cas to go back to sleep so that it, too, can return to its slumber (and who can blame it, honestly lol). He insists he wants to return to earth for the sake of his friends, but the Shadow tells him mockingly:

“I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings - yes. I know what you hate –“

And then, whispers expressively – “I know who you love.”

Then, the Shadow continues to say it also knows “what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.”

And when I first saw this episode, my mouth gaped a little in fan-girling fashion because… did they just get a little bit… Destiel-ish?

This is a list of three things in Castiel’s mind: what he hates, what he loves, and what he fears. Note the symmetry and regularity of my list. That is a common way of phrasing a list – each item is mentioned in the same fashion.

What he hates.

What he loves.

What he fears.

Except… item #2 is said differently. It’s not “what you love” it’s “who you love.” Why the difference? There is no reason for it to not be “what you love.” If the Shadow had said this to Cas, I would have assumed: What does Castiel love? Well, his family, of course. He wants to return to Sam, Dean, and their “son” Jack. Fine with me.

But the Shadow doesn’t say that.

At the time, I just told myself not to overreact and it was just a weird way to phrase things. But looking back… I don’t think it was. I believe this was a purposeful choice by the writers (remember, given what Cas says in “Despair” there needed to be enough of a lead-up to that moment that it felt reasonable and not pulled out of someone’s ass).

The Shadow had access to Castiel’s mind: all his thoughts and feelings and memories. So sure, it knows what Castiel hates and what he fears.

But it also knows Castiel loves Dean. It is Dean specifically being singled out as the “who” Castiel is in love with. The “family” group is not what is being valued here; it is simply this angel’s feelings for a human.

This is what the Shadow is teasing Dean with regarding “what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” Give up, make my life easy, and let me go back to sleep.

As the Shadow would know who Castiel is in love with, it would also know Castiel’s fear of Dean not returning that feeling. Of Dean dying (remember, Cas is not human and will one day have to watch Dean die). Of perhaps admitting how he feels to Dean only for it to negatively affect their friendship.

The Shadow is being a dick, but it opened the door for some major “Destiel” (omg, I feel so weird typing “Destiel” in 2021) themes.

[icecream-and-gadreel]

Chapter 1: Family ties

Series Summary: Jack goes missing days after his father betrays their family by joining another syndicate. Everyone suspects Lucifer but instead of sitting around wondering, Castiel goes to the best detective he knows: Dean Winchester. The cynical detective has lost his lust for life and doesn't want to make his miserable days anymore miserable by being caught between the two biggest crime families in the country. Ever persuasive, Castiel is able to recruit him and start a relationship that neither of them expected.

Summary: Castiel can't bite his tongue around his family anymore. Meanwhile, Dean thinks about retirement up until he finds that his agency has been broken in to.

Pairing: Destiel

Other characters: Samandriel, Sam, Gabriel, Jack(Mentioned), Lucifer(Mentioned) Max, Cassie(Mentioned) Charlie (Mentioned)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, guns, smoking, death mention, threats

Word count: 2800+

A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @cajunquandry, I appreciate you making this fic sparkle! Anyways I am obsessed with Noir films and bamf!Castiel, so why not feed into both? Enjoy!

Masterlist

Three days missing

Castiel

Cigarette smoke fogs the room, the sound of jazz music combatting the chattering crowd. Sitting in the corner of the bar is Castiel, swirling his beer mindlessly.

It's driving him insane.

His family, all crowded around him, celebrates some meaningless victory and pretend like nothing is wrong. The absolute disregard for Jack's disappearance is enough to make him want to snap. But he doesn't. Instead, he swirls his beer and avoids the looks from his brothers. Samandriel stares at him from across the bar, babysitting a glass of water. He seems to be the only other person that gives a damn. Castiel begins raising to his feet, halting when Sam sits next to him. Sighing, Castiel sinks back into his seat.

“Hey,” Sam says, rolling his sleeves up. Castiel grunts in response, setting his beer down and leaning back in his seat.

“You came.”

“Yeah, uh Gabriel wouldn't stop calling the office so...” Sam shrugs, gesturing for the bartender. He orders a shot of vodka, clearing his throat. “You ok?” he asks, patting Castiel's back.

“Far from it,” he retorts, flicking his eyes to the other man. “He's gone. No trace, no signs, just vanished. I'd feel better if there was a body.”

Sam nods, downing his shot with a huff. “I get it –”

“Do you?,” he snaps, glancing over his shoulder before continuing. “All they talk about is 'loyalty' and 'putting the family first', but the moment it really counts they're nowhere to be seen,” he growls.

Sam nods. “No, I get it, I do,” he says, nodding once more. Before Castiel can respond, Gabriel is throwing his arms around them.

“Stop being a fucking buzz kill!” Gabriel whines, tssking his younger brother. Castiel shakes out of his grasp, whirling around toward the crowd. Gabriel offers him a bottle of whiskey, wiggling his eyebrows. “Live a little, baby bro.”

Snatching the bottle away, Castiel stands from his seat, gaining whoops and hollers from his family.

“Castiel –”

“My nephew,” he begins, cutting Sam off. The crowd goes quiet. “Our nephew has disappeared from the face of the earth.” Castiel swigs from the bottle, a river of liquor running down his neck. “Could be dead or worse.” He smashes the bottle against the ground and Sam flinches back, a look of concern crossing his face. “Excuse me if I'm not 'chipper',” he adds, a faux-smile on his face. The room is silent, even the music has stopped. Castiel stares around at the sea of shocked faces, his chest heaving as the anger bubbles inside of him. “You're all full of shit. Being with family only matters to you when it's fun!”

Sam stands from his seat, patting Castiel's back. “I think we should go,” he whispers, flinching when Gabriel clears his throat.

“Look, we all know Lucifer has him, can't take him from his dad now can we?” Gabriel asks.

They could. All they'd have to do is find the bastard, tell him to give Jack up, and take him home. Castiel considers telling Gabriel this, but heads for the door instead. He ignores the protests from his family, tucking his hands into his pockets and making his way down the road. He pulls a lighter from his pocket with a huff. He looks over his shoulder at the sounds of a car approaching, rolling his eyes. 

“Need a ride?” Sam asks, easing the car to a stop. Silently, Castiel leans against the hood of the car, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Come on, get in.”

“No, get out.” Sighing, Sam pulls his keys out of the ignition, sulking over to him with a cocked smile. “The detective,” he says, flicking his eyes up to Sam.

“My...brother?” Sam asks, shaking his head when Castiel nods. “It's not gonna happen.”

“He was able to get to Michael. I still don't know how he got close enough,” he says, resting a hand on Sam's arm. “What I do know is if anyone could find Jack, it's him.”

“It's not gonna happen,” he repeats, stiffening as Castiel squeezes his shoulder. “Dean doesn't deal with the mafia,” he adds.

“Please. It's like I'm the only one who gives a damn,” he says, gently rubbing Sam's arm. “I can't do this alone,” he adds. Sam melts under the touch, as he always does, and darts his eyes away.

“It's not that easy,” he mumbles. Castiel flicks his cigarette away before bracing Sam's other arm, a stone look on his face.

“An address. That's all I need. If he says no, then I'll leave,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes and gently urges Castiel's hands away.

“Only if you go back to the bar with me.” Sam points behind himself. “You owe me a shot.” Castiel hums, shrugging.

“Fine.”

–

Four days missing

Castiel stares down at the sloppily written address, squinting his eyes. The ink is smudged thanks to Gabriel spilling a drink all over the napkin, but he thinks he has the right place. He rubs a hand over his eye, trying to shake away his hangover. Never again will he challenge his overgrown lawyer to a drinking contest. He stares down at the address once more, glancing up when he hears humming. A man with caramel skin makes his way to the building, pulling out a set of keys. After opening the door, he disappears into the building. 

Glancing around, Castiel draws his gun, jogging across the street and ducking into a nearby crevice. Minutes later the delivery man is reemerging. He sets down his sack of packages and sorts through the keys once more. Castiel creeps up behind him, pressing his gun into the other man's back.

“Don't scream,” he says, voice calm. The man obliges, slowly raising his hands up. “What's your name?”

“Max,” he grunts, looking over his shoulder with a sigh. “I don't carry my wallet, but I think someone ordered a blender,” he says dryly, nodding to the bag.

“I need to get into this building,” he says in a near whisper.

“You couldn't just ask?”

“Would you have let me in?” he retorts. Max shakes his head, sorting through the keys once more and opening the door. He leads Castiel inside, hands still in the air. “Come with me.”

“Why?” Max grows, shooting him a glare. Castiel opens the door to the detective's office, pushing Max in first. The room feels claustrophobic; the mess on the floor and desk isn't helping. It smells faintly of cigarettes and warm cologne. Castiel looks at each corner, noting that there aren't any cameras. He sinks down into the spinning chair behind the desk, gesturing at Max with his gun.

“I'm a very good shot,” he begins, opening a drawer and digging around. “But if I happen to miss, I will find you, and if I find you, things will be much less pleasant than they are now.”

“Wow, you're a blast to deal with,” Max says, leaning against the wall.

Castiel grabs a picture of a stoic man and a curly haired woman from the desk, his gun still aimed at Max. “I've been told recently that I'm not,” he says, furrowing his brow. They both share a solemn look. Dean, he assumes, looks far more intense than Sam described him. He flips the photo over, chuckling under his breath. 'The wife and I try to be serious for once. Didn't work. September '48'. he turns the picture once more, observing Dean before getting back to his main mission. Cameras. Bugs. Recorders. Anything a cop could use to get him caught up. He squats down, running his hand underneath the desk.

“...flies in.”

Castiel frowns, looking up at the source of the voice. His throat runs dry as he trails his eyes over the man before him. Black pants that cling to his bow-legs. A button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing freckle kissed skin. His face falls into a frown, his cherry red lips parted. Castiel forces himself to look away, glancing down at the picture.

Dean.

Dean

Dean tosses a burger on Sam's desk, a toothy grin on his face.

“Mornin' sunshine,” he cooes, gaining a groan from Sam. “Come on, grease is the hangover miracle cure.”

“I just need sleep and...copious amounts of coffee,” the younger Winchester groans, slowly rising from his desk. “...And to never drink again,” he adds, eyeing the burger.

“Yeah, leave it to the professionals buddy,” Dean says, shooting him a wink. Sam furrows his brow and unwraps his burger as he leaves his office.

“Any new cases?”

Dean hums, following Sam out and staring at the sky. The last case had ended with him locking one of the Novak brothers up, and sending another one running for the hills. The months to follow have been almost stagnant. “I think it's time,” he says. Sam bites into his burger, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You know, retirement. No more catching politicians in motels, just me and Baby.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, ok.”

“What? I'm serious!” Dean says, gesturing to the air. “Look at this, Sammy,” he says. The sky is blue with few clouds painting the sky. Cars are racing down the street, along with many people hustling on the sidewalks. “I don't get to enjoy this beautiful city anymore.”

Sam chuckles, glancing around. “Someone peed on this 'beautiful' sidewalk,” he says, pointing to a spot on the ground. Dean hops over it, staring at the stain as he passes. “But yeah, you're missing out,” Sam chuckles.

“Ha. I think it'll be good for me, though,” Dean says, stroking a finger along his jaw. “Solving crimes, angry convicts just waiting to catch me in a dark alley. I don't like it anymore.” Sam frowns, tossing the last bite of his burger into his mouth.

“All you've ever talked about is helping people.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean pauses, darting his tongue over his lip. “Just doesn't get me out of bed like it used to,” he says, glancing at his brother. The younger Winchester gives him his trademark puppy dog eyes, making him huff. “What?”

“Being cooped up in the house all day thinking of Cassie isn't healthy, Dean.” He speaks slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. “Neither is drinking yourself to sleep and waking up next to random strippers. The agency is the only thing that kept you sane,” he adds. Dean chuckles, his chest tightening at the mention of her. At the office. Sitting at home. It doesn't matter, the only person on his mind will always be her. He twists the wedding ring around on his finger, forcing out a laugh.

“You'd make a better shrink than a lawyer.”

“Fine, let's say you quit, what about Charlie? She needs the job and you know it,” Sam says. Dean purses his lips with a shrug. As he approaches his agency, his face sinks. The door is wide open, and on the side of the door sits Max's parcel bag.

“Wait here,” Dean grunts, gaining a perplexed look in return. Slowly, he pokes his head into the door, scanning his eyes over the room. Nothing seems disturbed, save for his door being left open. He scratches his scruff, eyeing the door to his office. Cracked open. “Max, you left the door open,” he yells, making his way toward his office. “Gonna let flies in...” his voice trails away at the scene before him. Max, standing in the corner with his hands up. A vaguely familiar man digging in his desk with a gun aimed at the delivery man. The man stares at Dean silently, blue eyes dancing.

“Go,” the man says, waving his gun at Max. He reluctantly walks out of the room, hands still in the air. “Are there any bugs?” he asks, voice rasping. Dean slowly makes his way to a bottle of whiskey sitting on the window seal, shaking his head.

