tinemarie19 - Tumblr blog

[tinemarie19]

Dear Friends...

...So, you may have noticed that I took a 3 month hiatus from writing. Well I’m here to explain that long pause to you and tell you not to fret, because I’m not going anywhere!

Here’s the DL. 

As I was reading through my posted fics / everything in my draft list, I came to the sobering conclusion that I wasn’t happy with anything that I was writing. I still love my ideas, but their execution left a lot to be desired, especially for me. For whatever reason, I just wasn’t able to get the words to flow like the picture in my head. 

So I took a hot second to take a break, re-work my thoughts, and re-outline my ideas. And I’ve decided to start from scratch. Within the upcoming week I plan on deleting the stories I posted way back when. If you were a fan of those, never fear! Those stories will be the first of the shiny new stories to return - with the same basic storyline but hopefully significantly less splinters.

Once I finish getting my fics finalized and give them a final, probably too-harsh scrutinizing, I’ll be posting again! Hopefully within the next week or two, and thenhopefully much more regularly than before. 

I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I’ll try to make it up to you!

[tinemarie19]

UPDATES!!

Upate #1

I’M UP TO 20 FOLLOWERS!! WOOHOO!! Hello, friends! :)

Update #2

If you’ve visited my page recently, you may have noticed that the look is slightly different. I’ve been playing around with some new themes, trying to find the right one for me, and I think I’ve finally found it! I’m still trying to work a couple of kinks, but hopefully no more major changes!

Update #3

This is the exciting news... I HAVE OPENED UP REQUESTS!

I added a “REQUEST Q&A” link up at the top of my page, so take a peek at that if your interested in submitting a request. It’ll give you a basic rundown of what I am willing and not willing to write. 

I have one more story that I plan on getting out this weekend. Then I shall begin tackling your deepest wishes and desires.

I look forward to your meeting your muses! <3

[tinemarie19]

kay-girl reblogged your post and added: “Thawing Out”

Ohhhhh holy fluffy cuteness ��

I’m so glad you like it!! Hopefully my next Cas one will be even better ;)

[tinemarie19]

Hahaha, no problem, Jen! If you ever need any other fun questions like that, I've got you! :)

If you could be any type of cheese, what kind would you be and why?

Dude, best question ever!

Jalapeno havarti all the way because its it has the perfect amount of spice. I feel like that accurately represents me.

I’m going to think back to this every time I eat that cheese now! Thank you!

[tinemarie19]

Gravedigger (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count:1,241

Warnings: being buried alive, feelings associated with being buried alive, fluff

Author’s Note: Here it is, Part 2! Hope you guys like it.

Your name: submit What is this?

You sighed, trying to keep the the tears that were threatening to overflow at bay. Your entire body was sore, your wooden coffin not yielding much in the way of movement or comfort. The air was thick and hard to breathe, though you weren't sure if it was from all the dirt or the thinning oxygen. The darkness was, well, dark. It made time basically impossible to tell. It felt like you had been lying there for weeks, but it could've only been a few hours. Who knew.

Your thoughts wandered to Sam and Dean. And Cas. God, how you wished they would show up already. Cas had once referred to you guys as 'Team Free Will'. Dean had laughed and thought it was stupid, but you thought it was sweet. You guys were a team now. A family.

But being trapped in a wooden box under who knows how many feet of earth gave you a lot of time to think. Too much time. And as much as you hated to think about it, to even consider it, you knew that you had to be realistic about things. You could very well die, alone, in this pit. It was appearing to be a truly grave situation, indeed. 

You snorted, definitely in spite of the situation. Even now, at the end of the road, you could still come up with some truly terrible puns. You were startled from your slightly delirious state by a rather large cloud of dirt falling onto you. What the hell? You tried brushing it off as nothing, but then it happened again. And again.

"Hello?" You cried out. Your throat burned with the effort, dry from the dusty air you had been breathing, but you didn't care. "Hello?" You were greeted by a muffled sound, causing relief to course over you. It was Dean. It had to be. You started banging on the wooden top with your fist, hoping to make more noise than your parched throat was allowing. That's when you heard it; faint at first, but growing steadily louder:

"Y/N! Y/N! Hang on! We're coming for you!" Dean Winchester. You let the tears that had been welling up in your eyes to finally fall, though this time is was from complete and utter happiness. 

