#so cas stays out of guilt and sam confides in him more and more about his insecurties and his demon-ness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wilbur-rabbit · 3 years

Text

We are Soulmates - Sam, Dean and Cas' POV

Criminal Minds / Supernatural Crossover

Summary: When you get arrested by the FBI Sam, Dean and Cas do everything they can to get you back.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Aaron isn't in this chapter)

Word Count: 2294

Chapter 1

Warnings: cursing

A/N: This is a short story based on 'We are Soulmates' that goes through what happened in the first chapter from Sam, Dean and Cas' point of view. I recommend reading chapter one first. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Sam and Dean had stayed behind when Y/N had decided to follow Krissy and her friends to kill the vampire. Neither of them was particularly fond of the idea of you going off on your own but you insisted that you had it. Even after all these years they still felt protective over you.

Several hours later, Sam and Dean had gotten nowhere with the foster dad. They felt in their guts that something was off about him, but they didn’t know what. Both ready to call it a night, Dean got out his cell phone prepared to call Y/N to see how things were going with Krissy, when suddenly Krissy and her friends’, Josephine and Aiden, barge through the front door. The three of them talking at once, making it impossible to decipher what they were saying.

“Okay!” Dean yelled out. “One at a time, Krissy what is going on?”

Krissy took two heavy breaths before launching into the events that occurred after they found the vampire. How Y/N had found them in the barn right after Krissy had killed the vamp that had murdered her father, to them hearing several cars pulling up and Y/N telling them to go and get the Winchester’s. When Sam and Dean heard that Krissy had seen agents with FBI vests on when they had run out of the barn, dread settled into their chests.

Right after Krissy finished her story and Sam and Dean had gotten all that they could out of them, they left heading back to their motel room to try and come up with a plan.

The impala was quiet, both brothers thinking of ways to fix the mess they have found themselves in. Dean was the first to break the silence.

“How did this even happen?” he asked his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It’s our job to protect her. We shouldn’t have let her go off on her own.”

Sam glanced over at his brother. As soon as they had heard what happened to Y/N, he knew Dean would blame himself. It didn’t matter how many times you had gone off on your own on a hunt and been fine. They couldn’t have known this one would be different.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sam reassured. “She’s been in worse situations before. She can handle this.”

Dean slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, “She’s never been arrested by the fucking FBI! They found her standing over a decapitated corpse. They aren’t going to just let her go.”

They had just pulled into the parking lot of their motel and Sam waited until they parked before he responded, wanting to give Dean a moment to calm down.

“I understand that she hasn’t dealt with this before,” Sam said in the reassuring voice he always used with people when he wanted them to stay calm. Dean looked over and glared at him picking up on his tone, which caused Sam to sigh. “Okay, look, I know this is a fucked-up situation Dean, but we will get her out of it,” Sam said. “We need to call Cas and let him know what he is going on. We could use his help. Then I think we should head back to the bunker.”

“You want to leave her here?” Dean said incredulously.

Sam rolled his eyes, “I have an idea that might work, but we are going to need Cas and ingredients that we have in the bunker to do it.”

Dean sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine. I’ll call Cas. You grab our stuff so we can check out and leave.”

As Sam was packing up the car Dean stood a few paces away waiting for Cas to pick up the phone. They hadn’t talked in a while and Dean felt bad that he was only contacting him because something was wrong. Communication was something he need to work on.

“Hello, Dean,” came Cas’ deep voice through the phone.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replied. “How have you been?” Dean didn’t want to automatically start off with the bad news, plus he genuinely wanted to know how Cas was doing.

“I’ve been good. I just finished a hunt in Nebraska,” Cas said. “Vengeful spirit. I’m heading back to the bunker now. How are you, Dean?”

Dean wanted to ask how the hunt had gone and why Cas didn’t just come along with them if he planned on hunting, but he stopped himself. Their current predicament was more important.

“I’ve been better,” Dean said with a sigh. “Actually, that is why I called. Y/N was arrested by the FBI.” His hand that wasn’t holding the phone rested on his hip as he looked to the ground. “Sam has an idea on how to get her out, but he says we need to go back to the bunker and that we will need your help.”

Cas is silent for a moment surprised at the turn of events. “Of course. Whatever I can do to help,” he said.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean replied happy to have Cas’ help, even though he had known Cas would be on board as soon as he knew Y/N was in trouble. “We are currently in Bloomington, Indiana, but we are getting ready to head that way.”

“Okay, good. I will see you at the bunker,” Cas said.

“Sounds good. We will call if we get an update,” Dean responded. “Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

As they started their drive back to the bunker Sam explained his plan.

“Archangel grace can be used to jump dimensions, right?” Sam asked even though he and Dean both knew that was true. Dean nodded anyway. “So, what I was thinking is that we, in theory, should be able to use Cas’ grace to open up a portal to where Y/N is. We can go through, grab Y/N and bring her back.”

“Do you even know if that will work?” Dean questioned, glancing at Sam.

“Well,” Sam started. “No, not exactly.”

“So, we have a half-assed plan that we don’t even know is going to work and is taking us farther away from where Y/N is currently locked up?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“I don’t see you coming up with anything,” Sam said, his voice rising.

“Yeah, cause you said you had a plan–,” Dean is interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Hello?” he barked not even looking at the caller ID.

“Dean,” you breathed on the other line and Dean was so relieved to hear your voice. “Where the hell are you?” he knew he shouldn’t let the panic into his voice so you would stay calm, but he couldn’t help it.

“Is that Y/N?” Sam asked. Dean nodded before taking the phone from his ear and putting it on speaker.

“I’m at the police precinct,” you said relieving both men. They hadn’t voiced it, but they had both been afraid they would move you to somewhere with higher security, especially if the feds found out that you were involved with them. They hoped for your sake it didn’t come to that.

“We know what happened and we are so sorry. We should have gone with you. We are going to find a way to get you out. We aren’t sure how, but we will. Oh, and Sam is here too.” Dean said having to get some of the guilt off his chest. Obviously, he knew that Sam had a plan but given the fact that they had no idea if it would even work, he didn’t want to give you false hope. Plus, if their call were being monitored it would be better if the feds didn’t hear what they were planning. Not that they would necessarily believe it.

“Hey Y/N/N. How are you holding up?” Sam asked.

“Hey Sammy. I’ve been better.” You chuckled, but there was no humor to your voice. “It’s bad. I don’t know if I’m going to get out of this one.”

Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened and Sam squeezed his eyes shut. They could both hear the fear in your voice, and they hated that they couldn’t do anything but reassure you that it would be okay.

“Hey, none of that. We’ve been in situations worse than this. We will find something. You just need to hang in there. Don’t admit to anything,” Sam said. Dean glanced over and saw the determination on his face. The look made him feel more confident that they would be able to get you home.

“Okay. Yeah, I won’t.” you responded, and they could hear the hope that Sam words had given you.

“I got a hold of Cas earlier,” Dean said. “He is heading this way too.”

“Good. I’m glad he will be back with us,” You said.

“It’s going to be okay. We will figure something out.” Dean repeated.

“I know. I trust you guys. It’s just…” You paused. Sam and Dean waited for you to continue, but when you didn’t, Dean reassured you again.

“We know. We’ve been there.” Dean said.

You were still quiet and the brothers glanced at each other, wondering what was happening on the other side of the call.

“Should I ask for a lawyer?” you questioned suddenly.

Dean turned to Sam, “Well, should she Sammy?”

Sam gave his brother a glare at the nickname, making Dean roll his eyes. Apparently, it was only okay if you called him that.

“It would probably be better if you did. We have had them in the past. That way they can’t try and pull a fake confession out of you,” Sam advised.

“Maybe I should just tell the truth,” You replied. Both of the brothers’ eyes widened, surprised that you would want to tell the FBI about the supernatural.

“That is always a tight rope to walk,” Dean cautioned.

“Yeah, you should really think about that before you do,” Sam added.

“You might be right,” you said, but you sounded slightly dazed and distracted. “I have to go. They are wanting me to get off the phone.”

“Okay. Just be careful. We’ll figure this out.” Dean said.

“I know you will. I–I love you guys.”

Hearing you say those words softened the two men that thought of you as a sister. That wasn’t a word the three of you, or even four counting Cas, used that often and at hearing you say it in a stressful time like this, like you weren’t sure when you would see them again, made the brothers realize that they need to say it more.

“We love you too, Y/N.” Sam said softly.

“Yeah, we do,” Dean confirmed.

With a quiet goodbye you hung up the phone.

Once Sam and Dean got back to the bunker, they saw Cas’ ’78 Lincoln Continental parked in the garage. Dean was relieved to see it no matter how much he hated the car. The boys grabbed their duffels and headed into the bunker. Cas was sitting in the library, several books laid out on the table as he searched through them.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, setting his bag down on the side of table not covered in books. Cas looked up at the two men.

“Hello, Dean. Sam.” Cas replied. “I’ve been searching, trying to find something that can help us, but I have not been particularly successful.”

Dean pulled out a chair that was across from Cas. “Well, that’s okay,” he said sitting down in the chair. “Sam has a plan.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.

Sam rolled his eyes, pulling out the chair next to Dean’s. “My theory is that if we can use archangel grace to jump between dimensions, we can use angel grace to teleport to other places here on Earth.” Sam told Cas.

Cas squinted his eyes and tilled his head. “In theory that could work.” He said, causing Dean to grunt. “I have never tried it, though. Not long ago I wouldn’t have needed a teleporting spell to go anywhere in the world.”

Dean sighed; his head tilted back so he was facing the ceiling. “Okay,” he said, looking to Sam and Cas. “If we do this and it does work, I’m going.”

“No, you’re not.” Cas said. “Y/N is with the FBI, who you have been on the wanted by for years and still would be if they didn’t think you were dead. I’m going”

Dean sighed, knowing he was right as much as he hated it. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

The three of them went to work finding the ingredients to the original spell. A pile of bones, dried herbs, cuts of wood fungus, and a pinch of dark powder, were all found in the storage room of the bunker. They added in a lock of Y/N’s hair that Dean grabbed from your hairbrush, so they could direct the spell toward your location.

After having everything assembled it was time for the final ingredient. Cas took the knife that Dean held out to him. He brought the knife across is neck letting some of his grace flow out into the small glass bottle that Dean held up to him. After the glass was filled, Cas brought his hand to his throat, healing the wound with a glow of light from his palm.

Dean took the bottle and pored it over the bowl that held the other ingredients. As he poured the grace into the bowl Sam chanted in Enochian.

“Mah ray, fah doh, em lah. Kah day, em lah. Kah day, em lah!”

There was a flash of light, before the portal formed in the room. A crack glowing a dark gold. Cas looked to Sam and Dean for a moment before he walked through the portal, disappearing from the brothers’ view. Now all they could do is wait.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #criminal minds fanfic #supernatural fanfic #castiel

173 notes · View notes

autisticandroids · 4 years

Note

hey so you know how you said a while back that cas doesnt really have a moc/demon dean or soulless Sam equivalent but if he did he would act the same bc hes horny and loves dean?? I agree and he would just do it WAY more unabashedly. my question is, in the version of spn where the writers are smarter AND more homophobic, how would they justify cas's actions? bc they cant use the cloak of humanity bc cas doesnt give a FUCK about humanity. so what would they do

okay the thing is that cas doesn't have a demon dean/soulless sam style arc because it wouldn't... do anything? the thing about cas is that he doesn't have inhibitions in the traditional sense. like he doesn't... feel the eyes of god or society watching him.

i had a long conversation with @pietacastiel the other day about whether cas has the capacity for "should" - and he really just... doesn't. there are two things that stand in for "should" for cas - one, "if i do this, [insert other person (usually dean but not always)] will like me," and two, "[insert person who i trust and obey] has told me to do this, and i will obey their command blindly because i am a good boy."

like, basically, number one is an essentially machiavellian calculation. he's trying to be someone that other people want around, so he makes himself useful to them or enjoyable to be around or likeable or what have you. it's entirely self-serving and probably wouldn't change if you took away his inhibitions or his empathy or his conscience or whatever.

number two is like... it's too intellectual to count as inhibitions, exactly - it's explicit rules that he has set down for himself, without internalizing. to give an example, cas knows that he's not supposed to watch porn in a room full of dudes, and he's not supposed to talk about it, but he will never understand WHY those things are true. he will just obey those commands.

in terms of other ethical behavior that cas demonstrates... the thing about cas is that he's just a nice person? he's highly empathetic, he likes to make other people happy, he likes to be friends, he's a sweetheart. he genuinely wants the best for people. he particularly wants the best for his nearest and dearest. this is what's going on when he heals babies, or decides that he's not gonna kill kelly, or sacrifices his life for dean. he is fundamentally doing what he wants. he wants dean to be alive more than he wants to not be dead, you know?

this is actually one of the things that makes cas so dangerous: empathy is fickle. if the only thing that's standing between you and murdering somebody is you liking that somebody and wanting to be their friend, you might murder them once they piss you off. or once something comes up that makes them being dead more valuable to you than you being their friend. and this is why cas is kind of a terrible person! this is why he's constantly doing war crimes. he doesn't really have a system of ethics.

now, here's the thing: cas does carry around a lot of guilt, but it's deeply ineffectual. it doesn't really change his behavior towards other people. it only really does two things: first of all, it convinces him that other people hate him and don't want him around. this intensifies his desperate need to be liked, and therefore his trying to be liked, but isn't the root of it. second of all, it makes him punish himself, stuff like trying to stay in purgatory.

now, if we did a demon dean/soulless sam situation on cas... what would that look like?

well, he would certainly lose all that guilt he's carrying around, but how would that affect his behavior? the main two effects, i think, would be to make him more confident and therefore bolder in terms of trying to be liked, and make him stop punishing himself/deciding that he deserves bad things.

the confidence boost might lead to him, say, throwing himself at dean a bit more than he does, but i don't think the change would be radical. i think it would just be kicked up a notch. but it's an issue of rational judgement more than inhibitions so i think he would stay basically the same. now, cas' judgement isn't the best, and in the context of relationships at least, if nowhere else, his guilt complex does semi-effectively combat his natural tendency towards total overconfidence, so it might have some serious effect, but i still argue it's rather a matter of degrees.

and him not punishing himself so much might lead to him doing things like getting more mad when dean treats him poorly, but not that much more, because fundamentally the reason cas doesn't get mad when dean treats him badly isn't because he thinks he deserves it - he does think that, but mostly he's just scared that if he gets mad or sets boundaries dean won't like him anymore. again, it's a matter of judgement. he's probably less scared that dean won't like him anymore if he sets boundaries because the elimination of the guilt complex makes him less convinced that everyone hates him, but the anxiety is still there - it's just less intense.

in terms of cas' other sources of ethics and inhibitions - wanting to be liked, obedience, empathy - these would be affected differently if he was like soulless sam and if he was like demon dean.

if cas lost his inhibitions the way soulless sam did... he wouldn't change that much, at least in terms of his personal relationships. he would lose his capacity for empathy, which means that he would be more likely to be a dick to randos on the street, or commit war crimes, but it wouldn't really change how he conducts his relationships, because the inhibitions he holds in relationships are intellectual, they're a matter of judgement anyhow. honestly i think he might still, for example, happily die for dean, if we're arguing that soullessness comes from a lack of empathy or conscience rather than a lack of all emotion, because his desire for dean to be alive is entirely selfish. he likes the world more with dean in it and that's that. so i think soulless cas would be more likely to be a dick behind the scenes - maybe pull some godstiel arc ass shit again - but it wouldn't necessarily change his treatment of those closest to him that much.

now, a demon dean style loss of inhibitions would look different, because demon dean's basic emotions weren't dampened - he was made more selfish and hedonistic and rebellious, and didn't care about other people. interestingly, demon dean didn't seem to lose his capacity for empathy - remember in black when he punched that guy who was abusive to that girl? he didn't do that because it was the right thing to do - he did it because it felt good, because he empathized with her situation and it gave him a rush to get her out of it. so a demonized cas' empathy is intact. but his "shoulds" - those are all out of whack. he's actively rebelling against them. obviously he would simply no longer obey the ones that are like, "follow this rule and you will never know why." but he would also stop trying to be liked. i think demon cas might in fact tell dean that he's been in love with him for years - while screaming an itemized list of every fucked up thing dean has ever done to cas in his face, and telling him to never speak to him again. hell, we've seen cas throw a temper tantrum like this before - "you're not my family, dean, i have no family" in the man who knew to much. demon cas would be like that except without it then causing him to have an immediate mental breakdown.

i would argue, however, that cas has had his own loss of inhibitions comparable to demon dean and soulless sam - crazy cas. it even follows the alliteration pattern, heh. this is because cas' inhibitions are far more in his brain than his heart, and to get rid of them you need to impair his judgement, not fuck with his feelings. like, his shoulds are entirely intellectual. i want to be liked, therefore i should do this, which will effectively cause other people to like me. i want to be a good boy for god/dean, therefore i will obey this rule they gave me. if you fuck with cas' judgement, you fuck with those inhibitions. so arguably crazy cas is cas' equivalent to demon dean and soulless sam.

anyway, to answer your question, i feel like soulless cas wouldn't necessarily need a cover, like, he might, oh, i don't know, covertly arrange more opportunities to be alone with dean or stuff like that, but he's not going to try and sleep with him because he still has most of his inhibitions in tact. demon cas they might have to admit is in love with dean and then kill, because i think demon cas would probably kiss dean and then punch him and leave. you know. and crazy cas we saw in canon.