“Had a couple roaches a while back, other than that, no,” he says, grabbing two glasses. He sets them on his desk, filling the glasses half-way with the liquor. “Dean Winchester. Am I looking at a new client?”

“I hope so,” he says, reluctantly tucking his gun into the back of his pants. Dean offers the man a cup of whiskey, sipping from his own. “This isn't how I imagined this interaction going.”

“I figure either you shoot me, or you pay me. Neither sounds bad these days,” he says, chuckling. The other man remains silent. “So...wife's cheating? Boss stealing from the company? What's the case?”

“A missing person, my nephew,” he says, making his way around the desk. Dean grabs a pen and a piece of crumpled paper, leaning on his desk.

“Fun. What's he look like?” Dean asks.

“Brown hair. About 5'10''. Twenty-two. Blue eyes...” He gulps down his whiskey, wiping his mouth afterward. “I just need to know that Jack is alive.”

Dean jots down a few notes, nodding to himself. “Right, and what's your name?” he asks. The other man pauses, looking to the ground. Dean stares at him silently, rolling his wrist when the man doesn't say anything. “You know, like the thing people call you?”

“Castiel,” he says, biting his lip. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean tosses the pen and paper, clasping his hands together. “There it is. I don't work with murderers. If you need a lawyer, my brother's always taking new clients,” he says, gesturing to the door. “Have a good one.”

Castiel takes a step closer. “Sam is the reason I'm here. I'm out of options.”

“Look, I feel for you, I really do but I'll be damned if I get involved with the mafia,” he says, holding his hands up and shaking his head.

“Who said anything about the mafia?”

“You do realize that I locked up Michael, right?” Dean asks. Castiel clenches his jaw, huffing. 

“Jack doesn't deserve to be ignored because of what his family is 'allegedly' involved in,” he says,taking a step closer to Dean. “Name a number, any ridiculous price and it's yours.”

Chuckling, the Winchester crosses his arms over. “I don't take blood money.” He nods to the door. “See ya,” he adds. Sam jogs into the room, staring between the two men with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, what's up with Max?” Sam asks, frowning when his eyes land on Castiel. “Oh, you've met.”

“Yup. We met and now he’s on his way out,” Dean says, sipping his liquor before setting the cup down. Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, chest heaving. Wordlessly, he pulls his gun out, aiming it at Dean.

“I don't think you understand the position you're in.”

“Woah, hey,” Sam says, holding his hands up to Castiel. “Let's calm down.”

“I don't have time for this. I need help, Dean.”

Dean cracks a grin, tilting his head. “I already told you my answer. Burn down my business, shoot me, whatever. I've got nothing to lose.”

“Yeah?” Castiel returns his smile, turning the gun on Sam. “Well, You've got him,” he says. Dean stands from his desk, his smile being replaced with a grimace. “Lay his life on the line, and I'll know you stand for nothing.”

“Castiel,” Sam says, hurt apparent in his tone.

“You love pointing that thing around, huh?” Dean asks, voice wavering. Castiel stares at him blankly, cocking his gun.

“Might I remind you that I've been accused of allegedly killing men for much less. Imagine what I'd hypothetically do to him to gain your cooperation, Detective,” he says. A look of hurt crosses Sam's face, and he turns his eyes to the elder Winchester, letting out a heaving breath. Castiel raises his eyebrows, turning his gun to the ceiling and firing off a round. “In case you thought it wasn't loaded.”

Dean looks between both men, swiping a hand over his face. When Castiel points the gun at Sam, Dean holds his hands out to him. “I'll do it,” he blurts, heart pounding in his chest. Smiling, Castiel de-cocks his gun, looking between both men.

“Thank you, I'll be here first thing tomorrow.”

Eternity squad: @sheinthatfandom​​ @greenshinigamieyes @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @bcarolinablr @mrswhozeewhatsis @mssunnyone

[littlemisswinchester7]

AU: Helloooo how are you all ? I hope you’re all doing fine and that you’re safe. I haven’t posted anything for a quite long time, sorry, collège is stealing my time ahah. Here is one fanfic I wrote on a break at college! Hope you’ll like it!

Summary: Sam is so done to be stuck in the middle of his brother and his angel’s constant flirting. This has to end, he has a devious plan to make them both confess their feelings.

A devious plan (Destiel)

That day, Sam Winchester had enough. The sexual tension between his stupid brother and his stubborn Angel was becoming unbearable. Yet, neither of them had the guts to admit their feelings.

Sam was powerless in this exhausting situation. He was always in the middle of those two, and every time it was like he was caught up in a couple fight. It was enough! Today he’ll break this infernal spiral because it was Toxic and heartbreaking for the three of them.

The younger brother had conceived a whole plan in his head, a truly devious plan. Since his brother was too proud to admit that he really liked Castiel, Sam will make him spit the truth by force. He’ll make him believe that he’s interested in the Angel to drive him mad until Dean loses it. Sam will play dumb like he had no idea of their feelings. That was gonna be a sweet revenge for Sam.

He will teach both of them a lesson they will be force to learn and that they will remember for sure.

They were on a vamp nest case today. Some kids went missing and people reported strange sounds coming from the street. A woman even claimed she saw a man covered in blood yesterday. Of course, the first question Sam asked her was pretty obvious.

« Miss Pratt, why didn’t you call the police yesterday then? When you saw that woman? »

As usual, Sam was staring at the potential suspect with his piercing eyes. It was like he knew everything you might possibly tell him and therefore, he was only testing you. He could either make you freak out so bad that you needed to confess right away or make you weak in the knee. I must say that either way you ended up telling him everything he needed. This was how Sam Winchester worked.

In this precise case, the woman seemed to have been the victim of the second option. She was staring back at Sam intently with shiny blue eyes. She was pretty good looking even considering the recent events which were noticeable due to the bags under her eyes. She was about Sam’s age and the hunter decided he would take advantage of the situation. He wanted her to hit on him in front of his brother so that he could nicely turn her advances down. That will definitely catch Dean’s attention.

« I guess I was scared, and I wasn’t sure of what I saw, what I think I saw. I thought nobody would have believed me. But now I realize that I should have called the police. I’m sorry. » she answered with a shaking voice.

« It’s okay, as long as you’re telling us the truth now. Was there anything weird on that woman ? Except the blood of course. Any detail could be important. »

She hesitated for a moment and then she started to talk again with an uncertain look.

« I’m not sure, but ... »

« You can tell us, me anything Aria. We will believe you. » Sam added with a little smile.

« I might be crazy but I think she had fangs, like vampire fangs »

« You’re not crazy, thank you for your time. »

Sam leaned forward to pick his phone that « accidentally » felled from his pocket and « inadvertently » knocked the cup of coffee on his way up. The cup shattered on the wooden floor and the brown liquid spread everywhere. Of course, Sam pretended it was an accident and Dean mocked his little brother for being the trouble maker for once.

« Oh my god! I’m really sorry miss Pratt, can I help you clean this mess? » Sam asked with little concern in his voice.

The woman, -whose name was Aria- had a quicker reaction than Sam and caught a napkin on the table before he could.

« Oh no no don’t worry! It happens! » She answered.

When she bent herself in front of Sam -which, Sam was certain, she did on purpose- Dean winked at his brother.

« Come on dude, don’t you see the signs? That woman is blinking like a traffic light.» Dean whispered

Sam couldn’t help a little chuckle from his throat. He couldn’t get enough of his brother and his constant sex allusions which, by the way, didn’t make any sense sometimes. The woman interrupted his train Of thoughts as she got up.

« I would have offered you another cup but, I’m afraid I’m running out of coffee. » she made a small pause as if she was scared of her next words. « But, if you like, I can offer you one » she almost whispered.

This was exactly what Sam wanted to happen. Everything was just perfect for now.

« Oh! I’m sorry but I have to refuse. It would have been a pleasure but I need to focus on the case right now. »

If Sam hurt her feelings nobody would have known.

« Right, of course. Good luck to you gentlemen. »

She then, gently directed us towards the way out and the second Sam crossed the door Dean went completely hysterical.

« What the hell Sammy? This woman wanted you and you refused? Have you seen her? We don’t have any research to do we both know that it’s a vampire nest that we’re looking for. »

Dean almost yelled.

« Yeah so? She was hot but not my type. » Sam said whilst trying to look enigmatic.

« Not your type? Are you sick Sammy? Is there anything I need to know ‘bout you ? » he said with a truly concerned tone.

« No I’m not sick Dean. I’m just not in the mood. Besides, I have someone on my mind and I can’t do that. »

There, Sam said it and Dean was now staring at him with wide eyes.

« WHAT? Who is she Sammy? Another crazy ass bitch like Ruby? » he screamed

« That was low Dean. He’s not crazy, he’s different. »

Dean stopped in the side of the road.

« A he ? You’re thinking about a he ? You’re gay? »

Dean was so surprised that it looked like his eyes would just pop out of his head.

« I’m not gay, I’m pan. »

« What is pan ? » dean asked suspiciously

« It means that I do not care about the genre of the person. I only care about the person and his or her mentality. »

« Well, okay. Who is he then ? »

« I’m not sure if I should tell you. » Sam said playing dramatic.

« Oh come on Sam! I’m your brother. Tell me. » Dean was starting to to be annoyed. Perfect.

« Okay I’ll tell you but you can’t tell anyone. »

Sam suddenly felt like a teenage boy again and he was dying of amusement inside. Dean made no answer but it was pretty clear with the look on his face that he wanted Sam to continue.

« Ok, it’s Cas. »

For a minute I though that Dean had an attack. When he finally moved again I could see a very weird expression on his face. My revelation hurt him because he finally realized that Cas was not to take for granted. As long as their relation was blurry anything could happen. If someone had the guts to make a declaration to the Angel and that the Angel accepted it Dean would be left aside. He’ll end up blaming himself because he left the only good thing in his life.

« I like him, like, really really like him. I think I might be in love with him. » Sam added.

« No you’re not. You’re definitely not In love with Cas. » Dean reacted.

« What do you mean I’m not in love your Cas? I just told you I am! And I’m gonna ask him out today. »

Dean got out of the car and slammed baby’s door. Sam followed.

« What’s wrong with you Dean ? Dammit get over yourself you can’t stand that I like an other man ? Really ? »

« No Sammy it has nothing to do with you. You can like anyone but not Cas. »

« But why ? Why not Cas ? » Sam asked again

« Because Cas is mine okay! You can’t be in love with Cas and ask him out because I do ! I won’t watch my brother kiss the man I am so desperately in love with! » Dean finally shouted.

The plan had worked. Dean had confessed his love for the Angel.

« Of course you are, and of course I’m not Dean. »

When Dean understood the meaning to that he started to cry and I thought he was about to kick my ass.

« Why did you ... why would you do this? »

« Trust me I’m helping you right now Dean. Turn around. »

Cas was there. He showed up minutes ago when he heard his name being said again and again as we were fighting. He needed to hear this too.

« You like me ? » Cas asked

« Of course I love you stupid Angel. Don’t you dare like someone else. »

« How could I ever? I love you too Dean. I thought it was pretty obvious when I saved you all those times. I even abandoned heaven and God for you, only for you. »

And so the story ends, the beautiful story of how Sam Winchester help the two men in his life to get together. We always knew you were such a fangirl Sam.

Please let me know what you think about this story and support me on Archiveofourown ❤️ my username is « ClaireMcKenzieFraser »

[destielstuffandthings]

I'm a new follower. You asked for promote but I don't know what kind you want so could you do a De-aged Destiel Fic ??

“This isn’t happening,” Sam groaned. “It can’t. This. Is NOT. Happ--no! Cas, stop!!”

A flash of black hair and giggles disappeared into thin air.

“Shit. Dean? Dean! Where you at buddy?” Sam called out.

“Shhhh, Cas! He gonna hear us!”

“Hey! I’m not the one goin’ ‘shhh’ so loud! Sammy is gonna hear YOU firs--”

The closet door flew open. “There you are. Guys, come on. Please, just stay in ONE spot ok? Watching you guys is giving me whiplash.”

The two five year old boys raced out of the closet and down the hall.

“I’m gonna find that witch and burn her to absolute ashes,” Sam muttered, stomping down the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on that night, Sam was in the kitchen grumbling under his breath.

“Guys! Dinner! Dean, I made pie!”

Little footsteps came padding down the hallway.

“Hey, Cas, stop shovin’! You don’ even eat food!”

“Do, too!” Cas yelled, pushing Dean into the doorjamb.

“There’s enough for everyone, guys. Quit fighting,” Sam scolded. “Sit at the table. Cas, wash your hands.”

“I did!”

“When?”

“.....before.”

“Before what?”

Cas sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Fine.”

“C’n I have pie first?” Dean asked, pulling the tin close to his chest.

“No, Dean. I made you a burger. Dinner, then dessert.” 

“But---” Dean put on his best mean face “I’m a man! I can do wha’ever I want!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re five. When we find the witch that did this and get you grown up again, you can have pie whenever you want. But for now, you and Cas HAVE to listen to me.” He turned to Castiel who just walked back into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his over sized t-shirt. “And NO flying.”

“Wha! Why?” Castiel pouted.

“I have to idea where you and Dean go when you flutter off. You can’t be taking my brother to who-the-hell-knows where.”