Soon enough, little specks of light began shining through the wooden slats. Dean's heavy boots landed on top of the coffin, startling you.

"Sam, crowbar!" You heard him say, as he apparently bushed away some of the first by hand. Sam was here too, then. You smiled. "Y/N! Cas, be ready! I don't know what ind of condition she's going to be in, and we need every second." And Cas? Your boys were all here. For you.

The force of the crowbar hitting your box and the sound of the wood splintering startled you out of your reverie. You curled into yourself slightly, trying to protect your face from the now rapidly falling dirt.

The rapidly falling dirt forced you to shield your eyes with your arm. Then, there was a blinding light.

The next thing you knew there was a thump and you felt a presence next to you: Dean’s presence. He slid one callused hand under your head and cupped your cheek with the other.

“Y/N. Y/N.” You opened your eyes, squinting against the glaring sunlight.

“Dean,” you said, your voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. You raised your hand to his cheek, mirroring his action. You knew he was coming for you, even as he was digging you out; but to see his face in front of you now brought you a sense of comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied. His thumb traced lightly over you skin as his eyes searched yours for reassurance that you were alright, that you were really alive. You noticed that his eyes were brimming with unshed tears, the realization bringing a new wave of your own. This seemed to bring him back to reality. He moved his hand from your head to your back, helping you to sit up a bit and he hooked his other arm under your legs. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, securing yourself to him.

“Alright, come on, let’s get you out of there.” He lifted you up, almost effortlessly, and managed to carry you up out of the hole, with a little assistance from Sam. He sets you down on the soft grass and tries to unravel himself from you, but you wrapped your arms tighter around him.

“Please, Dean, please don’t leave me.” Now that he was here, you never wanted to let him go.

“I’m not going anywhere, doll, but I gotta let Cas do his thing, okay?” You nodded and Dean shifted so that he was sitting behind you, and arm securely wrapped around your torso. 

“I promise, this will not be painful,” Cas assured you as he squatted down in front of you, placing two fingers against your temple. You felt a light tingling course through you, the sensation stopping just as quickly as it started. “There,” Cas, said, standing. “Your body will undoubtedly be sore, but I have fixed all of your minor injuries.” 

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Y/N…” You turned your head as Sam placed a hand over your own, giving it a light squeeze. His eyes shown with the same unshed tears his brother held back.

“I’m okay, Sam. I’m okay.” He nodded, raking a hand quickly through his hair. “Hey, how did you guys find me anyway?” you asked, finally taking notice of the large, empty field you were sitting in the middle of. Sam recounts the events of the last couple days: from finding out you were missing, to summoning Crowley, to racing to come find you. “And the demon,” you asked. “What about him?”

“Still missing,” Cas grumbled, furrowing his brow.”

“But we’ll find him, Y/N. We’re not going to let him get away with this. Not a chance.”

“Good,” you said, leaning back into Dean’s embrace.

“Let’s head back, give Y/N a chance to rest up,” Sam suggested, getting to his feet and standing next to Cas.

“Good idea, Sammy,” Dean said, moving to pick you up again.

“I can walk, you know,” you said.

“Oh, I know you can. But after all you’ve been through, I think you deserve a little bit of special treatment.”

How kind,” you said, somewhat sarcastically, but a smile never left your face. As he carried you towards the Impala, following behind Sam and Cas, you felt his grip around you tighten.

“Never do that again, alright, sweetheart?” he whispered, his breath ticking against your ear.

“I promise, Dean.” He placed a light kiss against your temple, causing a blush to creep up into your face. You tried to fight it as you relaxed into him, resting you head into the crook of his neck, letting your mind wander. It worried you that the demon was still out there – more than you would ever let on – but you guys would find him. That much you were sure of. Just as you were sure that one day you would tell Dean how you felt. But for now, you were alive. You were safe. And as long as you had your three knights in shining armor, you knew everything would be alright. Who knew, maybe a little princess treatment is exactly what you needed.

[tinemarie19]

Getting to Know You :)

In honor of getting to the DOUBLE DIGITS in followers!!! Hello, friends!

Plus, I’ve literally seen EVERYONE posting and  reblogging this questionnaire from @talesoftheimpala (who is ridiculously amazing, btw), so I figured I’d join on in. 