#spn #asks #anonymous

87 notes · View notes

geeks-universe · 4 years

Text

& To All a Goodnight.

Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: For requests could you do a dean x reader where they spend Christmas together and it's a lot of fluff?😳😳

Requested by: Anonymous

Holidays were never really celebrated at the bunker.

If you were being honest, most of the time you weren’t even sure what day it was, let alone preparing for festivities regarding some day that was probably tied to some horrible historical event.

But, if you were being more honest, you really did love Christmas.

It wasn’t so much the religious connotations- which had grown considerably more complicated when you considered your relationship with angels- but more so the idea of holiday cheer, and an unexplainable magic in the air. As a kid, you had loved Christmas. You celebrated from the beginning of November, right up until the day itself, baking cookies, watching cheesy holiday movies, and decorating every square inch of the house.

After losing your parents, and the subsequent descent into the life of a hunter, you hadn’t really been able to celebrate. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, though it was considerably a difficult time for the first couple years, but you hadn’t had a chance. You were constantly on the go. The closest thing to a home you had was the warm embrace of Dean Winchester and the backseat of the Impala, which Sam had argued he was too big for. (He was, but you liked sitting shotgun.)

With the bunker though, you had an opportunity to celebrate like you hadn’t in years.

And you did.

Sam and Dean had left for the week. Well, five days maximum, if Dean were to be trusted, but you knew him well enough to know that meant seven days minimum. You had cracked a couple of ribs on the last hunt, and with Castiel MIA, you were stuck healing the old-fashioned way.

Never one to be cooped up for an excessive amount of time, you had gone all out with the decorations. Every room had an overwhelming amount of Christmas cheer, save Dean and Sam’s room.

And the tree!

Oh my goodness, the tree!

You had gone out and got a fresh tree, straight from a Christmas tree farm. Red and gold adorned the green needles, creating a homey atmosphere among the living room typically used to unwind after rough cases. You decided on a star to put atop the tree, as opposed to an angel. (It was bad enough you had them popping up in real time, you didn’t want them to ruin the Christmas cheer.)

You hadn’t stopped there, either. You bought and wrapped both Sam and Dean enough gifts to fill out the empty base of the tree. Dean had confided in you once that he couldn’t even remember what a normal Christmas was like, so you were determined to give the boys the best one yet.

And, when four whole days had passed of decorating, you moved onto baking. Chocolates, cookies, pies- you name it. You had gone slightly overboard, but the boys still weren’t back yet, and Christmas was slowly creeping closer.

Would they be back in time?

You certainly hoped so. They hadn’t given you an update in nearly a full day, but you had a 48 hour rule- 48 hours before any of you unleashed hell upon whatever case the one who hadn’t contacted was working on.

Though, after putting away all of the goodies, you’d snuggled up on the couch and put on a cheesy, and wholly predictable, Christmas romantic comedy while waiting for your boys. You were worried, and it took three and a half movies before you were able to fall asleep, but eventually, to the gentle lull of Christmas music, your eyes slipped shut on Christmas Eve.

Sam and Dean were practically dragging themselves into the bunker by the time they made it home. It was a long haul back, and they hadn’t even managed to check in with you.

Dean had been adamant about making it back before Christmas. He had been holding onto a special gift for you for months, and maybe it was a little cheesy, but he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.

“Wow.”

Sam had been the first to step back into the bunker, and Dean couldn’t see over his giraffe of a younger brother, so he was left to wonder what “wow” meant. He wasn’t left waiting for long though, because as soon as he got through the door, he saw the decorations all placed precariously throughout the room, making the bunker feel a little more like a home.

“So much for rest,” Dean muttered, already preparing his worried, yet heartfelt speech about why injuries were not to be taken lightly.

“That’s exactly what I need,” Sam hid a yawn behind his hand. “I’m heading to bed, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Dean waved him off, following the string of multi-colored lights to the living room. You had a habit of waiting on the couch for him when he was gone, like you thought you could stay awake a few extra hours just in case he made it home early. It brought a smile to his face.

As expected, you were stretched out of the couch, clothed in an old, oversized t-shirt of his. His blanket was wrapped snugly around your body, and the corner of your lips were pulled up like you were having a good dream.

Unable to help himself, he slipped his phone from his pocket and snapped a quick photo of you. He had an album in his camera roll, labeled with just a heart, that consisted solely of the photos that made him fall a little more in love with you.

It was created the day after he met you, and there were already several hundred photos in it.

“(Y/N),” Dean called softly, careful rousing you. As a hunter, you were sometimes a little too aggressive if you were suddenly woken up.

“Dean,” you whispered back, your eyes still shut, but the beginnings of consciousness seeping in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied, dropping down onto his knees to get closer to you.

By the time you opened your eyes, he was right there, running his thumb along your cheek.

“How’d the hunt go?” You inquired, leaning into his touch.

His lips quirked up.

“A few bruises, Sammy’s hair got a little messed up, nothing serious.”

You breathed a laugh, reaching up to cradle his head with your hands. He kissed your wrist as you did so.

“Looks like Santa got here early,” Dean commented after a moment, nodding his head in the direction of the tree.

“Guess so,” you stated, failing to keep the smile off your lips. “Hope you’ve been good this year.”

His brows raised, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Darling,” he drawled, “You and I both know I haven’t.”

You giggled at his silly joke, moving to sit up so you could embrace him a little better. He took the sudden vacancy as an opportunity to slip into the spot beside you. His arms wrapped more firmly around your waist, tugging you onto his lap.

“I missed you,” you hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Of course you did,” he teased, pressing his lips to your cheek. He stayed there for a moment, letting the warmth of your skin seep into the cold whispers the days without you had brought.

“I’ve got a present for you,” he said suddenly, shifting a bit to pull the gift from his pocket.

“I think you’re supposed to open gifts on Christmas,” you reminded him, listening to the strong beat of his heart against your head.

“I mean, it’s passed midnight,” he argued, holding a small box out in the palm of his hand.

It was made of wood, and had a symbol you didn’t quite understand carved into the smooth mahogany, but you took it with a smile nonetheless.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you stated. You had meant for this Christmas to be all about him and Sam.

“Open it,” he urged, ignoring your objection without hesitation.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, popping the box open with a soft click.

It was a necklace. The chain and pendant were both a shiny silver, though the pendant was shaped like a compass. You gasped, reaching out to run a finger along the craftsmanship.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him. “Why the compass?”

Even in the dim light provided by the Christmas decorations, you could see the red on his cheeks.

“So you’ll always find your way home to me.”

It was very much an un-Dean thing to say. He had, in recent months, been exceedingly comfortable with you, and had allowed himself to say some of what he had hidden under his gruff, macho exterior.

It was endearing.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“It’s made from the knife you stabbed me with.”

While that sentence would sound totally bonkers from anyone else, and honestly make you question whether you should be in jail, the story wasn’t quite as cut and dry as Dean made it seem.

You and Sam had to perform a ritual to force the creature possessing Dean out of his body. In order to do so, you’d had to get some amount of blood. However, the creature had made it nearly impossible, and in the end you’d sent the blade through his hand.

Cas had been there to heal him up, but Dean hadn’t let you live that one down ever since. It had been used in one too many guilt trips.

“I was-”

“Saving my life, I know, I know,” he interrupted with a laugh.

You lightly pushed against his shoulder.

“You’re a jerk,” you claimed, admiring the gift. It was really pretty, and the details were immaculate.

“But you love me,” he sing-songed.

“I do,” you agreed, leaning up to kiss his jaw. His eyes slipped shut as you did so. “Somehow.”

“Funny,” he retorted dryly. “Now let’s get you to bed, since you obviously didn’t rest while we were gone.”

Yeah, you were definitely expecting some sort of a lecture on your inability to rest, despite being injured. At least he’d let you cuddle some before launching into it.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader

47 notes · View notes

casmybelovedass · 4 years

Text

The Destiel Folder: Season 8

[Season 4; Season 5; Season 6; Season 7]

Oooohhh this is where things start getting JUICY

Episode 1:

Again, Dean copes with the idea of Cas not being there by lying to himself

Parallel from S6: Dean behaves exactly like he was while looking for Lisa and Ben, looking for Cas. "Where's the angel!" (16:57)

Dean clearly states he won't leave PurGAYtory without Cas (22:45)

Episode 2:

Since Dean has come back, he has been snappy with Sam and Crowley about Cas, but every time he remembers PurGAYtory, he is either looking for Cas or with him, and that's all he thinks of

Again with the paraparallels with Lisa and Ben (12:21), also "You'll find your angel there." (13:19) ICWAW, come on, do I have to point that out?

"There are some in Heaven who still believe, despite his mistakes, that Castiel's heart was always in the right place [...] I think... too much heart was always Castiel's problem." (22:25) Samandriel says all of this while looking directly at Dean

Look at that hug. Have we ever seen Dean hug Cas before? The gring on Dean's face. [This is so fucking funny too me, the "Nice peach fuzz" reaction to Cas' beard VS the Sam's "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" reaction in season 14] (23:21)

"I prayed to you, Cas, every night!" (24:37) Cas once again chose to leave/hurt Dean in order to protect him, even tho he really doesn't want to leave him. "There've been things hunting me. [...] I've a price on my head and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them to... to keep them away from you." (24:54) Those fucking eyes kill me

Dean is willing to risk it all to get Cas out with him. "Cas, buddy... I need you." [yeah, let's see how well that ages on episode 17], also the little "Dean... " after that... BABIES (25:33)

That smile, those eyes... LOOK AT HIM. This is such a "You and me against everything" moment that, ICWAW, would be considered HELLA ROMANTIC

"I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?" (25:51) for fucking finally, also 12 seconds of STARE + LICK of the LIPS action. Oooohhh ICWAW... just imagine

Let us remember that all of this ⬆️, Dean remembers after Samandriel told him "too much heart bla bla bla"

"... [Kevin] thinks people I don't need anymore, they end up dead." (40:36) 'you', Dean? Only you? That's so much guilt you are packing. And immediately after he thinks about trying to save Cas from PurGAYtory and failing... Alrighty then

Episode 5:

I get why some people ship Dean and Benny, but they really do struck me as a bromance. When they call each other "brother", I believe that. With Cas, Dean pulls the "brother card" whenever he's opening his heart to him, basically "no-homo"ing it at the end. Weird right? (12:03)

Benny bitches about Cas being a danger to them because of the attraction monsters have to him, and Cas himself tries convincing Dean he has to leave him behind for his own good, but Dean is having none of that shit and is ready to die trying to save him (12:56)

FUCK MY LIFE we are getting flashbacks from both Sam and Dean, Sam about the time he spent with Amelia, and Dean about looking for, finding and trying to save Cas. I MEAN??!!! ICWAW you BET this would be seen as a ROMANTIC PARALLEL

"He's a friend." "A friend? Dean, you don't have any- all your friends are dead." "That's not what I called to talk about!!" Ouch (25:27)

Episode 6:

"I was in Purgatory." "Like 'purgatory' Purgatory?" "No, the one in Miami." ... that's a gay bar, Dean, how would you know? (11:23)

Dean's lying to himself about Cas letting go (35:32)

Episode 7:

Parallel to S1 Sam seeing Jess while in the car (2:31). Kill me. Also Dean allucinates Cas just like Sam did with Jess (10:15) band tries coping with it by repeating to himself that he didn't leave Cas behind

Every scene in Purgatory where Cas tries to reassure Dean that, if he doesn't make it, it's just the way it is, and Dean insisting he won't leave without him. "I'm just saying... if it doesn't work.. Thank you. For everything." (12:50) I'm dying

Cas comes back and all Dean does for the first few moments is check him out (16:16-16:21) He says he kept trying to reach for the boys, but wasn't at full power, tho somehow Dean was the only one who could see him. And Dean's eyes looking back at Cas (17:58) End me now

FUCKING👏BONER👏SHIFT👏 (20:38)

LOOK AT HIM!! He's checking him out, making THAT face and SHIFTING IN HIS SEAT WHILE PRESSING A HAND TO HIS CROTCH. THAT'S A BONER SHIFT. Look at Sam and then at Dean (20:44) One is a friendly fond reaction, one ISN'T.

ICWAW, we wouldn't even be QUESTIONING it!

The amount of checking out in this episode is crazy. Look at Dean checking out Cas. Look at his face! THE EYES (24:08) ICWA- OH COME ON DO I HAVE TO POINT THAT OUT?!

"Did you not trust me?" "Dean..." "I did everything I could to get you out. Everything! ... I did not leave you." "... So you think this was your fault?" OH MY GOD SO FUCKING #MARRIED LOOK AT CAS' EYES (28:06) ICWA- I'm not even trying anymore

So many soft shoulder touches (34:42) also HOT SCENE I don't know why "I'm going in." "Cas, no. You're not strong enough." (35:15) precious babies

"You could've gotten yourself killed. Why didn't you wait for me?" "Well, I didn't get killed, and it worked." "And if it didn't?!" "It would have been my problem." "Well, it's not the way I see it!" (37:36) #MARRIED they're SO MARRIED

Dean keeps blaming himself for Cas not getting out "I don't need to feel like hell for failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing I care about." SEE??! (38:16) Dean preferred believing he had let Cas down, something he is used to, than he had sacrified himself for him (38:48). Dean can't believe Cas thought he deserved to stay in Purgatory. Also THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER (39:38) And Dean's deeply hurt by the fact that Cas would leave him to safety and remain in Purgatory as self punishment for what Dean had painted as all Cas' fault. And he is full of regret (41:30)

Episode 8:

[How fucking cute is it that Cas wants to become a hunter. I'M SQUEELING]

They are so #MARRIED my heart ACHES (5:02) and the way Dean looks at Cas is so fucking SOFT. And 6 seconds of just staring and... well, Cas in general (5:13)

"What? I was being bad cop." "No, you were being bad everything!" (9:12) #MARRIED (12:04) I'm dying, they're so cute

"I don't sleep." "Okay, well, I need my 4 hours, so-" "I'll watch over you *puppy eyes*" (12:52)

"Hey, can you lift this?" sure, Dean, every excuse is valid to have Cas be hot by effortlessly moving an anvil. And see how Cas looks at Dean, like "Really? You even had to ask? I'll fucking show you I can lift this shit". Look at how he looks back side-eyes at Dean here (14:16), like he's making sure Dean is watching him being hot. I'm dead

This is such a fucking sweet moment [I mean, kinda looked like the begging of a porn at first] (16:01). Dean can sense Cas is not okay, and gets him to open up about his feelings. And when Cas admits being suicidal, Dean is speechless, not even being able to imagine such an outcome. Anyway, it is so fucking sweet that they're always able to show themselves vulnerable to each other

Shut up. Look at this scene (18:51-18:53). Mute the video and just look. This is Sam marrying Cas and Dean. PERIODT.