Dean giggled. “We has a super secret spot.”

Cas scowled at Sam. “Yeah. And no grown ups is ‘llowed!”

“Sit. Eat.” Sam pointed at the table and pushed a plate in Cas’ direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, uh...Dean, you can go first,” Sam pointed to the tub full of warm soapy water. “Get in, clean up and then get your pajamas on.”

“I don’t HAVE pajamas. Nothin’ fits me, DUH,” Dean sighed as he climbed into the tub.

Sam groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can wear one of your grown up t-shirts or something ok?”

Castiel appeared in the tub next to Dean. “I got’s a shirt you can wear!”

“Cas! You can’t---you gotta wait your turn!” Sam squealed.

Dean was already laughing and making Cas a bubble mohawk. Realizing this was a loosing battle, he sat on the toilet lid and watched the boys splash and play.

“Ooooh look at da big bad angel,” Dean said in a deep voice.

Castiel cleared his throat and lowered his chin. “My name is Castiel and I’m an angel of da Loooord.” He slapped the water and sent it flying over the bathroom.

“Ok, guys. Time to get out. Pajamas and bedtime, alright?”

Before Dean could protest, Sam turned around and pointed a finger at him. “No complaining.”

Both the boys pouted and climbed out of the tub.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“.....and then, with a swing of his silver knife, John sliced off the evil vampires’ head and saved the day. The end.” Sam whispered the last lines of his made-up story. He tucked the blanket up under their chine and brushed the hair from Dean’s forehead. “Night, guys.”

Sighing, Sam sat down in the war room and pulled out his phone.

“Well hellow, Mr. Winchester. What can I do for you?”

“Rowena, I need help,” Sam sighed.

“What is it this time?” she asked, annoyance building in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Converterent alica, sic faciam illud!”

Purple waves shot from Rowenas fingers and traveled up the bed. In a flash of blinding light, the once five year old boys were now grown men snuggling in bed together.

“Oh I have GOT to get a picture of this,” Sam snorted, pulling out his phone.

Rowena placed her hand on Sams’ chest and shook her head. “Leave the poor lads be.”

Dean grunted in his sleep and pulled Cas closer, nuzzling his nose into the angels neck.

“I think this is going to be the start of somethin’, just you wait and see,” Rowena said with a smile.

[torn-and-frayed]

Protection

Word Count: 1035

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square Filled: Neighbors

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse 

A/N: Written for @spnaubingo and a drabble prompt sent by @docharleythegeekqueen bolded in the text 

Feedback and Constructive Criticism Always Welcome

SPN AU Bingo Masterlist

Slowly and carefully you slid out of bed, careful not to wake the man sleeping next to you. Nick. The man who once claimed to love you. The man who’d given you a black eye just hours earlier. The man you couldn’t seem to break away from. The only solace you had was nights, when he’d drink himself to sleep and you could sneak out into your backyard to stare at the stars.

You poured yourself a glass of whiskey and slipped out the back door, walking down and taking a seat on the porch steps. You leaned against the railing, looking up into the night sky, counting the stars, sipping your whiskey. There had to be a way out of this hell, if only you could find it.

“Y/N...everything ok?” The voice startled you. You hadn’t expected another person to be out at almost 3am and you jumped, almost spilling your drink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I see you out here every night…” Dean. It was Dean Winchester, your neighbor and former best friend until your boyfriend forbid you from speaking to him. “I miss you, kid.”

“I miss you too.” You couldn’t look at him. You were too ashamed. You’d shut him out of your life all because Nick told you to. Anything Nick told you to do, you’d done, and you had absolutely nothing to show for it but a complete loss of yourself. “M’fine. Sometimes I just like to come count the stars, ya know? Helps me sleep. Like when we were kids.”

“Yeah...that’s why I was out here too.” Dean hopped the fence and made his way to your back steps, taking a seat next to you. He looked you over, scanning every detail. You knew he’d see the bruises that your oversized flannel shirt didn’t cover. “Did he give you these bruises? And that black eye?”

“H-how did you - I never took the makeup off today. How did you know?”

“It’s swollen under your eye.” Dean spoke softly, running his finger gently along your face. “Y/N/N, tell me the truth. It’s me you’re talkin’ to. Does he hurt you? Is that why you don’t talk to me anymore? Because he told you not to?”

The lump formed in your throat and your eyes burned as you stared at him. All you could do was nod your head as the tears spilled over, hot and wet, soaking your cheeks. “I’ll kill him.” Dean seethed, about to get up and storm your house.

“No!” You managed to grab his arm and pull him back down next to you. “Please, no. I don’t want you to do anything stupid. He’s not worth it.”

“Y/N he’s hurting you. I can’t just let that go! Not when I lo -” You both froze, knowing exactly what Dean had been about to say but hadn’t. “I can’t lose my best friend. I won’t.”  

“Then help me,” you whispered. “Help me get away from him. Please. I’m not strong enough to do it alone, Dean.”

“You’re asking for help, kid.” Dean pulled you into his chest, resting his chin on top of your head while you cried. “Seems plenty strong to me.”

“I don’t feel that way,” you murmured against his chest.

“You’re gonna come stay at my house tonight.” Dean said. “Then first thing tomorrow I’m taking you to mom and dad’s to stay for awhile.”

“I can’t impose on them -”

“Are you kidding?” Dean laughed. “Mom’s always liked you more than me. She’ll be glad to have you. Plus, I’m planning on moving back to Lawrence in a few weeks once the lease on the house is up. Haven’t exactly had the chance to tell you since you haven’t been allowed to talk to me but once I rent a house out there you can stay with me instead.”

“Thank you,” you sighed in relief as Dean stood up and took your hand, walking you back to his house for the night.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “Look, I know you don’t want me to kill him but...you want me to kick his ass?”

You laughed in response, the first real laugh you’d let out in who knew how long, resting your head against Dean’s chest.

Weeks later, you were well established in Mary and John’s house. Dean was right, Mary did love having you there. Dean had made sure you had gotten new stuff since you never went back into your old house. He’d also made sure you’d been able to find a new job and he’d gotten you into therapy for everything you were dealing with. He’d been absolutely perfect. Today was the day he was coming back to Lawrence and you absolutely couldn’t wait.

You heard the door open and ran for the living room, meeting him at the door and attacking him in a hug. “Hello to you too.” Dean chuckled. “I found a house I think would be good for us but I want you to see it. I made an appointment for tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” you smiled and finally let him all the way in.

“Brought some of your old stuff too,” he passed you your suitcase, from your old house, and you furrowed your eyebrows, noticing his bloodied and bruised knuckles. He didn’t have a single scratch on his face or anywhere else but both his hands were torn up.

“De - what did you do?”

“Look...I knew I was leaving and he didn’t know where...I couldn’t help it, Y/N/N, please don’t be mad.” Dean pled with you. “I wanted you to have your stuff back, especially the sentimental stuff, and I wanted him to get what he deserved.”

“I’m not mad. He deserved what he got. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” you sighed.

“Do I look alright?” You nodded, launching yourself at him again and burying your face in his chest. “He’ll never hurt you again.” Dean said, rocking you back and forth on your feet, one hand tangled in your hair, the other rubbing your back.

“I know,” you murmured against his chest. “I’ve got you to protect me. Always.”

Dean Tags: 

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[emptywithout]

The Way You Breathe (part 14)

Sam and Dean

Word count:1268

Warnings: none

Wincest warnings: KISSING! Touching, murmurs, lips, tongue, that kinda stuff

 “It’s ok Sam. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

Sam still looked up at Dean, blinking softly.

“Sam, let’s get you some rest, ok? I’m gonna help you fall asleep. Let me get you some water and I’ll be right back, ok?” Sam nodded and sat back on the pillows, holding his injured wrists to his chest.

Dean came back with water, Bobby following close behind. Bobby pressed his hand to Sam’s forehead.

“You get some good rest, now son, ok? I’ll be right out that door if you need me, ok?”

Bobby placed a quick kiss to Sam’s forehead and left the room.

**

Dean sat down next to Sam on the bad.

“Let’s find you a comfortable position, ok baby?”

Sam sighed softly, closing his eyes. “Like it when you call me that, Dean.”

Dean paused, smiling. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it. “I’ll remember to say it more often, then.” Sam’s weak smile practically melted Dean’s heart.

“Dean?”

“Yeah baby?” Sam’s smile got bigger.

“I want my surprise.”

Dean’s eyes suddenly looked sad. “I…I really wanted it to be special Sam. This won’t be special. It won’t be like I planned it.”

“But it will still be with you. That makes it special.”

“But Sam –“

“Dean? Please? Can you give it to me right here? We don’t have to go back to that parking lot, do we?”

Suddenly Dean remembered the whole set up he’d left behind in that parking lot. He wondered if the blanket and drinks were still there, hidden behind the tree line.

“No Sam, we don’t have to go back to the parking lot.” Dean gently traced the backs of his fingers across Sam’s cheek. 

Dean looked over at his brother, who was staring directly at him. He couldn’t look away from those beautiful eyes. ”We don’t have to go back, but I want to wait until we are alone, ok?”

Sam didn’t look away. “Well, can you give me a hint at least? Of what this surprise might be?” His face was so close. All Dean would have to do was lean down and…but instead he whispered, “Yeah, I’ll give you a hint, baby.” He lowered his head to Sam’s neck and gave a whisper light nuzzle under his ear. Sam shivered at the barely there touch. Dean pressed his lips gently over the soft skin at the bottom of Sam’s ear, giving the tiniest lick, then pulled away slowly. Looking to see Sam’s reaction, he smiled at what he saw.

“Wow Dean. That’s just the hint?” Sam’s cheeks reddened as he blushed.

“You’ll have to wait for the rest, Sammy. I promise, it will be worth the wait.”

“You’re going to make me wait? After that?” Sam’s eyes were blown wide.

“Yep.”

“Jerk”

“Bitch.”

“How about after your nap. I think I can arrange a new special surprise for you.”

Sam frowned. “Alright. I guess I can wait a little bit longer.”

“Ok, well please drink some water first, you haven’t had enough yet. And then we’ll get comfortable? However you want to lay, I’ll stay with you.”

Sam drank the water slowly, finishing almost the entire glass. Dean sat back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

“How do you want me, Sam?”

Sam suppressed a grin and put his hand on Dean’s chest.

“Right there, Dean. Right where you are.” Sam slowly lowered his head, resting it against Dean’s chest. It felt warm, and soothing, and right.

“I can hear your heartbeat, Dean. It’s perfect.” Dean wrapped his right arm around Sam, pulling him closer, making him feel safe. Sam gently ran his fingers up and down Dean’s chest.

“It beats for you Sam. It’s strong because of you.”

Sam just sighed, his breathing becoming deeper and slower and soon evening out.

Dean slowly ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, giving soft kisses at his hairline.

In his sleep, Sam’s hand curled up, clutching at Dean’s chest, his hand wrapping around the necklace that hung there. Dean reached down and grabbed the one Sam was wearing.

Although they didn’t know it about the other, both brothers felt warmth surge through them. Dean felt more comforted than he’d been in a long time. And Sam, well Sam just smiled and slept in Dean’s arms.

**

Bobby popped his head in and told Dean they were heading out to get food and they’d be back in a few hours or so. Dean nodded and looked down at Sam, stroking his cheek.

Sam slept for two hours.

Dean was waiting for him.

Sam stirred, grimaced a little at the pain, and opened his eyes. His brother’s gorgeous eyes were looking back at him.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean whispered, as he ran his thumb along Sam’s jaw. Sam swallowed nervously.

“Hey Dean,” Sam’s voice was so quiet, Dean almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry it’s late, but I have a birthday surprise for you. It won’t be what it should be. But when you’re all better, I’ll give you a complete re-do. For now, I hope this will do.”

Dean still held Sam in his arms, as they lay together on the bed. Sam blinked and took a shaky breath.

“Trust me,” breathed Dean, leaning in closer to Sam.

“I do,” whispered Sam.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Dean was trembling. But he reached his left hand behind Sam’s head, lightly grabbing his hair and pulling him closer.

Sam’s eyes fluttered closed. Dean paused, looking at his brother’s beautiful face.

“Dean,”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“I like your surprise.”

“Oh baby, I haven’t even started yet.”

Dean leaned closer, his lips touching Sam’s for the first time. Both boys moaned at the contact.

Time slowed down. Dean pressed his lips softly at first, then gaining more courage, he deepened the kiss. And Sam let him. Dean gently nudged Sam’s lips with his tongue, asking him to open for him, which he did. Sam groaned, deep and low. His right arm went up and wrapped around Dean’s back, pulling him down. He winced at the pain in his wrists, but he kept his hand on Dean’s back, fisting his shirt tightly. Dean settled in, lowering his body, their hips touching, never letting his lips leave his brother’s.

He ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, kissing slowly and softly. Tenderly. “Sammy,” whispered Dean when he finally lifted his head for air.

“Don’t stop, Dean,”

“Never gonna stop, baby.”

The kissed for a long time, lazily twining their tongues together.

Each press of their lips felt like they were reaching deep into each other’s soul.