Name: Tina

Nickname: none, unfortunately

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Virgo

Height: 5’5” (really more like 5’4.5”)

Sexual Orientation: Hetero

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Favorite Color: Plum and grey

Favorite Animal: Orangutan!!!

Average Hours of Sleep: around 8-ish

Cat or Dog Person: Both? I can never choose… both are so cute...

Favorite Fictional Characters: Hermione Granger, Bilbo Baggins, Captain Jack Sparrow, K-2SO, Doctor #11

Number of Blankets I Sleep With: In the summer:1 / In the winter:3-7

Favorite Singer/Band: Bon Iver, Panic! At the Disco, Old Dominion, Maroon 5

Dream Trip: New Zealand to see Hobbiton. And maybe live there. Forever.

Dream Job: Actor (on SPN if we’re being totally honest)

When Was This Blog Created:12/10/2016...though I didn’t start posting until super recently

Current Number of Followers: 14! I’m up to 14 whole people and I love each one of them

When Did Your Blog Reach Its Peak?: Maybe one day…

ALSO! Keep a look out for requests to open up soon! I have a couple more fics that I want to get posted first (just to make sure everything is going smoothly), but I’m really looking forward to hearing what YOU GUYS want to read! So get those gears ‘a churning!

[tinemarie19]

Gravedigger (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,193

Warnings: getting buried alive, slight emotions associated with being buried alive, minor alcohol consumption, one single mention of torture (cannon)

Author’s Note: What started off as a short drabble ended up being more of a mini-series. WHAT? Anyway, I really hope you guys like it! And please, input is super appreciated! I’m still so new at this... Also, if you guys want to be tagged in future fics or have some advice, or just want to say “Hi”, the inbox is always open. :)

Your name: submit What is this?

YOUR POV

 You woke up with a cough, surrounded by complete and utter darkness, your back pressed against the hard surface that you were laying on. There was a severe pounding in your head that seemed to stem from a throbbing point at the back of your skull and you briefly wondered if you were bleeding.

 "Hello?" You rasped, your throat as dry ass the air around you. Silence. Your voice seemed to be muffled by whatever your surroundings were. You raised your hand in what you hope was up in front of you. It was met by another hard surface.

 Your heart felt like it was going to force itself up through your throat as a deep-seated panic set in. Your arms flailed to either side, hoping to find some semblance of open space. Instead you only found more hardness. Your feet were met by the same resistance as you experimentally shifted down.

 "No. No! No no no!" Tears sprang to your eyes and you let out a strangled sob as reality began to set it. The dustiness to the air, the box that you were trapped in... someone had buried you alive.

 NORMAL POV

 "What do you mean you don't know where she is?" Dean bellowed, slamming his hands against the table. You had been missing for almost two days now, and that was two days too many. Cas was even scouring heaven for any intel on your sudden disappearance. And Crowley was just standing there, an annoyed expression on his stupid face.

 "I've told you, Squirrel, I have no idea where your girlfriend is. Maybe she just decided to go off and find someone with less baggage."

 "Crowley!"

 "Do you have any idea who took her then?" Sam asked, trying to deescalate the situation to a less hostile and more productive one.

 "Sorry, Moose, but whoever took her, they don't work for me. I would have nothing to gain by stealing her away other than an earful of quite colorful profanities."

 "Whoever?" Sam asked, his brain working overtime to put the piece together.

 "Whoever who?" Crowley asked, not quite following Sam's question.

 "You said whoever, not whatever. That means that you know that she was taken by a person, not a creature." Sam said, both him and Dean taking a step towards the former King of Hell.

 "Knowing and assuming are two very different things, and you know what they say about assuming," he said almost mockingly. When he saw that Sam and Dean were not amused, he dropped the act, knowing that they wouldn't let him out of the demon trap until he gave them something to work with. "Look, while you two were running around like chickens with your heads cut off, I took a closer look at the scene of the crime." They glared at him. "A much closer look. There were a few flakes of sulfur on a nearby window. And unless Wilma's Antique China Shop started serving their dishes with rotten eggs, Y/N was taken by a demon - one that's incredibly clever at covering their tracks."

 "You will find the demon that took her and you will find out where they're keeping her." Dean ground out, moving ever closer.