"You're so pretty, Charles. [...] You were quite the bounder." DEAN'S FACE (20:27) He's so in love, and immediately after he LICKS HIS LIPS

While Sam talks about running away from your problems (referring to Amelia), and having to wake up in order not to destroy everything, the pan focuses on Cas (35:33) Subtext, gentlethem, subtext. CAS, FACE YOUR FEELINGS. SOON

Dean's face when Cas says he's not coming back with them (38:16-39:21)

Episode 10:

I now this scene is supposed to be funny, but the way Cas looks at Dean AAAWWW (6:53-7:01) Also do you really have to walk so close to Cas, Dean? Do you? While CHECKING HIM OUT nonetheless?! (7:54)

Remember when in 7x01 Dean was totally comfortable watching porn in front of his brother? Well, Dean goes on and on about Cas being a "brother", but his fucking reaction to Cas being in the same room as him with porn on his computer, is BY FAR the same he has with Sam, hell he even keeps watching with Sam! (8:05) Is it because the last time he, porn and Cas were in the same room, Cas popped a BONER?

Random guy @ Dean: "Are you serious?" Cas: "*leans in to look at Dean* That's his serious face, yes." And Dean's reaction (12:59) SO FUCKING #MARRIED

Dean, that's not the way you look at a friend, or a BROTHER (13:38)

LOOK!! I swear to GOD ICWAW that would be seen as nothing other than CHECKING OUT YOUR CRUSH

"Hey, how about we say, if this doesn't pan out, we had back to that beer and bacon happy hour a mile back, huh?" Translation: "Since I'm starting to realize I might feel something more for you, let me take you on what is totally not a date unless you want it to be" (16:58)

(24:02) #MARRIED

Dean, will you stop checking out Cas during missions? (25:06) Same goes for you, Cas, don't check if your husband's got a boner for you being the hero here (25:08)

Since the start of this season, we've been getting parallels between Sam & Amelia and Dean & Cas. The flashbacks, the guilt for leaving the other half behind, and now Dean tells Sam he's jealous he got a chance at being happy with Amelia (37:32)!!! I MEAN- and fuck my life when I tell you there are parallels with the whole Sam-Amelia-Don & Cas-Dean-Benny thing. I'M TELLING YOU

Episode 11:

"Trust me, this life... you can't afford attachments. You just gotta... let go." "... Are we still talking about Sam, or did you break up with someone too?" (21:17) CHARLIE KNOWS. TELL HIM CHARLIE

Episode 13:

Bitch... Dean's reaction to getting publicly hit on by a dude, so not the one a straight guy, confident in his sexuality and masculinity, "no-homo bro" would have (15:36). Just saying, we have seen Dean turn down what he thought were avances, and other implications regarding his sexuality, with either sarcasm/humor or anger... this is new. Progress?! [Wait till we get to 15x7]

Episode 16:

[Keep in mind how Dean's bedroom looks. Trust me]

Episode 17: OOOOHHH BOI

Cas has been tortured, mind-fucked, obligated to kill fake Deans over 1K times, in order to be ready to kill the real one. Let that sink in

Dean prayed to Cas, I'm sure almost every night, and can already sense something is not right with him ever since he came back from Purgatory (11:31), but when Sam questions his prayers to Cas, Dean doesn't know how to respond. Like, what, do I need a reason to try and contact my crush?

"There has to be another way. [...] This isn't right! [...] I won't hurt Dean!" (29:51-31:00) "Cas, fight this! This is not you! FIGHT IT!" and he does. Cas fights it. [and as soon as Cas starts fighting back, Heaven tints with BI COLOURS! LOOK AT THEM WINDOW THINGY (31:16) OF ALL COLOURS]

Dean is on the verge of tears, kneeling in front of Cas, telling him "This isn't you!", and to fight. He is pleading. And by the end, bloody, hopeless, "Cas... it's me! We're family. We need you... I need you." and Cas stops. (33:13)

Cas breaks the connection Naomi had installed in him. Once again, when presented with the choice, he chooses Dean over Heaven. All of this because Dean needed him. And let's not forget Dean was originally ment to say "I love you.", and that would've been the reason Cas snapped out of the control. I MEAN ICWAW THIS WOULD FUCKING BE CANON

Dean, thinking Cas is going to kill him, clutches onto the coat's sleeve for dear life, to the memory of his Cas (34:21) KILL ME

"What broke the connection?" The look in Cas' eyes... "I don't know." OH YES YOU DO (36:15) and Dean's face when Cas says he needs to protect the angel tablet. Dean knows he's gonna leave again (36:23). ICWAW, this whole scene would be the UMPTEENTH CONFESSION

Episode 18:

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" "Me?" "Yeah. Cass dinged you up pretty good." "... and?" "And I just wanted to make sure you're okay." "...What, like, my feelings?!" "If that's what you wanna talk about, sure." Dean gets pissy pretty easily when talking about Cas, who left once again, and his feelings. Also, Sam knows, and he ships it. He's president of the Destiel Company (4:02)

Episode 19:

The thing with the Deanny relationship is: Dean is naturally affectionate towards Sam, and he expresses the same towards Benny. His relationship with the both of them is very very similar, while see Dean showing affection towards Cas [same as he does with Sam] only during extreme emotional moments. Dean is known for repressing his feelings, and having a tendency to maintaining a "macho" exterior. He shows himself vulnerable in front of Cas, but not enough for him to think less of Dean. So, think about it

Episode 20:

Charlie, a lesbian, who has only ever heard of Castiel through Dean, describes him as seeming "dreamy" while talking to Dean... GAYDAR ANYONE??!!! (9:16)

Episode 21:

"In the words of a good friend... 'bite me'." Cas is quoting Dean, and if I remember correctly, Dean will quote Cas' "ass-butt" later on (16:"10)

Episode 22:

I hate when Dean treats Cas poorly, badly, because he can't deal with his feelings. In the heat of the moment, Dean is always forgiving, helpful and caring, but as soon As things cool down, he goes back to being cold, bitchy and snappy, like nothing ever happened. Repressed mother fucker

The small flash of hurt on Cas' face when Dean ignores his "Good morning" (3:33) fighting coupleTM. "Dean, I can go with you. *is ignored* Dean... I'm sorry. [LOOK AT THAT FACE]" "For what?" "For everything." "Everything? Like ignoring us?" #MARRIED

Cas is buying porn, beer and pie to make amends to Dean. "Where's the pie?" "I think we're out." "*grabs store clerk* You don't understand. I need pie!" (14:50) they are so fucking #MARRIED

Episode 23:

This is such a sweet moment. Cas is about to close the doors to his old home behind himself forever, while risking getting killed by his own kind, and Dean is worried about him. They are sharing drinks while longingly staring into each other's eyes. This is so sweet. Also, Dean warned Sam he might not be coming back. Why? Cuz he would probably die while trying to protect Cas from other angels. To them, they are probably spending their last moments together, while looking at each other like THAT (22:38) And 5 seconds of STARES (23:10)

In love. Fucking fools in love, that's what they are.

This is so stupid but they have just witnessed a cupid matching up two dudes, after all of the above⬆️ (23:53) AND IT'S JUST FUNNY!! Dean is stunned and all, while Cas is complitely fine and professional (24:04-24:17-24:21) DEAN'S FACE

"Talk first, stab later." (26:21) Cas is like "Bitch, you talking? That was our first date!" #MARRIED

[I'll just leave this here (37:00)]

Now shit's getting real

[Season 9>>]

87 notes · View notes

shotgun--rider · 4 years

Text

Daylight

A Dean x Reader oneshot

Dean finds a letter addressed to him from Y/N, and finds a lot more in her honest words than he was expecting.

Word count: 4100

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, extraordinarily fluffy smut, Dean panics a lot

*Female reader, she/her pronouns used in Dean’s POV

A/N: This wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is, and boy is it aggressively sweeter and softer than intended.

Dean tears open drawers with panicked abandon, hearing the crashing sounds of Sam doing the same to the other side of Y/N’s bedroom. There’s no time to worry about sending her research notes flying, about the haphazard pile of her underwear when he dumps her drawers on the floor. It has to be here. It has to be.

“Dean, there’s nothing here!”

A glance over his shoulder shows Sammy’s eyes wide with the same terror that’s eating up his chest, her room looking like the aftermath of a hurricane and nothing to show for it.

“Damn it, keep looking!”

The image of Y/N doubled over the bathroom sink, choking up blood, is burned into his brain, and the knowledge that Cas is staying with her is the only thing keeping him here, instead of at her side.

“Who the hell even got in here with a hex bag?” Sam demands, one of his arms snaking under the mattress desperately.

“I don’t know, okay? We’ll figure it out later. After we save Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing.” Sam’s hands fly up to his hair for a moment, turning a slow circle as his eyes rake the bedroom for anything they haven’t been through yet. “Dean, there’s nothing here.”

“There has to be,” Dean retorts shortly, running his hand along the upper shelf of the closet. He flat-out refuses to consider any other option in front of Sam, but his brain isn’t getting the message. It’s entirely too easy to picture her sprawled out on the tile of the bunker bathroom, blood staining her mouth with her E/C eyes staring up at nothing. And it’s not like he’s lacking in material for inspiration, having seen her in all manner of near-dead positions on hunts before, giving him a heart attack every damn time.

But Cas has always been there to heal her, to brush his fingers against her forehead and melt away every life-threatening wound. And this time is infinitely more terrifying, because even an angel can’t just undo witches’ spells. Dean swallows hard, turning to attack the bedside table even though Sam had already dumped out the little drawer.

“Dean!”

Dean’s head snaps up, almost tripping over himself trying to get to the doorway. “Cas? Cas, is she--”

The angel is suddenly in front of him, holding the familiar looking small brown bag. “It was in the library,” he says simply, catching it on fire with a simple flick of his hand. His hand lands on Dean’s shoulder, then, smiling with a gentle look in his blue eyes. “She’s fine, Dean.”

Relief first, and then the familiar ache of guilt. There wouldn’t have ever been anyone coming for her if he hadn’t been the one to let her start hunting in the first place. Wordlessly, he throws his best attempt at a smile in Cas’s direction, turning back into Y/N’s bedroom.

“Go check on her,” he tells Sam roughly, an unidentifiable catch in his throat. Y/N certainly doesn’t need him hovering around at the end of a mess he hadn’t even managed to fix. “I’m gonna clean up.”

Sam stares at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re gonna...clean up?” he echoes.

“What?” Dean shrugs, trying his best for an air of nonchalance.

Sam just shakes his head, apparently giving up on his brother’s weirdness and following Cas back in the direction of the bunker’s bathroom.

Dean clears his throat roughly, in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump that seems stuck there, and sighs. The bedroom is a complete mess, and, truthfully, cleaning it is the last thing he's interested in. Still, in the moment, it feels like a safer option than facing Y/N, so he bends forward, gathering up some of the scattered papers he’d knocked out of the closet.

There’s a sheet of notebook paper on top of the haphazard stack when he taps it against the edge of the desk, trying to get them in some semblance of order. It’s folded in half, off-center, and would have been completely unobtrusive but for the scrawl of his name on the front, in her familiar handwriting.

Dean pauses, setting the stack down on the desk and lifting the sheet slowly, glancing once over his shoulder out of habit before unfolding it. His face scrunches up in surprised confusion almost immediately, smoothing out into something that matches the gut-punch feeling in his chest as he continues reading.

Dean,

I know you don’t want to hear this, but I needed to get it out of my head and put it down somewhere. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you, anyway. It’s not like you’re going to read this.

You break my heart, Dean Winchester. (I can hear you laughing, telling me to stop being dramatic. “It’s not a chick flick, Y/N.” Shut up.) You are strong and kind and selfless in so many ways, and you put yourself last to save everybody else and you always find some way to take the blame. But it’s not your fault, Dean. It’s not. You’re good enough, as you are, and the fact that you can’t see you the way we do breaks my heart.

Everyone around you loves you so much, Dean--me, Sam, Cas, you’ve even grown on Meg. And you don’t have to save the world. I know experience would beg to differ, but I promise, you don’t. Not at your own expense and not by yourself, and it’s okay if the only person you can save right now is you.

It’s okay to choose yourself. It’s okay to want someone else to choose you. And I promise you that you won’t hurt them, Dean. Seriously. You won’t.

I hope you find something that makes you happy. And I hope I get to be there to see it.

Love,

Y/N

Further down, the writing is slanted and rushed, a desperate addition, an afterthought, maybe a prayer.

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

Let it go, Dean. There’s still daylight here, let it go.

----

You’re in the kitchen when Dean walks in, in search of a sandwich and trying in vain to fend off Cas. “There you are,” you smile brightly at him. “I thought my closet might have swallowed you. Sam said you were cleaning up, I don’t know what possessed you to even try--” You cut yourself off, annoyance creeping onto your features as you reach up to knock Cas’s fingers away from your forehead for what has to be the fourth or fifth time. “Cas, I’m fine. But I am hungry. So move,”

The angel fixes you with a concerned look in his blue eyes. “I just want to be sure--”

“Cas,” you stare hard at him, unblinking. “Go do some research or something before you drive me crazy,”

He leaves in a flutter of wings with an expression of mixed confusion and frustration as he vanishes, and you sigh, calling a half-sarcastic, “I love you!” to the empty room before turning your attention to Dean.

“So, to be clear, the closet did not eat you,”

Dean’s mouth twists like he’s trying to smile but it’s gotten stuck somewhere. “Nah,” he says, his voice an octave lower than you were expecting. “Are you okay?”

You shrug, letting out a quiet victory squeak when you finally find where someone has jammed the loaf of bread, all the way in the back of the fridge. “Cas burned the hex bag, I’m good.” And to you, that’s all it is. You’ve been hunting for years; a little hex bag encounter is far from the worst that’s happened to you. And once you caught your breath and wiped the blood off of your lips, it was done.

“I wonder if there’s a hidden health benefit to puking blood,” you muse absently, debating between mayo and mustard. “Like, they say crying is actually good for your skin, so…”

Dean is staring at you with a pained expression, and you trail off, blinking at him. “What’s up with you?”

“You almost died, Y/N,” his voice still sounds rougher than usual.

“Yeah.” You smile at him in a way that you hope is reassuring. “Kinda. But I didn’t. This is a typical Tuesday for us, Dean, what are you...” You let the question hang in the air, unfinished, as you study his face. “Oh, and don’t go thinking it’s somehow your fault. I know you,”

“Yeah, I...kinda got that,”

“What?”

Dean’s hand reaches into the pocket of his jeans (which, incidentally, do amazing things for his ass) and then he’s pulling out a folded up piece of lined notebook paper and oh. Oh, damn.

His tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip nervously, and you have to make an effort not to watch like a hypnotized creep, and then he flashes you that smile that he sometimes tries on the diner waitresses. The one that says I’m trying to be confident but I’m actually awkward as all hell right now. “It, uh, had my name on it,” he says after a beat, offering it to you like he thinks you’re going to want it back.

Well, it was always for him anyway. Even if part of you wanted to shrivel up and die in embarrassment now that you knew he knew. “You can keep it, Dean. It’s for you.”

He sets it down on the table anyway, leaning one hip next to it and blinking like a deer in the headlights. “Y/N, I--”

You clear your throat. “I hope it wasn’t too awful. I don’t really remember what I wrote.” That’s kind of a lie, especially when it comes to the later two additions, but oh well.

“No, it-it was good,” Dean’s hand twitches like he’s about to reach toward you, and he curls it into a fist instead. “When did you…”

The question trails off but you know what he’s asking. Blowing out a breath, you abandon your half-made sandwich and reach for the paper on the table instead, unfolding it and sliding closer to Dean. “I wrote this the night after the case at Sonny’s,” you tell him quietly. “I was so damn mad---you were a kid, Dean, you didn’t--” you shake your head, refocusing your thoughts. “I had all these thoughts running around my head and I knew I was going to end up screaming them all at you in the middle of the library one day if I didn’t put them somewhere. I didn’t ever expect you to actually read it.”

You suck in a breath of surprise as Dean moves to stand behind you, one arm sliding around your waist. It’s entirely unexpected and sends a shiver at the contact running though your entire body, but somehow it feels natural. It’s as if some barrier between the two of you has broken with this letter, and you can’t find it in yourself to mind. By the time his chin finds its way to the top of your head, peeking down at the letter with you, you’ve relaxed into his hold, the solid warmth of him at your back.