It felt so right. So good.

Dean’s mouth, warm and wet against Sam’s lips, slowly slid down to his neck. Sam craned his neck, allowing Dean more access, gasping and moaning at each touch of his brother’s lips. He worked his way to Sam’s ear, licking and nibbling softly.

“Tell me.” Dean whispered into Sam’s ear, making the younger Winchester shiver. “Do you like your surprise?”

“Dean, it’s perfect.”

Dean cupped Sam’s face in his hands. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever.”

“Me too, Dean.” Dean smiled, and slowly moved back to Sam’s lips. They tasted just right. They were perfect. Sam was perfect.

They kissed, hands intertwining, pulling and pushing at each other until their lips were almost sore. They kissed until they were breathless. They finally broke apart when they heard Bobby’s truck pull up outside the house an hour later.

I really want feedback for this scene...I hope I did ok with it!!!

Squee’s Supporters

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[winmance]

Let me start with, I do not hate Castiel BUT I keep re reading this brilliant fic by Nisaki which has unrequited!Destiel and I have such a hankering for Wincest where Dean is so totally gone on Sam and I mean completely and utterly and Cas is jealous. Sam may or may not know of Cas' feelings and Cas may or may not turn out to be a negative character. AU or not. I'll leave all the details to you of course but unrequited Destiel with Wincest. (Works with Misha and J2 as well.) Thanks~

Ok so I had so much troubles with this one, because I didn’t know if I wanted it to be Wincest or J2, AU or not AU. So anyway, here’s a wincest au, because… Because. I hope you like it, if you don’t, send another ask and I’ll do another version ;)

The first time they met, Castiel wouldn’t have think for an instant that they could be friend. Dean Winchester was everything he hates: He kept talking, making unfunny jokes, and, most of all, putting the attention on himself. Not that he could blame anyone: Dean was glorious. The most beautiful man he ever seen.

How fair is it, to find someone you hate so beautiful?

It was their first day ate college and when Castiel found out that they were sharing a room for the next of the year, he wanted to call his parents to pick him up.

But Dean, beautiful, funny, and interesting Dean, turned out to be everything Cas wanted, and needed. He took Castiel to the club for the first time, then he made him drink a beer for the first time, and before he was aware of it, Castiel wished he would be his first time, too.

The second year, they shared a room again, much to Castiel happiness.

That’s when things went bad.

Because the second years of college was also the year Sam Winchester came to live with them.

Of course, Dean would talk about Sam sometimes, and maybe if Castiel hadn’t been so busy looking inside his beautiful green eyes, he would have seen that something wasn’t right. But he didn’t, not until it was too late. Not until 15 years old Sam was walking in their room, a bag with all his belonging inside, tucked under Dean arms like a scared puppy.

“He had a fight with our parents. My dad and him never got along, and our mother in law just want him away, you know? I can’t let him go back”

“Hey, your family is my family, right?” Castiel said, his hand resting innocently on Dean knee.

Maybe somewhere in Castiel brain, he thought that he could buy Sam friendship, and that Sam would recommend to his brother. “Hey Dean, I think you should bang your best friend”

But this idea died after the first month that Sam spent with them.

Dean would dedicate all his days, minutes, and seconds to Sam, day and night. Even after Castiel suggested that one of them should sleep on the coach, they still chose to sleep in Dean single bed, forcing them to sleep as close as possible.

When one was taking a shower, the other would go in the bathroom to make sure they were still able to talk.

When Dean had to study at the library, Sam would go with him, always sitting next to each other, until there wasn’t any more room.

It was stupid, to be jealous of Sam. He was Dean brother, he was having a hard time, and they always been close.

“Do you think that things will get better between Sam and your parents?” He asked one day, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“I don’t know, man” Dean licked his lips uncomfortably. “I mean, probably. But I… I don’t want Sam to go. I missed him so much last year, he’s a part of me, the other side of my soul. I can’t… It was hard enough to leave him the first time”

It was stupid to be jealous of Sam until he wasn’t. Until Sam, slutty little Sam with his too short t-shirt and his too long legs, walked in front of Castiel with hickeys on his throat. He didn’t leave their room. Castiel did, but Sam and Dean spent the weekend here, all by themselves.

That’s when he started to notice the way they would look at each other, how Sam looked at Dean like he owned the moon, and how Dean would look at Sam like he was the moon. It was the little touches between them, just a brush of the hand sometimes, too much times. It was the way Sam would always, always end up into Dean arms, and even on his laps sometimes.

“Dean? Are you sleeping?” Sam whispered

“I was” He said, groaning “What do you want?”

“Nothing, I just… It’s cool that I stay here, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I don’t know, Castiel… Castiel doesn’t seem to like me”

Castiel couldn’t help but smiled. Of course, he didn’t like him. How could he? Sam was the bitch who was trying to steal what was his.

“Of course, he likes you, Sammy. How could he not?” Dean voice was softer than anything Cas ever heard. It was like a sweet melody that you can’t stop listening, angels rubbing your ears. He closed his eyes, picturing Dean talking to him instead of Sam. “You’re perfect, Sammy”

Sammy. Always this stupid nickname. While Dean would shorter his name, reducing it to Cas, his buddy, he would make Sam’s one longer, Sammy, my Sam, the one that deserved that he takes extra time to say his name.

He hated him. Hated him with all his soul, all his body.

So, he started to fight back. He wouldn’t leave them alone, not a single minute.

When they were watching a movie, he made sure to be right between them, preventing Sam to put his head on Dean chest and his legs on top of his, like he did so many times. When it was time to sleep, he would stay awake as much as possible, knowing full well that Sam wouldn’t do anything as long as he was awake.

But nothing worked. Dean would still smile for Sam, would still cock his favorite food, even if it was vegetables and that he hated it. He would still to Sam with the same interest, his eyes shinning with love and proudness.

Oh, how he wished they could go back to how things were before. When they would spend their days together, talking and laughing, and when Sam was just a face on Dean’s phone and pictures. Sam and Dean used to text every day, but between school and homework, Castiel never played that much attention. He wished he had.

He spent the weekend with his parents, trying to clear his head and to think of a way to have Dean back, to show him that he was there, ready for him, his best friend, his buddy, and not his fucking brother.

But when he came back to the room, confident as ever, he found himself in front of Dean beautiful ass, trusting in and out of Sammy, whispering loving and sweet things in his ear while Sam was moaning like the little slut he was, begging Dean to please go stronger, deeper, faster. Dean would do anything Sam asked him, as always.

It was a bad accident, but maybe not. Because this, this was the proof he needed.

One call. One single call, and Daddy Winchester was here, dragging his youngest son away from his pervert big brother, ignoring the way they would scream, the way Sam would fight back, or the way Dean face was painted in blood.

“He can’t do that, he can’t, I didn’t force him, I didn’t Cas, I didn’t” Dean cried, his head on Castiel lap

“I know, Dean, I know” He sighed, trying to hide his smile as much as possible “Come on, let me clean your face”

Maybe he shouldn’t have try to kiss Dean this fast, maybe he should have been patient. But the little slut was gone, and he wanted Dean back, wanted him for himself.

Because no matters how hard he cried, how he begged, how he told Dean he loved him, that he did this for them, for him to be happy, and loved, and Christ, can’t he see that? Can’t he see that everything he did was for him? But Dean wouldn’t even look at him.

Next time he saw Dean, it was on the missing news, with John Winchester telling the world how his youngest son just ran away with his rapist of big brother, with nothing but a bag and Dean’s impala.

If Castiel could go back in time, he would poison the little slut during his very first night here.

[a-simple-lee]

Artistic Inspiration - An SPN fic

Prompt (anonymous): Can u do a soulmate au destiel, were they both won’t stop bothering each other with tickles?! I know that theres not really a plot, but I love the soulmate au and I thought that you wrote for it before, sorry if you didn’t ( I have a horrible memory) thank u 😘

Author’s Note: Ok so although I do not in fact write for the Soulmate AU, I was so happy to receive this request bc it’s absolutely one of my favourite AU’s ever, and I’d been hoping to write it for a while! I wasn’t sure exactly which Soulmate AU was referred to in this prompt, since there are a bunch of different ones, but I went with the classic one where soulmates are linked through their skin, and whatever is drawn on their skin also appears on their soulmate’s skin, if that makes sense. I think there was a tickle fic I read a while back set in the same AU, I’ll go and find it and link it as soon as I can! 

Wordcount: 3,122

Description: Destiel. Cas probably shouldn’t have told his soulmate he was ticklish. Silly drawing antics ensue.

           It had first started when Dean was in secondary school. His teacher was attempting to somehow excite interest in a bunch of teens who couldn’t possibly care less about trying to find the solutions of simultaneous equations, and Dean was barely awake. Somehow the pen that was supposed to be taking notes had drifted to the inside of his wrist, where it was tracing the beginnings of a small doodle. Dean glanced down at the ink flooding onto his skin and squinted in concentration, joining the last two points. There. A tiny star. Some miniscule whisper in the back of his mind scolded him for drawing on his skin; from a young age it was strongly discouraged that children draw on their arms, lest their soulmate reply - that sort of bond wasn’t meant to be formed until later in life.

           But Dean had had enough. After all, it didn’t exactly feel like he was ruining fate’s plans; there was no sense of foreboding, no guilt burning in his blood. None of this seemed wrong. It just felt like the nib of a pen pressing on his skin.

           …Wait a minute.

He wasn’t drawing.

His breathing stilted for a moment, air seeming to catch in the space between his throat and chest. Eyes turned to the ceiling, he tried to find where the oxygen in the air had gone. There wasn’t any. Against his will, his gaze drifted to where he’d drawn the star.

A single planet orbited it. The ink was blue, written in fountain pen.

Hand fumbling over the maze of his desk, Dean grabbed his biro. His mouth found the end and chewed as his mind raced. What do you say to the person you’re supposed to spend eternity with?

Bored.

He could’ve rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it. But it was all he could think to write.

A wave of cobalt swept over his wrist, forming a letter. Rapt, Dean watched in unbridled curiosity as the reply took shape.

Same.

Dean grinned. Glancing at the teacher to check they were still occupied, his pen returned to his skin.

I’m Dean. You?

Castiel. But Cas is easier.

At the front of the classroom, the teacher’s whiteboard pen stopped squeaking as they turned to the students.

“And…that’s the solution. Everybody got that?”

           Six years later, and Cas was propping his head up over a med textbook. He couldn’t fathom why he’d wanted to choose one of the most tedious majors in existence, yet for some reason he felt himself driven to study. At one am. On a monday night. Technically tuesday morning, Cas reasoned to himself with a note of hysteria. The college library wasn’t completely empty; a few solitary students were hunched over their notes as if they held universal secrets, clearly cramming for tests. Cas winced out of sympathy - his phone buzzed, and his hand reached out to dismiss it in a frustrated swipe. He tugged on his sweater sleeves and rubbed his eyes, too exhausted to try to memorize any more diagrams of the human Endocrine system. Picking up his pen with a huff, he attempted to make some more notes.

           Yet when he found his hand drifted to his skin instead, Castiel didn’t mind. His eyes widened when he saw he’d already been left a message.

You awake?

He quickly scribbled out a response.

Sorry. I didn’t notice the writing. I am awake. Why are you?

I dunno. Couldn’t sleep, or something.

Dean, you make no sense.

Right back at ya. Why are YOU awake?

           A small huff of a laugh juddered out of Cas as he shook his head. A girl at the desk working over her calculator gave him an odd look.

Revision.

Need some help?

No. Too tired.

Why don’t we play a game, then? Keep you awake.

Dean, I don’t-

           His message was cut short when Dean scribbled over the ‘don’t’ he was writing.

Just say yes, I’m trying to help here.

Fine.

Ok. I’m gonna draw on you and you gotta write the scientific name of the body part on your wrist.

Dean, that sounds like it could-

No. I’m just trying to keep you awake, is all. Chill.

Ok.

           Cas planted his head firmly on the desk in a gesture of exasperation. There was a slight pause as he waited for something to happen. He flinched when the familiar pressure of Dean’s biro scraped over the inside of his upper arm, tracing a tiny line. Eyes scrunching as the pen suddenly changed course in an erratic jerk, his hand quickly scribbled the name out onto his wrist.

Bicep Brachii.

The writing halted for a moment as Dean seemed to consider Castiel’s answer. A few more seconds passed before his scrawled capitals appeared next to Cas’ cursive.

Sounds right. I just wanna finish the drawing, then I’ll do the next one.

Whatever you say, Da Vinci.

Shut up.

           The seconds between transitioning from Cas’ wrist to his inner arm seemed to carry an air of indignation. The med student felt his arm twitch against his will as the ink made touchdown on his skin again, continuing to make seemingly random lines. He tried to trace their paths in his mind, attempting a sort of mental join-the-dots; but it was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate on forming an image when the doodle seemed to be encroaching further and further up his arm. A slight quirk of his lips tried to pull itself into a reflexive smile as the trailing lines suddenly became quick pokes; Cas felt random ink dots being prodded and squiggled into his arm. He reached for his pen.

Ok, that’s enough. Can we move on?