 “Or what?" Crowley chanced, maintaining a relatively smug look.

 "Or I'll drag you down to hell and torture you myself. And you know I've my fair share of practice at that."

 "Got it: kill the dragon and find out where they're stashing the princess." Sam bent down and reluctantly put a scratch into the red paint, breaking the seal. "Ta ta." And with that he was gone. They only hoped that he would return sooner rather than later.

YOUR POV

You laid there, hand on your chest, trying to slow your erratic breathing. If that demon really did burry you alive, then you knew you had to conserve as much oxygen as you could. You didn't know how long you had been there, but based on how relatively easy it was to breathe, you were confident it hadn't been long, but you couldn't be sure. You just needed enough oxygen to last until the boys found you. Until Dean found you. And you knew he wouldn't stop until he did. The demon had you for at who knows how long, but hopefully your boys would be showing up relatively soon.

In an attempt to calm yourself and clear your mind, you forced yourself to focus on the details of your surroundings. You placed you hand up against the hard surface in front of you. It was fairly smooth, but there was a undeniable roughness to it: definitely wood. However, the space between planks was only big enough to let the faintest amount of dirt fall through. Definitely not big enough for a finger, much less a whole hand. You weren't able to pry the wood apart, but maybe you could break it?

You experimentally bent your knee to determine how much leverage you had to work with. THUNK.

'Son of a bitch!" You cried out, immediately bringing a hand to your now throbbing knee. You knew that you didn't have THAT much room, obviously, since you had just placed your hands in front of yourself not seconds ago. You blamed the darkness for messing with your sense of depth perception - your grave was still a dark shade of pitch black, and you couldn’t even see your hand in front of you face. It was very disorienting. Not to mention significantly unnerving.

"Dean...Sam...Cas...where are you guys?"

NORMAL POV

The sound of fluttering wings filled the bunker. 

"Cas! Anything?" Sam asked, jolting out of his seat at the War Room table. Dean rushed into the room from the kitchen, an unopened bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

"Nothing," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Cas..." Dean warned, almost as if he suspected the angel to be lying.

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" He asked, throwing his hands up. "I've spoken to the head of every garrison. Every single one. And they all said the exact same thing: ‘nothing out of the ordinary’. Some of them are humoring me by keeping a look out for any strange demonic activity in the area, but I fear they won't be much help."

"Damn it," Dean said, falling into his seat and twisting the cap of the bottle, taking a long swig of the amber liquid.

"Any word from Crowley yet?" Cas questioned, looking between the brothers.

"Not yet," Sam said, rubbing a hand over his face. It had been hours since they had summoned the King of Hell (five hours and thirty-two minutes to be exact) and still nothing.

"He should've found something by now. Anything," Cas complained, his face growing even more concerned.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Dean quipped, taking a second drink of whiskey, swallowing once, twice, before continuing. "But seeing as we have literally nothing to go on from our end, it's not like we have much of a choice."

"Dean's right, Cas," Sam added, sinking back down into his own seat. "Crowley's the only capable of finding out which demon we're dealing with here. We just gotta trust that he's going to keep his word."

"Hello, boys."

@supernatural-jackles​: Jen, I hope you don’t mind me tagging you? Your writing is simply magical and I’d value your opinions. Plus it’s kind of a Dean fic, and I hear you’re a Dean!Girl ;)

[tinemarie19]

nanie5 replied to your post: It Ain’t Always Rock n’ Roll

Would be a 2 part? If so, may I be tagged on it? Please and thank you

I originally didn’t plan on a Part 2, but I’m sure I can do some brainstorming and whip something up! I have another story or two currently in the works, but hopefully I can get it out soon. And, YES! You can absolutely be tagged in it when it gets posted! :)

[tinemarie19]

It Ain’t Always Rock n’ Roll

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 811

Warnings: very mild swearing 

Author’s Note: Feedback, please! I’m still trying to get the hang of this whole writing thing, so I’d appreciate any feedback or comments you guys have!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

You felt a smile cross your lips as you watched the flannel-clad back of Dean Winchester make its way up the metal stairs of the bunker, your large duffle in hand.