You tap the sheet of paper with one short fingernail, over the words you’d scrawled on repeat, echoing the prayer in your head. Hold on. “That’s from when we were looking for you. Demon you.” You can joke about it now, sort of, so you smirk, wishing you could see his face. “Your little summer of love with Crowley?”

Dean huffs petulantly and tightens his arms around you, and you can picture his pink lips turning into a pout. “It was not,”

“Uh huh, whatever you say,”

Dean stays silent for a moment, absorbing the information and continuing to hang onto you, and then poses one last question. “What’s the daylight thing from?”

That one’s never going to be funny, and you exhale. “The Mark, after Charlie...you wouldn’t talk to any of us and I just wanted you to know it wasn’t all darkness, you know?”

Dean shudders on a breath behind you, and suddenly you need to see his face. He lets you turn around in his arms, now with the kitchen table against your back, and some bolder part of you slides your hands up to link behind his neck. His green eyes are shining with not-quite-tears as he looks at you, biting off words before he can start speaking. Finally, he settles on familiar ground. Teasing. “So I break your heart, huh?”

You smirk back at him. “Only when you’re stupid.”

He pouts, adorably, and you resist the urge to kiss it off of his face. “When you don’t accept that you deserve good things,” you clarify, leaning closer because Dean is like a goddamn magnet and what are you doing. “That’s just not correct.” The words are spoken a hair’s breadth from his lips, your breath ghosting over them, and Dean closes the gap a heartbeat later.

It’s a hesitant press of his lips on yours, feeling you out like he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be welcome here, and it still feels like being lit up on fire. You’re fully aware that five seconds of kissing this man has turned you into a goddamned cliche, but as you push up on your toes to kiss him back harder, you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your enthusiasm is all the encouragement Dean needs, and you squeak against his lips as his hands find your hips to boost you up onto the tabletop, parting your legs for him to stand between them as his hand comes back up to tangle into your hair. His other slides up your thigh, thumb grazing over the inside seam of your jeans, and you shiver in spite of yourself.

Finally breaking away to breathe, Dean moves down to press open mouthed kisses in a trail down your neck, pulling a gasp out of you. “Dean,” you murmur, your fingers raking through his short hair. “Dean,”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The words are more a vibration against your skin than anything spoken aloud.

“I don’t--mmmh--want to be having sex on the counter when your brother walks in,”

Dean pulls back to look at you, all messy hair and blown pupils, and even though it’s what you wanted, you can’t help but already miss his touch. “Good point,” he rasps out, and before you have any time to react, slides his hands under your thighs to lift you off of the table and into his arms

“Don’t drop me,” you manage, your ankles locking automatically around his back and your hands tight on his shoulders. “Please,”

Dean chuckles, low, and catches your mouth in a messy kiss that leaves you breathless. “Wouldn’t dare,”

Somehow, you both make it to the door with the gold 11 on it without running into any walls or any of the bunker’s other occupants, which is no small miracle, all things considered. Dean wrestles the door open with his other hand still supporting your weight, dropping you onto the mattress with a hungry look that says he’s going to claim every inch of you.

You reach your hands out to him impatiently, wanting him closer, wanting to touch. You’re certainly not complaining about the view, but you’ve been looking at him for years. An annoyed noise comes out of your throat when he doesn’t immediately comply, instead smiling down at you with an expression that’s no less passionate, but somehow more gentle than a few moments before.

Dean comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand tracing an aimless path up your ankle and calf, apparently ignoring the sizeable bulge in his own jeans. “Shh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you to sit up and peels you out of your clothes almost reverently, discarding them across his bedroom floor until you’re left in just the plain underwear you’d put on that morning, and you can hear his breath catch when he looks at you.

Every other guy you’d ever slept with got both of you naked like it was a speed competition, treating the whole thing as purely physical. Which you supposed it was, given that every other guy you’d slept with had been briefly vetted over the course of a few beers and then picked up out of whatever bar you were in that night. Hunter-style hookups. No strings attached.

But Dean is looking at you like you’re something otherworldly, and while you’re not sure you deserve it, it brings a warm feeling to your chest that has nothing to do with the sensation of him licking his way over your breasts and down to the line of your underwear. He pauses there, his fingertips sliding just under the waistband, and looks up at you with those reverent green eyes for permission.

“Dean, just hurry up,” you tell him, impatience running through your voice. You’re already flushed and panting, probably looking like a complete wreck spread out over his sheets, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

Then suddenly his tongue is licking a stripe directly over your cunt without any warning and an involuntary cry escapes you at the sensation. So much for not scarring anyone else in the bunker, you think wryly, and then all rational thought flees your brain as Dean slides a finger inside you, busying his tongue with rapid little flicks over your clit. “Oh god, Dean, fuck,”

Your hand flies down to clutch at his head as he slides a second finger in to join the first, just enough sense left to remind yourself not to mindlessly suffocate him against your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming and still somehow not enough, keeping you right on the edge without sending you over, and underneath it all there’s still an undercurrent of gentleness that takes your breath away in a whole other way. “I can’t--please, I--” you pant out, no longer sure if you’re even making sense.

Dean hums softly, the vibration running through you, and your hips buck up involuntarily in search of more friction. His mouth moves to suck your clit between his lips, his fingers curling inside you at the same time, and you fly apart with a shout, your head falling back and your entire body tensing through what has to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Not that you’re going to tell him that.

“Jesus, Dean,” you breathe out when you can see straight again. “Just...Jesus.”

Dean chuckles softly, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness, and he seems perfectly content in spite of narrowly surviving being squeezed to death between your thighs. A few more of your brain cells come back online, and suddenly you’re staring at him in puzzlement. “Why are you still dressed?”

He takes that as his cue to climb off of the bed and strip, and all of those damn layers end up making it a teasing show for you even if that wasn’t his goal. Dean shrugs out of the flannel first, then strips off the shirt underneath and unbuckles his belt. By the time he’s left standing in just his boxers, you’re unashamedly two seconds from drooling and he’s painfully too far away from you.

Dean drops the boxers before coming back to kneel over you, his cock rock hard against his stomach. You’d never thought about a man’s junk as “beautiful” before, but it’s the word that comes to mind as you reach out to wrap your hand around him, thumb swiping over the tip and watching him shudder in response. Instead of letting you continue, though, he pulls your hand away, lacing his fingers in both of yours and resting your linked hands above your head as he leans forward to kiss you.

It’s sweet, unexpected but perfect, and when he finally slides inside you, leaving you both gasping at the feeling, it seems dangerously close to making love. Dean gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him filling you up, only moving after your hips have rocked up into him, urging him on.

Somehow you’d thought that being carried through the bunker, all tangled tongues and occasionally teeth, had set the stage for something wild. Or maybe that was just you projecting your assumptions of what Dean would be like in bed. And you had no doubt he could be, but this was...soft. Slow, no matter how much you tried to urge him faster, and you lost yourself in the slide of his cock, the rhythm of his body against you, the feeling of his hands holding onto yours.

He was watching you with an expression that was half lust and half love, the slow roll of his hips hitting just right inside you, and a low groan rips out of his throat when you tighten your walls around him. “Come for me, baby,”

Dean releases one of your hands to slip between your bodies, his thumb flicking over your clit in time with a sharper snap of his hips, and it shatters you. The slow build has you flying apart screaming, clinging to Dean like he’s the only thing left holding you together as your orgasm breaks over you in waves.

He follows you over the edge a few moments later, falling forward to press his lips to yours with an expression of pure, blissed-out pleasure on his face. For a while, neither of you move, lost in the moment and not quite capable of higher brain function.

Eventually, Dean pulls back to look at you with a goofy grin on his lips, pulling a startled laugh out of you at the expression, and you clean up and rearrange yourselves smiling like a pair of fools, which, you suppose, you kind of are.

Afterward, you lay curled into Dean’s side, legs tangled together and your hand resting over his heart and his anti-possession tattoo while his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. He’s the first one to break the silence, tilting his head to look at you with warm green eyes. He’s close enough that you could probably count the freckles dashed across his face, but he’s distracting you with words instead. “You make me happy,” he says, voice low, and you’re suddenly reminded of the last wish you wrote in that letter.

“Good,” you say stoutly, warmth ballooning in your chest at the words. Dean already looks awkward and slightly red at the little confession, though, and you’re not going to drag more emotions out of him. You lean up briefly, planting a quick little peck on his lips, and snuggle back down against him, just existing in your own little world for a brief, precious moment.

----

Dean wakes up alone. Instinctive panic is choking him as he scrambles up, his still half-asleep mind wondering automatically if she’s safe, if something has gotten to her.

Closer inspection of his bedroom floor would have shown him that wherever she was, she was wandering around without any of her clothes, and thus probably hadn’t gotten that far, but Dean doesn’t bother thinking that through. He shoves his legs into a pair of sweats that are slung over the back of the desk chair, almost falling flat in his rush, and bursts out into the hallway.

His green eyes are wild and his hair is still styled with the aftermath of sex and sleep, and Sam’s startled reaction to seeing him tear his way into the war room shouldn’t come as a surprise.

“Morning,” Sam says dryly, looking over his brother from head to toe. “Dean--what?”

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dean gets out through the panic that’s suddenly thick in his chest.

“She’s outside,” Sam gestures up the bunker stairs to the door, shrugging in a way that suggests that all of this is completely casual. “Dude, what--”

Dean’s already gone, up the bunker stairs and out the door still shirtless and barefoot, and there she is. All of the knots in his stomach are washed away in an instant, looking at her on the bunker’s concrete front step. She’s safe. She’s okay.

She’s just wearing his flannel, the material drowning her hands and falling to her thighs, and she’s barefoot too. She turns at the sound of him opening the door, coffee mug in hand, and her eyes light up when they land on him. “Look, Dean,” she says with a sunny smile, and he can breathe again. Y/N tilts her head to the sky, hair stirring in the breeze against her borrowed flannel collar, and she’s looking at the peach and purple sunrise painting the sky when she speaks. “Daylight.”

He’s looking at her.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #reader insert #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn #oneshot #fluff #smut #fluff everywhere

194 notes · View notes

deepeststarfishsong · 4 years

Text

Gentleman

Quarantine has my days all out of whack, so we're starting on week two!

Written for @helianthus21, @pray4jensen, & @bend-me-shape-me‘s #SPNStayAtHomeChallenge 13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman.

Cross posted to Ao3.

Thanks to @beccawoof, my love, for the beta and for having casual expertise in SNP canon compliance.

Nothing about today was especially unique. They had, for all intents and purposes, wrapped up a typical job without any momentous happenings. They were hunting a wendigo just outside the Wheeler County line but they’d been able to stick to the game plan more or less and no one had been seriously injured. Dean appreciated jobs like these. They could mark one in the win column and skip town without any additional feelings of guilt; no one died on their watch and they walked away without additional scars.

Bartlett, Nebraska had been a good four hour drive each way but the warm August evenings and the rolling green farmland made for excellent driving. Dean had rolled his window down and settled into the seat, enjoying the easy pace and casual way Sam turned in the seat to discuss the case with Cas. An hour into the drive back to Sioux Falls, Dean flipped on his indicators and pulled off the 281 to fuel up the Impala and load up on coffee.

While Dean fussed with the premium handle, arguing with the machine and its failures to read his card, Cas and Sam wandered into the station still deep in conversation about the authenticity of internet accounts of wendigo psychosis. Nerds.

As he hung up the pump handle, Sam returned to the car, coffee in hand. “Dude, where’s mine?” Dean huffed.

“This is yours,” Sam smirked at him, handing him the polystyrene cup with ‘Thanks a Latte’ printed repeatedly in awful Old English type. “I’m going to make an attempt at sleep.” Sam gestured towards the backseat.

Dean thanked him by way of a nod, and slid back behind the wheel. “If you start drooling on my seats, I can’t be held responsible for punching you,” Dean teased. Sam grunted from the backseat, shedding his flannel and scrunching it up into some semblance of a pillow.

Dean looked up as Cas opened the passenger door. “Unless I am mistaken, this violates Rule Three, Subsection Three of the ‘Official Rules for Shotgun,’’ Cas mused as he got in. Dean had to laugh. They’d drilled Cas on the rules of shotgun for fifty miles on the trip out and damned if he didn’t remember each of them.

“Yeah, prolly, but the giraffe clause can be superseded by the long haul exemption,” Sam chimed in from the backseat.

“Yes, I can understand why,” Cas replied, more to his coffee than to either Dean or Sam.

After they pulled back out onto the highway, Dean stretched in place, settling into comfortable highway driving, and leaned on the gas enough to hear Baby rev ever so slightly. “Hey Cas, want to pick a tape so we can tune out Sleeping Beauty’s snoring?” Dean’s smile reached his eyes when he looked over and caught Cas’ gaze.

Nodding, Cas opened the glove box and began sorting through cassettes. Dean enjoyed the careful, methodical way that Cas went about mundane tasks; he picked up each tape delicately, holding it aloft to catch the handwritten title in the light of passing cars, returning it to a neat stack when he wasn’t satisfied with his option. It was a reminder of Cas’ ethereal origins, different somehow from the hurried, clumsy way Dean typically did things like this.

“This will do,” Cas said as he ejected Led Zeppelin II and replaced it with one of Dean’s old mix tapes.

Nothing about this day was out of the ordinary. It hadn’t been particularly mundane or chaotic or exciting, but Dean could feel a sense of nostalgia washing over him. It was often the little, seemingly inconsequential moments like these that became his most cherished memories. Sam was asleep in the backseat, the soft sounds of his breathing a reassuring presence. Cas was staring out the window at the ever-darkening horizon of green patchwork farmland, nodding along to Rush’s ‘Spirit of Radio.’ They were heading home whole and successful after a job.

And it was in that moment that Dean realized he was in love.

The words coursed through him, sending tingles through his limbs and his heart galloping around his chest. Love.

Dean didn’t often feel at peace; his life had made sure of that. The memories of Hell, of Purgatory, of the shit they’d seen and ganked chief among them were enough to keep even a jaded hardass like him awake at night. And then there had been the other stuff: Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Pam, even Benny. And so, Dean relished in the rare occasion that he felt at ease.

Dean flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, loosening the joints and jumpstarting the blood flow. A few months back, he’d been staking out a vamp nest for what seemed like forever. While he waited impatiently, he’d remembered that he’d lifted a few books from the Sonoma County Library. He’d pulled one from under the seat at random, more intent to have something to fiddle with than read, but he’d gotten sucked into ‘Invisible Monsters’ pretty quick. Even once he was back at the motel, he’d ended up staying awake until daylight reading. One line had stuck with him. “The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.” That sentiment struck a chord in the ever-present background noise of his self-loathing and he found himself reiterating it in his head from time to time.

In the privacy of his own thoughts, Dean had often wondered how this electric charge between him and Cas would resolve itself. Cas was his best friend, someone who he needed and trusted, and Dean had never been in a mindset to risk losing that for a ‘what if.’ All of the pieces that came with these feelings were messy. He’d practiced bits of these talks to himself. ‘Would you stay?’ ‘I’m bisexual, I guess.’ ‘Please don’t leave.’ ‘I need you.’ ‘Would it be okay if I loved you?’ Not that he’d had the nerve to risk saying them outloud.

And yet, there were these moments that fed the butterflies Dean was doomed to carry in his ribcage. They’d always shared knowing glances, it was fifty percent of their communication. They had always been tuned to one another in a fight, on a hunt. Dean had never been certain if it was just their ‘profound bond’ forged in Hell and acuminated in Purgatory or something more. Usually, he would diffuse the tension with inappropriate humor. It was always easier to say things half in jest, all in seriousness.

Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was still enthralled with the passing countryside. Before he could look away, Cas turned and caught his eye, a warm look of contentment written all over his face. Dean didn’t miss the whisper of a sigh or the careful uptick of Cas’ mouth when he smiled. Love.

When Dean reached over with his right hand, setting it firmly on Cas’ thigh just above his knee, he wasn’t plagued with indecision. He wasn’t cycling though self-loathing worst-case-scenarios. It just seemed like the right time. There was something simple about this moment, this day, that gave him confidence.

Cas let out a contented sigh, and overlaid Dean’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. Dean gave him a little reassuring squeeze and Cas scooted a little closer to him on the bench seat, getting comfortable. It doesn’t have to be hard.