Why?

It tickles.

You didn’t tell me you were ticklish.

           Castiel regretted the decision immediately - the feeling of a pen trailing up towards his armpit had him clamping his arms to his torso, trying to keep his composure in the middle of a library.

Stop!! I’m in the library!

           Much to his relief, the pen nib ceased its torture.

Alright, you dork.

Shut up.

Only if you go home and get some sleep.

           He rolled his eyes, reluctantly sliding his textbook into his satchel.

Fine. Good night.

Good night.

           A concerning groan sounded from the car as Dean made what felt like the thousandth tightening with his spanner. The impala juddered worryingly, and Dean groaned, wheeling his way out from underneath the car for a lunch break.

Hello, Dean.

           Cas’ writing was a welcome distraction from the frustration of car fixing, Dean decided. He grabbed his pen and began scrawling a response on his way to the kitchen.

Hey, Cas.

Sam was sat at the table, two sandwiches in front of him.

“How’s the break from college goin’, Sam?”

His brother groaned, sliding a sandwich to Dean, who took it and sat down, leaving it untouched for a minute.

“Uneventful. Jess and I have been writing to one another,” he paused, gesturing to his ink-covered arm. “but everybody else is just kind of taking a breather for the weekend.”

“Huh. Well, Baby’s not holding up too well. I’m gonna have to grab a couple new parts for her sometime-”

I didn’t appreciate your torture yesterday.

           Dean spluttered, shaking his head with a grin.

“Cas, you son of a b*tch.”

           Sam had since learned better than to question his brother’s conversations with his soulmate, and went back to eating his lunch.

It wasn’t torture, Cas.

You try being quiet in the library when someone is tickling you.

Nice try, but I ain’t ticklish.

Really?

Nope. Not at-  

A brief scribble under his arm caused him to recoil, words dying on his skin as his pen trailed into a jerky sort of flatline.

“Dude, you ok?” Sam was giving him a questioning look.

“U-uh yeah, Cas is just being a b*tch, is all” He remarked, before slamming his hands down on the table when something scrawled over his side.

“You sure?”

Cas, you’re so weird. Stop. His handwriting was stilted and shaky despite his efforts to remain unaffected by the pen scratching under his ribs.

“Dean, you are such a liar.” The older WInchester had failed to notice six foot four of brother behind him, reading the conversation on his arm. Before Dean could protest, Sam grabbed his arm and wrote a message to his soulmate.

Don’t listen to him. He’s lying about being ticklish.

Thank you, Sam (?)

           Dean snatched his hand back, rubbing at the ink in a vain attempt to erase it. A slight giggle escaped from his lips as Cas moved his focus to his tummy.

Dammit, Cas! Stop!

I need to finish my drawing.

           He sighed in annoyance, eyes pivoting to the ceiling in a plea to the Heavens before glancing back down and lifting his shirt slightly. A small galaxy was dotting its way over his torso, stars and planets floating in the gaps between his freckles. His head lowered to the table in resignation. It was going to be a while before Cas was finished.

           “Dude, where is your beer?” Gabriel’s head emerged from the kitchen doorway, and Cas looked up from his position in front of the TV to give a vague gesture.

“Second shelf, fridge door.” The loading screen of the WiiU didn’t seem to be moving much. It was one of the occasional times where Cas found himself visited by a brother, normally to play outdated video games and chat about college over beer. To call the experience enjoyable was far from the truth; people meant visits, and visits meant cleaning, which meant trying to convince others through the state of your living space that you were, in fact, mentally stable. Not to say that Cas didn’t appreciate Gabriel’s presence, per se; in fact he found the snarky blonde one of his more bearable relatives.

           Cas’s train of thought was interrupted when the familiar scratching of Dean’s handwriting appeared on the back of his hand.

Hey.

Hello, Dean.

“Talking with lover boy again, are we?” The couch cushions sank as Gabriel plonked himself next to Cas, placing a couple bottles of beer on the table. Cas grunted in acknowledgement, too busy reading Dean’s forming words to reply.

You know, Cas, I forgot to get you back for embarrassing me yesterday.

You wouldn’t. My brother’s here.

Great! He’ll probably help me figure out your ticklish spots.

Please don’t.

           The pillow resting under Dean’s chin shifted as he turned behind him to face Charlie, rucked up plaid shirt obscuring his vision as she stood beside his bare back.

“You know it’ll take a while to wash off, right? It’s some expensive ink.”

“Worth it,” He grinned. Charlie shrugged, grabbing her ink pot and a small paintbrush.

“He’s going to hate you for this,” The redhead’s smile was full of mischief as she sat down over the lower part of her friend’s back.

“Oh, I know. I know.” Dean grabbed the pen lying next to his hand to write a quick reply to Cas.

Sorry, no can do. Charlie needs to practise her body painting.

DEAN-

           Cas’ heart rate shot up, and he turned to Gabriel, eyes wide.

“U-uh, Gabriel, I know you just got here-”

“Something the matter, Cassie?”

“N-not really - yes - it’s complicated.”

“What’s he been saying to you?” Eyebrows furrowed, Gabriel seized his wrist, a wicked grin swiftly overtaking his features. Cas ducked his head, heat rushing to his face.

“Oh, I see~” Gabriel purred, eyes alight with mischief.

“No, Gabriel, it’s not what it looks like-” Suddenly he clamped both hands over his mouth, frame jolting in a reflexive twitch.

“Then, pray tell, ticklish baby bro, what is it?” But the person in question was curled up on the couch, streams of giggles flowing from his mouth as his body flailed in an attempt to stop an invisible tickler.

“Shehe’s pahahainting on my bahack! Mahahahake him stop!”

“Now why would I do that? His friend needs to practice!”

           A snort punctuated Cas’ hysterics, and Gabriel paused to laugh at his spectacle of a brother before whipping out a pen and leaving a message for Dean.

“Dammit-” Dean suppressed a grin as Charlie’s paintbrush swirled over the dip in his spine.

“Aww, whassa matter, Dean-o? Ticklish?”

“Shuhut up, this is worth it.”

“If you say so.” He could feel the smugness radiating from Charlie but didn’t have the resolve to snark at her without dissolving into giggles. With a note of hysteria, he wondered how Cas was holding up. Pressure on his right arm made him glance down.

Wow, Dean-o, going in for the kill already?

Dean frowned at the comic sans-esque writing.

Gabriel? How do you mean?

Dude, his back is a major tickle spot. He can’t stand it.

A smirk overtook his features.

Lucky guess, I suppose.

           Cas shrieked as the brushstrokes reached his shoulder blades, back contorting in the hopes of stopping the feeling of the ink being swished and dotted in playful swirls over his skin.

“Yikes, Cassie, you sound a little tense.”

“Gahahabe, no!”

“Lemme help you relax a bit.” With that, the elder sat over Cas’ hips, tippling his fingers over his brother’s sides as an experiment.

“Ahahaha, plehehehease!” Cas shook his head, dark hair beyond messy as he tried to escape the torment.

“Please what? Carry on? Sure.”

Cas had heard about Charlie before, and she’d sounded nice enough. Yet for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to think of her favourably any more, not with the downright sadistic painting technique. Each and every stroke took a detour, dragging out the tickling to its fullest before the brush lifted for only a few seconds before touching down on another area of his back to wreak havoc with a new style of brushwork, switching from broad sweeps to brief flicks and dabs. It was maddening.

“Nahahahaha!” His hysterics quickly became interspersed with more snorts, and Gabriel paused his torture to laugh at Cas.

“Are you kidding? Snorts? This is too adorable.”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhup, Gahahabriel!”

“Telling me to shut up? In your position, Cassie? You’re gonna pay for that.”

           Gabriel swiftly returned to pinching up and down his brother’s sides, taking delight in the childish giggles that resulted.

“You okay there?” Charlie’s voice was tainted with mirth; she was enjoying herself way too much, Dean thought. He suppressed a flinch, and nodded, jaw tense.

“I-i’m good. How muhuch longer?”

“Almost done.” She replied, a wolfish grin taking shape as she flicked over a dimple at the bottom of Dean’s spine.

“I swear, you’re going down after this, Bradbury.”

“I’d watch your step, Winchester. You’re in no place to be making threats. And it’s Queen Bradbury to you.”

           Dean groaned into the couch cushion. The next few minutes would feel like forever.

“Aahahaha, Gabrihihiel, plehehehehease stahahahahap!”

“Bingo-bango! He speaks! For a moment there I thought you’d turned into a giggle machine, Cassanova!” Gabriel watched with amusement as Cas’ cheeks flushed a darker shade of red at the teasing.

“Ihihih’m nohohot a chihihihild! Plehehehease!”

“Hmmm,” He paused, feigning deliberation as he raised a hand to his chin. “Methinks it’s time for an attitude adjustment, no?”

“GABRIEL NO!” Cas marvelled at the fact the plea managed to make its way out in between laughs.

“More like, Gabriel, yes! Now where was that big bright red tickle button of yours? Yknow, the ones that have ‘do not push’ written on them in capitals?”

“PLEASE DON’T!” The younger Novak kicked his legs against the couch in desperation, dreading the oncoming assault.

“Ah, that’s right!” Gabriel halted, quickly snaking his hands up under Cas’ arms. “There they are!” His fingers wriggled in tandem, a smirk lighting up his features as his brother’s arms immediately clamped to their adjoining torso.

“NAHAHAHAHA!” Cas shut his eyes, the conflicting feelings too much to bear as his nervous system was overloaded with the signals from his heightened nerves. Unmitigated laughter bounced against the walls as he struggled to get free, words escaping his grasp as the tickling became too much. Within seconds, his laughter fell silent, and Cas was reduced to nothing more than a helpless, giggling puddle.

           His sibling quickly withdrew his hands, watching as Cas slowly regained some coherency. Eventually, the hysterics subsided into a more controlled flow of giggles, and Castiel curled up into a fetal position, riding out the remainder of the tickle attack by himself.

           At long last, Charlie’s work appeared to have come to a halt. Cas lay breathing heavily for a few seconds to regain precious oxygen before cautiously reaching for his pen, ignoring Gabriel’s snide remark about his ‘ridiculous ticklishness’.

I hate you.

No you don’t, Cas.

           Dean smiled at the ire seeping from Cas’ message before sitting up and turning to Charlie, careful not to let any wet ink on his skin touch the back of the couch.

“You think he’ll like it?” He huffed. Charlie nodded from beside him.

“It might get you out of any potential repercussions. Maybe.”

“I’ll take maybe over going through that again,” Dean grinned, elbowing Charlie when she reached up to ruffle his hair. His pen drifted to his wrist to elaborate.

No you don’t, Cas. Look in the mirror.

           The door to his bathroom swung open, and Cas stepped onto the tiled floor hesitantly, smooth stone feeling cold against his bare feet. Gabriel followed, and the pair stood in front of the mirror above the sink.

“Well, are you gonna see what it is?” He pushed, nudging Castiel in the shoulder. The latter rolled his eyes, and pulled off his ACDC shirt with a huff that was promptly cut off when the ink was revealed. Cas turned in front of the mirror, trying to get a better view of his own back.

“Wow, little bro. That’s a nice tattoo you got there.”

“I suppose Charlie’s practice may have payed off,” Cas admitted begrudgingly, staring awestruck at the masterpiece that had been traced onto his skin. A pair of black-tinged wings rested unfurled on his back, feathers branching out over his back and crossing onto the backs of his arms in places. He stretched, watching as the drawing shifted with his movements - the wings seemed have their own mind, branching out in synchronisation with his body. Cas fumbled for his pen.

…Thank you. I…suppose this warrants a truce?

           “Dean Winchester, you are a class A Dork.” Charlie muttered, unable to fight back a grin as she watched their conversation on his skin. They were stood in front of the mirror in the corner, admiring her artistry and waiting for the ink to dry.

“Shut up, nerd.” He teased, wings opening as he reached for his pen.

Sure, Cas. Truce.

[thewhiterabbit42]

The Long Road Home: Part 1

Summary: Fate made you and Gabriel soulmates, but a spell has severed your bond completely and removed the archangel from your reality.  Will you be able to find your way back to each other or will you both remain lost?   (Sequel to Homeless)

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader, Destiel (side pairing)

Warnings/tags: angst, soulmates

Word Count: 4556

Author’s Note: This was written for June’s @gabriel-monthly-challenge statement prompt:

He remembered how excited he used to feel watching the sunrise.  Now all it brought was exhaustion and dread.  

Special thanks to my wonderfully amazing beta @sumara62.  

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Giving credit does NOT count.  Reblogging is ok.***

Gabriel had never been good with rules.  Well, that wasn’t completely true.  He was fantastic at breaking them.  Anything other than that, however, was a little iffy.  

He got it.  He really did.  You weren’t a fan of surprises.  He imagined most of your aversion to him stemmed from the fact he couldn’t help but be a constant one, though it wasn’t like it was his idea to have stealth mode permanently activated with you.  

He also understood how it might feel a little creeptastic having a stranger around without your knowledge.  Except he wasn’t one.  He was your father damn soulmate. 

Not that that little fact mattered much anymore.  