Dean had been a demon for almost two months, and that was two months too long as far as you were concerned. But ever since you, Sam, and Cas had managed to cure him from his…affliction… Dean had been a lot nicer. Well, nicer may not have been the right word, but you could tell he was trying. Small actions like making you a cup of coffee or carrying your bag. But you could still tell that he felt ashamed. Embarrassed, even. You couldn’t blame him tough – he had done some pretty heinous things as a Knight of Hell.

“You coming, Sweetheart?” Dean called down from the doorway.

“What? Yeah, coming,” you said, grabbing your jacket off the back of the high-backed wooden chair. You fished out the bunker keys from your pocket as your trotted to catch up. Now that Dean was back to normal – well, as normal as he could get with the Mark of Cain still etched into his arm – he was practically chomping at the bit to go on a hunt. It made you nervous. You and Sam had tried to keep him under house-arrest for as long as possible, but with the Mark enhancing Dean’s already building frustration, you decided that maybe a controlled run would be good. For everyone.

You locked up and made your way to the Impala. Sam was closing up the trunk while Dean was already sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Hurry up! We’re burning daylight!” Dean shouted as he slammed his door shut. Sam met you at the side of the car.  

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sam asked, trying to keep his voice low. You were about to respond when you were cut off by an “I can hear you, ya know!” from inside the car. You rolled your eyes and gave Sam a uncertain shrug.

“Only time will tell, right?” He gave you a slight nod and you both climbed into the Impala. As you closed your door, you were surprised to see the ignition still completely turned off.

“Alright, look,” Dean said, propping an arm onto the seat back and shifting in his seat so that he could see both you and Sam. “I get it, I really do.”

“Get what?” Sam asked, though you suspected that, like you, he already knew the answer to that question.

“That you don’t want me hunting.”

“Dean…” you trailed, but your voice seemed to get lost in itself.

“I know what this thing does to me, okay? I know I’m not all rainbows and sunshine with this damn mark on my arm. Hell, some days its like I can barely keep myself from tearing into you guys.” You and Sam exchanged a quick glance. “But I want you to know that I’m trying to keep this under control so we can do what we gotta do. I’m not just going to take this lying down.”

“We wouldn’t expect anything less,” you said, laying a hand on his arm, Sam nodding in agreement.  A brief moment of silence fell between you guys.

“Damn chick flick moments,” Dean grumbled, turning back to the steering wheel. “Maybe I am going soft.” He turned the ignition and the car was immediately filled with the upbeat sounds of…Justin Timberlake? “What the hell is this?” Dean asked, turning between you and Sam.

“Don’t look at me,” Sam said, immediately pointing back at you.  Traitor.

“Y/N?” Dean was now almost fully turned in his seat, staring at you with wide, demanding eyes.

“Well you weren’t exactly using her these past few weeks.” You stated, crossing your arms.

“So you decide to play this…this…crap?”

“It’s not crap, Dean, its culture. Besides, I think she liked the change.”

“Crap!” Dean exclaimed, quite dramatically. He turned and ejected your mixtape from the player and started fishing though his own collection of cassettes. “Baby is a classic! She was made for, no, built for, the guitar riffs and pounding melodies of classic rock. This this girly stuff. Baby is a warrior, not some, some… princess…ha! Found it!” Seconds later, the speakers were singing the smooth, rhythmic sounds of Def Leppard’s ‘Rock of Ages’.

“There, much better,” he said, relaxing back into the seat and easing her into gear and onto the road.

“Fantastic,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head. He had never been a die-hard fan of the genre.

“You’re damn right it is,” Dean smirked, tossing your cassette back at you. “Here, take your girly music back.” You barely caught it as Dean tossed your carefully constructed tape back at you. You glared at him in the rearview mirror, your eyes catching his own. He sent you a playful wink before turning his attention back to the road.  Maybe this hunt wouldn’t be so bad.

[tinemarie19]

Thawing Out

Pairing: Cas x Reader

Word Count: 1,407

Warnings: just fluff and cuddling and other nice things

Author’s Note: My very own SECOND story! Please! Feedback is always super appreciated! I just want you guys to be happy!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

You hated winter.

HATED IT.

Well, not really. You loved the magical look of freshly fallen snow and and bundling in warm sweaters and finally having an excuse to indulge in a cup of piping hot chocolate. No, you didn’t hate winter, but you sure hated the cold that came with it.