With his free hand, Cas fussed with the stereo, skipping the songs he clearly knew were next. Satisfied, Cas leaned back into the seat, ran his hand up the length of Dean’s arm a few times, then settled back into holding his hand against his leg while the Impala’s aging speakers played Bon Jovi and Cas hummed along. Wo-ah, we're halfway there, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer, Take my hand, we'll make it I swear, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer.

At a rundown Flying J at the edge of Sioux Falls, Dean circled the Impala to hang up the pump when Cas walked up behind him, arms laiden with water bottles and cans of Red Bull. Dean sidestepped to open the passenger door for Cas who rewarded him with a blushing smile.

“You’re lucky to have such a gentleman,” mused an elderly woman at the next pump, giving Cas a huge grin.

“Thank you,” Cas returned her smile. “Yes, I agree. I am quite fortunate.”

From the backseat, Dean could see Sam barely suppressing an overjoyed smile. Smug bastard. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he murmured.

Sam gave up his self control, laughing audibly and gave Dean an encouraging smile. “You deserve this,” he said simply.

#spnstayathome #destiel #dean winchester x castiel #friends to lovers #fluff #shameless fluff #prompt response #sam ships it #x posted #cross posted

102 notes · View notes

curioussubjects · 5 years

Text

come be a season 12 truther, baby, with me

In honor of tonight’s Berens/Glynn episode (!!!!), I’d like to take y’all on a magical journey in which I share why I think Dean and Cas got together in season 12.

Keep in mind that this post takes for granted that Dean and Cas are in love with each other and that their relationship has been increasingly coded as romantic with each passing season. Consequently, what this post does is point out some key moments in their relationship and argue why they don't get together before 12. I'll also go briefly over 13 and 14 for reasons I'll explain later in the post. First, though, let me go over seasons 4 through 11, with some pit stops along the way:

Seasons 4 & 5: this isn’t the destiel you are looking for. the ust is delicious, yes, and i, too, got sucked in posthaste immediately groped by an angel lj community style. At this point Cas is still too alien for anything beyond the development we see on screen happen. HOWEVER, season 5 is the first time we get to see Cas being human (The End) and Cas being less connected to heaven and how that affects his behavior. This will matter.

Seasons 6 & 7: the pining omg the pining. The notable things I want to point out with these seasons is a. this is the beginning of Cas doing things to spare Dean and it not ending well (Cas dies #1, soulless!Sam); b. Dean is v. sad; and c. we also start noticing the emotional toll of Cas’s divided loyalties and how human he has actually become since s4. Hurty feels all around.

Season 8: purgaytory babes aw yeah! Still lots of terrible awful pining. This is a turning point with the addition of the bunker as tfw hq: we have a home in play now, a static emotional center. Cas is still off doing his own thing, Dean still wishes Cas would just let him (+ Sam) help out. Cas going off on his own leads to disaster #2 (Angels fall, Cas loses his Grace). For all deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much of a gap between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 & slaughtering angels & leviathan. On the other hand, we do see Dean being more emotionally open, but to no avail. Bad timing. This is a trend. [oop also worth noting we get Dean being kinda done with the one night stand thing because always with the adios and ahem also hint hint Cas refusing to stay put]

Seasons 9 & 10: aka Dean and Cas make bad decisions, but mostly Dean. The biggest turning point here is Cas being human for an extended period of time. There is still plenty of spec over the effects of being human on Cas’s Grace and his Soul. What we can say for sure, though, is that Cas is much more human once he becomes an angel again. In contrast to s8, s9 sees Cas being vulnerable and Dean pushing him away (first because of Gadreel, which he didn’t want to do really and that’s even sadder kdjfgksdfj & later because he was pushing everyone away due to the mark).

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait: there’s been so much amazing fic and spec about this episode with its fanfiction gap, but I can’t see a deancas get together here, folks. I know, it’s terrible. The lying from Dean and the hurt from Cas, imo, make the distance between them quite insurmountable at this point. While the episode is amazing (Bobo’s debut, too! So ♥) and has some notorious subtext throughout, I just can’t see the character bridging that gap into anything physical, much less emotional. Nevertheless, this episode does show perhaps the first intentional romantic tableaux with Dean and Cas, and that’s not nothing.

10.16 Paint it Black: from the point Dean gets the mark of cain until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible. But one of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. For one, it’s a rare bit of emotional honesty from Dean and for two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the thing between them, it’s still uncharted waters. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession, so we can put a pin on it:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. [...] Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. [...] Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more, which all culminates in season 11, so...

Season 11: The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Luci (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems and by the end of the season we’re getting a clean slate. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. What this season does that is also super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby: Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? The convo between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development in on of the things Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That's awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we're lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don't . . . Ever want something more? DEAN: I'm sorry, have you met us? We're batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don't ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But . . . Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

Compare this exchange with what we get from 11.11 and 11.19:

11.11 Into the Mystic: I’m bringing this episode as a crossreference to 10.16 and to show again that for all the closeness between Dean and Cas there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin'...If there's one thing I've learned in all my years on the road, it's when somebody's pining for somebody else. [...] Oh, don't try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters: Continuing our trek regarding Dean wanting certain things we have this gift of an episode with Jesse and Cesar, and this exchange:

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point in retrospect, after getting smacked by the domesticity of 13 and 14. Under the cut because I can’t shut up, and things are long enough as is.

Season 12: Finally, the promise land, y’all. So, what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. Important to keep in mind that until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala.

12.10 Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You): Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it.

Offscreen happenings: Mixtape, how Cas knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow. This is hella suspicious.

12.19 The Future: This episode changes everything, y’all (bobo and meredith, folks, bobo and meredith ksjdhfakjshlfksd). Consider watching this episode again and pay attention to some weird things: 1. Dean’s reaction to Cas going awol. Compare it to Sam’s, who is like whoa Dean chill. Now, thought experiment, imagine something happened between Dean and Cas, and then just radio silence from Cas. Imagine how Dean would react with getting ghosted by Cas specifically after something happened between them. 2. Cas comes back to the bunker with the specific goal of stealing the Colt, which he already knew was under Dean’s pillow -- something Sam didn’t even know. 3. “He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But Cas clearly knew where the Colt was already, which means something happened before Cas came back to the bunker. Cas played Dean in seeming to have reconsidered not working with Sam and Dean wrt Kelly. This is still a point of drama, but it leads somewhere else (see s13 & s15). 4. WHEN DID DEAN GIVE CAS THAT MIXTAPE OMG 5. Dean and Cas’s brief convo in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together -- because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth.

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him -- Dean is clearly shook by it -- Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) -- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow -- ???? -- Cas goes awol -- Dean acts like he got ghosted by his partner.

Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But ymmv, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

Ok, maybe the narrative is still too subtle (?????), but as I said before, looking at 12 with the knowledge of 13 and 14 does offer a new perspective because of the difference in dynamic between Dean and Cas. I know lots of people look at 14, mainly, as having dialed back on the destiel side of things, but I always thought that was a strange take. Largely because they’re so domestic and their dynamic, ie, the lack of tension, reads like an established relationship. It’s a different kind of beast than we have been used to so far, so it does look alien on screen, especially since we “skipped” the conventional getting together cue that would let us change gears. Let’s take a look at 13 and 14, then.

Season 13: Ah, yes, the season of shit gets domestic. The pining? Gone? What? Deancas now reading like an established couple? It’s more likely than you think.

13.1-13.5: Dean’s grief mini-arc. Dude’s acting like a widower. We all know this. I want to gesture towards the reunion moment though with “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.6 Tombstone: hi this episode is pure love and Dean is so happy his sweetheart is back from the dead? He’s even ok being Jack’s third dad now? What a time to be alive. Also? apparently Dean and Cas were just having movie night together? Dates? Mutual Pining dates prior to shit going to hell in 12? Do you ever cry? What else are they getting up to offscreen? What else will they get up to off screen? MUCH TO THINK ABOUT.

Season 14: MORE DOMESTICITY. With some pining because Michael. But...heart eyes when Dean comes back? Watch that scene again with Dean going off to shower. Suspicious. But then shit hits the fan and we’re all sad again. boo.

14.15 Peace of Mind: Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t coupley asf.

14.18-14.20: Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established issue between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here; he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? Divorce arc was entirely too literal.

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will they or won’t they because they already have. The tension is instead will they or won’t they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. There’s a crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned TWELVE FRIGGIN’ EPISODES. Y’all. Y’all that’s half a season. And we’re not even entirely done with it yet because Dean was cut short in purgatory, and they haven’t dealt with Cas’s side of blame in this mess yet either -- that Cas keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. And, you know, that’s a whole lot more exciting than witnessing their for realsies first kiss. I’m also confident Dabb & co will deliver the conclusion to this emotional arc and it will be a whole mess of feelings on all our parts.

For the moment, though, it’s looking a lot like Dean and Cas had a rocky start to their ~involvement, then DEATH, then they got together feat. sweet sweet domestic fluff, then DIVORCE. So, yeah. Season 12, guys; it’s where it’s at.

As for the more performative aspect of Dean and Cas’s relationship…that’s a whole other thing and all I can say is they got the green light for something, but I don’t know what it is and it’s driving me bananas, but it’s definitely something and we can talk about that, too. Place your bets, etc. I’m clowning on the “I love you” pay off because it’s a glaring missing piece in this whole story. See also: holding hands? Carving Cas’s initials on the table? Saileen endgame parallels? All supported by the narrative. Like a lot. So. *finger guns*

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #spn #spn meta #my writing #one day i'll title my posts after things that aren't questionable songs #but today is not that day #this post has strong ship manifesto from the late 00's vibes #i miss those things they were handy

52 notes · View notes

queencatherynerhys · 4 years

Text

The Fighter - Chapter 8

A/N: I’ve had this published in Wattpad for a while now. I just have been too lazy to publish it here. Sorry. I just got back into being active this week when editing my Masterlist.

Summary: Another attack shakes the palace grounds. Can Scarlet fight them off and protect her prince?

Tags: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @blznbaby @trashbagfullofflannels @bella-ca @highlyselectiveextrovert *I just used my usual tag list. Let me know if you want to be taken off if you don’t want to receive notifications about this story. Also let me know if you want to be added.*

"I apologize, Amer –," Maxon's mention of America paralyzes me to my core. My breathing halts. My heart beat pounds in my ears as my nervousness rise. I spend all energy to keep my facial expression as neutral and empty as I can. Has he figured out who I am? Was it really that easy? What gave me away? My physical features or the way I have acted when he was around? Will he change his view of me? Will he continue to hate me? All these questions swim around my brain so fast that I get dizzy.

A panic attack threatens to grow from deep within me and I fight to suppress it. I control my staggered breathing trying to regain prevent myself from spiraling.

"Are you alright?" as if my hearing unclogs, I hear Maxon speak to me.

I don't respond. I couldn't.

"I apologize. I was about to call you America. It's just...you remind me so much of her. The sound of your voice even sounds like hers, but I know that can't be. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my childish behavior. I don't know what has come over me. I guess ever since you told me that, Ame-, shewas dead I haven't been thinking clearly."

I internally sigh with earned relief that he didn't recognize who I am. This was too close. I can't give him any hint of detection. If he finds out, I can't protect him.

He continues to talk, and I try to pay attention, "Although, forgive me, but I am having a hard time trying to picture how you and...her...would've come across each other. I don't see you, how do they say it, hanging out with the same crowd?"

"You're right. We led completely different lives, so I understand."

"So?"

I cross my arms and quirk my brows in response, confused at his inquiry.

"Sorry, I thought I was pretty clear that I was asking how you met."

Oh. That. I guess I should have known he would keep asking about her. If I answer his question, it would lead to the topic of her death. My love for him wishes to spare him the pain, but I know he would only keep asking and the unknowing will only tear him apart from the inside out and so against my better judgment I tell him my cover story.

"America and I met while we were both being held deep within a Southerner's Rebel Camp."

Maxon's warm brown eyes widen as the words fell out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I was captured during a rebel attack. I was carried and held in their camp for what seemed like months. I would not have survived that...experience... if weren't for the companionship I built with her during our time there. We thought we were going to never make it out alive. Over the course of our stay there, we got to know each other very well. She shared of her time here and I of my career and my agency," I recall the rehearsed story the Force made for America's death.

"Was...was she...tortured?" his question takes me by surprise. I didn't expect such a forward question.

"Do you really want to know?" I sincerely asks as I lean forward to look closer at him, gauging an answer from his beautiful orbs. He doesn't answer my curiosity, but I can tell from his body language that he really wanted to know even if he knew it might be painful to hear the "truth".

"Yes, she was," I whisper reverently. It's the truth. Scarlet is America, and America is Scarlet. Scarlet was tortured during her time with the rebels.

Maxon's hand fly to his mouth and his eyes water. Tears threaten to spill, but he holds them back. Afraid to show his vulnerability in front of me.

"It's ok to cry. It's ok to grieve for what you have lost," I reassure him that there's nothing wrong about what he's feeling.

"It's my fault. Her death is my fault. Six years ago, I let my anger get the best of me. The rebels attacked and because of my resentment I didn't pay attention to her. I didn't want to worry about her. I didn't want to feel anything for her. I thought she betrayed me when I saw her with that guard. If I didn't let my pride consume me, I wouldn't have been so blind, so careless. I would have protected her. I wouldn't have let her be captured," the cries he tries so hard to keep within fall and the pain and the guilt shakes his frame. All I wanted to do was to reach out and comfort, to cry and tell him that it was a lie. I am still alive. I am still fighting for him.

"You know, the last thing I hear every night is the sound of her screaming my name?" he sniffles and my heart shatters furthermore. I'm so sorry, Maxon. "I tried so hard to find her through the chaos before the guards dragged me off to the safe room. When the dust cleared, and no one found her, I knew the worse has happened. I just didn't want to accept it. I guess it was easier to hate her than admit to my shame and guilt."

"She loved you to the very end, you know. Every time she spoke of her time here, she would only recall of her memories of you. You should know that she died a hero. She died saving me. When the agency has finally traced my whereabouts, she sacrificed herself so I could escape. Her blood is on my hands, too," I continue with a lie.

"She did tell me to tell you that the only thing that she ever wanted was your happiness. She wanted you to live a long, happy life," those statements were the truth. Everything I have done in the last six years was so that he can have a happy life.

As if the universe demanded that I prove the statement, a loud, rattling explosion shakes the palace. A distinct shift goes off in my internal mind. At the moment, I'm no longer the director but the fighter.

I don't stay behind to see what Maxon does. I trust that he will follow protocol and do what he has always done and run to a safe room.

"Where are you going? We need to get to a safe room," he yells. His voice gradually gets fainter as I run towards the danger. I know exactly who it is and what, or who, they are coming for and I am not going to let them succeed. I exit the dining room and stop at the base of the grand staircase.

James finds me and I nod telling him that I'm ready. I pull out my gun that's hidden in my back and switch the safety off. Palace guards run about taking staff to their respective safe bunkers. Some immediately take defensive positions to protect.

Their training is such stark contrast to my agents. We aren't trained to wait for the fight. We run towards. We fight to eliminate threats, quickly and aggressively. On cue, Liam runs up with Alicia, Jake and Sam trailing behind him.

"What do you want us to do, Scarlet?" Liam speaks up.

"Follow me," and we sprint towards the front door. When we get outside, we can see the silhouette of a heavy, armored truck coming through the steel iron gates and speedily going down the very, long driveway. A hostile stick out from the roof and launches another grenade with a rocket launcher, exploding 300 feet away from where we stand.

I say a silent prayer that the reinforcement came in from Fennley this morning. We have more guards, more weapons and a motorcycle. I come up with a plan, a stupid one that might end up getting me killed, but a plan nonetheless. I can't let that convoy reach the palace. I look at James' green eyes and speak to him, conveying my plan with our silent communication.

I have a plan. You got this? I tilt my head in the direction of the young agents.

He nods his head in agreement, I'll have your back.

I tuck my gun back in my waistband and I was about to run to the motorcycle, I hear the shuffle of boots. I glance back quickly to find several guards abandoning their defensive tactics and taking post in front of the palace doors. And I also see someone I didn't expect. Maxon.