You couldn’t see him.  You couldn’t touch him.  You couldn’t feel him.  You couldn’t even remember him.  Every shred of evidence he had ever existed had been erased from your life.  The worst part of it all?  You barely wanted to acknowledge him.  

Father forbid, however, he didn’t acknowledge you or your damn sanctions.  

One of the three stooges was supposed to let you know when he entered the room.  If you were alone, Gabriel was expected to announce himself.  He had preferred to do it with gifts, to show you that he wasn’t as awful as you seemed to think.  When he noticed how most of them ended up tucked out of sight (or in the case of edibles, discreetly in the trash), he decided his cup was filled with enough disappointment these days, (not to mention a more conventional route might save you all on your lightbulb bill).

So now he opened doors.  He moved chairs.  He passed you the sugar when you were making your coffee.  He tried to do things that would be helpful.  

Nothing made a difference.  

He still wasn’t allowed to follow you outside the bunker without a chaperone as though he might leap on you the first chance he had.  Everyone seemed to forget that one, minor little detail about how he’d just pass right through you, even if he tried.  But no.  He had to be treated like some predator because, more importantly, he was not permitted, under any circumstances, in your bedroom.  

Which was where he most certainly was not right now.  

As much as he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, some nights he couldn’t help but slip in after you fell asleep.  He would lay on the edge of the bed, lean frame stretched out, parallel to yours.  He never touched you, though it wasn’t because it wouldn’t make a difference.  There were some lines even he wouldn’t cross.  Knowing you wanted nothing to do with him, let alone his hands, made that one of them.

He often wondered why he even did this.  In these quiet moments, the memories haunted him in ways that had pain blossoming, gouging aching paths so deep within him he wasn’t sure it would ever reach bottom.  He recalled every detail about how the warmth of your body curled up against his when you slept, the way your scent would linger on his clothes when you got out of bed, how perfect you felt against him -- Father did he miss how you felt -- from the tips of your fingers to soft strands of hair, his hands shook with the need to touch you again.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.    

He would give up everything just to feel you, solid, beneath his hands again, to worship you until you called his name in ways that suggested you weren’t the only one being deified.   

He would sacrifice his grace if it meant he was even just allowed to hold you one more time, to feel your life force mingle with his.  To feel whole again.  Complete. 

The emptiness left behind by your bond was devouring him.  It gnawed along the edge of his existence, an ever hungry void that he couldn’t satiate no matter what he fed it.  What was really dismantling him, however, piece by jaded piece, was your indifference.  

He knew it wasn’t your fault.  Why would you love someone you couldn't remember?  How could you understand the depths of a connection when you had nothing with which to compare it?  It didn’t stop the slap to his face from stinging every time you were eager to run off on a new case.  

Sam was usually the one that tagged along to make sure someone had your back.  Dean, surprisingly enough, was the one staying behind and spearheading the ongoing search for a way to undo the magic.  He rarely left the bunker anymore unless it was with Cas to check out a potential lead on some lore.  

Gabriel expected the dedication from his younger sibling (he knew Cas had always been a favorite for a reason).  Dean, however, was a pleasant surprise considering the man had only ever tolerated him, though that was mainly because you threatened to leave if he didn’t.  Without your support, Gabe fully expected to find himself excommunicated from the bunker (and subsequently your life).   

Kill a man a few thousand times and suddenly he acted like Gabriel was always going to kill him (and everyone around them).  He figured he’d have to die, again, for Dean to finally move past that.  Apparently all it took was being ripped away from his soulmate.  

Then again, there might have been some bonding over both of their lingering daddy issues when Chuck disappeared without so much as a goodbye or a forwarding address for a second time.  At least Papa Winchester had taken the road of redemption and gone out saving his son’s soul.  Gabriel’s father?  Well, he wasn’t sure where in Creation Chuck was at the moment, but he had clearly shut his phone off when he and Auntie Amara had taken their little family vacation.   

Nothing short of this little fiasco would have had Gabriel even considering reaching out to the Almighty ass the universe had deemed worthy of being an all powerful Creator.  At least this time he knew better this time than to expect a response.  His father had walked out on everything, ignoring prayers and his sons for millennia.  There was no reason to believe he’d start listening now, least of all to the black sheep of the family.

When Gabriel caved and asked for help for the first time since he’d left home, it didn’t stop the silence from sounding that much more empty...

…the same way it did during these long nights.  

What kept him from slipping into dangerous waters was the very thing responsible for him nearly drifting away.  You couldn’t see him.  As long as he could spend this time with you, as long as he could close his eyes and pretend that the world had not given him the biggest middle finger in existence, he could convince himself he could make it through another day.  

When he was really lucky, he could convince himself that nothing had changed.  He could breathe in your scent and for a few minutes could hide within the reticence that only came under the cover of darkness.  Coming out of these moments, however, was the hardest.  

He never stayed the full night.  He could never stand to watch you go through a routine that no longer included him.  It was so different.  Foreign.  Almost clinical in how precise it had become.  Wake up, roll out of bed, shower, brush your teeth, get dressed, head to the kitchen.  All within the same amount of time it used to take for either of you to even contemplate getting out from beneath the covers.

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t remember how that first hour or so was reserved for only the two of you.  It wasn’t your fault you didn’t miss how he always started it with a kiss (that often led to other activities depending on where said affection was placed).  You hadn’t chosen to forget all the conversations you had about the past, about the future, about each other.  Yet, watching you go about your day without him was too much of a reminder that your world could go on just fine without him while his stood at a standstill.  

Often, he found himself perched on the roof of the bunker, waiting for the sun to creep over the horizon.  A new day could mean a new chance, to make this right, to even just find some small way to reconnect, but more often than not he found it just brought new opportunities for you to smack him in the face with just how little you wanted to do with him.  

Finding his soulmate had given him a spark of hope, a dangerous sentiment he had had avoided at all costs, and you had nurtured it into something bright and beautiful.  You helped him believe that as long as you both made it to the start of a new day together, everything would be fine and he remembered how excited he used to feel watching the sunrise.  Now all it brought was exhaustion and dread.  

It was always a tossup whether life would begin to stir outside the bunker walls before you did.  Today, the world rose first, the birds chirping their obnoxiously happy melodies before he picked up on the first whispers of your consciousness.  He tracked your presence through the bunker, waiting until you reached the neutral territory of the kitchen before snapping himself back inside.  

He found you glaring at the sink full of dirty dishes, hands slamming the cupboards in frustration as you searched for a clean cup.  The coffee maker gave a final slurping noise, signalling it had finished its brew.  This only seemed to feed your ire.

“Doesn’t anyone remember how to do the damn dishes around here?” You grumbled.  He snapped and a mug appeared on the counter in front of you.  You froze, your body going rigid as you just stared at the object as if it might try to go for your throat at any moment.

“Thanks, Gabriel,” you said stiffly.

He didn’t need to dip into your mind to know gratitude was not what you felt toward him at that moment.  

He didn’t know how to fix this.  He didn’t know how to make you comfortable again.  Sam, Dean, and Cas had all gone to bat for him, reassuring you he wasn’t some lecherous creeper stalking you at every turn.  Yet, you continued to be unsettled by the possibility he might be there.  Watching.  Waiting.  

Technically, he usually was, but not in the way you clearly imagined.

Unsure of how to proceed, he did the only thing he could think of.  He snapped up the breakfast he had made you, minus his mojo, the day he’d finally stopped being stubborn and admitted he loved you.  In his nervousness, he’d nearly botched the whole thing.   The pancakes had come out horribly disfigured.  The sausage had all come out charred on one side.  He’d completely forgotten that you were on a bacon and cinnamon waffles kick.  The eggs had been the only thing to come out fine, though he later learned you preferred them over easy with toast rather than scrambled (something he had remembered this time around).

His fingers slipped into his pocket, idly tracing over the pendant he had yet to give back to you.  As with anything he tried these days, all he could do was wait.  When he caught the disinterested look on your face, he decided it was a good idea to do it somewhere else before he blew the whole fuse box again.

***

There were rules for a reason.  Usually it was to keep people from doing stupid things like lying about angels being stuffed into their sibling’s body or thinking that hugely powerful removal spells targeting things like the Mark of Cain could be cast without cosmic consequences.  These days, however, it was mostly because you didn’t know what to do knowing there was likely an archangel watching your every move.   

You trusted your friends when they said Gabriel wasn’t something to worry about, but Dean and Cas were particularly persistent to the point it felt less like reassurance and more like they were hounding you.  Well, Dean was hounding, Cas was a little more tactful, but it was clear they sympathized more with the archangel than they did with you.  

Sam was the only one who listened when you said you were uneasy.  He had always been one of the few people, possibly the only person, you felt truly understood you.  He not only paid attention to what you said, but to the subtleties that whispered truths beneath your guarded or deflective actions.  His perception and his sympathetic personality made him able to see through your walls when others remained caught outside.

Having someone who knew you well enough to slip past your defenses without you even knowing was becoming a blessing.  There were times, however, where it could be dangerous.  More and more often, you noticed he seemed conflicted whenever the topic of Gabriel came up, as if suspecting there was more to your unease than you were letting on.  

His instincts were right.  Chuck willing, however, he and the rest of Team Free Will would never find out why.   

Which left you on your own when dealing with the staggering notion that an archangel, one of the most absolute and terrifying beings in existence, was your soulmate.

The term tugged at the back of your mind, skirting the fringe of your understanding, like an echo of a memory so distant it might as well have been from another lifetime.  Whenever you tried to reach for it, it skittered further away, leaving an inexplicable emptiness in its wake.  It tore through your very being, threatening to pull you into something dark, something infinite, and something completely beyond your understanding.  

It wasn’t the unknown that scared you so much as the nothingness that seemed to erode at the very edges of your existence every time that rift opened.

So you did your best to avoid it, which wasn’t hard.  There were no memories of this being, no lingering inklings of emotion.  You couldn’t even find a single photograph of him and you together.  If Cas hadn’t insisted it was true, you still wouldn’t believe it wasn’t just an elaborate joke Sam and Dean were trying to pull to get back at you for Florida.

Despite their assurance that Gabriel was not like his brothers, it didn’t make you feel any less on edge whenever you found yourself alone.  

Mornings always felt the most tense, though you weren’t certain why.  It might have been the fact it was hit or miss someone would be around to confirm whether or not you had extra company.  Cas seemed to be most in tune with this and often met you somewhere between your room and the kitchen.  Today, he was nowhere to be found, and you uncomfortably made your way through the halls.  

Your nervousness was overshadowed by frustration when you reached the kitchen and were reminded just how integral the angel was to other aspects of your life.

“Doesn’t anyone remember how to do the damn dishes around here?”  You muttered as you scoured the kitchen for something, anything to put your coffee in.  At this point, you’d drink it from a bowl if you had to, so long as you could drink it.  

You were going to have a long talk with your housemates about how being big, damn, world saving heroes, did not make them exempt from basic household responsibilities.  

Something appeared in your sidevision and when you found a clean cup waiting for you on the counter, you froze.  The flames of your anger became muted as shades from the past reverberated through your mind.  You did your best to push them back beneath the surface, but shadows were not things easily seized or caged.  To subdue them, you needed light, something that was becoming harder and harder to find.  

You did your best to stay tethered to logic.  It was just Gabriel’s way of telling you he was there.  He was trying to be helpful.  More importantly, he was solving your problem of being severely decaffeinated and more likely to commit homicide than actually wash anything.   

You managed to regain your footing and with it came your manners.  “Thanks, Gabriel.”

By the time you turned around, your favorite breakfast was waiting for you as well.  The eggs were a little off.  Over easy with toast was fine, but you would have preferred scrambled.  

Well, you would have if you were even hungry.  

Gabriel hadn’t been the only thing to disappear since the fight with Dagon.  Your appetite had made itself scarce and most days you needed reminders to even eat.  Sam was a better than Dean with these types of things, but it was really the archangel who made sure you didn't pass out from low blood sugar.

He may have also been trying to give you diabetes from all the sugar he tried to feed you, but that was besides the point.

“Thanks, but I'm not really hungry,” you told him.  You had intended to just grab some coffee before heading to the library.  Cas had left you an ancient druidic text on bonding magic and you wanted to at least get a chance to look at it before a new case cropped up.  Now you weren’t sure what to do.  It seemed a little rude to just leave, but it wasn't like you could do anything other than make one sided small talk, and even then, what the hell did one say to their former soulmate?    

“Wow,” Sam said as he strode through the doorway, brows raising as he took in the full table in front of him.  “Someone’s been busy.”

“Gabriel,” you told him.  

“Oh.  Right,” he realized, idly scratching at the back of his head as he caught the unspoken question in your gaze.  “He’s not here.”

His smile was sympathetic, and when you let out a sigh you hoped your relief at Gabriel’s absence was never palpable enough for the angel to notice.  Just because he was a complete stranger and put every nerve of yours on edge didn’t mean you didn’t feel something in regards to him.

Unfortunately, most days it just happened to be not a whole lot.  

You knew it was the magic.  Extremely harrowing experiences may have left you more closed off than the average hunter, but that only meant it took you longer to trust or to let someone into your life in any meaningful way.  It didn’t mean you stopped knowing how to empathize.  