That frigid, bone-chilling freeze that seemed to last for days.

Unfortunately, you guys had just finished up a long, three-day hunt up in Montana where temperatures had decided to dip into the negatives. And needless to say, you still were cold even after nearly thirty-six hours of being back.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as you made your way into library with your second cup of broth. Catching a chill was surprisingly exhausting, and you couldn’t find the motivation to do much else besides boiling the water for your bullion cubes and curling up with a book.

A cough broke the silence as you were setting your mug down on the table.

“Hey, Cas,” you said, turning to face the angel. He stood in the middle of the doorway, looking at you with a confused frown across your face.

“Why are wearing a blanket?” he asked.

You laughed. “Because I’m cold. Trust me, I wouldn’t be walking around like this if I could help it.” Castiel’s naivety was undeniably adorable. He just stared at you more intensely before finally walking up to you.

“But you finished that hunt two days ago. Your body should have returned to homeostasis by now.”

“Yeah, well tell that to my body” you groaned, flopping down onto the couch, still clutching your blanket.

“Well if it hasn’t listened to itself – er…you, than I hardly believe that it will heed anything I say.” You couldn’t help but smile. Since his brief stint as a human, Cas seemed to have picked up on the many nuances of humanity, and you couldn’t be happier to see that he was getting better at incorporating them into conversation.

“What?” you asked, as he continued to study you. You were starting to feel a little uncomfortable under his constant gaze. You had always thought he was attractive, but you knew that it would never get farther than a simple crush due to his standing as an angel of the Lord.

“It is most concerning that you are still experiencing these effects.”

“It’s fine, Cas,” you shrugged, sitting forward to take a sip of your broth. “Yeah, sure, it’s far from ideal, but I’ll manage. I always do.” Cas appeared to be deep in thought: his foot was lightly tapping against the floor and he placed his hands against his hips while ever so slightly biting on his bottom lip – a move which you found unbelievably attractive and slightly arousing. You must have gotten lost in your staring, because the sudden straightening of his arms startled you.

“If I may, I…I’d like to try something.” He almost seemed, nervous?

“Uh, yeah, go for it,” you said, his apparent anxiety also beginning to affect you. You placed your mug back on the table and sat straighter, ready for whatever he needed you to do. He sat down next to you on the couch, barely leaving a foot of space between you. It was close enough that you could smell the scent that was purely Castiel: a mixture of what you could only describe as clean as clean laundry and manly musk-filled clouds. You resisted the urge to close that small space, deciding that any such bold movement would scare Cas away. That, and you were curious; curious to what exactly his plan was.  

You could almost hear the seconds tick by as Cas just sat there, staring out into the empty room. The only indication that he was still alive was the white-knuckled grip he appeared to have on his knees.

“Cas?” you asked, gently placing your hand on his arm. This seemed to bring him out of his thoughts.  

“Is this okay with you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t even know how it is you plan on helping me; but I can assure you, Cas, that I’ll be fine with whatever it is you have in mind. He nodded, though you felt that it was more towards himself than you.

Finally, he shifted so that he was facing you. He gently grasped the blanket, pulling it from around you. Your body involuntarily shivered against the cold. Cas moved deeper in the couch, placing himself into the far corner against the arm rest. He reached forward and placed a hand on your now bare arm, guiding you back towards him. Was this..did he…was he trying to cuddle  with you? Once your back was fully flushed against his chest and your feet comfortably in front of you, he fanned the blanket out on top of both of you, bringing his arms underneath so that he was better able to wrap his arms around you.

“Is this…” he trailed off, letting the words of his previous question silently resurface.

“Y-yes, Cas, this is okay,” you managed to stutter, even though your heart was pounding in your throat.

“Good.” A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “I experienced something similar to this while I was human, though the circumstances were…different. I believe the correct term for this type of embrace is known as cuddling?” You could barely manage to nod your head, your mind swimming with unspoken thoughts and questions about what this could mean, if it meant anything at all. “I remember that it seemed to evoke a great deal of emotional warmth. I presumed that given the basic laws of thermodynamics that the same could be said for physical warmth.”

You were sure that he could probably feel your stomach literally drop within you. So that’s what this was all about: it was just a logical extension of the emotional, and quite physical, time that he spent with April. Sure, she tried to kill him, but it was still his first experience in…that department. Lucky, ungrateful bitch.