What the hell is he doing out here?! And why aren't the guards dragging him out of the line of fire and into the safe room.I didn't have time to think about it since the enemies are getting closer by the second.

Since the moment I got to the castle, my emotions and thoughts have been in haywire and frenzy about facing the royals again and being in the same room as Maxon. But right now, as I am running toward the motorcycle to execute my dumb idea I feel at peace, I feel confident. I know my purpose. I know what to do in this situation. I have only one goal in mind: neutralize.

I ignite the motorcycle and under the growl of the engine, I hear Maxon's voice, "What in the world is she doing?" What am I doing? I'm doing what I do best. My job.

The bike lurches forward and I race to meet the oncoming vehicles. I see the enemy appear on the roof of the steel-cladded truck again aiming the launcher towards me and I swerve left and right to avoid the explosives.

My brown hair and black leather jacket whip behind me and my vision becomes narrowed. My heart beat quickens and my grip on the handlebars get tighter. The convoy stops ahead of me and well-equipped enemies file out of the fortified truck.

I close my eyes and downshift the motorcycle as I let go, ready and focused only one thing: fight.

#the selection #the selection series #the elite #the one #maxon #maxon schreave #america #america schreave #maxon x america #maxerica #kiera cass #romance #hurt #angst

10 notes · View notes

hellhoundlair · 1 year

Text

sam having an accident and cas having to possess an injured sam to save him at one point (expecting sam to make him leave the second hes conscious again) but when he wakes up hes all :( stay :( pls? its lonely by myself :( so cas stays. kind of out of guilt. and sam confides in him more and more about his insecurities and his demon-ness before it starts to get a little weird and sams depending on him too much and cas goes to tell sam he is going to leave because its whats best for sam at this stage. and sam refuses. sam has LOTS of experience w being possessed so maybe hed be better at taking control over the possessor? maybe hed be able to keep cas in the backseat and pretend to be him to assure dean that everythings fine. and maybe we find out in the end that sams accident wasnt an accident at all and hes been obsessing over being possessed again for a long, long time

#going thru old posts and making my tags from those posts into posts bc i put GOOD SHIT in the tags #and it pisses me off bc theyre unrebloggable :D #evil sastiel >:)

20 notes · View notes

sastielsfandom · 5 years

Text

Road Trip, Season Nine, Episode Ten (Part 1)

I was rewatching Road Trip and unlike the first time I watched this episode, I was watching a bit closer. What caught me off guard was Cas. I mean Dean was also throwing me off as well, but for the majority of season nine, Dean confused me with his actions.

If you haven’t watched season nine yet, or haven’t made it to episode ten of season nine, I don’t recommend reading this, there’s a lot of spoilers.

Also fair warning, I may be overanalyzing this episode too much. So perhaps some points might have been accidental, but I still included them since I found evidence to back up my point. Also, any interpretation is valid in its own way, this is simply a deduction from this particular episode.

Now, despite the fact that Sam and Cas don’t interact until the end of the episode, and Gadreel was controlling Sam for the majority of the episode, I found a lot of Sastiel feeling moments. Of course, you can read this without thinking of it as being romantic, but platonic I don’t mind doing what you want with my analysis of this episode. If you disagree with it or want to add on to this, feel free to.

My main point of this is showing how protective Cas was in this episode. To showcase how important Sam is to Cas, and how Cas tends to show this a lot more when Sam isn’t around. With all that said and done, let’s get started.

The episode starts off with an incredibly emotional Dean who is dealing with Kevin’s death. I am not surprised that he feels guilty, and is getting prepared for revenge. I am surprised that he is willing to kill the imposter in Sam after going through a lot to prevent Sam from being hurt in the first place.

That’s not my focus though, my focus is Cas and how he is responding to this information. (One day I plan on doing a deep dive with Dean, not this episode but an analysis of Dean and how he copes. But as for now, we’re focusing on Cas.)

As Cas comes in, back in his usual attire looking better than he did at the end of episode nine, the mess surrounding Dean is quite eye-catching. Which prompts Cas to ask what had happened, which Dean does get into a sit-down.

I believe Cas had an inkling that this was going to be a heavy discussion, Dean was not only alone, but packing items that aren’t used for a typical hunt, such as an angel blade, and the tablet that Kevin has been attached to since he became a prophet.

The next scene is panned to the two finishing the conversation, where Cas is being understanding and apologizes to Dean for his troubles. The conversation they did have was about Dean letting an angel into Sam’s vessel in order to save Sam without his consent. In consequence of this, the angel had lied to Dean and took over Sam’s body, sadly leading to Kevin’s death. One that Dean takes full blame for, which we’ll discuss again, but for now, I’ll move on.

While Cas is being respectful, understanding, and as supportive as he could be, Dean is being the opposite. Dean is quite snappy, emotional, regretful, and angry, not quite the opposite of Cas but is quite different from Cas.

For example, Cas is apologizing with what I believe a bit of guilt (he is the one who told Dean Ezekiel was a trustworthy angel, unknown to him though Ezekiel had passed during the fall.) and Dean’s response was, “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills now does it?”

No matter Dean’s attitude, this isn’t what worries Cas. His demeanor stays relatively the same during this conversation until Cas asks a question about the identity of this angel, in hopes Dean knows. The shift is when Dean answers Cas with, “Dead man walking.”

The tone, expression, and pace of the scene all change. This first photo is before any major flags are raised, it’s where he is apologizing to Dean as a matter of fact. They’re both sitting, the conversation is more hesitant leaving the flow to be much slower, and the expressions are much more somber and apologetic.

As for the second photo, the shock is quite present, the conversation picks up as they begin to somewhat argue, and you can hear anger, and disbelief in Castiel’s voice. Cas even pushes in a more mocking manner, “What are you going to destroy him?” This is incredibly far fetched to Cas, this is supposed to be the man who went to Hell for his brother, and is the reason angels began to engage with humanity again, is now going to murder his brother as a solution to avenge Kevin? I can easily understand why Cas doesn’t believe this, as I was thinking along the same lines.

All it took was two words for Castiel to realize how serious, and far gone Dean is right now, and if he doesn’t help argue for Sam’s sake, the next hunter funeral will be Sam’s. “Damn right.”

Even as he begins to warn Dean, “If you kill an angel the vessel dies too.” Which flowed out of his mouth way quicker than his question about who the angel who is currently controlling Sam. keeping with my point of the shift in pace. My evidence for his facial expressions shifting are the two photos below:

While this interaction has been quite serious since Cas had walked in, the reality of the situation is now hitting Cas. Which you can see in these photos. I have to praise Misha for conveying masterfully.

Dean who has been standing since Cas apologized turned around for this, although I’m not showing or talking much about Dean’s (or Jensen’s) obvious turmoil in this scene it should be noted that he’s been moving around, turning away from Cas, which I feel makes it easier on the two to discuss this. With that said, Dean turned around to tell Cas, “You think I don’t know that?” Almost scolding Cas for his obvious statement, which in turn has Cas looking down almost like or is shame showing by his eye contact drop to the table briefly during Dean’s attention.

I like this shift between these two photos. The first photo is similar to a scolded child while the second one is someone gaining or trying to gain confidence for what is about to be said. Another thing I would like to note is Cas licking his lips in the second photo.

I missed this small action several times, and there is the possibility Misha isn’t aware of this movement, but as I said before, I am interpreting this how I perceived it, and I do have some logical evidence to back up this note, so even if this is a stretch it has evidence.

There are three main reasons people lick their lips, two obvious, more well-known reasons are chapped lips, and sexual intentions/desires.

I am aware of Misha and in default Castiel, appear to have chapped lips frequently, therefore the first reason could fit; however, I see lips that would not need to be licked for moisture. Debunking this reason completely, unless you want to argue habit but even to that I would say it’s not frequent enough to be a strong rebuttal.

Moving onto the next possibility, sexual intent. As much as some people want me to say this is, in fact, the case, I can’t see it being so. Regardless what people seem to believe, there is a lot of evidence, such as this episode, that disproves the theory that Cas only cares about Dean or an even worse theory that Castiel’s drive to help Sam is only done as a way to “woo” Dean, or “please” him. It is quite obvious Cas cares for Sam and would rather not see him dead, he is one of the people who helped revive Sam, it would be backward for him to forget Sam and decide to “pounce” on Dean in this moment of vulnerability. It also doesn’t fit the scene at all. Perhaps if they were talking about a lighter subject and have shared some banter I could possibly see this being Castiel’s way of trying to progress their friendship into something more, but this isn’t a lighter scene, and Cas’ sex drive at this moment is more likely to be nonexistent as would Dean’s be.

Leaving me with the third, Cas is self-soothing himself. From the expression, context, and knowledge of where this conversation progresses, I would say this is the strongest contender. This also won’t be the only time we see a moment where Cas is possibly using a self-soothing technique.

Going back to the photo and the theory of becoming courageous, it makes sense that while you are trying to be courageous you’ll have nerves you’ll want to repress. Subconsciously or not. Meaning, the expression matches.

Does it fit the context? Yes, this is a tense conversation between two close friends talking about the possible demise of another friend/brother which they would be responsible for. Self-soothing is a must to push through this conversation.

With the expression and context matching, it leaves the knowledge of progression. Does this still fit? Once again, it does. Not only does Cas argue with Dean, but Cas also shows another moment where he appears to be soothing himself again. This conversation doesn’t dwindle down for a bit and the tension doesn’t leave this episode. It carries through for a while. Even without the knowledge of what occurs next, this action fits with self-soothing the best.

Back to my main points, as Cas has times to think and soothe himself to a degree, Dean is at a breaking point, both mournful and angry he explains his side which is, “If I don’t end Sam...And that halo burns him out and I…” Dean gives Cas a look of you know where this ends and what I mean.

Cas seems to once again be battling with himself. It’s not that he doesn’t understand why Dean is planning to kill his brother, it's that he can’t accept the idea. Cas has never been able to accept the idea once he considered Sam his friend. Which was established early on when Anna was still alive and proposed Sam’s death as a solution. (Once again, I’m amazed at the emotion Misha can show with subtly it doesn’t show as much as it does in motion, but you can still see it.)

Dean with his head down admits, “I was so damn stupid.” You can see the moment, where Cas is ready to say his piece and literally rises to it by standing up. Take into consideration that this these next few photos, Cas is standing to tell Dean, “You were stupid for the right reasons.”

His mix of emotions stays relatively the same however, confidence is added onto the layer of emotions. Further proving my previous note. Despite the fact he called Dean stupid, it isn’t will ill intent and is said in a gentle like manner. Cas could have exploded, insulted Dean with ill intent. Instead, he is staying in a calm tone while he tries to reason with Dean.

Dean doesn’t take into account, in his own self-pity which is plenty understandable, as he says, “Yeah, like that matters.”

There is more to this episode, this is only six minutes in, but it is the end of part one due to Tumblr’s limitations. As I warned before this is going to be a long segment.

#SPN Road Trip #Road Trip #SPN 9x10 #9x10 #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Gadreel #Sam Winchester #Sastiel #Samstiel #Sastiel Analysis

33 notes · View notes

tibbinswrites · 5 years

Note

Yi! I am the anon who requested 16 and 77. You could do angst but with a happy ending?

Hi Anon! I did it! Finally xD sorry you had to wait so long. I might have more time on my hands but that doesn’t mean I always spend it wisely, or that my brain wants to cooperate when I tell it to make a story.

Man, I really love this prompt. You picked a gooden. I won’t officially pair it with prompt 16 because I’ve already used that number (though I did add a kiss in it for you ;))

Warning for mentions of suicide (no one named, no details, just mentioned).

I hope you like it ^_^

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #77, #78, #170 and #502

I also have 3 prompts waiting for: #20, #33 and an addition to #170 so if you send me a new one in be prepared to wait a while!

77. You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin’ slow. And as I pulled you tighter I swore I’d never let you go. (Point Blank)

Sam and Dean had been gone for almost two weeks now. Cas wasn’t worried, they checked in on a daily basis with updates and requests for lore and questions about how Jack was settling back in so he knew they were okay. They were hunting something with some kind of mind altering tendencies, whether a djinn, wraith, witch or something else was yet to be determined but it had killed six people. The victims had complained of nightmares a few days before their deaths. Suicides, all of them, and not clean. The thing was proving difficult to track down, it didn’t seem to have a preference of victims, man or woman, old or young. Different ethnicities and social circles, there didn’t seem to be anything that linked them. Cas could sense their frustration, but no, he wasn’t worried.

He did miss them however, especially Dean. Jack was good company; they played board games and Cas taught him some of the basics of fighting with a blade, just in case he was ever faced with an enemy while he couldn’t use his powers. They watched Netflix together, the brightly-coloured modern cartoons that Sam and Dean scoffed at and Jack asked him questions about angels and monsters and lore of all kinds, but there was always a certain level of separation to it, in the way he understood that there had to be between parents and their children and there were less jokes than when the Winchesters were around, less laughter. Cas wasn’t very good at jokes. His dry humour would sometimes get a snort or a small chuckle, but that was the extent of it. He didn’t have Dean’s ability to goof around and act the fool, nor did he have Sam’s quick tact in knowing where to poke to cause a laugh rather than offence. Jack wasn’t very good at jokes either though, so they rubbed along quite well together.

It was on the twelfth morning that Sam called for the second time that day and when Cas looked at the phone he knew something had gone wrong.

“What happened?” He demanded without preamble.

“Dean had a nightmare.” Sam’s voice was tight and worried, “A bad one.”

Cas frowned. “That’s not too unusual. Unless you think…”

“The thing got him. Yeah.”

“So you have… what? Less than two days until he becomes a suicide risk?”

“Yeah.”

Cas clenched his jaw, reached his free hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not far away, I can be there-”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “I don’t want Jack anywhere near this thing and you can’t leave him alone right now. You need to stay where you are. We’ll figure this out.”

“But-”

“I know,” Sam said, and he really did sound apologetic. “Trust me, I’d rather have you here too. But we have Jack to look after and I’m not actually sure you coming here would help Dean. I mentioned you before and he just kind of… froze up.”

“He did?” Cas frowned at the far wall, that didn’t make any sense.

“Yeah. And he got this look… I think his nightmare was about you, or had you in it or something. Of course, I don’t know because he won’t talk to me but… It might be best you stay away for now. I’ll keep you posted.”

Cas sighed, biting down on his instinct to run to the garage and grab a set of keys. With his failing grace there was no guarantee he’d be able to do something so complex as break a curse or purge a venom or completely undo a biological reaction#. There were certain intricacies involved and he wasn’t certain he had the strength. The brothers could still fix this on their own, they still had time.

“Alright.” He conceded. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours. But after that I’m coming to meet you. I can’t just sit here and wait for that call.” His voice wobbled a little at the end as his imagination ran wild. But it wasn’t just the thought of Dean taking his own life that terrified him… selfishly it was the idea that Cas needed to see him again, that he couldn’t let the last memory he had of Dean be one where he’d walked away.

“That’s fair.” Sam agreed, and Cas could picture him running a hand through his hair, the way he did when he was stressed and worried. “But it won’t be needed. We’ll fix this. We’ll kill the thing and it’ll be fine.”

“Get Dean to make a list of everyone he met or bumped into yesterday,” Cas said in lieu of something reassuring. He had complete faith in the brothers, knew that they were more than capable hunters, that Sam at least would do whatever it took to save Dean, but there was still a tiny kernel in his brain that whispered what if he can’t this time, and Cas knew that it wouldn’t go away until the danger had passed.

The rest of the phone call was tense and perfunctory, but once he hung up, not being able to hear Sam’s concern actually alleviated his own. The danger wasn’t immediate yet and he trusted them to find a solution fast.

Xxx

It took them until the next morning. Cas was sitting with Jack and they were talking over bowls of cereal with the kind of sugar content that always made Sam purse his lips. Jack hadn’t seemed overly concerned about Dean when Cas told him what had happened; apparently he had the same confidence in the Winchesters that Cas did, and his surety was comforting.

The phone rang and even though Cas was sure nothing was wrong, that this was just Sam’s daily update on the situation, his spoon went clattering back into the bowl, splattering milk everywhere as he jumped to answer it.

“Sam?” He said. His voice did not tremble.