Every now and then, Gabriel’s plight trailed along on the coattails of something that stirred that sentiment.  The emotion had to be burning particularly bright and vivid, but sometimes, if you caught it at just the right moment, the afterglow would spill over onto him and something would spark.  Only it was like trying to start a fire in the middle of a downpour that had been raging for biblical lengths of time.  Nothing dry remained for anything to catch, and those tiny embers faded just as quickly as they appeared.   

You kept reminding yourself how awful it would be, having everything that mattered ripped away from you in the blink of an eye.  

You had yet to find it made much of a difference.  

“Big plans today?”  Sam asked, idly grabbing a piece of fruit off the table on his way through and popping it into his mouth.

“Library.  Cas dropped off a book for me.”  You watched as he began the same hunt you had a few minutes before. “Nothing's clean, by the way.”

Your friend changed course, walking over to a cupboard attached to the ceiling on the opposite side of the room.  He reached inside, victory singing in the form of a sly smile as he found not only a mug but a plate and set of silverware as well.

This confirmed your suspicion the giant liked to stash things up there knowing you needed to put significantly more effort into reaching it than you ever deemed worth the task.

“If it's the one I’m thinking of, you’re going to want to bring the rest of this,” he told you, gesturing toward you with the coffee pot before he helped himself to some.  “Or maybe some moral support.  If Dean isn’t already there he should be soon.”

You could do without his brother nipping at your heels, for once.  

Something about that must have shown in your features as Sam paused, eyeing you as he hesitantly said, “You know, I noticed you and Dean have been butting heads lately…”

In your opinion, it had been less about the two of you knocking heads and more about what Dean’s head had started becoming.  

“It’s hard for him, I think,” Sam continued.  “He looks at you and Gabriel and sees the worst that could happen to him and Cas.”

“Yeah, well…” You paused, unsure of what to say.  You didn’t want to start an argument this early, or worse, have Dean walk in on you complaining to his brother.  Again.  

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assured.  “I just wanted to put it out there.”

Maybe you didn’t have to say anything, but you wanted to.  The more it felt like Dean was drifting away from you, the more you realized Sam had always been your constant.  His dependability, his diplomacy, but mostly his unwavering support solidified your trust in him when you felt everyone else was trying to back you into Gabriel’s corner 

Though you supposed the angel could use a few more friends than you right now.

“Gabriel needs someone to see him,” you acknowledged.  “But thanks for still seeing me.”

The sudden heart to heart had uncertainty bleeding through the appreciative look you gave him.  You weren’t good with these things and often avoided them.  Sam wasn’t expecting it either, his eyes dropping to the floor a moment before flashing back up to yours.

“Your welcome,” he says, warmth and reassurance tugging his lips up into a smile.  “You know, if Dean turns out to be too much, my door’s always open.”

You knew.  He had never offered before now, not explicitly, but he was the type of friend you went to when you needed to bury a body.  A real one, not just when you needed to clean up after a hunt.  

“Why?  Something wrong with the lock?” You jested, slipping back to the safe and comfortable confines of your humor. 

He was all too happy to join you back in charted territory.  “Yeah.  Tends to act up around smartasses.”

A playfulness danced across his features, brightening his gaze that often contained his own piece of darkness that spilled over into the present.  It eased some of the lines in his face, making him seem a little more vibrant and lively.  It was a look he wore well and one you found contagious.

“So, it’s permanently broken?” You teased in a familiar and friendly way that encroached but didn’t touch the borders of flirtation.  For once, the curve of your lips felt natural, right, like a piece of you was slipping back into place for the first time since you woke up in that hospital.

Sam’s eyes shifted somewhere above your head, landing over your shoulder near the doorway.  The light in his eyes flickered out and you didn’t need to look behind you to know what he saw.

“You know what else is broken?” Dean’s voice carried in from the hallway, his tall frame brushing past yours as he made his way toward the coffee pot. “Your cosmic connection, something that I’m sure carries with it some pretty cosmic consequences.”

Your smile fell, lips pulling thin as the weight fell back into place, nearly dragging you down to the floor with the weariness that swept in along with it.  You were so tired of being reminded that you needed to fix this, like it was somehow your fault everything happened.  No one seemed to remember that the reason you were in this mess to begin with was because you had saved Gabriel from a fate that, according to Cas, was likely worse than what was happening now.

You channeled your inner Dean, leveling the best bitch face you could muster, which wasn't hard given your continued lack of caffeination.

“What?” He demanded.

“Dude, come on, it’s barely past seven,” Sam jumped in, trying to defuse the situation.

“She doesn't need you to speak for her,” Dean reminded snidely as he began to make his way through the cabinets in search of something clean.  

“Maybe not, but she probably needs you to shut up until she’s at least had her coffee.”

The sass that snuck into Sam’s tone was surprising.  Then again, he had barely touched his own cup as well and the look Dean shot back suggested none of you were functioning well at the moment.  

“Watch it,” the older Winchester warned, pointing a finger at his brother's face before whirling around.  He stalked across the room, opening the cupboard his brother had already pilfered.  As he groped his way through the shelves, Sam’s eyes fell to yours once again where they lingered for a moment before he inclined his head toward the door.    

Whoever said chivalry was dead had clearly not met the youngest Winchester.

You pulled up the hem of your shirt as you began to back towards the hall, displaying the gun tucked at your side.  You gestured toward it, then back to him, offering it with a curious raise of your brow.  His lips twitched with amusement and he held up a finger for you to hold on a moment as you neared the doorway.  

“Hey Dean… North Dakota.”

Three things happened at once.  Dean froze.  Your eyes went wider than quarters.  Sam, on the other hand, merely winked in your direction.  

“How dare you,” Dean declared indignantly, turning around and dropping his hands to his hips.    Sam leaned against the counter, casually taking a sip of his coffee, looking as if he couldn't be happier watching the world burn beneath the blaze he just lit.

“How.  Dare.  You,” Dean repeated, an emotional, if not dramatic, undercurrent to his words that had his voice coming out softer though far mare intense.

“We going to make eyes at each other all day or are we going to do this?”  Sam goaded.

You stifled a laugh, hastily turning your back on what was undoubtedly about to become a murder scene.  You didn’t know many people that would take a bullet for you, let alone prime a nuke just to detonate it on themselves.  

You owed Sam big time.  

You smiled, the relief from knowing Dean would have someone else to focus on adding an extra spring to your step.  Your brain became abuzz, combing over the ideas on how you could make it up to your friend.  Maybe later, after you’d made some headway with that book, you could make him those brownies he liked so much.

You never felt a single atom in Gabriel’s being as you passed through where he stood in the doorway, though you weren’t the only one who couldn’t see him this time.  

GMC tags:  @lacqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun  @ashiewesker @revwinchester  

Everything tags: @girl-next-door-writes @wayward-mirage  @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met   @the-moose-of-baskerville @summer-binging-spn  @blondecoffeecake  @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely

Gabe Squad: @theblackenedsky, @bloodstained-porcelain-doll, @pepperwoodatnight @samikitten @ludwigs-a-monster @a-vast-african-plain

The Long Road Home tags:  @nervousdonutdragon @revwinchester @thewholetruthlikeitornot @cobrakai--1972

[taste-of-dean]

Warm Welcome

Summary: Y/N deals with Jared being away and Jared tries to help

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 947

Warnings: Daddy!Jared, Le Fluff

A/N: 1k Drabble Shenanigans! Prompt is bolded and requested by @sea040561 (who it wont let me tag). Thanks a bunch to my betas @impala-dreamer and @jpadjackles !!

MASTERLIST

Holding your sleeping daughter in your arms, you pulled up FaceTime and clicked your husband’s name. It was 8 am in Vancouver and you knew he would be on his way to the airport right now. The call barely had any time to ring before it started connecting to the video chat. You saw Jared’s face pop up and next to his was Jensen’s doing his weird cross-eyed thing.

A big smile grew on your face as you chuckled, seeing your family on the screen. “Hi babe, hi Jensen, and Cliff who I’m sure is driving the car,” you tried to say as loud as you could without waking your daughter.

Jensen shoved his face further into the picture, pushing Jared out of the way, “Show me that cute baby of yours, I can’t get enough of her.”

You turned the phone to Leighton’s face as Jared turned to Jensen saying, “You can’t get enough of her?! I think that’s suppose to be my line dude.”

“Well you may not be able to see her as much right now but at least you get to keep her. Danneel and I always have to give her back,” Jensen said with a pout.

“Well why don’t you and D start having your own babies?” you deadpanned.

Jensen grew quiet, growing a blush in his cheeks, trying to hide his smile, as Jared looked anywhere but the phone. “Jensen Ross! Is there something you need to tell me?!”

Jensen had a grin ear to ear, “I wasn't supposed to tell you! Danneel wanted to be the one to tell you, but yeah, we’re pregnant.”

Your heart swelled for your best friends, “I’m so happy for you guys!”

“If Danneel wasn’t up here right now she would have already told you,” Jensen said, rubbing the back of his neck, “OK after dropping that bomb I’m gonna give you two a minute alone since we’re a few minutes away from the airport.”

Jared quickly stuck his earbuds in so you two could have some sort of privacy. You took a deep breath in and smiled softly at your husband, “Hi.”

“Hi baby,” Jared said as his eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s wrong?”

You pursed your lips together, “Nothing, why would you think something’s wrong?

“You’re sad, don’t lie to me. You’re doing that pouty thing you do when you’re upset.”

“I just miss you and I wish you could come home.”

“I know baby, I’ll be home next weekend. There’s no con and I can spend as much time as I want with you and Leighton.”

“Yeah, it’s just hard to not be up there with you all the time.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to have to keep traveling with Leighton and be alone when I go away to cons for the weekend. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The boys were pulling up to the airport so you quickly said your goodbyes to all of them and Jared promised to call you when they landed.

---

You were sitting on the sofa, waiting for Jared’s call before you put Leighton down for a nap. She was playing on her mat, rubbing her eyes and yawning. You wanted her to stay awake so Jared could see her this time, but it was getting late and you didn’t want her to be overtired, lord knows no one like an overtired baby. You carried her up to her room and rocked her and sang to her for a bit before you placed her in her crib and headed back down stairs.

You plopped yourself back on the sofa, still waiting for Jared’s call that should have come by now. You turned the tv on to help keep yourself awake; getting up at 5am with a hungry baby called for taking a nap, but not until you talked to Jared. To no avail you fell asleep, waiting for a call that never came.

You woke up to a dip in the sofa, assuming your dog and jumped up to take a nap with you. But then you felt large hands brushing the hair out of your face and a pair of soft lips on your forehead. You turned to see your husband and a bouquet of flowers in his other hand.

You were at a loss for words, you just wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

When the kiss broke, Jared cleared his throat, “Wow if you're going to kiss me like that everytime I surprise you, I have to do this more often.”

You giggled, “I won’t say no to that! What are you doing home?”

“I just thought I’d stop by to see my two favorite girls.”

“Well one of your girls is due to wake up soon, we can get her up early if you want?”

“Nah, let her sleep. I want to spend some quality time with my wife,” Jared said as he leaned down to kiss you, pulling at the hem of your shirt.

It seems as though all kids have the perfect timing. Leightons cries started sounding through the monitor. Jared and you broke the kiss laughing, “You get the kid, I’ll go find some water for these bad boys,” you said, grabbing the flowers

“Ok,” you said as you turned toward the kitchen, when Jared grabbed your arm and twirled you into his chest, whispering in your ear, “We’ll finish this later.”

Those four words sent chills down your spine and all over your body as Jared bounced up the stairs with the world’s biggest smirk on his face, knowing exactly what he just did to you.

Forever Tags: @impala-dreamer @babypieandwhiskey @idreamofhazel @megansescape @pearlparty @atc74 @frenchybell @lucy-xoxoo @sing-me-hey-jude @kikiamr @frickin-bats @teepartyy @rosep16 @darkperfectionuniverse @wiinchesters-blog @youre-alive-and-thats-your-job @toxicobscenity @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder @tom-is-in-my-tardis @gemini75eeyore @youtubehelpsmesurvive @clemsonstatemom @assbutt-fan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @jayankles @padackles2010 @highonpastries @jensen-gal @alcpegasus22 @thehunterismine @petrovadixon @ourfaterestswithyou @joanne-thefangirl @likesiriusly @ourfaterestswithyou @jpadjackles @amanda-teaches @aubreyreadsstuff @captainemwinchester

Pond/Mrs Who Tag List (there are probably doubles so my bad): @manawhaat  @samsgoddess @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @writingbeautifulmen @supernatural-jackles @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @hexparker @drarina1737 @ruined-by-destiel @chelsea-winchester @deals-with-demons  @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @waywardjoy @for-the-love-of-dean @for-the-love-of-dean @deandoesthingstome @curliesallovertheplace @captain-princess-rose @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @theficlibrarium @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @growleytria  @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999  @samanddeanwinchester67  @myfand0msandm0re  @fangirling-instead-of-working @for-the-love-of-dean @sleep-silent-angel @curliesallovertheplace​ @skybinx-blog  @feelmyroarrrr @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @katnharper @sams-little-toy @castiels-forbidden-angel @sunriserose1023 @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @chelsea-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish 

[revwinchester]

Birthday Blues

Summary: Sam takes care of the reader after a hunt keeps them apart on his birthday.