You are brought out of your thoughts by Castiel’s callused thumb slowly rubbing up and down your arm, creating an explosive tingling sensation in its wake.

“This is not the same thing,” Cas states, adding a little more pressure behind his thumb’s strokes.

“Oh, so what, you’re a mind reader now?” you asked, not failing to not the bitterness that laces your words.

“No, still just an angel. But as you are no doubt aware, angels have the capability to…sense certain things within people, emotions if you will. Y/N, I was not lying when I said these circumstances were different.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much.”

“The relationship that I had with April was based solely on manipulation and distrust.”

“And with me?” you dared to ask.

“With you there is…more. I-I can’t seem to find the words to describe it in any other way, but I am confident that I did not feel for her to this depth.” You heart felt like it was going to swell out of your chest. You knew that Castiel’s introduction to the realm of human intricacies was brief, but right now, but his simple description spoke volumes. You only hoped that you were interpreting it correctly. With a deep breath, you took the plunge, grabbing his unmoving hand under the blanket and intertwining your fingers. You can feel his breath hitch and then shudder, his erratic breath blowing over your ear, causing goose bumps to erupt all over your body. You are about to ask if he’s alright with your bold gesture when the hand that has been rubbing random patterns into your arm moves down and wraps tightly around you.

“You are more to me than you realize, Y/N.” You let a smile overtake your face as you let your head fall into the crook of his neck, relishing in the fact that he rests his head against your own. Now that you are fully encased in his arms, you can detect a faint, almost cinnamon-y scent underlying his natural musk. It’s intoxicating.

“You’re more to me too, Cas.” He gives you a brief squeeze before settling back into the cushions, allowing you to fully relax against him.

Your mug still sat on the table, the broth undeniably cold by now, but that was fine by you. You had all the warmth you could ever need right here.

[tinemarie19]

I Can’t

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1,398

Warnings: none really, just fluff 

Author’s Note: My first post! How exciting!! Please send me feedback :) 

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You stood in front of the bookshelf in the library, staring blankly at the aged spines in front of you. You had read over the various titles several times, but you couldn’t actually remember what a single one of the book had been. The only light in the room came from a small dated lamp on the end table and the digital clock beside it. 

 3:57 am 

 The glaring red numbers of the clock seemed to almost mock your restlessness. You had tried to fall asleep, you really had, but your mind was whirling too frantically to allow you to retreat into any state of unconsciousness, constantly replaying scenes from the last hunt. 

 The hunt itself had gone fairly smoothly: you guys had ganked the rugaru, no one else had died, and you all made it out with only a handful of cuts and bruises. No, the hunt wasn’t what was keeping you awake. It was something much more terrifying. It was the way that Sam’s hand gripped yours and he helped you to your feet; the way that he his hands ever so slightly skimmed over your body as he checked for hidden injuries; the way that he casually smiled back at you in the impala when Dean played “Rock You Like a Hurricane” for the third time in a row. 

 You groaned and ran your hands over your face. You knew what these signs meant, but you couldn’t let that happen. Not only was the younger Winchester way out of your league, but in this line of work, romance only made things more complicated. No, it was best that you guys just remain friends. 

 “Y/N?” Your breath caught in your throat. You turned and saw Sam walking into the room, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes. 

 “Sam.” His name came out at a much higher pitch than you were anticipating and you had to swallow in order to get your voice down to a less suspicious level. 

“What are you doing up?” Had he heard you thinking about him? No, that was ridiculous… 

 “I was getting some water when I noticed that the light was on. What are you doing?” 

 “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. It wasn’t exactly a lie, yet your heart still felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. 

 “Do you want some hot chocolate?” 

 “What?” You had been so concentrated on calming yourself down that you didn’t even hear what he said. He let out a soft chuckle. 

 “Hot chocolate. Do you want some?” He motioned to the kitchen as if it would help to clarify his question.

 “Y-yeah, sure.” Sam tilted his head and you followed him into the kitchen. “What happened to water?” you asked and he pulled out a second mug for himself from the cabinet. 