“We got it.” Sam’s voice was pure relief. “Witch. We’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Cas sighed heavy and cleansing. The expression on his face must have told Jack everything he needed to know because he smiled, gave a thumbs up and went back to his cereal.

“I’m glad,” Cas said. “Dean’s alright?”

“Yeah, the curse has broken.” Sam hesitated then, and his voice dropped like Dean was close by and he didn’t want him to overhear. “But it was real tough on him. Sent him into some kind of waking nightmare. Screaming fit, something. So he might not want to celebrate or anything when we get back.”

Which was code for ‘don’t be offended if Dean locks himself in his room for the next three days.’

“Of course. It’ll just be good to have you home. See you soon, Sam.”

“Bye, Cas.”

Cas placed the phone down and smiled as Jack munched on his cereal.

“They’re heading back. They should be here by noon.”

“Cool,” Jack said around his spoon. “I’m glad Dean’s okay.”

“Me too,” Cas agreed.

“I mean… I wasn’t exactly worried,” Jack continued, a slight furrow in his brow. “Is that wrong? I don’t know if it’s because of my soul or if I just knew they’d make it back.”

“The Winchesters do have an excellent record for making it through these kinds of situations,” Cas said carefully. “It’s not wrong to expect them to always make it back. It’s easy to feel like the danger isn’t real when we have all faced so much worse than a rogue witch. But many experienced hunters get killed on routine cases. The danger is always real, sometimes it’s just a matter of luck.”

“Or a matter of having your lives written out by God,” Jack said, a slight quirk to his mouth that Cas couldn’t help but mirror.

“Yes. I suppose knowing that Chuck has a specific plan for them makes it easier,” he said. “Knowing Him, if Sam or Dean dies on an ordinary case He’ll just resurrect them until they can play out His story. Or at least, their own story. They’ve never been good at following rules.”

Xxx

It had just gone midday when the door of the bunker clanged loudly, indicating the return of the brothers. Cas hurried to the war room to meet them. It was silly perhaps but he wanted to see Dean for himself, to make sure that he was alright. Dean shuffled behind Sam, his head down. He looked pale and wan, like he often did after the kind of nightmare that drew Cas into his room to try and soothe away. Clearly, whatever the witch had done to him was going to take more than a gas station burrito and a drive in the impala to get over. Sam looked like he needed a hot shower and a long nap. He nodded to Cas as he passed, clapping him on the shoulder. When Dean caught sight of him though he stopped halfway through a step. He seemed to forget that he was walking and began to tip forwards. Concerned, Cas stepped in to catch him and found himself with Dean’s arms around his neck and Dean’s smell in his nose and Dean’s mouth on his and his whole existence narrowed to just Dean, Dean, Dean.

Thoroughly overwhelmed by the whole situation, Cas decided that his best course of action was not to move so he stood there stiffly until Dean pulled back, only to bury his face in Cas’ shoulder instead and, in a move more terrifying than the wrath of God, began to sob.

“I killed you.” Dean’s voice was tiny and broken, barely audible, even to his ears. “I killed you and you let me and I had to burn you all over again.”

Cas didn’t know what to say. What would be the point in telling Dean that it was just a bad dream brought on by a curse? That it wasn’t real? Dean knew that, just as Cas had known that the room full of Deans that Naomi had made him kill weren’t real. That didn’t make the guilt any easier to carry. So instead he said nothing, raising his arms to fold them around Dean’s back, pulling him closer.

“I felt it,” Dean muttered against his neck. “It was so real. I had to, I just knew that I had to. But I don’t know why, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what happens, I know that I can’t do that again. I don’t care if the world burns.”

“I love you.” Cas whispered back, because for the first time it needed to be said. It had existed in the in-between spaces of their lives, of course, their love. Cas knew that Dean felt it too, knew it probably before Dean himself had accepted it. But Cas had let it exist without acknowledgement. He didn’t need a declaration and Dean wasn’t ready to make one. The feeling was enough.

Dean didn’t say it back, but Cas felt it in the way he clung on tighter, his fingers digging into his shoulder blades even through his trenchcoat and shirt. So Cas said it again, and again, his words the song forever playing in his mind, a symphony of feeling. So he began to rock Dean along to the sound, soothing and slow, patient and endless, and it was almost dancing, he thought, tightening his own hold. And as he did so, he knew that be it forty more years or four more minutes, Castiel would be content if he got to spend them holding Dean.

#prompts #prompt #supernatural #Destiel fanfic #spn fanfic #suicide mention cw #writing #TibbinsWrites #fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

javocjovian · 4 years

Text

The Best Medicine - SPN Prompt Challenge

I’m trying to participate in more challenges this year, so I’m doing the Supernatural Prompt Challenge for April/May! The overall theme was Health & Wellbeing. I chose Sastiel as my ship because it’s a pairing I love dearly but rarely think to write. I feel like they have the potential to have one of the healthiest relationships on the show (depending on the season of course).

Beta-ed by wearetheluckyones

Title: The Best Medicine [AO3] Summary: Castiel confuses Sam’s symptoms of depression with symptoms of the flu and tries to help. Set mid season 9. Rating: T Word Count: 1247 Tags: fluff, comfort, established Sastiel, depressed Sam, Castiel takes care of Sam, domestic fluff, misunderstandings Ship: Sastiel Written for @supernaturalpromptchallenge for the Prompt: Health & Wellbeing, Fever

(x)

The Best Medicine

Sam awoke to an empty bedroom. Despite getting a solid six hours of sleep he felt leaden and drained. He started his routine through pure muscle memory and was somewhat surprised to find himself showered and dressed twenty minutes later, staring into a foggy mirror.

The Men of Letters bunker was silent as Sam made coffee for one. It had been a week since Gadreel was evicted and Dean was left to shoulder the burden of his mistakes alone. Sam should’ve been angry. He should’ve made Dean stay. He should’ve forced him to see how absurd his leaving was and how little it would solve. But he didn’t.

Sam drank his coffee at the table alone. For a moment he basked in the solitude of himself, his own thoughts, his body purely and wholly his. But amidst that comfort was a loneliness that had nothing to do with Gadreel’s presence or lack thereof.

Sam heard the bunker door open above him. He recognized the footsteps and looked up in surprise.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel appeared at the railing. He was carrying several plastic bags.

“Cas, hey,” Sam gave a weak smile, trying to mask his relief.

Castiel descended the stairs and brought the bags to the kitchen. Sam got up to follow him. He watched curiously as Castiel began unpacking what looked like groceries.

“I thought you left,” Sam said.

Castiel glanced at him. For a moment he looked oblivious, but Sam’s determinedly casual tone seemed to have struck something in him, “You were asleep so I figured I would get some supplies. I should have left a note. I am sorry.”

Sam swallowed. “It’s no problem. Thanks for going out,” he said genuinely. He moved to the counter and began examining Castiel’s purchases. It was an odd assortment of things. The most normal item was a gigantic container or orange juice.

“That’s a lot of OJ,” Sam smiled in amusement.

“When I was human,” Castiel explained as he began putting things away, “I enjoyed drinking ‘oj’. I thought you might, too.”

Sam looked at him fondly. “Thanks, Cas.” He pulled another item from the bag.

“Oh, that… I had never heard of a ‘tofurky’, I’m not sure what kind of animal that is, but the women at the store assured me you would like it.”

Sam chuckled. He couldn’t help but imagine Castiel wandering aimlessly down the isles until a worker asked to help and surely regretted her decision when Castiel started asking questions like ‘what’s a tofurkey?’.

Sam grinned. “Dean’ll like that,” he joked. His grin faded quickly, however. He cleared his throat and continued unpacking while Castiel put everything away.

Castiel didn’t say anything. He didn’t bring up Dean anymore. He seemed to have admitted temporary defeat in trying to reunite the Winchesters and was now focused on the next more pressing issue.

The last few items gave Sam legitimate pause. He pulled from the bottom of the bag a bottle of children’s cough syrup and a few bottles of vitamins and assorted drugs. Sam sat down on a stool at the counter to examine it, then looked up at Castiel in confusion.

“Uh, what’s all this?”

Castiel sighed. “I’m sorry, but that was the most… appetizing flavor they had. Or at least the least disgusting.” He referred to the bottle of strawberry syrup Sam was holding. “I only got a mild strain of influenza when I was human, but that seemed to work.”

Sam stared at it in confusion. “Cas, I’m not sick.”

Castiel looked at him. “Sure you are,” he said matter-of-fact, then resumed putting things away. “I can sense it, Sam. Your molecules are all out of sorts.”

“My… what?”

“Your hippocampus is overflowing with cortisol, your amygdala is enlarged, you have some mild brain inflammation and hypoxia...” Castiel finished unpacking and moved over to Sam, who was staring at him in bewilderment from the kitchen stool. “...you’re obviously fatigued, and you have a f…” he placed his hand on Sam’s head as if to prove his crowning point, then paused, “oh.”

Sam stared at him.

Castiel withdrew his hand awkwardly. “Well, fevers do not always accompany influenza. It’s… good that you don’t have one.” He recovered.

Sam had gone quiet. “Cas, um…” he said patiently, although a trace of guilt weakened his voice.

Castiel watched him pick his words, standing motionless between Sam’s knees.

“Those aren’t symptoms of the flu,” Sam took a deep breath. “They’re symptoms of…depression. And grief.” Sam looked at Castiel, trying to keep his expression light.

Castiel’s certainty faltered at once. “Oh. Oh… I…” He looked at the cough syrup and bottles of pills. “I should not have assumed.”

“It’s okay, Cas. Really,” Sam cleared his throat, regaining some confidence. He set the syrup bottle back down and gave Castiel a small smile.

Castiel didn’t smile back. “Well, what do you take for depression, then? I did not see anything like that at the store.”

“Nothing. I mean, I don’t take anything. You can, but… I don’t think there’s treatment for the kind of stuff you and I have been through.”

The more Sam looked relieved, the more Castiel looked worried.

“How do you treat it then?”

“Me? Well, repression, mostly,” he smiled weakly. When Castiel just looked more worried, Sam added, “Time usually helps. A lot of it. And that's… that’s about it.”

Castiel looked crestfallen. “So there is nothing I can do to help?”

Sam studied him for a moment. His patient smile faded and he reached out and touched his arm. “You are helping, Cas. You’re helping a lot, actually.”

Castiel took Sam’s hand reflexively, still peering at him owlishly.

“You, being here, it’s better than any medicine,” Sam gave him a warm yet pained look and squeezed his hand.

Castiel didn’t move. He stood perfectly still between Sam’s knees, holding his hand and looking weary but determined. “Then I will not move from this spot until you are better.” He announced.

Sam blinked, then broke into a nature smile. “Cas, that’s not…”

His smile relieved Castiel’s stiffness. He suddenly realized Sam wasn’t being literal and abandoned his stony sentry, although he continued to look at Sam like a silent guardian. It was the most angelic Sam had ever seen him. Sam’s smile warmed and he leaned forward subtly. Castiel caught the gesture, as if he’d been waiting for it, then completed the motion, kissing Sam on the mouth.

It was a slow, silent kiss. It wasn’t so much of a kiss as it was a desire to be close. As the kiss faded and their lips fell away Sam turned his head and rested against Castiel, maintaining that closeness. He felt Castiel relax, like he always did as the human in him took over. He put an arm around Sam and held him close. His other arm hung by his side, still holding Sam’s hand.

“Hm,” Castiel hummed in interest.

“What is it?” Sam looked up at him.

“You were right. Your cortisol levels have dropped.”

Sam grinned and murmured, “Thanks Dr. Sexy.”

Castiel blinked as if to retort, but then smiled instead. It made him look startlingly human. “You’re welcome.”

Sam closed his eyes and kissed Castiel. He basked in Castiel’s presence, their shared thoughts, the space between them perfectly aligned and whole. Amidst that comfort was still the loneliness left in place of Dean, but Sam thought that with Castiel presence he could maybe handle it a little longer.

#supernaturalpromptchallenge #supernatural #Sastiel #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #My writing

11 notes · View notes

thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters · 5 years

Text

Request: “#5 with Dean + privately discussed trope.” by @dragonheartstring360

Prompt: “If there ever was a right time to tell you, I know this is it.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Canon inconsistencies (just go with it, thanks), mentions of death, mentions of a car crash, angst, fluff

A/N: This one turned out a bit longer than intended. I hope I did the request justice, especially since it was asked for months ago. My apologies for the wait. Enjoy (:

Beta: @bookshido and @slytherkins

JJ’s Rockin’ 100 - RULES || MASTERLIST || ASK BOX

(gif)

The knock on your door pulled you out of your half-slumber. You were so tired of being tired. You also knew that probably wasn't going to go away until you were allowed to stop taking your medication. Doctor's orders.

"Come in," you croaked, quickly clearing your throat with a frown. Your eyes took in the sight of Dean entering your bedroom, a tray in his hands with some pretty good smelling food on top. He tried to smile at you but you saw the worry in his eyes. It had been there ever since you woke up in the hospital a little while ago.

"Any news?" you asked before he could start talking about something unimportant again. Dean had been trying to keep you distracted from what had happened - what was still happening. You could tell he was afraid you would feel guilty for not helping out. And he was right; you felt incredibly guilty.

Ever since Cas died and Mary and Jack were pulled into an alternate universe with the devil himself, Sam had been working hard to find a way to get them back. Dean helped where he could, though he mostly remained at your bedside. Which was where you had to stay for a while; in bed. More doctor's orders.

"Breakfast first," Dean said sternly as he helped you sit up. He made sure you were comfortable, propping a pillow up between your back and the bed's headboard. "Other stuff later."

Stuff. This wasn't just one of their normal setbacks. Part of their family was gone. And they had no idea how to get them back. Did he just not care?

But you knew that wasn't fair. Dean was worried just as much as you were, probably even more. He had even more on his mind. You.

It made you feel even worse. If you had just been more careful, if you hadn't rushed to where the others were so recklessly, you would have actually made it there and maybe you could have helped. Instead, you crashed the car and got taken to the nearest hospital. By the time you woke up in the sterile white room, Dean was at your bedside with a heap of bad news to fill you in on.

He didn't tell you right away, though. First he tried to tell you something which was even worse. He tried apologizing.

Apparently, because of everything that happened, Dean hadn't checked his phone until a couple hours after you were admitted to the hospital. He was listed as your emergency contact in your burner phone and the hospital staff had tried calling him multiple times.

You didn't see the big deal. Worse things had happened and you hadn't even woken up before he finally managed to get to you. Still, he hadn't been able to stop apologizing. Despite your numerous attempts to explain to him how it was anything but his fault, you could tell Dean still continued to beat himself up about it.

"Didn't you hear me?" Dean's voice replaced the memory with reality and you were back in your room at the bunker. "Eat your breakfast, Y/N." He was now sitting in that same chair next to your bed where he had spent more hours than you could bear to count.

"I heard you," you mumbled as you pushed the tray back a bit. "I just don't agree. Tell me what's been going on. Has Sam found anything we can use?"

Dean let out a deep sigh, dragging it out a little longer than necessary for dramatic effect. "Should've asked the doctor for pills to help with your stubbornness," you heard him mumble under his breath as he shifted in his seat.

"Dean," you pleaded, pushing yourself up some more in an attempt to look stronger than you felt. "I'm just trying to help."

"You can help..."

"...by resting up and getting better," you sighed. "I know, I know. So you've said about a million times already."

"Then quit asking and eat your damn breakfast!" As soon as the words had left his lips, you could see the regret wash over Dean's face. It seemed he was surprised by him snapping at you just as much as you were.

You pursed your lips and inhaled through your nose, trying not to take the easy way out and send a few sharp words of your own flying his way. That wouldn't help anyone. You were both exhausted, physically but mostly emotionally. There was no denying the gap you felt in your makeshift family with three members beyond your reach.

But there was something else. You could see it in Dean's eyes. Beyond the grief, regret and every inch of guilt the Winchester was so familiar with, there was something in there you couldn't quite place. It surprised you. The two of you had never had secrets for each other.

Dean sensed you staring and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "What?" he asked, his hand moving up to scratch the back of his neck. You wondered if he was trying to scratch at an itch or an urge.

"You tell me," you said with a simple shrug. "What's on your mind, Winchester?" Your eyes immediately raised at his silent response. "Is that... Is that a blush I see on your cheeks?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, shifting his head to hide at least part of his face. "You don't want to know."