Pairing/Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1446

Warnings: Cursing, brief mention of sexy times (no smut, though), super stressed out reader, maybe angst?

A/N: I was traveling all day on May 2 and finally just got the time and energy to write something for Sam’s birthday… better late than never!  There’s a perfectly good reason in the fic for why it’s late.

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

Birthday Blues - 

“Shit,” you murmured, looking at the clock on your dashboard.  You had all but promised that you would make it home two days ago but you case had taken much longer than you had expected and your phone had gotten broken early in the chase.  “Fucking harpies.”  You hit a bump and winced, cursing the terrible shocks and slow acceleration of your minivan, along with the creatures you had just been dealing with.  

You had been packed for a hunt with your boyfriend Sam and his brother when an old friend had called looking for help with her own case a few states over.  Sam and Dean had assured you they’d be alright without you so you’d hopped in your minivan, Dean scoffing at the car yet again, and drove off.  

Your friend’s case had turned out to be harpies and you had learned just how bitchy they were.  Winged creatures were officially the worst, Castiel aside, and you would think twice before getting yourself play bait for one again.  The harpie had picked you up and flown off into the air before your friend could fire off a shot, wounding the creature and causing it to drop you.  That was the first time, but not the last, that one of the harpies had try to fly off with you and when your phone had shattered.  You had ignored the pain as best as you could as you and Kat regrouped and came up with a new plan.  The next day, you were staking out the harpies again and you had both spent the night in the car before finally getting another crack at the beasts.  You had resolved to keep both feet firmly planted on the ground during this fight but the harpies had a different idea and you once again found yourself falling from at least a dozen feet up.  Now that the adrenaline of the hunt had worn off, you were realizing that your phone might not have been the only thing to suffer significant damage.

You drove as fast as you could.  You had already missed Sam’s birthday and hadn’t been able to call; you didn’t want to miss anymore time with him.  

A few hours later, you pulled into the bunker’s garage, parking next to Dean’s Impala.  You gingerly climbed out of your car, deciding to leave your bag in the back seat for now.  You walked into the bunker or, limped, really, and made your way towards the bedroom you shared with Sam.  You weren’t sure where you’d find him so that was as good a place as any to start.  However, before you could make it even five steps toward your bedroom, you heard someone bounding toward you.  

You turned just in time to see a frantic Sam running in your direction.  He pulled you into his arms, lifting you off your feet.  “Thank God,” Sam whispered but you could barely hear him over the yelp of pain you let out as he squeezed you.

Sam put you down immediately and took in your appearance.  “What happened?” he asked.  “I was so worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry.  My phone got busted on the case so I couldn’t call,” you explained, “but I’m ok.”

Sam gave you a once over before replying.  “Yeah, that’s definitely not true.  You look like you got thrown out of a window or something.”  Sam carefully brushed a lock of hair from your face as you huffed a humorless laugh.  “Let’s get you patched up,” your boyfriend suggested as he started off down the hallway towards the library and a first aid kit.

You followed him as well as you could but it was hard enough to keep up with Sam’s long legs when you were feeling your best.  You had only taken a handful of painful steps by the time Sam had made it down the long hall.  He had turned, expecting you to be right behind him.  When you weren’t, he fixed you with the most pitying stare you had ever seen.  Sam strode back toward you and gently scooped you into his arms.

“What happened?” he asked as he carried you, making you realize you hadn’t answered that question when he asked the first time around.

“Harpies,” you explained.  “Kat had a plan that, in hindsight, was extremely dumb but seemed good at the time.”  Breathing even hurt so your speech was slow and by the time you had said that, Sam had made it to the library and gingerly seated you on the edge of one of the tables.  He started cutting off your shirt and you thought to complain.  You had liked this shirt but, then again, it was bloodstained and caked with muck and, even better, you wouldn’t have to move while Sam worked on taking off your shirt.

“One of them grabbed me and flew off,” you told your boyfriend, trying to sound nonchalant, “or, tried to, I should say.  Kat fired off a shot and the thing dripped me but I was already a solid twelve feet up or so.  Then, it, um… might have happened again a few days later.  Different harpie that time.”

By now, Sam had gotten your shirt off and started to poke and prod at you as gently as you could but you still let out a loud hiss of pain as he found a particularly sensitive spot.  “That would explain a lot, you’ve got at least a couple of bruised ribs and I think you’ve sprained your ankle,” he said, taking an ace bandage from the first aid kit to wrap snugly around your right ankle.  

You watched Sam work, his hands moving gently but deftly around your body.  Sam was so tough on hunts and he like to be rough in the bedroom but he was still the softest, sweetest man you had ever met.  You had no idea what you had done to deserve a man like Sam.  Your thoughts continued in this direction as he continued to work on you, deciding that your right knee also needed a wrap before he moved up your body to work on your ribs.  Sam was kind and loving, loyal and intelligent, and the most empathetic man you had ever encountered.  Not to mention how downright sexy he was.

Sam’s eyes finally found yours and his face fell.  “Y/N, what’s wrong?”  His voice was distraught and it almost made your heart burst.

“N-nothing,” you told him, legitimately confused by his shift in mood and his question.

“Y/N, love, you’re crying,” Sam shared, wiping away one of your tears.  “Is the wrap on your ribs too tight?” he asked, flying into problem solving mode.

Your hand flew to your face.  You were crying.  You grabbed Sam’s hands as a fresh wave of tears fell from your eyes.  “N-no,” you assured your boyfriend.

His eyes moved back to your face as you continued speaking.

“I… I missed your bir- your birthday,” you managed.  The stress of the past few days had finally caught up with you.  You were in pain and exhausted and could finally let your guard down after being run through the wringer on your hunt.

“It’s alright,” Sam assured you but you wouldn’t hear it.

“No it’s n-not!” you sobbed, “I was supposed to- to be back, to be h-here with you, but I missed it!” You shook your head back and forth to emphasize your point.

Sam caught your face in his giant, warm hands and held you still.  “Y/N,” his eyes found yours and his thumbs brushed away more tears.  “Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath, love.”

You did what Sam asked.

“Good, thank you,” he said as you started to calm down a little.  “Y/N, I really don’t care that you weren’t here on Tuesday,” Sam reassured you.  “I’m just so happy to have you back safe and mostly sound.”

You didn’t reply.  You were still fighting off another onslaught of tears that this gorgeous man was unknowingly provoking.  You sniffed and nodded, hoping your eyes would convey everything you were feeling for Sam in that moment: your love and amazement that he was yours along with an apology that you knew he didn’t need but you couldn’t help but give, anyway.

“How about this,” Sam began.  “Let’s go take a nap and, though I swear to you I’m not mad you missed my birthday, you can make it up to me later.  Once you’re feeling better.”

You nodded at your boyfriend again, still not trusting your voice.  Sam lifted you from the table and carried you to your bedroom.

If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please send me an ask and let me know :)

ALL THE TAGS (forevers)!: @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith

Mooselings: @jared-padaloveme

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[notnaturalanahi]

Unexpected Love Encounter

Pairing/Characters: Dean x Reader

Word count: 992

Warnings: Idk, language? Fluff 

A/N: I’m here to present you with some some Dean fluff while I attempt to write some filtly smut (Sam x Reader x Benny... Senny? x Reader). I remember  someone whispering that to me when I signed up for this one challenge @impala-dreamer do you remember?

[Feedback is love!!] 

Unexpected Love Encounter

You watch him open the refrigerator door for the third time in ten minutes and sigh. "Haven't you figured out that there's no food in there yet?" You say with an ironic tone without taking your eyes from the laptop screen.

"There's not even beer" Dean walks over to the kitchen table, stomping his barefeet of the marble floor.

"I told you guys we needed to get groceries yesterday!"You sass looking up so you can stare at him.

"Itoldyouguysweneededtogetgroceriesyesterday" Dean repeats on a high pitch voice mocking you.

With a roll of your eyes you close the laptop. "Gimme your keys I need to take a break anyway, I'll go to the grocery store" You extended your hand.

"No way in hell Y/N! The last time you took my baby you scratched her!" He folds his big arms into his broad chest.

"I told you it wasn't my fault; the parking space was too tight because of the asshole that parked next to me! And that was like forever ago, you need let it go, Elsa!"

“It was four days ago.” Dean glares.

“Oh my god! You’re so obsessed with your car you keep count?” You finish with a little laugh, and he gives you a stern look.

"Ok, then come with me, you drive. Hm?"

"Umm Ok, let me get my shoes."

"Awesomeeee!”

On your way to town, you turn on the radio and sang along with some tunes, Dean smiles at the fact that you cannot sing but you do it anyhow. When you park on the store lot you slide the sunshade down to look yourself in the little mirror, taking and eyeliner and a matte lipstick to retouch your makeup from your little purse.

"Really, you’re putting on makeup, now?" Dean whines and keep the door open but doesn’t get out of the car just yet.

"What? You never know when you are gonna bump into the arms of a hot guy and end up in an unexpected love encounter .” You wink at him, “you're so lucky you don't need makeup, you’re gorgeous!" and stretch your hand to pinch his cheek.

He waves your hand off. "You don't need makeup either, you know?”

You stare at him for a moment too long. "Pff yeah right!"

"Seriously!” Dean says as you both climb out of the car and slams his hand on baby’s roof, not to hard, but enough to let you wonder, ‘what the hell?”

"Um.. Yeah.. Right" You say again, sarcastically.

In the store you grab a basket and start walking up and down the aisles, taking almost everything you need. "OK, I'm going this way” You point over your shoulder with your thumb. “We can meet up the register line"

"What? Why? I have nothing to do, I'll go with you."

“Sure?” You sigh "Look, I have to pick up tampons"

"Oooh, and you don't want me to... see them?" Dean shrugs.

"I actually don't really mind, I-I thought maybe, I don’t know... you may get uncomfortable. You know, like most guys?"

"Nah, most guys are morons anyway. So, let's go" He nudges you with his shoulder making you stumble a bit.

"Umm what are these?" You look at him just as you find your brand, Dean’s holding a bag of maxi pads. While trying to control your laugh you explain him what they are, and then answer some other question he had about feminine products.

You reach the register and place the items for the clerk to scan them, the cashier guy starts flirting a bit with you, making you blush. Dean glowers at him.

“Um.. Its $67.31” The guy says a bit timid.

“Pay up!" You instruct Dean.

“What?”

“Yeas...Slide your credit card through that thingy so we can take the stuff home and stuff our faces” you say slowly making a hand movement so he can understand.

Dean takes his wallet out of his back pocket and hands in the card eyeing you suspiciously. "What happened to your card?”

"What card?"

"The one I help you pay last month?"

"Ooh you mean that card…” You chuckle and roll your eyes. “I over charged it" you confess almost whispering.

"Already Y/N seriously!?" You don't say anything and then walked out of the store.

You’re avoiding eye contact at all cost, knowing he’s gonna lecture you the moment his green perfect eyes meet yours. A you place the bags on the trunk you share the smallest glance and that’s it.

"What do you always do that?" He asks, and doesn’t sound mad at all.

"Do what?"

"Buy stuff you don't really need and end up borrowing money from me or Sam?"

"But I-I need those clothes and makeup and shoes... To-to look pretty" you say biting the inside of your cheek looking down at your new black oxfords, embarrassed because they costed a fortune.

"You are pretty" You frown at his words.

"No I'm not. Not naturally at least" You shrug.

"Damn it Y/N!!" Dean raises his voice and you can feel the anger in it. He walks towards you pinning you against the back door.

You look at his arms at both sides of your head and then up at him with a questioning look.. "You are pretty, you are beautiful!! I never met anyone more beautiful than you…” He admits with a sigh “Your face, your hair, your body, your personality… your brains… All of you. You are perfect, Y/N! Why can’t you see that?"  

Your eyes widen, dumbfounded, mouth agape, and before you can even think of an answer he ducks his face down and press his lips to yours, It’s a hard, desperate and passionate kiss, and without knowing it you’re kissing him back.

You finally let go, and part the kiss but not before your lungs burn for air.  

“You are the most beautiful person I ever met Y/N. I love you.”

Forevs: @nadiandreu7 @captain-princess-rose @loveitsallineed @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @deathtonormalcy56 @death2thevirgin @mogaruke @isis278 @marygracewinchester @lbug1025 @babypieandwhiskey @impala-dreamer @authoressskr @fangirl1802 @ria132love 

Dean/Jensen: @anokhi07 @leather-moccasin-hero @hunterintraining1967 

Pond (Dean-Fluff): @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat   @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid  @bkwrm523 @salvachester @whispersandwhiskerburn @lipstickandwhiskey @roxy-davenport @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @frenchybell  @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @cici0507 @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis  @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles  @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @jpadjackles @quiddy-writes @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda  @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen  @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @inmysparetime0 @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean If you don’t want me to tag you anymore just say the word