 “Well, you know, gotta indulge every one in a while, right?” You laughed and agreed with him, sitting down at the table. A comfortable silence fell over the room as Sam concentrated on making the drinks. His movements were effortless. How was it that one man could be so perfect in everything he did, from hunting to making hot cocoa? No, you had to stop thinking like this. There was no way any ideas your imagination and been toying with would ever happen in real life. That stuff was only meant for fairy tales. 

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asked, handing a mug over as he took the seat across from you. 

 “Yeah, why?” Just five innocent words and he had your heart running a marathon again. 

 “I dunnno. You just seem sorta … distracted?” Damn, there goes his perfect hair falling into his perfect face again. Your instinct was to shrug. 

“Is it the reason why you’re awake this ridiculously early?” You can’t help but laugh. 

 “Hey, look who’s talking. I’m not sitting at this table by myself.” Sam also laughs. “But yeah, I guess you could say that” you say, immediately sobering up and taking a nice long sip of your hot chocolate. 

 “Why, what’s up?” 

 “Nothing,” you say, though your response is so quick that its bound to draw suspicion. Sam raises his eyebrows at you. Yep, busted. 

 “Y/N…” 

 “Sam, it’s nothing. I promise.” 

 “Then tell me,” he almost pleaded, leaning forward on the table. 

 “I…I can’t.” 

 “Why not?” You stared into your mug, trying to come up with an answer that didn’t involve outright telling him that you were madly in love with him like one of the chic flicks that Dean hated so much. You heard him push back his chair and stand up. He surprised you by pulling out the seat next to yours and sitting down. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he sat facing you, his arms resting on his knees. Your hands gripped your mug, willing yourself to stay silent. Sam reached out and placed a hand on your closer wrist. 

 “Y/N, what going on?” You turned to meet his gaze – it was furrowed with concern, making you feel somewhat guilty. 

 “Please, Sam, just drop it.” 

 “No, Y/N. Look, you know can talk to me, right?” You nodded. “So talk to me. Let me help.” 

 “You can’t,” you mumbled, trying to keep tears from building up in your eyes. God, why did he have to make this so much harder than it needed to be? Why couldn’t he just have gone back to bed and let you deal with your slowly breaking heart in peace? 

 “Hey, hey,” he soothed, apparently hearing the slight waver in your voice that you tried to hide. “Whatever is going on, I can try to-”

“No, Sam!” you cut him off. Your words came out harsher than you meant them to, causing Sam’s hand to slip off your wrist and onto the table. You shot to your feet, a mix of frustration, guilt, and heartbreak coursing through you. You could feel his eyes on you. All of a sudden it felt like the adenine that was there moments ago simply vanished. You rested your hands on the table and leaned your weight against them. “I can’t…” you breathed. 

 “Hey, I get it. You can’t tell me,” Sam finished, standing up and lightly laying a hand on your back, trying to calm you. 

 “No,” you said, conviction starting to lace your voice. You straightened to face him, but as you did. You realized how close you two really were. Your breath caught for a second time. How easy would it be to just lean up and kiss him? Well it would’ve been easy if it had a snowball’s chance in hell of working out. Sam stayed silent, not sure how to respond. 

 “No,” you repeated, mustering what inner conviction you could. “I can’t handle you rejecting me.” You felt a weight shift from your shoulders into the put of your stomach. 

 Sam’s face bore a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and some other emotions that you probably would’ve been able to identify had the the tears that you tried to keep suppressed not decided to overflow. And now that you had all but admitted your feelings for him, there was no going back. You turned to quickly walk back to your room, planning on leaving your dignity right there in that room, when Sam caught your upper arm with his hand. 

 “Y/N, wait…” 

“Please, Sam, just let me go.” You pleaded, tears continuing flow. A small smile graced his lips as he brought his free hand to your face, wiping away the salty trails. 

“I can’t.” 

“W-what?” Your heart was pounding so hard that you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. 

 “I can’t let you go.” Your eyes widened, as did his smile. “I won’t let you go, Y/N. Not now, not ever.” In a burst of confidence that you weren’t sure you’d ever feel again, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his. He responded immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing your arms to freely wrap around his neck. You giggled as he unexpectly lifted you up, causing your legs to instinctively wrap around him. You parted after a few moments, both of you breathing heavily. 

 “Let me down?” you asked, a goofy smile making its way across your face. 

 “I can’t” he chuckled, before capturing your lips once more.