The scoff that followed sent some waves of pain through your bruised rib cage but you tried to ignore it. This ought to be good. And you weren't giving up so easily. "I'd like to decide that for myself, if you don't mind."

"And what if I do mind?" He turned his head back, but only a little, raising an eyebrow.

"Then you might want to go back to that doctor and ask for those sturbbornness-reducing pills, or else I'm never going to give it a rest." Your grin was wide, challenging. It only grew when Dean fully turned toward you, giving in.

His hand reached over as if he was about to grab yours but then he seemed to change his mind and let it rest on the mattress next to you instead. "I can't stop thinking about how I almost lost you."

The words were a stab to the heart but they filled you with warmth at the same time. "You didn't, Dean. I'm right here."

"I know," Dean responded. His voice was a lot softer now, as were his eyes. He looked up at you and finally reached for your hand. You squeezed it tight. "But all I could think about was how I might never get to tell you the truth."

There it was again, that obvious implication that there was something Dean knew and you didn't. It had to be one hell of a secret if he didn't tell you before. Your stomach turned itself into a knot, tightening as the seconds passed in silence.

"What truth?" you whispered as if you were afraid you would scare this vulnerable moment away if you spoke any louder.

Dean shook his head, clearly struggling to get the right words out. Open, heartful conversations had never been his strong suit. You appreciated him trying and you squeezed his hand a second time to let him know.

"I've thought about telling you," he continued. "I almost did, so many times. And then I suddenly had a nurse on the phone, telling me about how you..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence, shaking his head once again. "My point is, I don't care anymore. If there ever was a right time to tell you, I know this is it."

You didn't dare speak. Your job in that moment was to listen, to let Dean get out whatever had been plaguing his mind for so long.

"I love you," he finally breathed. A weight visibly fell off his broad shoulders. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. Hell, I love you so much it scares me. Maybe it's selfish of me but I just had to tell you. You don't have to say anything. I know it's complicated in our line of work to just be so much as friends, and you didn't ask for any of this, but-"

"You're right." You couldn't help yourself, you had to interrupt. Or else his rambling would most likely be the death of both of you. To your surprise, he did stop and waited for you to continue.

"You're absolutely right," you said again. "It is extremely selfish of you." His face fell as his eyes searched yours for any sort of indicator that perhaps he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life by telling you all this.

Your hand was still in his. A third squeeze from you helped him visibly relax. "I'm selfish, too," you said softly. "I think that's why we're so good together."

If this hadn't been such a serious moment, you would have laughed at the way Dean was looking at you. His mouth agape, eyes rapidly blinking to somehow grasp what was happening. "You... You think we're good together?" he stammered. "You and me? The two of us, together?"

A snicker left your lips nonetheless. "Yes, Dean," you spoke slowly, as if he wouldn't understand otherwise. "That is where you hoped this was going, isn't it?"

Dean smiled in a way you had never seen on him before. It was shy, a trait you didn't recognize in the guy you thought you knew so well. "To be honest, I didn't really plan ahead that far," he confided in you. "I'm just glad I finally told you. And that you seem to be okay with this."

"I am," you assured him. "I'm okay with it because I love you, too. But..."

"Please, don't let there be a 'but'."

You let go of Dean's hand to playfully punched his arm. "Shut up. I'm trying here, Winchester." He sat up a bit straighter but held his full focus on you as you continued. "We both know this is a difficult time. A lot is happening, and we don't seem to be any closer to figuring it out so far. I just think it'd be a good idea for us to take things... slow. One step at a time, you know?"

Dean was bobbing his head in a nod of agreement so fast you were sure it was giving him a headache. You doubted he cared at all. "All right," he said. His voice was all business but the spark in his eyes betrayed how happy he was. In the midst of all this chaos, you were thankful that you had been able to give him something to hold on to. "How about we have that first step be breakfast?"

"Dean..."

"You have to eat," he argued in a more kinder tone than usual. "Here, I'll reheat your pancakes for you." Dean got up and grabbed your plate. He winked at you before leaving the room.

Though he was trying to play it cool, you didn't miss the slight spring in his step.

#JJ's fics #JJR100 #supernatural #dean x reader #spn drabble #spn oneshot #angst #fluff #death #dean winchester #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester oneshot #spnfanficpond

113 notes · View notes

angrycowboys · 5 years

Text

trust me (dean/cas)

15.09 coda - angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions, hopeful ending

(ao3 link)

He's in his room when Cas knocks on his open door. He's not actively avoiding either of them, he just — needed some time alone. To think. About everything. Cas had seemed to sense that when they got back to the bunker. They'd just sat in silence at the kitchen table for a long time. He didn't try to engage him in any kind of conversation, but it was a comfortable silence, unlike the past few weeks and months when they could barely look at each other, when they'd felt miles apart even when they were standing in the same room. It's like he knew that his prayer had taken everything out of him, wrung him dry of words, of everything he's kept inside for so long, for his whole life, and had never been able to say out loud to anyone. Until it was like he couldn't hold it in anymore, like it was ripped out of him just from pure desperation and hopelessness. Leaning against a tree in Purgatory, barely able to hold his own body weight up, spilling his guts and his soul to Cas, even though he didn't know if he could hear him, if he was already dead, gone, but needing to say it, while he still could, before it was too late. Even if there was only a ghost of a chance.

He'd felt so helpless, calling his name, wandering around futilely in the vast, wild expanse of forest, thinking he'd never find him, or worse. There was a part of him that knew that if he couldn't find Cas before their time ran out, he wouldn't have had the strength to step through the portal alone. He would've just stayed there. Let the world end. Because what would be the point?

And then there was the pure relief of seeing him there and alive again. He almost didn't want to let him go. But he needed to know he'd heard him. But Cas had stopped him, that understanding look in his eyes, like he knew how hard that was for him. Like he was grateful but he didn't need him to say it again. And Dean had just felt something warm and bright flare up inside of him. Just for a moment but it knocked his entire world sideways. It wasn't anger for once. Or desperation or defiance or self-destruction or any of the other countless feelings he'd disguised for the real thing throughout his entire life. It was something he hadn't felt for a long, long time. Maybe not ever.

And then it was all offset again hours later — by Chuck, by the plan not working, by Sammy's vision of the future. And it's like everything he's done, to get Cas back, to keep them together, to fight this, was all for nothing. Because they're going to lose. They were always going to lose.

He's been slowly pacing the length of the room for an hour like a spectre, turning everything over in his head, a glass grasped in his hand that's barely touched his lips. He knows he can't dull this feeling anymore. Maybe he doesn't even want to try.

He sets it down now, looking up at Cas, as he crosses the threshold of the room, standing right in front of him.

"You okay?" Cas asks, his face worn and downcast. He looks how Dean feels. Purgatory gets inside your bones, they both know that, and missing their only shot at Chuck was a heavy blow to all of them.

Dean brushes off the question. Cas already knows he's not okay. None of them are okay. And there's no use in trying to hide anything anymore. "I should be asking you that. You're the one who had to fend off Leviathans by yourself and still managed to grab the flower."

Cas just tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment. "I'd probably feel better about that if it wasn't a complete waste."

"Hey, wasn't a complete waste. We know what Chuck's endgame is now. That's something." He knows he doesn't sound as confident as he's trying his hardest to.

Cas just gives him an encouraging look like he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You were right. We'll figure something else out. We always do." He doesn't know if Cas really believes it or if he's just trying to do exactly what Dean's trying to do, make them both feel better in impossible circumstances. It's what they always say, it's what they have to say, because otherwise they're just left with nothing.

Dean just nods at him absently for a few moments, not really looking at him, and then he just feels something break inside him just like it did back in Purgatory and his stoic expression completely falters again.

"Sam told me, uh, in the visions — Of the future or whatever. That you took the Mark. And then we had to bury you in the Ma'lak box…" He looks right up into Cas's eyes, his own already prickling with more unshed tears; it's like there are permanent cracks now in his armour, with no anger and blame left to seal them up. Everything's risen up to the surface inside of him and it's spilling free. Maybe it should make him feel weak, but it just makes him feel more human, more real. Chuck may be controlling everything else, but his pain and his fight and his relentless need to hold on to his family at all costs belong to him. They're his and his alone and nothing can take that away.

Cas just looks startled for a moment before his face settles again, into almost quiet resignation. And that just makes it even worse. Cas is always so damn willing to jump into the fire for them, for him, always willing to accept his fate, out of guilt or misplaced loyalty or — love, and he's always so fucking ungrateful.

"Dean —" Cas says in a low exhale. He steps closer to him, hand slightly outstretched tentatively in front of him, like he's unsure whether he should touch him or not.

"Cas, I can't — I can't lose you again," he says, voice wrecked, blinking away tears.

"Dean, it's gonna be okay —" He reaches out and just gently touches his fingers to Dean's forearm. Dean doesn't pull away but just squeezes his eyes shut, head hanging low like he physically can't keep it up anymore. They're so close that Dean can feel his warmth, his slow, steady breathing.

Cas gradually slides his hand down his arm and curls it around Dean's wrist, thumb resting against his pulse point. Dean just lifts his head slowly, shaking it disconsolately, his face twisting into a bitter grimace. "I almost lost you today. I've already lost you so many times. And too many of those times, it was my own damn fault. Because I was too fucking stupid."

"It's not your fault, Dean," Cas says quietly. "None of this is your fault."

"It's just — I don't know what's wrong with me. That I couldn't say that before — that I couldn't let myself accept it. That it takes losing everything for me to finally admit that I —" He cuts himself off with a broken sob.

Before Dean realises what he's doing, Cas raises his other hand to his cheek, lightly strokes his fingertips over his skin, wipes away some stray tears with his thumb. It's so unexpectedly tender that he lets out a small gasp and he can't help leaning into his touch, his eyes falling shut again, feeling so, so tired and lost. Cas's touch is his only salve, his only direction.

"Dean, it's okay. I understand," he tells him, voice barely more than a murmur. "You've lost so much in your life. More than anyone should ever have to bear. And it never ends. And the hits just keep coming. I know why you're angry. I know why it's so hard to admit how much you care. Because it makes losing everything so much worse."

"It hurts anyway," he grits out. "It hurts so fucking much, Cas. Every time. And I can't do anything about it — I can't stop it —"

Cas pulls him close into a crushing embrace now. Arms tight around his body, hands running over his hair, as he cradles his head against his shoulder. Dean clutches his fists into the back of his coat and he doesn't want to let go just like before. This time, with the clock not running down until the portal closes, maybe he might just not. Maybe they could just stay here until Chuck decides he's done and turns the lights out on the whole damn universe.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas says against his ear, soft and soothing, like a litany. "It's okay."

They have to pull apart eventually, Dean wiping away the remaining moisture from his eyes, Cas still just gazing at him, eyes sad and soft.

"Guess you're probably sick of me being a crybaby on you by now. Wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave again," Dean teases with a laugh.

Cas just lets out the slightest chuckle before smiling at him. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Dean just takes his hand and squeezes it for a second, looking at him intently, eyes unblinking. "Good," he says simply before dropping his hand.

Cas just grows serious and focused again, blue eyes blazing with an intense fire. "Dean, I promise you. We'll stop it. Together. We'll stop Chuck. We'll make our own future. Because that's what we do. That's what you taught me to do."

Dean just gives him an ironic smile. "It's funny. For a guy who's supposedly the paragon of free will, I've never been too good at just letting myself get what I want."

Cas just gives him a strange look, almost guarded for the first time, like he thinks he knows what that means but he doesn't trust himself to be sure.

"About what you said, in Purgatory, your prayer —" he starts evenly.

"You said you heard it," Dean says, meeting his gaze.

"Yeah. I heard all of it. And you forgive me," Cas says, like some small part of him is still doubting that.

"I'll always forgive you," Dean says honestly. "No matter what. You're my best friend. You've been there for me when everything else, the whole damn world, was falling apart. When I was at my worst. When I didn't have any hope. Letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made. I was miserable without you. Ask Sam. I just didn't have anything else to hold on to, except being mad at you. I only blamed you because otherwise I could only blame myself. For Mom. For Jack. For all of it."

Cas lets out a breath before just looking at him, expression open and earnest now. "Dean, I know you've been struggling. With all of this. Since — Since Mary. And then Chuck — And I hated that you pushed me away. When all I wanted was to be here. With you. Helping you carry that burden. Sharing each other's grief."

"Wasn't your fault," Dean says dismissively. "I didn't want your help. I didn't think it was real. Didn't think any of this was real. I didn't trust it. Didn't trust you. Didn't trust that you coming into my life, saving me from Hell, wasn't just another sick game of Chuck's to fuck with me some more."

He can't blame Cas for not trusting him, not trusting his feelings, when it's been so, so hard for him to trust Cas. Since the beginning. To trust that he was there and that he really cared about him, really wanted him, that he was Dean's and he wasn't going to leave.

"Dean, I'm here. I'm real," Cas tells him, just like he told him months ago when he didn't want to hear it. "This is real. It's always been real."

Dean nods. "I know that now," he tells him firmly.

"Okay, that's good. That's good, Dean," Cas breathes, and it looks like a heavy load's been lifted off of him. "That's how we beat him. Holding on to ourselves. The things we believe in."

"Yeah, but that's not the only way to beat him," Dean says significantly. "If you can't let yourself feel what you really feel, have what you really want — Then there's no point in any of it. Fighting. Saving the world. Living."

"I want you to be happy, Dean. I want that more than anything," Cas says and he sounds like he means it so much that Dean's heart aches. Even after everything, after Dean was so fucking awful to him, he still only wants Dean to be safe and whole and at peace. Even if that means dying, probably. But Dean will never be any of those things without Cas. He knows that now. He should've made sure Cas knew that years and years ago. That there was no doubt or uncertainty, that Dean would always forgive him, would always want him back, would always be there to bring him home.

"You didn't hear all of it, you know. There was something else. Something I wanted to tell you when I was looking right at you. When I knew you could hear it. Something I never thought I would get the chance to do. Something I never thought I'd be brave enough to do. But if not now, then when, right?" Dean says, with just a hint of a smile.

Cas just stares at him with his mouth slightly parted, eyes wide, like he's barely breathing until Dean leans in and presses his lips to his. Careful and deliberate and full of purpose. It's like he's saying, Trust me. Trust me. Trust this. Don't ever leave me again. So that Cas will never again be confused about what he means to Dean. So that he'll always know what Dean feels for him, what he feels for Dean, that nothing can ever break this, that Dean will never let him go again. He should've done this a long time ago too.

It's like something else breaks in him now. But it's pure contentment and relief and surging, overwhelming hope. He didn't think he was capable of feeling this. He thought that this part of him would've been worn away by years and years of waging wars and crushing grief and darkness that felt insurmountable, by his entire life, but it's still there somehow. A small but powerful flame thriving deep down inside of him. And now it's ignited his entire being.

Cas sighs into the kiss, bringing his hands up to rest them on his face, and he thinks he can feel his grace touching him inside. It's like when he heals him but different, almost like an embrace, like two souls intertwining around each other. Fitting together just as they're supposed to. Like this is where they always belonged.

They kiss and kiss, Dean's arms around his waist and Cas's heart thundering in his chest right against his own and making tiny gasps against his mouth and his fingers tracing over his skin, tasting each other, new and familiar and undeniable. It's like getting out of Purgatory after being stuck there for years, finally being able to breathe fresh air, to cast off the filth and the guilt and the despair dragging his soul down into the dirt. If something like this, so pure and right and real, exists in this world, then maybe there's a chance for them yet. Against all the demons and darkness and monsters in every universe and God himself.

They pull apart after what feels like a lifetime, foreheads pressed together, Cas's hands still framing his face.

"I love you," Dean says against his lips. Because he has to this time. It comes out as easy and effortless as anything, as simple as breathing.

"I've always loved you, Dean Winchester," Cas tells him, his voice as constant and absolute as the foundations of the earth, as the dawning of all existence. "And I always will."

Dean leans in and kisses him one more time, soft and slow and lingering.

"That's how I know we're gonna win," Dean says, voice full and sure now. "Because we're not alone. Because this is stronger than anything. Even God."

#supernatural #spn #destiel #destiel fic #my fic

31 notes · View notes